Brooke tossed the phone onto the middle of the bed and took several deep breaths until the tightness in her throat eased. After a few more deep breaths, the urge to throw herself onto the mattress and scream into a pillow subsided, too. Everything would work out just fine. Somehow it always did.
Applying a bright smile to her face, she strolled along the terrace. But as she stepped into the living room of the main house, the absolute quiet told her something was awry. A quick check confirmed her suspicions, but what clinched it was the car missing from the driveway.
Nic had vanished.
Two
Nic had switched from Greek coffee to beer by the time Brooke showed up in Kioni, the village rising from the harbor to cling to the side of Ithaca’s rocky hills. From the shade beneath the taverna’s white awning, he squinted against the bright sunlight sparkling off the cerulean water and watched his thirty-four-foot cruiser pull alongside the quay. Three Greek men, each wearing broad smiles, converged to issue instructions and help Brooke settle the boat. Although the distance prevented Nic from hearing their conversation, from Brooke’s animated gestures and the men’s cheerful faces, he guessed she was chattering away and doing what she did best: charming men.
“You’re not drinking them as fast today.”
Nic switched his attention to the voluptuous, dark-haired, dark-eyed waitress standing at his side. Natasa had waited on him all but one of the past ten days he’d been on the island. She picked up his half-full bottle, which he’d been nursing for the past hour.
“I’m not as thirsty.”
Since arriving on Ithaca, Nic had been keeping himself anesthetized with boredom and beer. The combination was barely enough to keep his demons at bay. Before Brooke’s arrival he’d given himself a week or so before he had to make peace with his failures and accept his fate. Now it was all coming to a head faster than he could handle.
Natasa gave him a smoky look and set her hand on her hip. “Perhaps you need some company.”
Nic hadn’t seen her flirt with any of the other men that came to the taverna, only him. He figured she knew who he was and suspected that had prompted her offer. Acid churned in his gut. Being treated like a personality rather than a person was something he hadn’t had to endure in America. He hadn’t had to be on his guard and question everyone’s motives.
“I get off in two hours,” she continued. “I would be happy to join you then.”
Natasa had made him a similar proposition last night at closing time. Nic had been moderately drunk, but not enough to wish to share the bed with this woman, no matter how attractive she was. His carefree bachelor days had ended a month ago with Gabriel’s marriage. Soon every woman he glanced at twice would become fodder for news stories.
It was worse for him being in Europe than living in America. In California he was an anonymous scientist trying to build a rocket ship. On this side of the Atlantic, he was known as Prince Nicolas, second in line to the throne of Sherdana. Avoiding reporters and paparazzi and being wary of helpful strangers had become a routine part of his life. That’s why he and his brothers had chosen Ithaca as a retreat. Homer had described the island as “good for goats” but it gave the Alessandro brothers an escape from their hectic world.
Not that Nic was a fool. He knew his “anonymity” on this sleepy island was tenuous at best. But he and his brothers maintained a low profile, and the locals generously pretended the Sherdanian royals were like any other part-time inhabitants.
“I’m afraid I’m already due for some company,” Nic said, nodding toward the harbor.
When the boat was snugly tied, three tanned hands extended to help Brooke onto the quay. She seemed to hesitate before accepting the hands of the two men nearest to her and offering the third man an engaging smile.
Natasa shielded her eyes as she gazed in the same direction Nic was looking. “Isn’t that your boat?” Her keen black eyes narrowed as she glanced at him for confirmation.
“Yes.”
“And the girl?”
“She’s staying with me for a few days.” Until the words left his lips he hadn’t realized he’d changed his mind about putting her on a plane home as soon as humanly possible. Keeping her around was a mistake, but he was feeling battered and raw. Her company was the balm his psyche needed. He just needed to keep her at arm’s length.
Natasa sniffed and tossed her head. Then, without another word, she turned to go. Nic gave a mental shrug. He’d retreated to Ithaca to come to grips with his future, not to tumble into some local’s bed. He liked his own company. In fact, most days, he preferred it. Why didn’t people understand that and leave him alone?