Читать книгу Secret Paradise - Dara Girard - Страница 11

Chapter 3

Yes, this was paradise. Nikki stood on the balcony, a slight breeze blowing the white cotton skirt she wore. It blended with the top she’d gotten from a local woman on the mainland. She’d stopped there for the day and roamed the market to get a feel of the culture. She saw some of the women wearing white skirts and patterned tops and asked one of them where she could purchase a similar outfit. The old lady in the store looked at Nikki, confused, so speaking in broken Greek and with a flash of money, she was able to make her request understood. The woman took the money, while still shaking her head, but left and came back with the two items Nikki wanted.

Nikki didn’t care that the woman thought she was odd. She liked the loose-fitting style and wanted to feel a part of the land and culture and immerse herself in it. That meant shedding her typical New York clothes for bright colors and soft cotton fabrics that let her skin breathe. She turned her face to the warmth of the sun, which sat high in the cloudless blue sky. She loved the consistent warm weather, as well as the silence around her. She could actually hear her heart beating. There were no car fumes, flashing traffic lights or pounding footsteps on concrete.

The journey had been long, but she’d been treated like a queen—from her ride in Kontos’s private jet to the luxury hotel on the mainland, where she stayed for a night until arrangements for transportation to the island could be made. There were only two ways to reach it: by boat or by helicopter. She’d first spotted the mansion as she sailed high over the water. As they approached the island, it came into view, the greenery seeming to make way for the soaring cliffs and the majestic structure, which appeared like a magical castle created out of the rock by a bolt of lightning from the gods. It was both wild and tamed, elegant and frightening. Nikki instantly fell in love.

She had never been in love before but could imagine these were the symptoms—racing heartbeat, breathlessness, a feeling as if she could float on a cloud. Yes, she was in love and she never wanted to come down. She stared at the magnificent structure with lust. There were so many things she could do. A feeling of rightness settled over her.

A driver met her once the helicopter had landed, and drove her to the mansion, which was even more amazing when seen from the ground, with its vine-laden steel balcony railings and sconces. This was where she was meant to be. When she was a little girl, she’d seen a postcard of a castle in Spain and imagined decorating every room. This was that dream coming true. Nikki rested her arms on the balcony railing and looked out at the landscape, spotting other villas along the cliffs and some down near the water. The wind carried the scent of the sea, which mingled with the aroma of fresh flowers. The island was a study in tranquility, but she couldn’t say the same for the house. Once she’d stepped inside, she felt an emptiness. Despite the elaborately decorated hallways, the rooms she was hustled past were bare and sat neglected, with the eeriness of an empty tomb. Although the house had been rebuilt, there seemed to be a dark energy of melancholy that still lingered.

However, someone had taken care to make sure that her room was comfortable, with its expansive poster bed covered with expensive bedsheets and silk pillows, but that same care and attention hadn’t gone into the rest of the house. She hadn’t met the owner yet or Callia, but Nikki wasn’t concerned. She knew there was plenty of time for that. She could just roam about a bit and get ideas.

Nikki had started to turn from the balcony when she glanced down and saw a man running, then another, followed by a third. Their movement and expressions told her that something was wrong. She went to the hallway and saw one of the household staff frantically grabbing a blanket.

“What’s wrong?” she asked her.

“I don’t know. I just have to get these,” the woman said. Then her small, wiry figure hurried down the stairs and out the door.

Nikki followed. She wasn’t as nimble as the woman as they made their way through the dense brush. Suddenly, the woman stopped and Nikki saw a crowd of people looking down into what appeared to be a tunnel. She glanced up and saw a man standing a few feet away. His back was turned to the excitement. Aside from his apparent disinterest, he was a hard figure to miss, dressed in light khaki trousers and an orange shirt, his hand gripping a wooden cane. But he leaned on it as if he didn’t really need it. He wasn’t what she’d expected. For a man who shied away from cameras, he looked like he would relish the attention.

Nikki walked over to him and then noticed the young woman by his side. She fit Monica’s description of Callia. An older woman stood beside her and cast Nikki a curious glance but remained quiet.

“Mr. Kontos?” Nikki said, prepared to introduce herself.

He turned around.

Nikki blinked. He was beautiful. Exquisite. An Adonis dipped in honey. Every line of his face was perfection.

She held out her hand. “I’m Nikki Dupree.”

He gave her hand a firm handshake and flashed a beautiful smile. “We were wondering when you’d get here. Sorry we didn’t meet you at the house, but there’s been an incident with one of the caves.”

“Caves?” Nikki said with a frown. “It looks like a tunnel to me.”

“This island is full of underground caves and tunnels, so be careful. Don’t go and explore them, or you could end up dropping six feet down and could find yourself being swept out into the sea.”

Nikki turned back to the crowd. “Is that what this is about? Someone fell in?”

“Yes,” Callia said.

Kontos rolled his eyes. “Not someone. Something. Pauline. That’s Callia’s kitten.”

“She threw her in,” Callia said.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Kontos said in an indulgent tone.

Callia scowled. “She hated cats.”

“And she’s not here. Don’t make things up.”

“I’m not making it up.”

“Who are you talking about?” Nikki asked.

“The ghost,” Callia replied.

Kontos waved his hand. “Ignore her.”

“But I saw—”

“Quiet.”

Callia shifted from one foot to the other. “Please let me go close and see—”

“No,” the woman beside her said. “You’re to stay right here.”

“But—”

“Listen to Kay,” Kontos said.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Callia grumbled.

Nikki looked at the other woman, who was heavyset, with a nervous energy. Her eyes shifted back and forth, as if they didn’t know where to settle. Callia was going on fifteen now. That seemed old enough for her to look after herself. Why would she have a babysitter?

Nikki was about to ask why Callia thought someone had thrown her cat in when the young woman pointed with excitement.

“Look!”

Nikki turned and saw a massive form appear out of the cave—a head first, then gigantic forearms covered with muck and mud. Nikki gasped, remembering a horror film she’d once seen as a child about a swamp creature that had terrified a town. She knew he was a man, but he didn’t look like one. He resembled some dark creature of brutish strength rising from the underworld. He had a large gash, with a thin stream of blood running from it, on the side of his head, and his cream shirt and dark trousers were soaking wet. But there was still something captivating about him that kept her gaze transfixed. He rested on his knees and reached inside his shirt and pulled out a little object. It looked like a drowned rat, but Nikki guessed it was Pauline. It lay lifeless on the ground.

“Poor thing,” Kontos said with a sad shake of his head.

Callia cried out in despair and escaped his reassuring grasp. She pushed through the crowd and fell on her knees beside the body. “She killed her.”

The other man silently picked up the kitten and blew into its mouth and nose and pumped its chest. It gasped, then threw up water, but remained limp in his large hands. The man began to rub it.

“What the hell is he doing?” Kontos said.

Nikki knew, but she also knew that his hands were too large to perform the delicate task. She pushed through the small crowd and took the kitten from him. She didn’t know if he spoke English or not, but she didn’t feel in the mood to explain herself. She knelt in front of him and rubbed the kitten, then shook it up and down. Come on, she silently prayed, hoping that she was doing it right. She’d once seen Monica’s friend Treena, a veterinarian, do this on a runt puppy. Slowly she felt life returning, and the kitten opened its eyes and released a weak cry.

“You saved her!” Callia said, giving Nikki a quick hug. She kissed the other man on the cheek, took an offered towel and wrapped the kitten, then raced away. Kontos handed the man the wooden cane.

The man turned to Nikki. “Thanks for all your help,” he said softly. He had ruggedly handsome features, ink-black hair, compelling green eyes, a hard mouth, and slowly a realization surfaced. Yes, this was the type of man who would stay in the shadows, who would shy away from photographs. His commanding stance was a clear indication that he was a man of power, used to having people follow his orders. She saw scars on his arm and another on his neck. This must be Lucian.

Nikki stared at him, knowing she should say something, but unable to get her lips to move. This was the man her sister had spoken about in such glowing terms? It had been a strange first encounter. Even though she couldn’t speak, she forced her mouth into a smile.

That effort caught his attention and his piercing emerald eyes turned to her. “You must be the goddess Artemis,” he said, his beautifully accented voice now taking on a husky tone. “You’ve made a young girl very happy. I know that it’s customary to worship at your feet, but please allow me this one little exception.” He drew her close and kissed her.

Nikki was too surprised to protest and expected to be disgusted by his bold action, but she wasn’t. His mouth, which she’d only seconds ago thought hard, was as supple and sweet as melted caramel. Then, too soon, it was over, and he drew away, leaving her lips warm and tingling.

“Thank you,” he said, his eyes blazing. “I’ll make sure to get you a new uniform.”

Nikki blinked. Her voice hoarse, she said, “Uniform?”

“Yes, your clothes are ruined.”

Nikki glanced down at her blouse and skirt, which were covered in mud and muck. “Oh, that’s okay. It was all for a good cause.”

He stiffened, surprised. “You’re American?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you might be—” He stopped and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Maybe I should make some introductions,” the other man she’d mistaken for Lucian said, amused. “I’m Basilio, Lucian’s brother.”

Lucian kept his gaze on her. “It’s rare to have an American working here.” He shrugged. “But the economy is so bad, people get work where they can. Where are you staying?”

“Here,” Nikki said.

“On the island?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

She gestured to the mansion. “At the house.”

He rested a hand on his chest. “My house?”

“Yes.”

He tilted his head to the side. “I thought I’d seen you before. There’s something familiar about you. We must have met in passing?”

“No, but you met my sister, Monica Rozan.”

His face split into a warm smile. “Yes, that’s it. I see the resemblance.”

“Few people do.”

“Then they are blind.”

Nikki blushed and looked away.

“What brings you to the island?”

Basilio broke in. “Why don’t you get changed first, then talk?”

Nikki frowned. “I came because of you.”

Lucian raised a dark eyebrow. “Me?”

Basilio shivered. “Don’t you think it’s gotten a little chilly? We should go inside.”

Nikki ignored him. “Yes, to design a few rooms for you.”

Lucian sent his brother a hooded glance. “Yes, the rooms,” he said in an odd tone, the warmth in his gaze swiftly disappearing. “I’d forgotten about them. Let me change. Then we’ll talk. Excuse me.” He walked away.

Nikki felt her heart sinking as she watched him go. “He didn’t know I was coming.”

“No,” Basilio said quickly, keeping his voice light. “As he said, he just forgot.”

“He’s not the type of man to forget anything. He didn’t expect me to be here.” She turned to Basilio. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry about it. He’ll get used to the idea.”

“So you’re behind this?”

“Well, your sister thought—”

“My sister, too?”

“Nikki, please give this a chance. He needs your help. He just needs a little convincing, that’s all. With you here, it will be a lot easier.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Ready to go home?”

She knew it was a challenge—a dare. Was she brave enough to stay? Nikki thought about her office. Before she’d left New York, her office had been restored, she’d received a glowing report from the mistresses on their new place, she’d cleared her schedule for the next three months and she’d left Benjamin, who still expected a solid answer. No, she didn’t want to go back to her old life. At least not just yet.

She drew her shoulders back and lifted her chin. “I want to stay. Let me show you how persuasive I can be.”

Basilio smiled. “A woman after my own heart.” He took her elbow. “Come on. Let me walk you back to the house.”

She turned and saw a black animal jump from one tree to another. She stepped back.

“Oh, don’t mind him,” Basilio said gently, nudging her forward. “That’s just Lethe, Lucian’s cat.”

“Wasn’t Lethe the river of forgetfulness in a myth?”

“Yes, that’s my brother’s strange sense of humor. There are many things he would like to forget.”

Nikki glanced up at the golden eyes, which seemed to be following them.

“Don’t worry. He rarely attacks.”

Rarely didn’t mean never. Nikki picked up her pace and changed the subject. “What did Callia mean when she was talking about ghosts?”

Basilio shook his head. “It’s all her imagination. Pay no attention to her. She hasn’t been the same since the fire. She sees things that aren’t there. That’s why Lucian hired Kay to stay with her.”

Nikki nodded, not knowing what else to say. If it was all just Callia’s imagination, why did Kay seem so on edge? But that wasn’t her problem. She was here to redesign the house and nothing else.

As they approached the entrance, Nikki noticed a beautiful woman spreading a tablecloth on a wrought-iron glass table on the terrace. She looked like a lovely picture, but out of place. A sullenness surrounded her. She had a wild, elemental beauty, like the gathering of storm clouds that agitate the sea and make the leaves on the trees tremble.

“Who is that?” Nikki asked, intrigued by the woman.

“Iona. One of the few servants who stayed after the fire.”

“Oh, she doesn’t look happy.”

Basilio shrugged. “It’s work. Just stay out of her way and you’ll be fine.”

Nikki definitely would. The other woman looked up with liquid brown eyes. Nikki offered a smile, but the other woman didn’t return it. It didn’t matter, anyway. She had a more pressing issue.

She had to figure out how best to handle a man who didn’t want to work with her. She had no one else to blame for the situation, since she hadn’t let her sister explain anything and had run headlong into this project without getting all the details, such as was Lucian even interested? She knew that her sister and Lucian’s brother had good intentions, but obviously there were reasons why Lucian didn’t want the house redesigned. Were there still memories? Probably. But then again, after four years it was time for him to move forward and she could do that. She would do that. This was her golden opportunity and she wouldn’t let him kick her out of paradise.