Moon over the Mediterranean by Sheri Cobb South

Author:Sheri Cobb South [South, Sheri Cobb]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romantic Suspense
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 2017-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Kiss me, and be quiet.

LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU,

A Summary of Lord Lyttelton’s Advice

I woke abruptly to find myself safe in my own stateroom, with brilliant sunlight spilling through the small gap between the curtains. The ship’s engines were silent, and I realized we were no longer moving. The nightmares of the previous night had all been banished by the brilliant light of day, and we had arrived at the Greek island of Mykonos. I threw back the covers, hurried to the porthole, and flung back the curtain. The water was as blue as ever, while on land, a cluster of whitewashed buildings hugged the shoreline, blinding in the sun. To their right, half a dozen stout thatch-roofed windmills stretched bare spokes against the sky—the famous windmills of Mykonos. Farther inland, a few widely spaced buildings straggled up the hill, their square shapes and whitewashed walls giving them the appearance of a handful of dice rolled by a giant hand.

“Zeus’s, I suppose,” I told Pedro as I turned back into the room and pulled a blue and white seersucker sundress from its hanger in the closet. “After all, this is his territory.”

Fraternization between crew and passengers, although not expressly forbidden, was not encouraged—at least not beyond the crewmen’s availability as extra dance partners—so Markos and I had agreed not to meet on the ship; instead, he had promised to wait for me ashore. He proved to be as good as his word, standing at the foot of the gangplank casually dressed in dun-colored trousers and a white cotton sport shirt that made the most of his bronzed skin and dark hair.

“Good morning,” he called cheerfully. “I hope you slept well.”

I shuddered at the wisps of nightmare that lingered in my mind. “About as well as can be expected.” I glanced back at the ship, which rivaled the white buildings in its brilliance. It was hard to believe that somewhere in a cool, dark hold deep within the ship, lay Sylvia’s body. Mykonos was too small to boast an airport, so the body would remain aboard until we reached Istanbul. Or so the rumors at breakfast had said. It was amazing how quickly word got around in the close confines of the ship.

“Don’t think about it,” Markos said, reading my thoughts with very little difficulty. “There’s nothing you can do, so at least for today, put it out of your mind and enjoy your visit to Mykonos.”

I gave him a feeble smile. “Words to live by,” I said, although privately I thought they were probably easier to say than to do.

“I suppose you want to see the windmills first,” he said. “Everyone does.”

I agreed to this plan, and allowed him to lead the way. We passed along the town’s waterfront, and then through a maze of narrow flagstone-paved streets flanked with whitewashed walls that blocked any hint of a breeze. I took off my wide-brimmed hat and fanned my face with it for a moment before plunking it back on my head.

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