The Daughter of Night (5 page)

It suddenly dawned on her that he must be rather important in the scheme of things, and she felt the muscles of her stomach twitch with fear—but she covered her nervousness with an expressionless face, although her body wouldn't obey her mind so easily. It insisted on remaining stiff, try as she would to relax, and he was quick on the uptake—he sensed her fear.

'Relax!' Once again she caught a thread of humour. 'I'm not going to bite yet. That will come later, when you refuse my final offer.'

'Big of you!' The words left her mouth with a delicate, female snarl. 'But do be careful, I might bite back.'

In the dimness of the car she heard his chuckle and caught the gleam of his teeth as his lips parted in a smile. He definitely wasn't taking her seriously, he was treating her and her demand as one big joke. Her lips firmed and her eyes hardened—she would show him she was no joke!

The restaurant was a well known one. Hester had heard of it but never been there, and she discovered that it was assumed all the patrons could at least read Greek. There was very little English on the menu and she couldn't make head or tail of it, so she handed it back to Demetrios with a shrug.

'It's all beyond me, double Dutch, but I think I'd like some of those things on skewers,' she flicked a glance at an adjoining table. 'People seem to be enjoying them.'

'Souvlaka,' he supplied the name, 'and wine?'

'Water,' she corrected, 'or perhaps lemonade. I'm not negotiating through an alcoholic haze.' She was curt and determined—this man was too sure of himself and he had all the advantages—she should have stipulated an ordinary English restaurant. 'When do we talk business?'

'Any time you wish, but no raised voices, please. I'm quite well known here.'

'Then I think we should start now.' Her mouth was firm and her eyes direct. 'Has Vilma agreed?'

There was a slight pause as he gave the waiter their order and she waited impatiently through it, but when the waiter had gone and they were once more alone, the answer was disappointing.

'What do you think?' He was sardonic. 'You said yourself she hates parting with money…'

'She
has
to,' Hester began stormily, then lowered her voice as she became aware of some curious glances from the adjacent table. 'I don't see that she has any option.' She gave Demetrios a glance of pure hatred across the table. 'I suppose you agree with her—the family sticking together and all that?'

'I think money should be earned,' he gave her partial agreement. 'I don't subscribe to donating to causes, no matter how worthy, not unless they've made some effort to help themselves.'

'Oh, hell!' she muttered under her breath as she made way for the waiter and then gazed down at the plate he had put in front of her. She felt sick with disappointment and the food looked revolting. Automatically, she gathered up her bag and made to rise. 'It seems, Mr Thalassis, you've been wasting my time. I'd better get in touch with my mother straight away, her time's running out.'

'Sit down and don't start losing your temper,' he advised calmly in a low voice, and his hand found her wrist across the table and squeezed it mercilessly. 'Don't make a scene.' His voice was low, but there was a threat in his eyes. 'I haven't said you won't have the money, merely that I think it should be earned and not just given to you because of who you are.'

Hester relaxed and put down her bag. 'I could hardly ask for it if I wasn't who I am,' she pointed out sweetly.

'And of course, I have to make sure that you won't make a habit of demanding money from your—er— natural mother.' He ignored her remark as though she hadn't spoken. 'That's a very important point.'

'You don't have to worry about that,' she interrupted. 'This one big payment guarantees a complete loss of memory on my part.'

'But as I said, money should be earned. Are you willing to work for it?'

This was all a game and Hester decided to treat it as such. She shrugged gracefully and applied herself to succulent pieces of lamb and mushroom. 'Provided the work's not too arduous,' she murmured. 'I have to think of my health. What's your proposition?' she demanded. 'And you'd better make it believable, because I'm not a fool and I shan't fall for a con. There's no way I know of earning that amount of money by the weekend, but if you've come up with a bright idea, I'll consider it. I'm open to suggestions and if it's that good, I might even take it up full-time.'

'You still cling to the time limit?' Hester once more had the feeling she was being a source of amusement to him, that he wasn't taking her seriously enough, and her voice sharpened until it gained almost the strident cockney tones of her childhood.

'Of course, it's the done thing among us blackmailers. What's the use of a nebulous threat? It's not forceful enough.' She became aware of his frown and lowered her voice to a husky murmur. 'I work to a timetable—Mrs X this month, Mrs Y next month. I'm a deep-dyed villainess!'

'You're a very charming liar…'

'… And you're wasting my time,' she interrupted forcefully.

'But aren't you ashamed of what you're doing?'

'
Me
? Ashamed? Now why should I be that?' she marvelled at his lack of understanding. 'If somebody's willing to pay to keep their affairs quiet, it's because they're ashamed, not me! Vilma's afraid she might lose her entree to the upper circles, and having a lot of money, clothes and all the jewellery she needs doesn't mean a thing unless she can show them off in all the right places and to all the right company—go to Cannes, Nice and Monte Carlo on all the right people's yachts…'

'But the right people, as you call them, also have their little secrets,' he pointed out. 'Nobody's without something to remind them of a mistake they once made.'

'And I know that as well,' she retorted. 'But the right people don't abandon a child as Vilma did. Their little bastards exist, but generally there's some responsibility shown for them. There's money for their clothes and education. If you had a come-by-chance child, you'd take a bit of interest in it, wouldn't you?'

'I do!' Demetrios laid down his fork and looked into her shocked eyes. 'That's part of my proposition. I'm offering a home, a wedding ring, a life free from monetary worries together with twenty thousand pounds, the sum you're demanding, but in return I shall expect to get a stepmother for my own—er— "adopted" daughter. I've chosen you because you evidently want the money and I think you might have an empathy with the child, a common bond of sympathy, feeling as strongly as you do.' He paused as though considering what to say next, ignoring Hester's open mouth and stunned expression.

She recovered quickly. 'Not on!' The surprising thing was that she believed him, but she played for time. 'I told you, it has to be Vilma's money. Yours won't do.'

'Oh, it will be,' he assured her, and his smile wasn't pleasant. 'You could say that I'm the paymaster of the company, so Vilma won't get her annual and usual allowance this year and since she won't be able to complain to her husband—who, by the way is my uncle—she'll have to make up the deficit out of her own pocket, won't she?'

'Her husband allows her twenty thousand pounds a year?' Hester almost gulped for breath. To her, it was all the wealth of the Indies, and she couldn't bring herself to believe that one person could spend that amount of money in just twelve months.

'No,' Demetrios was unmoved. 'But she already owes some considerable sums; furs, jewellery, clothes and so forth which I would have paid for her. After all, it would be bad for the company image to have the wife of Sandros Thalassis sued for debt. The sums owing, together with what I would have paid her, amount to slightly more than you ask for, so she'll have a very lean year. I've given you my terms, so it's up to you. Take them or leave them.'

'And—what makes you think I'd even consider…' All Hester's carefully laid plans were crumbling into ineffectual dust and she felt on the brink of tears.

'Simple,' he broke in on her. 'You want a lot of money and you want it quickly. I shan't ask for your reasons, they don't concern me, not yet, but I can get you what you want, and it has to be on
my
terms. I'll give you half an hour to think it over, and after that you're on your own.' Again, his dark eyes gleamed with a smile and his lips curved sardonically. 'Personally, I don't give much for your chances with Vilma, not if you've a deadline. She'll stall you as long as she can and she'd cut off her right arm before she parted with one diamond or one sable coat—and as I've already explained, she won't have the cash to give you.'

'Then she can use some of her own.' Hester was sturdy. 'Her uncle left her a small fortune and she's already had one other rich husband…'

Demetrios shook his head at her naivety. 'Most of that's already spent. If one wishes to catch a prize as rich as Sandros Thalassis, one can't be mean about the quality and quantity of the bait.' There was disillusion in his eyes and a cynical twist to his mouth.

Hester covered her disappointment well, although her heart had dropped right to the soles of her high-heeled shoes. She gave a slight shrug.

'I'll need to know a bit more,' she murmured. 'It's rather a big decision to rush into and you really aren't giving me much time.' She pushed her plate aside and shook her head at his offer of a sweet. 'Just coffee, thank you. Do we talk about it now?' Nothing was going as she'd planned and hoped, and she'd been so sure… Dejection settled on her, giving her mouth a sad, weary droop.

'Over coffee,' he said adamantly, and turned to give instructions to the waiter who was hovering. 'I've ordered some little cakes and there's a wide choice of fruits and cheeses—do you want a liqueur with your coffee?'

'No, thank you.' Hester chose that moment to remember Flo's oft-repeated warnings about men who tried to get a girl drunk—it struck her as being excruciatingly funny, almost to the point of hysteria, and she choked back a desire to break into wild, uncontrolled laughter. 'But why me?'

He shrugged. 'I have to make a home here for my daughter—my present arrangements have ceased rather abruptly. Besides, I think it's about time she lived with me, and that means a female to look after her and my home.'

'But you could employ a nanny and a housekeeper,' she quibbled. 'Surely that would be better than going in for anything as binding and permanent as marriage—especially to me! You can't have a very high opinion of me.'

'My daughter needs more than a nanny and a housekeeper,' he said flatly. 'Surely you know that? She needs to be part of a family, to be loved, to be made to feel secure—no different from the other children she'll meet. You were fostered, weren't you? And you felt the difference, I'm sure.'

'No, I didn't,' she protested vigorously. 'My foster-parents were real parents to me. It wasn't until I was eighteen that I knew differently.'

'But I've no intention of fostering my daughter,' he pointed out. 'She'll live with me, in a household as' regular as I can make it. As for why I've chosen you, I thought I'd made that clear—my opinion of you doesn't enter into it. You'll understand what sort of a home Khadija needs.'

'Khadija?' Hester raised her eyebrows. 'That doesn't sound Greek.'

'A name's a name,' he frowned. 'It's of no consequence, and I always call her Katy.'

'And that's your only reason for offering me help to get the money—and a wedding ring thrown in?' She was disbelieving, and her disbelief was justified.

'Not entirely.' Demetrios leaned back in his chair and surveyed her blandly. 'I shall expect you to give me a son.'

Hester went rigid, her face paled, but she retained her composure. 'I think this conversation would have been better conducted over a telephone,' she murmured. 'I'd have hung up on you long before now.'

'One reason I decided to have it in a public restaurant.' His mouth curved into a smile of derision. 'I knew I could rely on your behaviour in public. Are you going to accept my proposition?'

'I suppose I should be thankful you didn't say proposal,' she sniffed, 'and I suppose I should be equally grateful for your—I can't call it honesty—I think a better word would be "crudity". So it's not just for the look of things?'

'Certainly not!' This time she was sure of the derision that lit his eyes. 'Such a relationship would be unnatural—it couldn't be sustained. Either of both of us would weaken, and then there would be tearful scenes of recrimination and you'd be awash with either guilt or self-pity.'

'Neither of which would affect you, of course.' She bit into a piece of something very sweet and cloying which tasted as though it was made of nuts and honey and abandoned it after that first bite, grimacing at the sweetness.

'I certainly shouldn't feel any guilt,' he chuckled.

'Why should I, about a perfectly normal need?' He glanced at his watch. 'You've only ten minutes left to make up your mind,' he reminded her.

Very steadily Hester returned his gaze. There wasn't all that much to think about—there wasn't any other way she could think of to get a very large sum of money and to get it quickly. But she didn't want to appear too desperate; he could easily take advantage of that, reduce the pay-off or something equally disastrous.

'Make it a quarter of an hour,' she answered him lightly. 'I'll have a cup of coffee to wash away the taste of that thing,' she gestured at the plate. 'A little of it goes a long way, and when my mouth feels clean again, I'll give you an answer. Personally, I think you're asking rather a lot. You drive a hard bargain.'

'For twenty thousand pounds cash and a lifetime of security?' Demetrios shook his head and his hand reached out to cover hers where it lay on the table. The touch of his long fingers sent what felt like an electric current through her whole body and she drew a sharp breath. 'You set the fashion of time limits, I'm merely following your example, and I think the arrangement should work very well. You don't seem to find my touch distasteful.'

'You'd accept my word? Me, a self-confessed blackmailer?' Hester raised her eyebrows and watched him smile in a satisfied way.

'No,' he was bluntly rude. 'I'm a business man and I've found that promises don't pay dividends. Oh,' as he saw her angry look, 'I'll trust you with the money for a few days, but I'll make damn sure you don't doublecross me. Money is only money, but my private affairs are another matter. I'm laying myself open to your type of blackmail.'