The road smoothed out a bit, then made a sweeping turn.
“Just let me say score!” With a little war whoop, Riley arrowed toward the villa. “Not the kind of digs I usually bunk in.”
In rich cream against blue sky, the villa rose on its high perch. It angled toward the sea, offering that sweep of view from front and back. The impressive front boasted enough room for a swath of flowering bushes, a few fruit trees, and a verdant lawn before the stone wall. And there the land dropped off as if cleaved by axes. Even the rough steps leading down to the beach made Sasha think of muscular gnomes or trolls with primitive tools hacking at the stone. It owned a majestic set of doors, jutting terraces, wide expanses of glass.
More flowers, more trees graced the side of the house where a stone pathway wandered. Even as Riley turned off the car, a big white dog, a fuzzy polar bear with a long, feathered tail, came strolling out of the shady trees toward the car.
“He’s huge.” Sasha forgot her nerves long enough for new ones to shove in. “You said friendly.”
“He’s just a big boy. Hey, Apollo—his name’s Apollo.” Fearlessly, Riley got out of the car, crouched, held out a hand.
The dog stopped, stared into her eyes. The moment stretched so long Sasha considered jumping out, pulling Riley back in. Though she wondered if a dog that big could simply eat the jeep, with them in it.
Then he walked over to Riley, tail wagging, and nuzzled her outstretched hand.
“You’re a good boy.” She straightened, set a hand on Apollo’s head when he sat. “What are you guys waiting for?”
“Just waiting to see how big a chunk he might take out of you.” Bran launched himself out of the jeep and, just as casually as Riley, stroked a hand down the dog’s back.
“Come on, Sasha, read him if you’re worried. You should be able to read a dog,” Riley pointed out. “They have feelings. What’s he feeling?”
“Happy.” Sasha sighed and got out of the jeep. “He’s feeling really happy.”
“Pack animals.” Riley bent down, kissed the dog’s head. “Need a pack, and that’s going to be us for a bit. I’ve got the alarm code, too, and it seems the caretakers left the keys in the potted palm by the cliff wall, so . . .”
Riley, striding confidently in worn boots, the dog at her heels, walked over to the wall. “Wowzer view. Have a gander.”
Sasha made herself walk over to the stone wall, and there, far below, was the beach she’d drawn at the table at the tavern, when the image of it had overlaid the other.
“It’s only missing the moon and the woman,” Bran said quietly.
“Say what?”
“I drew this while we were waiting for you at Acharavi,” Sasha told Riley. “I didn’t know where it was. Now I do. She was there, down there at the edge of the water. The woman we haven’t met yet. And the villa was a silhouette on the cliff.”
Pleased, Riley fisted her hands on her hips. “Excellent. So this is where we’re supposed to be.”
“I guess it is.” The dog bumped his head under Sasha’s hand, looked up at her with appealing dark eyes, radiating the happiness she’d just felt from him. It made her smile again. “This is where.”
“Then let’s go check it out. I call first pick on bedrooms.” Riley set off at a run, and with a joyful bark, Apollo raced behind her.
“We can flip a coin for second pick,” Bran offered, and Sasha felt her balance return.
“As if I’d flip a coin with a magician. I call it,” she announced, and ran after the dog.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sasha believed herself to be a creature of order, of practical routine. When she elected to do something outside that routine, it was after careful thought and deliberation.
Or it had been until she’d flown to Corfu.
Now, roughly twenty-four hours after she’d checked in, unpacked her bags, she was packing them again, preparing to check out, to move into a villa with two people she’d known less than a day.
And no matter how many times she questioned the sanity of it, she knew it was the right thing to do. The only thing to do if she wanted real answers.
The villa was beautiful, spacious, and even a woman who considered herself practical couldn’t deny the thrill of walking through it, considering she’d live there for . . .
However long she did.