LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter Two

      Melina rushed to keep up with Warrington’s long strides. As she reached the first bend in the path, her satchel strap slipped from her shoulder to her elbow. The weight pulled at her arm, but she kept the stone cradled. The bag bumped against her leg, slowing her pace.

      She paused and he immediately stopped and turned to her. He’d been as aware of her footsteps as his own.

      Warrington reached a hand out to her, gesturing for the bag, and she met his eyes. Reassured, she hefted the rock in one hand and let the errant strap slip into her grasp. He took the weight from her, tossing the leather sling over his shoulder.

      Muffled tones reached her ears. She focused on the sounds. Two men talked as they moved towards the path. Her heart thudded when she recognised the voice of Stephanos, the man who planned to wed her. He was moving in their direction. A few more steps and he would see them. She’d be trapped.

      ‘Skase,’ she whispered, and then remembered her English. ‘Quiet.’

      Warrington studied her, but gave a small lift of his chin in agreement.

      She brushed past him, nodding for him to follow her. Snaking through the gnarled trees, she ran towards a knoll that rose just enough that they couldn’t be seen from the path.

      She reached the hiding place and pulled him beside her, hoping they would not be seen. Listening, she realised the men no longer talked. Stephanos and the other man were silent—unmoving.

      Fear crept into her body, clutching at her insides. If Stephanos saw her with Warrington, the Greek would not ask any questions, but would find his own answers. Stephanos and his friends always carried knives and they were skilled with them.

      After a few moments of nothing, she heard the word, gida, and relaxed. Goat.

      The men continued on. She heard their voices fading away and her breathing returned to normal. Warrington put a hand on her shoulder, the warm grasp somehow reassuring. He tugged her around to him and put his face so near hers that the breath of his whisper touched her cheek. He didn’t release her, but his grip was soft.

      ‘Have you stolen the stone?’ he asked, words quiet, creating a haven around her.

      She would have confessed all if she’d done wrong. ‘No. The man who owns the land where I found the treasure knows what I have planned. We are in agreement and he has said he’ll keep my secret. I trust him.’

      Just the gentlest touch of his hand again, moving over the crest of her shoulder and the merest bit down her back, and the waiting look in his eyes, trapped her in an intriguing web and she could not stop her words. ‘When they are sure I am safely gone a long distance, my sisters are to say I’ve been forced away by a man from a ship.’

      His eyes widened and he stepped back as if she’d prodded him away with a burning stick.

      He opened his mouth to speak, but she closed the distance between them, stopping almost against him. She could not risk him raising his voice.

      ‘You must understand our reasons,’ she said quietly. ‘No one will know who you are. My sisters will not describe the true person.’

      He pulled the satchel from his shoulder and she could tell he meant to leave her there and go on his way.

      ‘No,’ she whispered, closing her fingers over his roughened hand, preventing him from giving her the bag. His knuckles were large in her grasp, startling her, and she knew she didn’t keep them closed by her strength any more than she caused the tides. Confusion flashed behind his eyes and something whispered in her that she had trapped his hand—that he could no more move his fingers than if their grasps had been reversed and his strength held her.

      She could not lose her advantage. ‘I am not a thief. I merely wish to get to the British Museum and find out what my treasure is worth. Then I will be able to sell it.’

      ‘But kidnapped?’ He remained with his face almost at hers. ‘That’s a bit much.’

      She closed her lips and let her breath out through her nose before she answered, ‘I have no choice.’

      ‘I do.’ He kept his words tight and lines appeared at the sides of his eyes and mouth. ‘I am not at ease with purchasing a woman and I certainly wouldn’t steal one.’

      The words pleased her, yet they were not what she wanted to hear.

      She had to convince him. She held his gaze with her own. ‘It is necessary. My sisters can’t be hurt by my actions. The man who rules the island would be enraged at them if he thought they had helped me leave and did not search him out to keep me. They would suffer. They could be starved, or beaten, or forced into marriage or worse. I cannot escape and leave them behind to face torture.’

      She felt his movement and looked down to her hand. She’d tightened her grip on his fingers. He slowly slid his hand from hers.

      ‘You’re leaving behind a man.’ His words were thoughtful.

      She had to make him understand. ‘Our land doesn’t support my sisters. The rocks only grow more rocks. I care nothing for the man who wishes to marry me, yet his mother often sees that we have food. If I stay, I will have no choice but to wed him. She wishes for it. So does he. He is powerful.’

      Stephanos controlled the island and did so easily. But he had other secrets. He often left the island and returned with goods. One of his shirts was mottled with faded brown stains. Blood.

      She could barely keep the kindness in her words when Stephanos called on

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