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‘It’s funny.’
‘I don’t do cards.’
‘Well, I do,’ she said, but he’d already stalked off. ‘Costa,’ she called as she caught up with him and they passed the pool where their wet swimwear still lay. ‘About before...’
‘Not now,’ he clipped. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
The retreat was gently lit and they walked along a softly lit path an arm’s length apart, past the occasional villa and the restaurant. There was a herby scent in the air, and the chirrup of crickets matched the rub between her legs.
‘The crickets are loud.’
‘Grylo,’Costa snapped back. ‘I hate them.’
‘I like them...’
The air was thick—not just with the scent of herbs and the sound ofgrylo, but with a tension Mary found most unfamiliar: the hum of unsated desire.
‘Costa,’ she said, ‘can we discuss before?’
‘Let’s just get through Yolanda’s interrogation, shall we?’
‘Costa, please...’
‘There’s nothing we need to discuss—and anyway, we’re here...’
But although she could see they were at the gates, there was so much to discuss.
‘I thought it was mutual,’ Costa said.
‘And it was. I was enjoying it...’
‘I don’t need the ego-stroke, Mary. Save it for your clients.’
‘There are no clients,’ Mary retorted. ‘There never have been.’
‘What?’
‘I’m a virgin...’
He just stood there and looked at her in silence for a very long time. And then in the distance his name was called—presumably by his mother.
‘Costa!’
Yet he didn’t answer her. Instead, he had some questions for Mary. Oh, yes, he did.
‘So what the hell was that back at the pool?’ Costa checked. ‘You came on to me. And I know that for a fact, because I wanted to be very sure it was something you wanted.’
‘And I did.’
‘So when were you going to tell me you’re a virgin?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Of course it damn well matters,’ Costa snapped, and then cursed in Greek. ‘I paid for an escort. I paid for a no-strings weekend to make my life less complicated, not more!’
Yolanda could clearly wait no longer, for the gates had parted and there they were, lit by security lights and facing each other in the middle of a storm of words.
‘Jesus!’ he hissed. ‘You really know how to pick your moments, don’t you, Mary?’
