Secret Paradise
Secret Paradise
Dara Girard
Nikki Dupree feels like the luckiest designer in the world. She's just been commissioned to reinvent the magnificent island home of wealthy recluse Lucian Kontos.From the moment the private plane he sends for Nikki touches down, she's enchanted by the breathtaking sunsets over the shimmering blue waters of the Mediterranean. But all bets are off when Nikki meets her insufferably arrogant alpha employer….After his world was scarred by fire, Lucian thought his life was over. But Nikki could be his second chance. With her sensual beauty and passion for life, she's slowly healing his heart. In her arms, the smoldering secrets of the past are consumed by the desire burning between them. Can Nikki see beyond the past of a wounded man who wants to spend the rest of his days loving her?
Paradise just got a lot hotter
Nikki Dupree feels like the luckiest designer in the world.
She’s just been commissioned to reinvent the magnificent island home of wealthy recluse Lucian Kontos. From the moment the private plane he sends for Nikki touches down, she’s enchanted by the breathtaking sunsets over the shimmering blue waters of the Mediterranean. But all bets are off when Nikki meets her insufferably arrogant alpha employer….
After his world was scarred by fire, Lucian thought his life was over. But Nikki could be his second chance. With her sensual beauty and passion for life, she’s slowly healing his heart. In her arms, the smoldering secrets of the past are consumed by the desire burning between them. Can Nikki see beyond the past of a wounded man who wants to spend the rest of his days loving her?
“You’ve bewitched me.
“You sit there quietly watching me with those eyes of yours unafraid, but also unsure. I can see a cascade of emotions crossing your face, but I can’t read them. You intrigue me even when I don’t want you to. I can’t afford to. But it feels good because you make me forget—” He gripped his hand into a fist. “You make me forget things I have no right to.” He brushed the flower against the hollow of her neck, his gaze trailing behind it like a slow, sensual caress. “Perhaps I’m wrong. You’re not a goddess, you’re a sorceress.”
“No,” Nikki said, breathless and tense lest she do or say anything to break the invisible bond between them. “I have no magic in me.”
“That I find hard to believe.” Lucian lifted Nikki to her feet and his mouth covered hers. The touch and taste of his lips were even better than she’d remembered. Her entire body came alive at his touch. The air felt more fragrant, the breeze cooler and his body solid and as hot as volcanic fire. She surrendered to the demanding mastery of his hands and the practiced persuasion of his mouth. Every fiber of her body went weak at his touch.
He pulled away, his eyes smoldering with fire, but his voice cool. “I didn’t expect this.”
“Neither did I.”
“I shouldn’t let this happen.”
“Then blame me,” Nikki said, bold and impulsive. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
DARA GIRARD
fell in love with storytelling at an early age. Her romance writing career happened by chance when she discovered the power of a happy ending. She is an award-winning author whose novels are known for their sense of humor, interesting plot twists and witty dialogue.
When she’s not writing she enjoys spring mornings and autumn afternoons, French pastries, dancing to the latest hits and long drives.
Dara loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her at contactdara@daragirard.com or P.O. Box 10345, Silver Spring, MD 20914.
Secret Paradise
Dara Girard
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader,
Have you ever wanted to get away from it all? The obligations, the job that no longer excites you, the on-again, off-again boyfriend you should have broken up with months ago? That’s exactly how Nikki Dupree feels when she impulsively takes an assignment to redesign the house of the reclusive Lucian Kontos.
Initially, I thought Nikki would have fun with JD’s brother from All I Want Is You. But they were having too much fun and nothing was happening so I had to go with someone who could prove a challenge to her. Enter JD’s friend Lucian.
Immediately, an electricity ignites between them that seems to expand to everything and everyone around them. An attraction so powerful that even the gods and goddesses of myth seem to take a hand in it.…
So, my dear reader, here is another tale I hope you enjoy.
Dara Girard
Contents
Prologue (#uab9cd516-c7d8-548d-b28f-763418be746d)
Chapter 1 (#ud2461b16-55fb-54c2-a1bd-d5564d8f710d)
Chapter 2 (#uf43d2846-c585-5d33-bbc8-3364cbb9a634)
Chapter 3 (#ub3785cb9-f441-55e9-aab8-469d5ccac917)
Chapter 4 (#uc1c6270b-e0b9-5951-9611-c6de3eb9c4b7)
Chapter 5 (#u6a5039e8-97a9-599b-a166-4933f21124dc)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
He would die tonight in this hell of his own creation. Flames licked at the walls outside his bedroom, shattering the windows down the hall, and turning everything they touched into blackened ash. Everything burned around him and he would soon burn with it. The fire had yet to reach the room where he’d imprisoned himself, but he knew the smoke would take him first. He imagined gossamer black arms seeping under the door, slowly gathering together to strangle him. Lucian Kontos let the smoke invade his lungs, just as he’d let Alana invade his life and his heart.
Even now he could see her face, remember the scent of her lotion, the seductive fragrance of her perfume, the touch of her hand, the beautiful slope of her neck when she threw her head back and laughed. She loved to laugh. It was what had attracted him to her at first. Now he wondered if she’d been laughing at him. It seemed likely now, as he looked back. He’d been a fool. Not only because he’d carelessly let her into every part of his life, but because he’d given her his heart as well. That had made him as weak and blind as a newborn puppy. God, how he’d loved her, and now he’d die because of it. But he welcomed this end. His shame demanded this punishment. It suited his sense of honor and justice. His foolish heart had led him to a fiery grave.
Lucian inhaled the smoke, waiting for the toxins to slowly suffocate him and turn his lungs as black as charcoal, and prepared for death.
“Uncle Lucian!”
The urgent voice of a young girl ripped through the loud roar of the flames. A distant cry that he hadn’t expected to hear.
“Uncle Lucian!”
No, not a cry. A scream. She was screaming for him. Callia. But she wasn’t supposed to be here. She was to be safely away. Miles away. He’d made sure his brother took her with him. Maybe he was hallucinating. Yes, that was it. He was having an auditory hallucination because she was the one thing he truly regretted having to leave behind. But he’d made sure she would be taken care of.
“Uncle Lucian!”
Lucian stiffened in the chair where he’d been awaiting his end and swore. He wasn’t hallucinating. She was here in this inferno he’d once called his home, screaming his name. Instantly the sweet call of death and its promises to end all his suffering no longer mattered. He had to save Callia. He had to reach her. He grabbed a pillowcase and covered his mouth, then went to the door, ignoring the pain in his leg, and opened it. He dropped to his knees so that he could crawl under the layer of black smoke that choked the air. He knew the smoke would overtake them both, so there wasn’t much time to reach her.
“Uncle Lucian!”
He wanted to call out and let her know that he was coming to get her, that he’d do anything to make sure she was safe, but he knew that he couldn’t. He had to reserve what little oxygen he had left.
Lucian reached the stairs and saw the bright glow of the red, orange and yellow flames below and heard her voice again, but he still couldn’t see where she was. He was about to turn away when he saw something wiggle on the floor. That was when he noticed her fingers. He rushed forward and saw Callia hanging from the edge of one of the steps where a staircase used to stand.
“Callia!”
She looked up, her eyes wide with terror. It mirrored his own—as if they’d found each other locked together in purgatory—but he quickly replaced his fear with a steely determination. She would not die. He wouldn’t think of the long drop that awaited her if she fell or the flames that shot up to seize her.
“I can’t hold on,” she said.
“You must hold on to me.” He grabbed the railing, praying for it to hold, and wrapped an arm around her neck. He straightened, then grabbed her around the waist as the stair fell away. There was no way out except up. He lifted her in his arms and dashed toward a room off to the side and closed the door, knowing they didn’t have much time before the fire reached them.
He pounded his fist against the door, then turned to her. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “I sensed something was wrong and I told Basilio.”
“And he brought you back here?” Lucian said, angered that his younger brother would ignore his orders. He’d come back into his life only eight months ago, after nearly a decade of separation. “Where is he?”
“He’s not here.”
“Then who brought you here?”
“I don’t know.”
“You have to know,” Lucian said, pressing her, eager for details. The information she knew was vital to him. “You didn’t get here by magic.”
“I really don’t know how I got here. I woke up in my room and smelled the smoke. At first I thought I was dreaming.”
Lucian pounded the door again. It was even worse than he’d imagined. Someone must have drugged her and placed her in the house, knowing what was going to happen. But why? “When you woke up, you should have tried to escape.”
“But I had to find you first to warn you. I knew you were in danger.”
He gritted his teeth. “That’s why you should have stayed away.”
Callia blinked and he saw the tears. He rarely lost his temper with her, but he couldn’t comfort her now. She was only eleven but already had her mother’s beauty and her father’s defiant nature. Now wasn’t the time to argue. Silence was better. He needed to think. He walked toward a set of windows and winced as a shooting pain ripped through his side, making him feel as if he’d aged a hundred years.
Callia took a step toward him. “You’re hurt.”
Lucian held his hand out, keeping her away. “I’m fine,” he lied. Yes, he hurt. He hurt all over, as if every nerve ending had been electrified, but that didn’t matter now. He needed to keep her safe. Lucian opened one of the windows and lifted her onto the windowsill. “I’m going to throw you into the pool.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“There’s no reason to be afraid. It will be okay.”
“I want you to come with me. Let’s jump together.”
“No need. You know how to swim.” He lifted her up.
She grabbed the window frame. “No.”
“Callia, listen to me.”
She fought him even harder. “No!”
“You must jump,” he demanded, struggling with her.
“No!” she screamed. Her resistance was just as frantic as when he’d found her on the stairs, clinging for her life.
He released his hold and stared at her, bewildered. “Why not?”
“If you let me go, you won’t come with me.”
Lucian silently swore, hung his head and released a heavy sigh. She knew him too well. Sometimes he wondered why this strange little girl loved him so much. Especially since he was the cause of her father’s death.
He lifted his head and met her eyes, his voice stern. “Callia, you are going to listen to me.” He cupped her face in his hands. He’d never pleaded in his life, but this time he would for her sake. “My little one. Please listen to me. Your life is all I treasure. Save it for me.”
“No. Either I live with you or I die with you.”
A part of him wanted to laugh at her bold statement, and another part wanted to shake her. This skinny little thing who was all arms and legs wanted to fight him? He could easily overpower her, and if he had more strength, he would have by now. He knew he could crush her body, but not her will. He heard the roar of the flames at the door and saw fear enter her eyes. She didn’t want to die, despite her rash claim, and she didn’t deserve to.
She grabbed the front of his shirt in her tiny fist. “Come on, Uncle Lucian. Let’s go.” She tightened her grip. “Jump with me.”
“We don’t have time for this.”
She buried her face in his neck. “Please, Uncle Lucian. Please don’t leave me alone.”
“You won’t be alone. You’ll have—”
She vigorously shook her head and said in a trembling voice, “No, please. Please!”
“Shh. Don’t cry.” He sighed. “Okay. I’ll jump after you.”
She shook her head again.
“I promise.”
“You promise, really?” She held out her hand.
He took it and held it against his chest, over his heart. “I promise. On my soul.” He kissed her hand, then released it. “Now, let’s go.”
She looked at him.
He turned her face. “Don’t look back at me. Only look ahead. Remember what I taught you?”
“Where I’m going matters more than where I’ve been,” she said, as though repeating a solemn vow.
“Right.”
She hugged him. “I love you, Uncle Lucian.”
“I know,” he said impatiently, disentangling himself from her grasp. They didn’t have time. He had to get her to safety. “Face forward.”
She did, and he threw her out the window and watched her fall into the water. He waited for her to emerge to the surface and felt his tense heart relax when he saw her head pop up and she swam to the edge of the Olympic-size pool. She was safe.
The fire was at the door. Lucian could hear it pressing against the wood, wanting entrance. He turned to the door, knowing that in an instant it could all be over. All the secrets, betrayal and curses could die with him. It was his fate. He turned to the window from which Callia had fallen, and stared at the darkening sky, watching as the sinking sun created the same violent reds and yellows against the horizon as the blaze that consumed his house. He’d promised Callia he would live, even though she’d be better off without him. He’d promised on his soul, but he felt he had no soul to make a promise with. Looking down, he saw her mouth move, but it was too distant to hear. He knew she was calling his name.
He wouldn’t leave her yet; he’d defy fate. He sat on the edge of the window. “I’m coming,” he said, not caring if she heard him or not. He would not leave her afraid. Just as he was pushing away from the windowsill to launch into the air, the fire broke through the door and reached through the room like the long arm of a fiery beast, as if trying to grab him back. Glass exploded above him and the uncontrolled fire continued to fuel itself. Then suddenly there was an explosion caused by a back draft, the result of the fire suddenly receiving oxygen, and it propelled Lucian through the air.
Before he hit the water, he briefly wondered if he’d have a watery grave instead of a fiery one, and then he thought of nothing else.
Chapter 1
Dear God, how was he going to tell her? J. D. Rozan set his phone down and shut off his computer, trying to strategize how best to break the news to his wife.
Monica knew about tragedy. Her first husband had died in a vicious incident, and she’d survived a past that would have sent another type of woman to a mental ward. He’d wanted to protect her from any more pain, but that seemed impossible. The last three years had been perfect. Nothing to mar their idyllic existence at the farmhouse in Georgia. J.D. looked out the window and saw the red flash of a cardinal as it flew past. He thought of their daughter, Starla, who was napping in the upstairs nursery. She was a happy child who giggled at the sound of thunderstorms and loved to jump into puddles. This lazy summer day he’d taken time off because Monica’s sister, Nikki, had come to visit and he planned to take them all to the beach. But that would have to change.
J.D. pushed himself from his chair and left the room he used as a study. He had to tell her. He’d just have to do it fast. He took a deep breath and walked toward his wife’s studio, where she designed jewelry for her clients around the world. J.D. stood in front of the door and raised his hand to knock, then hesitated when he heard Monica’s laughter, followed by her sister’s. J.D. let his hand fall. He could tell her later, at dinner or before they went to bed, but then he didn’t know how much time there was left. She needed to know now. He sighed, then knocked.
“Come in.”
J.D. stepped into the bright, airy studio. He saw his wife and stopped. She was so beautiful that even the sun seemed to seek her out in the room, its tender rays stroking her long, straight black river of hair, caressing her exquisite profile and highlighting her gorgeous eyes. She greeted him with a smile, which always made him want to kiss her. Her younger sister, Nikki, sat in the shadowed corner near the window, wearing jeans and a peasant blouse, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail sporting two silver streaks. She wasn’t as striking as her sister, but she had a unique beauty all her own, sharp hazel eyes and a pug nose. There was no envy between the sisters, just an acceptance similar to how the moon made way for the sun. J.D. was glad she was there.
He took a deep breath and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Monica.” That was all he said. He’d never know if it was the tone or his expression, but something made her drop her tools.
She ran over to him, her eyes wide with fear. “What happened?”
He led her over to a chair. “Sit down.”
She pulled away from him. “Just tell me.”
“It’s Lucian.”
She collapsed into the chair. “He’s dead?”
“Nearly. At this point it’s touch and go. The doctors are doing everything they can for him.”
“What happened?” Nikki asked when her sister remained silent.
“An explosion at his mansion caused a massive fire, and he and Callia were trapped inside and barely escaped. He was badly burned. They had to put him into a coma. His brother Basilio just called me. He wants us to be prepared in case…”
Monica shook her head. “He’s strong.” She returned to her drafting table, as if everything was settled. J.D. shared a look with Nikki. If she wanted to be in denial, who was he to stop her?
Nikki frowned. “Monica, you can’t pretend that he may not make it.”
Monica spun around and glared at her sister. “I’m not pretending anything. I know Lucian Kontos and I know that a man like him will live.”
Nikki rolled her eyes. “Monica—”
“No.”
J.D. shook his head. “Honey—”
Monica looked at him, her lips pursed. “He’ll get through this.” She pointed a pencil at him. “When we went to his island for our honeymoon, I was still having nightmares about my past and couldn’t stop. Do you know what he said? He said that if anything ever happened to you, he’d take care of me. That I was his family, too, and it was real. He sees you as a brother. You can’t give up on him.”
J.D. threw up his hands in frustration. “I’m not giving up on him. I’ve known him for years. I love him as much as you do, but I know about his injuries. He’s been badly burned. This is a man who loves life, and all that it has to offer. He’ll be undergoing several surgeries, but we have to admit that in spite of all the therapy and plastic surgery he may be able to afford, there’s still a limitation to what medicine can do. He may not regain the use of his arm or ever walk again. Even if he lives, he won’t be the same man.”
“He’ll recover,” Monica said defiantly.
J.D. folded his arms and looked grim.
Nikki stiffened. “There’s something else you’re not telling us.”
J.D. nodded. “It’s about the explosion. They think it was arson.”
“Someone tried to kill him?” Monica asked.
“They’re investigating. His brother is looking into all possibilities.”
“I’m sure it was a simple accident,” Nikki said, reading the look of horror on Monica’s face.
Monica shook her head. “That house is enormous. He should have had time to escape.”
“Fires move fast,” Nikki said.
“Mama?” a tiny voice said through the baby monitor.
Nikki stood. “I’ll get her,” she said quickly, then left before anyone could argue.
Monica watched her sister go, then returned her gaze to J.D. “Are you going to see him?”
“When I can. He’s in a secret location, and I’ll wait for word from his brother when it seems safe.”
“Call him back and tell him to tell Lucian about the baby.”
J.D. searched her face, confused. “The baby? What baby?”
She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. “Ours.”
“You’re pregnant?”
She winked.
For a moment J.D. just stared at her, not knowing what to say or even how to feel. At first he felt an almost intoxicating joy; then, as he thought of his friend, guilt and sadness mingled with it.
“He’s in a coma,” J.D. said in a grave tone. “There’s no point.”
“But part of him may hear. The part that wants to live.” Monica caressed the side of his face. “He will live.”
J.D. gathered her close. He closed his eyes, determined to believe her—feeling her warmth and strength and courage. She was right. Lucian was a tough SOB. He would rise like the phoenix.
“Good job!” Nikki said, clapping her hands when Starla threw a stick for the family dog, Baxter, to retrieve. It had barely gone a foot, but Nikki acted as if little Starla had the makings of a javelin thrower. Starla giggled, delighting in her aunt’s praise, and Baxter picked up the stick, his tail wagging. They played in the front yard, where Nikki had taken them after Starla’s nap. She enjoyed being in the outdoors, especially on warm summer days like this. Were she alone, she would be lazing on the porch with a cool glass of iced tea.
“Now it’s my turn,” she said when Baxter dropped the stick at her feet. She picked it up and threw it far enough to give the dog some exercise.
“Good job!” a voice said behind her.
Nikki turned and saw her sister coming out of the house. She held up a hand. “Stop right there.”
Monica paused, puzzled. “What?”
“Do I know you from somewhere? You look vaguely familiar. Has anyone ever told you that you should model?” Nikki chuckled as she took a seat on the porch step.
Monica made a face. “Shut up,” she said in good humor.
“Don’t you sometimes miss those days?” Nikki asked, referring to her sister’s past as a top fashion model.
Monica sat on the porch step above hers. “No. When I’m here, I feel richer than I’ve ever been.”
Nikki could see it. Her sister glowed with good health and happiness. “I’m glad.”
“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier.”
Nikki shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time we argued about a man.”
Monica lowered her head and Nikki fell silent, because they both knew that was true. Nikki had never taken to Monica’s first husband, Delong Price, who’d whisked Monica away and launched her as the international beauty named Venus: a symbol of sex, glamour and elegance. But now those days were over. Nikki looked around her. Her sister and J.D. owned a slice of heaven here. They called it a farmhouse, but over the years it had expanded into a magnificent piece of architecture, while retaining its wholesome feel and charm. Nikki found herself spending any free moment she could find visiting her sister and her family.
She’d never been this close to her sister since they were children. Delong had liked to keep Monica to himself, and if she wasn’t with him, she was working. Now she had her own business and a more relaxed schedule and a man who let her be completely herself. Nikki liked J.D. At first glance she wouldn’t have selected him for Monica. He was handsome, with the cool command of a businessman and the slight ruthlessness that went with it, but she’d never seen that side of him. Only kindness. At times Nikki imagined meeting her own J.D. but always brushed the thought aside. Her sister’s life could never be hers. She did wonder about Lucian though. Anytime J.D. or Monica talked about him, she found herself listening closer. He intrigued her. She knew he’d come to visit a few times, but they always seemed to miss each other. Monica had once mentioned that Lucian had commented on her design skills.
They’d allowed her to infuse the farmhouse with their African American and Native American heritage, and she’d used aging cedar, with ancestral images hand carved into the walls. The front door featured unique symbols of good fortune, but she’d learned what Lucian liked most were the series of retractable skylights she put in the family room. She would have liked to find out what else he’d like, but now it seemed she might never get the chance to meet him.
Baxter returned and dropped the stick in front of them. Monica picked it up and threw it. Starla giggled and Nikki clapped and said in mocking tones, “Good job! Beautiful and strong.”
Monica playfully punched her in the arm. “You’re a nuisance.”
Nikki rested back on her elbows and looked up at the sky. “Did you tell him about the baby?”
“Yes, just a few minutes ago.”
Nikki looked at her, curious. “How did he take it?”
“He’s thrilled.”
“I would have waited until another time.”
Monica shrugged. “I know J.D. He needed something to smile about. He’s really worried about Lucian.”
“I hope your friend makes it.”
Monica pulled a picture out of her pocket and handed it to her. “This is his house.”
Nikki took the photograph and stared at the expansive mansion. “I know. You showed it to me before.” She’d been amazed by the honeymoon photos Monica had shown her of Lucian’s island. Lush, romantic, exclusive. She would have loved the chance to see inside his house. But she’d never been bold enough to invite herself. However, although there were pictures of the island and mansion, there were none of the man. In one photo she’d seen a shadowy figure in the background, but it had been too blurry to make out any features. Monica had told her Lucian didn’t like to have his photo taken and kept to himself.
Nikki handed the photo back to Monica, confused as to why her sister had given it to her. “Most of it has been burned, right?”
“Yes, he’s going to need to rebuild.”
“I’m sure he will.”
“And redesign it.”
Nikki frowned, suspicious. “Where are you going with this?”
“He’s going to need you.”
Nikki laughed. “Me? Why me?”
“Because you’re the best.”
Nikki smiled. “And?”
“And what?”
Nikki narrowed her eyes. “You’re up to something.”
“His place is awe-inspiring.”
“So is the Taj Mahal.”
“Once you get to know him—”
Nikki shook her head. “I’m seeing someone already.”
“I saw the way you looked at his house.”
“Because it’s amazing.”
Monica smiled. “Wait until you meet the man.”
Chapter 2
Four years later
“You bitch!”
Nikki heard the shattering glass just as she entered her office.
“You need to stop looking in the mirror.”
Nikki ducked as a handcrafted vase she’d purchased in Peru went flying past her. She straightened and saw two finely groomed women ready to pulverize each other. Only minutes ago she’d received a frantic call from her assistant, Abby Lagoria, that she had an unexpected guest in her office. The tone of the call had surprised her because usually Abby was unflappable. She was a woman who had the kind of face suited for a cubicle. Non-smiling, dreary and forgettable, but Nikki had hired her because she was efficient. She had a remarkable ability to get things done. No one canceled on her, and bills were always paid. Nothing seemed beyond her capabilities—until now. Evidently here was a situation beyond her. This was a crisis.
The mistress of Senator Allwater had shown up without an appointment. Nikki never saw clients or potential clients without an appointment. It was the best way to train people in how to treat her. She’d discovered early on that you couldn’t be too available to the upper class, or they’d devalue you. Exclusivity was a must. And she was very exclusive. Unfortunately, the usually refined Meredith Weedon had broken protocol, and so had Elissa Gold, Allwater’s second mistress. They’d come to her office, both laying claim to the newly designed apartment he’d paid for.
Meredith, his first mistress, was almost an exact replica of Allwater’s wife: old money and new breasts. His second mistress was a midlife crisis cliché—early twenties, tight clothes and big earrings. She had an expensive beauty that would grow more costly as she aged, because she likely wouldn’t age well. She was reckless with her skin care and smoked and drank as if they were a dietary requirement. But she was young enough to keep the consequences of her behavior at bay, for at least a decade.
Meredith was no less expensive, just better at maintaining herself. Good breeding and care had given her an advantage, but while Meredith was more sophisticated, Elissa was more clever than she looked. Allwater usually kept them separate. The fact that they were both here meant that something had gone terribly wrong.
Meredith flicked back a strand of blond hair, her hand trembling with anger. “I was with him first and have known him a lot longer than you.”
Elissa’s full, pouty mouth spread into a cold smile. “Honey, every man eventually likes to get a younger model.”
“New toys always get replaced.”
Elissa’s smile fell and she picked up a glass statue of two swans in the shape of a heart.
Nikki had had enough. “Put that down,” she said. She saw Elissa’s mouth kick up in a quick malicious grin. “Drop it and I’ll throw a punch that will have you flying through that window.”
Elissa blinked, surprised by Nikki’s violent threat, and slowly set the statue down when she realized from Nikki’s stance that she wasn’t bluffing. “Who are you?”
“The owner of this place,” Abby said, disgusted by the woman’s ignorance.
“Oh, the decorator.”
“The designer,” Nikki corrected.
“She wouldn’t know the difference,” Meredith said with disdain.
Elissa narrowed her eyes. “I know the difference between a cow and a heifer.”
“Sure you do, dear. They were your parents,” Meredith returned.
Nikki spoke up before Elissa lunged at Meredith. “Now, let’s be civil.” She stepped forward and winced at the sound of crunching glass beneath her feet. “I think we can come up with a compromise. There’s enough room to accommodate both of you. I will create two entirely separate apartments—each with its own entrance—and will design your own special space to reflect you intimately, a space that will keep your favorite playboy entertained for life.” She knew she’d hit on the perfect solution when Meredith began asking for a gazillion mirrors and chandeliers, while Elissa requested items for a “naughty” lair to call her own. She recorded their requests and made two separate appointments for further discussion. “Consider it done. I’ll let Angelo know that I’ll be making some changes,” she said, using Allwater’s code name.
After the two women left, Nikki collapsed into her chair.
“I’m so sorry,” Abby said, glancing around the room. “They just showed up and then—”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
Her phone rang and Abby answered. She put it on hold and turned to Nikki. “It’s Benjamin.”
Nikki groaned. Benjamin Leano was a bad habit she needed to break. She thought of coming up with an excuse not to talk to him, then sighed and held out her hand. Abby gave her the phone, then left the room.
“You’re in town?” she said, trying not to sound bored.
“Yes,” he said, surprised. “How did you know?”
It wasn’t a hard deduction. He called her only when he was in town. He was a photojournalist who traveled the world but managed to remember her whenever he was in New York. Two years ago it had seemed like a great arrangement, but now it was wearing thin. “Just a guess.”
“What’s wrong? You sound distracted.”
She looked around her office at the broken vases, the glass, the crooked picture and the tilted plant. She briefly shut her eyes, feeling the slight pounding of an oncoming headache. “Client issues.”
“Poor baby. Let me take you out.”
“That sounds good, but I’m busy.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This isn’t working.”
“I’ll wait if you need to switch phones.”
“Not the lines, us.”
He paused. “You want something more? Marriage? Fine. I’ll marry you.”
Nikki laughed at his flippant attitude. “No, I don’t want to marry you.”
“Why not?”
“Benjamin, you don’t want to get married.”
“That’s not the point. Why wouldn’t you want to marry me? I’m a great catch.”
“Yes, for someone else.”
“Are you interested in someone else? Are you seeing another man?”
“No, it’s not that.” She was just bored. Everything about her life had become routine. The wealthy clients and their tirades, the social events. There were no happy surprises or new discoveries. “I just need a break.”
“We don’t have to go to—”
“Sorry. I have another call I have to take. I’ll call you later.” She hung up before he could argue.
Abby came into the room, looking composed again. She straightened the tilted plant. “I’ve called housekeeping.”
“Thank you.”
“Is Benjamin stopping by?”
“No, never again.”
“Good.”
Nikki looked at her, shocked. “What do you mean?”
“You deserve better. When are you going to start designing your own home?”
“I’ve already designed my place.”
Abby shook her head. “No, not a place. A home—with a fully furnished kitchen and a big family room.”
“And a picket fence and lawn?” Nikki shook her head and laughed. “You’re talking to the wrong sister. That’s not me.”
“Everyone deserves their own space, where they feel complete.”
“Right.”
She knew that better than most. That was why she’d become a designer. She knew what a room could do, how it could make a person feel. But she didn’t need a home of her own. She really liked her apartment and the friends and parties she hosted there. She was just restless. She only wished she knew what to do. She was young, attractive, with a good job and nothing really to complain about, yet she felt like running away.
Nikki stood. “What I need is a challenge. Something big and a little scary. Something to test my skills. Unpredictable.” She looked around her destroyed office and groaned. She obviously wouldn’t find it here. She needed the outdoors; she thought better there. “I’m going to go for a walk.” She grabbed her bag and sunglasses.
Nikki walked several blocks, but the restless feeling still followed. She crossed over to go into Central Park. Then her phone rang. “Yes?” she said as she saw a driver give another the finger and a young child drop his ice cream on the pavement and burst into tears.
“It’s Monica. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” She stepped around a pile of dog poop someone had neglected to pick up. “What’s up?”
“It’s Lucian.”
She stopped. “Has something happened? He’s been out of the hospital for some time now and I thought he was doing fine.”
“He is,” Monica said quickly to reassure her.
“Good,” Nikki said, starting to walk again. Over the past several years she’d become invested in Lucian’s recovery. She’d been just as thankful as J.D. and Monica that he’d pulled through.
“This isn’t a physical problem. It’s his house. He’s been able to rebuild, but the interior is a problem.”
“I’m there,” Nikki said without hesitation. This was the answer to her problems. She knew it. Already a sense of excitement had replaced her restlessness.
“You haven’t let me finish.”
“You don’t need to finish,” Nikki said, picking up her pace. If she were five years old, she would start to skip. “You need me to help him design his place, and I’m up to the challenge.”
“I’m glad, but there are a few things you should know.”
“I’ll find out when I get there.”
Monica hesitated. “He’s not the easiest man to work with. Especially now. He uses a cane and J.D. says he can be very impatient and domineering.”
Nikki brushed her sister’s concerns aside. “I’ve dealt with that type before. Don’t worry about me. I need a change and this is just the kind of project I was waiting for. Nothing can stop me from seizing this opportunity. Give me the details when I get home. I’ll call you.”
“But—”
“Bye.” Nikki hung up the phone and released a little squeal of delight. This project was just what she needed. She’d finally get a chance to see inside the elusive Lucian Kontos’s island mansion and meet the man. She wasn’t sure which intrigued her more.
“Nikki!”
She spun around at the sound of her name and saw Benjamin running toward her. He was the kind of man who looked good in front of a camera and behind it. He had an easy smile and a great body. He moved with practiced grace, which made you feel comfortable around him. He was also the kind of man who was easy to say yes to, which was why Nikki hadn’t broken up with him months ago.
“I’m so glad I found you,” he said, giving her a quick hug.
Nikki stared at him, stunned, and annoyed that he felt and smelled so good. Whatever he asked her, she had to say no. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in the area when I called and I spoke to Abby and she told me you’d gone for a walk. I thought you’d end up here, but I wasn’t sure.”
Damn. Even her walks were routine. “Benjamin,” she said slowly. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m doing what I should have done years ago.” He got down on one knee. “Nikki—”
She tugged on his sleeve. “Get up. Don’t do this,” she said as some passersby stared.
“Marry me.”
Nikki knelt in front of him. “I don’t want to get married. I just got a great assignment and that’s where my focus is right now. My career.”
“We don’t have to get married right away.”
“Benjamin.”
He seized her shoulders. “I don’t want to lose what we have. It wasn’t until this moment that I realized how much you mean to me.” His brown eyes melted into hers. “Please say yes.”
Saying yes to him had always been so easy. It had also been fun. She’d never regretted a moment. He was a good man. Could she get a better one? Could she find someone else who allowed her to have her own life? Who didn’t make demands on her time? Was it right to break up something just because she was bored? Maybe she was being too hasty. Just say yes. “Yes,” she said, but the moment she did, her answer felt wrong. She didn’t have the courage to take it back.
He kissed her. “I love you. We’ll make each other happy.” He grabbed her hand and slipped on a ring.
“Benjamin, wait,” she said, amazed by the large stone. “I may have—”
“I know it’s a big decision, but we’ll make it work.”
“How much did this cost you?”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re worth it, and I’ll spend the rest of my life telling you so.”
“This is all happening so fast.” She started to take the ring off. “I can’t say yes to this. Let me think some more.”
Benjamin covered her hand. “No pressure. Just think of it as a gift and nothing else. I want you to wear it so that wherever you go, you’ll think of me.”
Nikki grinned. “Is that all?”
“No.” His tone grew serious. “I want other men to know who your heart belongs to.”
Her heart. Did her heart really belong to him? Had it ever belonged to anyone? It didn’t matter. At least it was a change in their relationship, taking it to a deeper level, and she had to appreciate that. She wanted to tell him so, but her thoughts drifted to new island adventures, which she knew was her answer to everything.
Monica hung up the phone and stared at her husband, who was giving their son, Markos, named after the doctor who’d helped save Lucian’s life, a piggyback ride, while their daughter, Starla, busied herself with her coloring book.
“Well, that was fast,” J.D. said, surprised.
“She said she would do it.”
“Did you tell her about—”
Monica shook her head and clasped her hands. “She wouldn’t let me explain anything. She agreed before I even asked the question.”
“So she doesn’t know about—”
Monica shook her head again. “J.D., she doesn’t care, and when Nikki wants something, nothing else matters. She’s ready to do this.”
“She’s going to be in for a big surprise.”
“Nikki can handle Lucian. I hope he can handle her.”
J.D. grinned. “Lucian can handle anything.”
“Did we just mix dynamite with gunpowder?”
J.D.’s grin grew. “All we can do is sit back and watch the fireworks.”
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.
Chapter 4
“Get rid of her.”
Basilio shut the door and watched his brother take a shirt from his closet. “Lucian, she just got here.”
“Whose fault is that?”
“I was going to tell you about her.”
Lucian buttoned up his shirt. “When?”
Basilio rubbed his chin. “When the time seemed right.”
Lucian checked his reflection in the mirror. “Seems right now.”
“She’s really talented and—”
“I’m sure she’s brilliant.” He scowled at his reflection and unbuttoned his shirt. “I still don’t want her here. Get rid of her.” He tossed the shirt on the bed and grabbed another from the closet.
Basilio looked at his brother, helpless. “I can’t just tell her to go.”
“Fine. Pay her for her time.”
Basilio sighed at his brother’s tactlessness, then watched as Lucian straightened a sleeve. They had the same parents but were different in appearance due to the nearly ten-year age gap and their different skin tones from the mix of their European mother and African father. He’d gotten his mother’s hair, and Lucian her eyes. He had their father’s chin, while Lucian had his height. Basilio had only known his brother for less than a year before the fire. He’d sought him out after their mother’s death. He had just finished college and wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life yet, but one thing he did know was that he wanted to rebuild his relationship with his brother and start fresh.
It hadn’t been easy, but he was beginning to understand him. He had watched him endure painful treatments and relearn simple tasks. Seeing Lucian’s swift movements as he changed clothes filled him with pride and he knew each year his brother would get stronger, but something was different about him now. He wasn’t himself; he seemed agitated and unsure. That wasn’t like Lucian. He was always cool and certain.
Basilio started to smile. “She got to you.”
Lucian adjusted his collar. “What?”
“What came over you out there? I’ve never seen you act that way.”
“I don’t know. I didn’t expect…” He threw out his hand, annoyed. “Why was she dressed like an ordinary washerwoman?”
“Market woman.”
“They look alike to me.”
“She’s a foreigner. She probably thought it was pretty or something.”
“How like a woman to be deceitful,” Lucian said, tossing another shirt aside.
“She didn’t mean to deceive anyone. I know I should have told you about her sooner, but this is a good thing. I think she can help you.”
“Help me?” Lucian’s voice cracked in surprise. “I don’t need help.” He checked his reflection again.
“You’ve done the buttons wrong.”
Lucian scowled. “I know that.”
Basilio smiled, trying not to laugh. “She’s really gotten you rattled.”
“I’m not rattled.”
Basilio glanced at the bed. “Then how come you’ve gone through four shirts? You don’t usually care what you look like.”
Lucian tucked in his shirt, then smoothed down his hair. “I just want to make a good impression. My first one was—”
“A shock?”
“Unfortunate,” Lucian corrected.
“I don’t think you can undo a first impression.”
“I can try.”
“I haven’t seen you respond to a woman like that since—” He stopped, not wanting to bring up the past and Alana. “Not that I blame you. She’s an attractive woman. I could imagine getting my leg over that.”
“She’s engaged. I saw the ring.”
“Before or after you kissed her?”
Color swept into Lucian’s cheeks. “I’ll have to apologize about that. Perhaps I should send flowers to her room and add a diamond necklace.”
“She’ll see that as an insult.”
“I thought women liked diamonds.”
“That’s not the point. You don’t need to worry about the ring. It doesn’t mean much.”
“How do you know?”
“I know women, and the way you kissed her, I’m surprised she didn’t slap you.”
“It’s only because she knew who I was. She was being polite.”
“No, she wasn’t being polite. She liked it.”
Lucian’s face lit up. “Really?” He held up his hand before his brother could respond. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I don’t want her here. I’ve had enough trouble with designers, and things become more complicated when it comes to friends. Get rid of her.”
“She likes you.”
“Stop saying that.”
“It’s true.”
“I’m not interested. She belongs to another man and I’ve learned my lesson. Most women can’t be trusted. Especially ones who wear one man’s ring and allow another to kiss them.”
“Like you said, maybe she was just being polite.”
Lucian frowned but didn’t reply.
“Okay, aside from your first meeting, don’t ignore this opportunity. You need to move on. Those empty rooms are a symbol of what happened. You need to think about the future.”
“Why?”
“At least think about Callia.”
“When I’m gone, she can design those rooms any way she wants.”
“At least let Nikki try one room. It shouldn’t take more than two weeks and then she’ll be gone. Just two weeks and she’ll be gone for good. No problem. We’ll all get what we want.”
“You think one room will take only two weeks?”
“I told you she’s good. It may be even less.” Basilio held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”
Lucian sighed. “Fine. One room, then she goes.”
Someone knocked.
“Come in,” Lucian said.
Dante Andreas, Lucian’s butler, entered. He sent Basilio a careless look, then focused on Lucian. Basilio didn’t like him. He knew he was more than just a butler, but still wasn’t sure of all his duties. He was only a few years older than Basilio, but seemed decades so. His nationality was Italian, but his appearance—tightly curled hair and dark skin—hinted at a heritage that spread far beyond those shores. At times Basilio envied the close bond he and Lucian had.
“I have Ms. Rozan waiting in the main room.”
“Fine.” Lucian looked at his brother. “Tell her I’ll meet her there.”
Basilio nodded. “Okay.”
“And stop grinning. You haven’t won yet.”
“But I’m getting close,” Basilio said, then strolled out of the room.
Dante closed the door once Basilio was gone. “She’s an unexpected complication.”
Lucian pounded his cane in exasperation. “Don’t I know it.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t aware of what your brother was up to.”
“That’s not your job. You’re too busy with more important things.”
“My job is to make sure this place is safe. He’s causing trouble. I don’t trust him. He just showed up out of nowhere and—”
“Not out of nowhere,” Lucian carefully corrected. “And he isn’t a stranger. He’s family.”
“Yes,” Dante sighed. “But everything has gone bad since his arrival.”
“Don’t exaggerate. None of it is his fault, just a coincidence.”
“I don’t like coincidences.”
“Force yourself to like this one,” Lucian said in an unrelenting tone.
Dante heard it and changed the subject. “You have two messages from France.”
“They can wait.”
“And Wanda called.”
Lucian swore. “Keep her away from here.”
Dante noticed the clothes on the bed and began to put them away. “I have. But I can’t keep her away forever.”
“Sure you can.”
Dante smoothed out a shirt, then hung it up. “She’ll just go to the press.”
“Let her,” Lucian said. He sat on his bed and put on his shoes. “Who’ll listen?”
“If she drops your name, people will. You don’t need that kind of publicity.”
Lucian sighed. “You’re right. I don’t need another complication. What does she want?”
Dante closed the closet with a soft click. “You know what she wants.”
“Fine. Schedule a time.”
“When?”
“The sooner the better. Next month. I just want to get it over with.”
“We’ll have to tell Callia.”
“Don’t worry. I will. Thanks.”
Dante nodded, then left the room. He walked outside and lit a cigarette. He had been Lucian’s right hand for nearly seven years and had helped patrol the island for even longer than that. He knew about every coming and going. His reputation was stellar, except for one grievous stain—the fire at the Kontos mansion. He’d failed and nearly gotten his friend killed, as well as little Callia. He wouldn’t rest until he uncovered the truth. He suspected it wouldn’t be pretty. But he was used to ugly things. He’d grown up on the streets of Rome and London, before an aunt shipped him off to Greece, where he was put into an apprenticeship program with a bottling company. While it didn’t pay very well, it provided Dante with the training, discipline and work ethic he would need later in life.
Dante took a long drag of his cigarette. He didn’t like Basilio. He didn’t trust a man who smiled so easily all the time. He had something to hide. How could he not have some envy for a brother whose success overshadowed his own? No, he didn’t trust Basilio and would watch him.
Chapter 5
He still didn’t know what had come over him. Lucian walked to the room where Nikki was waiting, searching his mind for an explanation. He hadn’t been himself. All he knew was that after Nikki saved the kitten’s life, he wanted to kiss her. He’d felt a mixture of lust, amazement and awe. She’d saved the kitten’s life and made Callia happy. He’d wanted to feel that life force she’d given the kitten infuse him and make him feel whole and human again. Just one wild taste of those lips.
And she’d made him feel more than human. She’d made him feel like a god, and in a moment he knew he’d persuade her to be his lover. Whoever had laid claim to her be damned; they would have to fight him for her. He would make her his, using all the power and influence he had at his disposal.
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Dara Girard
Nikki Dupree feels like the luckiest designer in the world. She's just been commissioned to reinvent the magnificent island home of wealthy recluse Lucian Kontos.From the moment the private plane he sends for Nikki touches down, she's enchanted by the breathtaking sunsets over the shimmering blue waters of the Mediterranean. But all bets are off when Nikki meets her insufferably arrogant alpha employer….After his world was scarred by fire, Lucian thought his life was over. But Nikki could be his second chance. With her sensual beauty and passion for life, she's slowly healing his heart. In her arms, the smoldering secrets of the past are consumed by the desire burning between them. Can Nikki see beyond the past of a wounded man who wants to spend the rest of his days loving her?
Paradise just got a lot hotter
Nikki Dupree feels like the luckiest designer in the world.
She’s just been commissioned to reinvent the magnificent island home of wealthy recluse Lucian Kontos. From the moment the private plane he sends for Nikki touches down, she’s enchanted by the breathtaking sunsets over the shimmering blue waters of the Mediterranean. But all bets are off when Nikki meets her insufferably arrogant alpha employer….
After his world was scarred by fire, Lucian thought his life was over. But Nikki could be his second chance. With her sensual beauty and passion for life, she’s slowly healing his heart. In her arms, the smoldering secrets of the past are consumed by the desire burning between them. Can Nikki see beyond the past of a wounded man who wants to spend the rest of his days loving her?
“You’ve bewitched me.
“You sit there quietly watching me with those eyes of yours unafraid, but also unsure. I can see a cascade of emotions crossing your face, but I can’t read them. You intrigue me even when I don’t want you to. I can’t afford to. But it feels good because you make me forget—” He gripped his hand into a fist. “You make me forget things I have no right to.” He brushed the flower against the hollow of her neck, his gaze trailing behind it like a slow, sensual caress. “Perhaps I’m wrong. You’re not a goddess, you’re a sorceress.”
“No,” Nikki said, breathless and tense lest she do or say anything to break the invisible bond between them. “I have no magic in me.”
“That I find hard to believe.” Lucian lifted Nikki to her feet and his mouth covered hers. The touch and taste of his lips were even better than she’d remembered. Her entire body came alive at his touch. The air felt more fragrant, the breeze cooler and his body solid and as hot as volcanic fire. She surrendered to the demanding mastery of his hands and the practiced persuasion of his mouth. Every fiber of her body went weak at his touch.
He pulled away, his eyes smoldering with fire, but his voice cool. “I didn’t expect this.”
“Neither did I.”
“I shouldn’t let this happen.”
“Then blame me,” Nikki said, bold and impulsive. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
DARA GIRARD
fell in love with storytelling at an early age. Her romance writing career happened by chance when she discovered the power of a happy ending. She is an award-winning author whose novels are known for their sense of humor, interesting plot twists and witty dialogue.
When she’s not writing she enjoys spring mornings and autumn afternoons, French pastries, dancing to the latest hits and long drives.
Dara loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her at contactdara@daragirard.com or P.O. Box 10345, Silver Spring, MD 20914.
Secret Paradise
Dara Girard
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader,
Have you ever wanted to get away from it all? The obligations, the job that no longer excites you, the on-again, off-again boyfriend you should have broken up with months ago? That’s exactly how Nikki Dupree feels when she impulsively takes an assignment to redesign the house of the reclusive Lucian Kontos.
Initially, I thought Nikki would have fun with JD’s brother from All I Want Is You. But they were having too much fun and nothing was happening so I had to go with someone who could prove a challenge to her. Enter JD’s friend Lucian.
Immediately, an electricity ignites between them that seems to expand to everything and everyone around them. An attraction so powerful that even the gods and goddesses of myth seem to take a hand in it.…
So, my dear reader, here is another tale I hope you enjoy.
Dara Girard
Contents
Prologue (#uab9cd516-c7d8-548d-b28f-763418be746d)
Chapter 1 (#ud2461b16-55fb-54c2-a1bd-d5564d8f710d)
Chapter 2 (#uf43d2846-c585-5d33-bbc8-3364cbb9a634)
Chapter 3 (#ub3785cb9-f441-55e9-aab8-469d5ccac917)
Chapter 4 (#uc1c6270b-e0b9-5951-9611-c6de3eb9c4b7)
Chapter 5 (#u6a5039e8-97a9-599b-a166-4933f21124dc)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
He would die tonight in this hell of his own creation. Flames licked at the walls outside his bedroom, shattering the windows down the hall, and turning everything they touched into blackened ash. Everything burned around him and he would soon burn with it. The fire had yet to reach the room where he’d imprisoned himself, but he knew the smoke would take him first. He imagined gossamer black arms seeping under the door, slowly gathering together to strangle him. Lucian Kontos let the smoke invade his lungs, just as he’d let Alana invade his life and his heart.
Even now he could see her face, remember the scent of her lotion, the seductive fragrance of her perfume, the touch of her hand, the beautiful slope of her neck when she threw her head back and laughed. She loved to laugh. It was what had attracted him to her at first. Now he wondered if she’d been laughing at him. It seemed likely now, as he looked back. He’d been a fool. Not only because he’d carelessly let her into every part of his life, but because he’d given her his heart as well. That had made him as weak and blind as a newborn puppy. God, how he’d loved her, and now he’d die because of it. But he welcomed this end. His shame demanded this punishment. It suited his sense of honor and justice. His foolish heart had led him to a fiery grave.
Lucian inhaled the smoke, waiting for the toxins to slowly suffocate him and turn his lungs as black as charcoal, and prepared for death.
“Uncle Lucian!”
The urgent voice of a young girl ripped through the loud roar of the flames. A distant cry that he hadn’t expected to hear.
“Uncle Lucian!”
No, not a cry. A scream. She was screaming for him. Callia. But she wasn’t supposed to be here. She was to be safely away. Miles away. He’d made sure his brother took her with him. Maybe he was hallucinating. Yes, that was it. He was having an auditory hallucination because she was the one thing he truly regretted having to leave behind. But he’d made sure she would be taken care of.
“Uncle Lucian!”
Lucian stiffened in the chair where he’d been awaiting his end and swore. He wasn’t hallucinating. She was here in this inferno he’d once called his home, screaming his name. Instantly the sweet call of death and its promises to end all his suffering no longer mattered. He had to save Callia. He had to reach her. He grabbed a pillowcase and covered his mouth, then went to the door, ignoring the pain in his leg, and opened it. He dropped to his knees so that he could crawl under the layer of black smoke that choked the air. He knew the smoke would overtake them both, so there wasn’t much time to reach her.
“Uncle Lucian!”
He wanted to call out and let her know that he was coming to get her, that he’d do anything to make sure she was safe, but he knew that he couldn’t. He had to reserve what little oxygen he had left.
Lucian reached the stairs and saw the bright glow of the red, orange and yellow flames below and heard her voice again, but he still couldn’t see where she was. He was about to turn away when he saw something wiggle on the floor. That was when he noticed her fingers. He rushed forward and saw Callia hanging from the edge of one of the steps where a staircase used to stand.
“Callia!”
She looked up, her eyes wide with terror. It mirrored his own—as if they’d found each other locked together in purgatory—but he quickly replaced his fear with a steely determination. She would not die. He wouldn’t think of the long drop that awaited her if she fell or the flames that shot up to seize her.
“I can’t hold on,” she said.
“You must hold on to me.” He grabbed the railing, praying for it to hold, and wrapped an arm around her neck. He straightened, then grabbed her around the waist as the stair fell away. There was no way out except up. He lifted her in his arms and dashed toward a room off to the side and closed the door, knowing they didn’t have much time before the fire reached them.
He pounded his fist against the door, then turned to her. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “I sensed something was wrong and I told Basilio.”
“And he brought you back here?” Lucian said, angered that his younger brother would ignore his orders. He’d come back into his life only eight months ago, after nearly a decade of separation. “Where is he?”
“He’s not here.”
“Then who brought you here?”
“I don’t know.”
“You have to know,” Lucian said, pressing her, eager for details. The information she knew was vital to him. “You didn’t get here by magic.”
“I really don’t know how I got here. I woke up in my room and smelled the smoke. At first I thought I was dreaming.”
Lucian pounded the door again. It was even worse than he’d imagined. Someone must have drugged her and placed her in the house, knowing what was going to happen. But why? “When you woke up, you should have tried to escape.”
“But I had to find you first to warn you. I knew you were in danger.”
He gritted his teeth. “That’s why you should have stayed away.”
Callia blinked and he saw the tears. He rarely lost his temper with her, but he couldn’t comfort her now. She was only eleven but already had her mother’s beauty and her father’s defiant nature. Now wasn’t the time to argue. Silence was better. He needed to think. He walked toward a set of windows and winced as a shooting pain ripped through his side, making him feel as if he’d aged a hundred years.
Callia took a step toward him. “You’re hurt.”
Lucian held his hand out, keeping her away. “I’m fine,” he lied. Yes, he hurt. He hurt all over, as if every nerve ending had been electrified, but that didn’t matter now. He needed to keep her safe. Lucian opened one of the windows and lifted her onto the windowsill. “I’m going to throw you into the pool.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“There’s no reason to be afraid. It will be okay.”
“I want you to come with me. Let’s jump together.”
“No need. You know how to swim.” He lifted her up.
She grabbed the window frame. “No.”
“Callia, listen to me.”
She fought him even harder. “No!”
“You must jump,” he demanded, struggling with her.
“No!” she screamed. Her resistance was just as frantic as when he’d found her on the stairs, clinging for her life.
He released his hold and stared at her, bewildered. “Why not?”
“If you let me go, you won’t come with me.”
Lucian silently swore, hung his head and released a heavy sigh. She knew him too well. Sometimes he wondered why this strange little girl loved him so much. Especially since he was the cause of her father’s death.
He lifted his head and met her eyes, his voice stern. “Callia, you are going to listen to me.” He cupped her face in his hands. He’d never pleaded in his life, but this time he would for her sake. “My little one. Please listen to me. Your life is all I treasure. Save it for me.”
“No. Either I live with you or I die with you.”
A part of him wanted to laugh at her bold statement, and another part wanted to shake her. This skinny little thing who was all arms and legs wanted to fight him? He could easily overpower her, and if he had more strength, he would have by now. He knew he could crush her body, but not her will. He heard the roar of the flames at the door and saw fear enter her eyes. She didn’t want to die, despite her rash claim, and she didn’t deserve to.
She grabbed the front of his shirt in her tiny fist. “Come on, Uncle Lucian. Let’s go.” She tightened her grip. “Jump with me.”
“We don’t have time for this.”
She buried her face in his neck. “Please, Uncle Lucian. Please don’t leave me alone.”
“You won’t be alone. You’ll have—”
She vigorously shook her head and said in a trembling voice, “No, please. Please!”
“Shh. Don’t cry.” He sighed. “Okay. I’ll jump after you.”
She shook her head again.
“I promise.”
“You promise, really?” She held out her hand.
He took it and held it against his chest, over his heart. “I promise. On my soul.” He kissed her hand, then released it. “Now, let’s go.”
She looked at him.
He turned her face. “Don’t look back at me. Only look ahead. Remember what I taught you?”
“Where I’m going matters more than where I’ve been,” she said, as though repeating a solemn vow.
“Right.”
She hugged him. “I love you, Uncle Lucian.”
“I know,” he said impatiently, disentangling himself from her grasp. They didn’t have time. He had to get her to safety. “Face forward.”
She did, and he threw her out the window and watched her fall into the water. He waited for her to emerge to the surface and felt his tense heart relax when he saw her head pop up and she swam to the edge of the Olympic-size pool. She was safe.
The fire was at the door. Lucian could hear it pressing against the wood, wanting entrance. He turned to the door, knowing that in an instant it could all be over. All the secrets, betrayal and curses could die with him. It was his fate. He turned to the window from which Callia had fallen, and stared at the darkening sky, watching as the sinking sun created the same violent reds and yellows against the horizon as the blaze that consumed his house. He’d promised Callia he would live, even though she’d be better off without him. He’d promised on his soul, but he felt he had no soul to make a promise with. Looking down, he saw her mouth move, but it was too distant to hear. He knew she was calling his name.
He wouldn’t leave her yet; he’d defy fate. He sat on the edge of the window. “I’m coming,” he said, not caring if she heard him or not. He would not leave her afraid. Just as he was pushing away from the windowsill to launch into the air, the fire broke through the door and reached through the room like the long arm of a fiery beast, as if trying to grab him back. Glass exploded above him and the uncontrolled fire continued to fuel itself. Then suddenly there was an explosion caused by a back draft, the result of the fire suddenly receiving oxygen, and it propelled Lucian through the air.
Before he hit the water, he briefly wondered if he’d have a watery grave instead of a fiery one, and then he thought of nothing else.
Chapter 1
Dear God, how was he going to tell her? J. D. Rozan set his phone down and shut off his computer, trying to strategize how best to break the news to his wife.
Monica knew about tragedy. Her first husband had died in a vicious incident, and she’d survived a past that would have sent another type of woman to a mental ward. He’d wanted to protect her from any more pain, but that seemed impossible. The last three years had been perfect. Nothing to mar their idyllic existence at the farmhouse in Georgia. J.D. looked out the window and saw the red flash of a cardinal as it flew past. He thought of their daughter, Starla, who was napping in the upstairs nursery. She was a happy child who giggled at the sound of thunderstorms and loved to jump into puddles. This lazy summer day he’d taken time off because Monica’s sister, Nikki, had come to visit and he planned to take them all to the beach. But that would have to change.
J.D. pushed himself from his chair and left the room he used as a study. He had to tell her. He’d just have to do it fast. He took a deep breath and walked toward his wife’s studio, where she designed jewelry for her clients around the world. J.D. stood in front of the door and raised his hand to knock, then hesitated when he heard Monica’s laughter, followed by her sister’s. J.D. let his hand fall. He could tell her later, at dinner or before they went to bed, but then he didn’t know how much time there was left. She needed to know now. He sighed, then knocked.
“Come in.”
J.D. stepped into the bright, airy studio. He saw his wife and stopped. She was so beautiful that even the sun seemed to seek her out in the room, its tender rays stroking her long, straight black river of hair, caressing her exquisite profile and highlighting her gorgeous eyes. She greeted him with a smile, which always made him want to kiss her. Her younger sister, Nikki, sat in the shadowed corner near the window, wearing jeans and a peasant blouse, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail sporting two silver streaks. She wasn’t as striking as her sister, but she had a unique beauty all her own, sharp hazel eyes and a pug nose. There was no envy between the sisters, just an acceptance similar to how the moon made way for the sun. J.D. was glad she was there.
He took a deep breath and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Monica.” That was all he said. He’d never know if it was the tone or his expression, but something made her drop her tools.
She ran over to him, her eyes wide with fear. “What happened?”
He led her over to a chair. “Sit down.”
She pulled away from him. “Just tell me.”
“It’s Lucian.”
She collapsed into the chair. “He’s dead?”
“Nearly. At this point it’s touch and go. The doctors are doing everything they can for him.”
“What happened?” Nikki asked when her sister remained silent.
“An explosion at his mansion caused a massive fire, and he and Callia were trapped inside and barely escaped. He was badly burned. They had to put him into a coma. His brother Basilio just called me. He wants us to be prepared in case…”
Monica shook her head. “He’s strong.” She returned to her drafting table, as if everything was settled. J.D. shared a look with Nikki. If she wanted to be in denial, who was he to stop her?
Nikki frowned. “Monica, you can’t pretend that he may not make it.”
Monica spun around and glared at her sister. “I’m not pretending anything. I know Lucian Kontos and I know that a man like him will live.”
Nikki rolled her eyes. “Monica—”
“No.”
J.D. shook his head. “Honey—”
Monica looked at him, her lips pursed. “He’ll get through this.” She pointed a pencil at him. “When we went to his island for our honeymoon, I was still having nightmares about my past and couldn’t stop. Do you know what he said? He said that if anything ever happened to you, he’d take care of me. That I was his family, too, and it was real. He sees you as a brother. You can’t give up on him.”
J.D. threw up his hands in frustration. “I’m not giving up on him. I’ve known him for years. I love him as much as you do, but I know about his injuries. He’s been badly burned. This is a man who loves life, and all that it has to offer. He’ll be undergoing several surgeries, but we have to admit that in spite of all the therapy and plastic surgery he may be able to afford, there’s still a limitation to what medicine can do. He may not regain the use of his arm or ever walk again. Even if he lives, he won’t be the same man.”
“He’ll recover,” Monica said defiantly.
J.D. folded his arms and looked grim.
Nikki stiffened. “There’s something else you’re not telling us.”
J.D. nodded. “It’s about the explosion. They think it was arson.”
“Someone tried to kill him?” Monica asked.
“They’re investigating. His brother is looking into all possibilities.”
“I’m sure it was a simple accident,” Nikki said, reading the look of horror on Monica’s face.
Monica shook her head. “That house is enormous. He should have had time to escape.”
“Fires move fast,” Nikki said.
“Mama?” a tiny voice said through the baby monitor.
Nikki stood. “I’ll get her,” she said quickly, then left before anyone could argue.
Monica watched her sister go, then returned her gaze to J.D. “Are you going to see him?”
“When I can. He’s in a secret location, and I’ll wait for word from his brother when it seems safe.”
“Call him back and tell him to tell Lucian about the baby.”
J.D. searched her face, confused. “The baby? What baby?”
She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. “Ours.”
“You’re pregnant?”
She winked.
For a moment J.D. just stared at her, not knowing what to say or even how to feel. At first he felt an almost intoxicating joy; then, as he thought of his friend, guilt and sadness mingled with it.
“He’s in a coma,” J.D. said in a grave tone. “There’s no point.”
“But part of him may hear. The part that wants to live.” Monica caressed the side of his face. “He will live.”
J.D. gathered her close. He closed his eyes, determined to believe her—feeling her warmth and strength and courage. She was right. Lucian was a tough SOB. He would rise like the phoenix.
“Good job!” Nikki said, clapping her hands when Starla threw a stick for the family dog, Baxter, to retrieve. It had barely gone a foot, but Nikki acted as if little Starla had the makings of a javelin thrower. Starla giggled, delighting in her aunt’s praise, and Baxter picked up the stick, his tail wagging. They played in the front yard, where Nikki had taken them after Starla’s nap. She enjoyed being in the outdoors, especially on warm summer days like this. Were she alone, she would be lazing on the porch with a cool glass of iced tea.
“Now it’s my turn,” she said when Baxter dropped the stick at her feet. She picked it up and threw it far enough to give the dog some exercise.
“Good job!” a voice said behind her.
Nikki turned and saw her sister coming out of the house. She held up a hand. “Stop right there.”
Monica paused, puzzled. “What?”
“Do I know you from somewhere? You look vaguely familiar. Has anyone ever told you that you should model?” Nikki chuckled as she took a seat on the porch step.
Monica made a face. “Shut up,” she said in good humor.
“Don’t you sometimes miss those days?” Nikki asked, referring to her sister’s past as a top fashion model.
Monica sat on the porch step above hers. “No. When I’m here, I feel richer than I’ve ever been.”
Nikki could see it. Her sister glowed with good health and happiness. “I’m glad.”
“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier.”
Nikki shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time we argued about a man.”
Monica lowered her head and Nikki fell silent, because they both knew that was true. Nikki had never taken to Monica’s first husband, Delong Price, who’d whisked Monica away and launched her as the international beauty named Venus: a symbol of sex, glamour and elegance. But now those days were over. Nikki looked around her. Her sister and J.D. owned a slice of heaven here. They called it a farmhouse, but over the years it had expanded into a magnificent piece of architecture, while retaining its wholesome feel and charm. Nikki found herself spending any free moment she could find visiting her sister and her family.
She’d never been this close to her sister since they were children. Delong had liked to keep Monica to himself, and if she wasn’t with him, she was working. Now she had her own business and a more relaxed schedule and a man who let her be completely herself. Nikki liked J.D. At first glance she wouldn’t have selected him for Monica. He was handsome, with the cool command of a businessman and the slight ruthlessness that went with it, but she’d never seen that side of him. Only kindness. At times Nikki imagined meeting her own J.D. but always brushed the thought aside. Her sister’s life could never be hers. She did wonder about Lucian though. Anytime J.D. or Monica talked about him, she found herself listening closer. He intrigued her. She knew he’d come to visit a few times, but they always seemed to miss each other. Monica had once mentioned that Lucian had commented on her design skills.
They’d allowed her to infuse the farmhouse with their African American and Native American heritage, and she’d used aging cedar, with ancestral images hand carved into the walls. The front door featured unique symbols of good fortune, but she’d learned what Lucian liked most were the series of retractable skylights she put in the family room. She would have liked to find out what else he’d like, but now it seemed she might never get the chance to meet him.
Baxter returned and dropped the stick in front of them. Monica picked it up and threw it. Starla giggled and Nikki clapped and said in mocking tones, “Good job! Beautiful and strong.”
Monica playfully punched her in the arm. “You’re a nuisance.”
Nikki rested back on her elbows and looked up at the sky. “Did you tell him about the baby?”
“Yes, just a few minutes ago.”
Nikki looked at her, curious. “How did he take it?”
“He’s thrilled.”
“I would have waited until another time.”
Monica shrugged. “I know J.D. He needed something to smile about. He’s really worried about Lucian.”
“I hope your friend makes it.”
Monica pulled a picture out of her pocket and handed it to her. “This is his house.”
Nikki took the photograph and stared at the expansive mansion. “I know. You showed it to me before.” She’d been amazed by the honeymoon photos Monica had shown her of Lucian’s island. Lush, romantic, exclusive. She would have loved the chance to see inside his house. But she’d never been bold enough to invite herself. However, although there were pictures of the island and mansion, there were none of the man. In one photo she’d seen a shadowy figure in the background, but it had been too blurry to make out any features. Monica had told her Lucian didn’t like to have his photo taken and kept to himself.
Nikki handed the photo back to Monica, confused as to why her sister had given it to her. “Most of it has been burned, right?”
“Yes, he’s going to need to rebuild.”
“I’m sure he will.”
“And redesign it.”
Nikki frowned, suspicious. “Where are you going with this?”
“He’s going to need you.”
Nikki laughed. “Me? Why me?”
“Because you’re the best.”
Nikki smiled. “And?”
“And what?”
Nikki narrowed her eyes. “You’re up to something.”
“His place is awe-inspiring.”
“So is the Taj Mahal.”
“Once you get to know him—”
Nikki shook her head. “I’m seeing someone already.”
“I saw the way you looked at his house.”
“Because it’s amazing.”
Monica smiled. “Wait until you meet the man.”
Chapter 2
Four years later
“You bitch!”
Nikki heard the shattering glass just as she entered her office.
“You need to stop looking in the mirror.”
Nikki ducked as a handcrafted vase she’d purchased in Peru went flying past her. She straightened and saw two finely groomed women ready to pulverize each other. Only minutes ago she’d received a frantic call from her assistant, Abby Lagoria, that she had an unexpected guest in her office. The tone of the call had surprised her because usually Abby was unflappable. She was a woman who had the kind of face suited for a cubicle. Non-smiling, dreary and forgettable, but Nikki had hired her because she was efficient. She had a remarkable ability to get things done. No one canceled on her, and bills were always paid. Nothing seemed beyond her capabilities—until now. Evidently here was a situation beyond her. This was a crisis.
The mistress of Senator Allwater had shown up without an appointment. Nikki never saw clients or potential clients without an appointment. It was the best way to train people in how to treat her. She’d discovered early on that you couldn’t be too available to the upper class, or they’d devalue you. Exclusivity was a must. And she was very exclusive. Unfortunately, the usually refined Meredith Weedon had broken protocol, and so had Elissa Gold, Allwater’s second mistress. They’d come to her office, both laying claim to the newly designed apartment he’d paid for.
Meredith, his first mistress, was almost an exact replica of Allwater’s wife: old money and new breasts. His second mistress was a midlife crisis cliché—early twenties, tight clothes and big earrings. She had an expensive beauty that would grow more costly as she aged, because she likely wouldn’t age well. She was reckless with her skin care and smoked and drank as if they were a dietary requirement. But she was young enough to keep the consequences of her behavior at bay, for at least a decade.
Meredith was no less expensive, just better at maintaining herself. Good breeding and care had given her an advantage, but while Meredith was more sophisticated, Elissa was more clever than she looked. Allwater usually kept them separate. The fact that they were both here meant that something had gone terribly wrong.
Meredith flicked back a strand of blond hair, her hand trembling with anger. “I was with him first and have known him a lot longer than you.”
Elissa’s full, pouty mouth spread into a cold smile. “Honey, every man eventually likes to get a younger model.”
“New toys always get replaced.”
Elissa’s smile fell and she picked up a glass statue of two swans in the shape of a heart.
Nikki had had enough. “Put that down,” she said. She saw Elissa’s mouth kick up in a quick malicious grin. “Drop it and I’ll throw a punch that will have you flying through that window.”
Elissa blinked, surprised by Nikki’s violent threat, and slowly set the statue down when she realized from Nikki’s stance that she wasn’t bluffing. “Who are you?”
“The owner of this place,” Abby said, disgusted by the woman’s ignorance.
“Oh, the decorator.”
“The designer,” Nikki corrected.
“She wouldn’t know the difference,” Meredith said with disdain.
Elissa narrowed her eyes. “I know the difference between a cow and a heifer.”
“Sure you do, dear. They were your parents,” Meredith returned.
Nikki spoke up before Elissa lunged at Meredith. “Now, let’s be civil.” She stepped forward and winced at the sound of crunching glass beneath her feet. “I think we can come up with a compromise. There’s enough room to accommodate both of you. I will create two entirely separate apartments—each with its own entrance—and will design your own special space to reflect you intimately, a space that will keep your favorite playboy entertained for life.” She knew she’d hit on the perfect solution when Meredith began asking for a gazillion mirrors and chandeliers, while Elissa requested items for a “naughty” lair to call her own. She recorded their requests and made two separate appointments for further discussion. “Consider it done. I’ll let Angelo know that I’ll be making some changes,” she said, using Allwater’s code name.
After the two women left, Nikki collapsed into her chair.
“I’m so sorry,” Abby said, glancing around the room. “They just showed up and then—”
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
Her phone rang and Abby answered. She put it on hold and turned to Nikki. “It’s Benjamin.”
Nikki groaned. Benjamin Leano was a bad habit she needed to break. She thought of coming up with an excuse not to talk to him, then sighed and held out her hand. Abby gave her the phone, then left the room.
“You’re in town?” she said, trying not to sound bored.
“Yes,” he said, surprised. “How did you know?”
It wasn’t a hard deduction. He called her only when he was in town. He was a photojournalist who traveled the world but managed to remember her whenever he was in New York. Two years ago it had seemed like a great arrangement, but now it was wearing thin. “Just a guess.”
“What’s wrong? You sound distracted.”
She looked around her office at the broken vases, the glass, the crooked picture and the tilted plant. She briefly shut her eyes, feeling the slight pounding of an oncoming headache. “Client issues.”
“Poor baby. Let me take you out.”
“That sounds good, but I’m busy.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This isn’t working.”
“I’ll wait if you need to switch phones.”
“Not the lines, us.”
He paused. “You want something more? Marriage? Fine. I’ll marry you.”
Nikki laughed at his flippant attitude. “No, I don’t want to marry you.”
“Why not?”
“Benjamin, you don’t want to get married.”
“That’s not the point. Why wouldn’t you want to marry me? I’m a great catch.”
“Yes, for someone else.”
“Are you interested in someone else? Are you seeing another man?”
“No, it’s not that.” She was just bored. Everything about her life had become routine. The wealthy clients and their tirades, the social events. There were no happy surprises or new discoveries. “I just need a break.”
“We don’t have to go to—”
“Sorry. I have another call I have to take. I’ll call you later.” She hung up before he could argue.
Abby came into the room, looking composed again. She straightened the tilted plant. “I’ve called housekeeping.”
“Thank you.”
“Is Benjamin stopping by?”
“No, never again.”
“Good.”
Nikki looked at her, shocked. “What do you mean?”
“You deserve better. When are you going to start designing your own home?”
“I’ve already designed my place.”
Abby shook her head. “No, not a place. A home—with a fully furnished kitchen and a big family room.”
“And a picket fence and lawn?” Nikki shook her head and laughed. “You’re talking to the wrong sister. That’s not me.”
“Everyone deserves their own space, where they feel complete.”
“Right.”
She knew that better than most. That was why she’d become a designer. She knew what a room could do, how it could make a person feel. But she didn’t need a home of her own. She really liked her apartment and the friends and parties she hosted there. She was just restless. She only wished she knew what to do. She was young, attractive, with a good job and nothing really to complain about, yet she felt like running away.
Nikki stood. “What I need is a challenge. Something big and a little scary. Something to test my skills. Unpredictable.” She looked around her destroyed office and groaned. She obviously wouldn’t find it here. She needed the outdoors; she thought better there. “I’m going to go for a walk.” She grabbed her bag and sunglasses.
Nikki walked several blocks, but the restless feeling still followed. She crossed over to go into Central Park. Then her phone rang. “Yes?” she said as she saw a driver give another the finger and a young child drop his ice cream on the pavement and burst into tears.
“It’s Monica. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” She stepped around a pile of dog poop someone had neglected to pick up. “What’s up?”
“It’s Lucian.”
She stopped. “Has something happened? He’s been out of the hospital for some time now and I thought he was doing fine.”
“He is,” Monica said quickly to reassure her.
“Good,” Nikki said, starting to walk again. Over the past several years she’d become invested in Lucian’s recovery. She’d been just as thankful as J.D. and Monica that he’d pulled through.
“This isn’t a physical problem. It’s his house. He’s been able to rebuild, but the interior is a problem.”
“I’m there,” Nikki said without hesitation. This was the answer to her problems. She knew it. Already a sense of excitement had replaced her restlessness.
“You haven’t let me finish.”
“You don’t need to finish,” Nikki said, picking up her pace. If she were five years old, she would start to skip. “You need me to help him design his place, and I’m up to the challenge.”
“I’m glad, but there are a few things you should know.”
“I’ll find out when I get there.”
Monica hesitated. “He’s not the easiest man to work with. Especially now. He uses a cane and J.D. says he can be very impatient and domineering.”
Nikki brushed her sister’s concerns aside. “I’ve dealt with that type before. Don’t worry about me. I need a change and this is just the kind of project I was waiting for. Nothing can stop me from seizing this opportunity. Give me the details when I get home. I’ll call you.”
“But—”
“Bye.” Nikki hung up the phone and released a little squeal of delight. This project was just what she needed. She’d finally get a chance to see inside the elusive Lucian Kontos’s island mansion and meet the man. She wasn’t sure which intrigued her more.
“Nikki!”
She spun around at the sound of her name and saw Benjamin running toward her. He was the kind of man who looked good in front of a camera and behind it. He had an easy smile and a great body. He moved with practiced grace, which made you feel comfortable around him. He was also the kind of man who was easy to say yes to, which was why Nikki hadn’t broken up with him months ago.
“I’m so glad I found you,” he said, giving her a quick hug.
Nikki stared at him, stunned, and annoyed that he felt and smelled so good. Whatever he asked her, she had to say no. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in the area when I called and I spoke to Abby and she told me you’d gone for a walk. I thought you’d end up here, but I wasn’t sure.”
Damn. Even her walks were routine. “Benjamin,” she said slowly. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m doing what I should have done years ago.” He got down on one knee. “Nikki—”
She tugged on his sleeve. “Get up. Don’t do this,” she said as some passersby stared.
“Marry me.”
Nikki knelt in front of him. “I don’t want to get married. I just got a great assignment and that’s where my focus is right now. My career.”
“We don’t have to get married right away.”
“Benjamin.”
He seized her shoulders. “I don’t want to lose what we have. It wasn’t until this moment that I realized how much you mean to me.” His brown eyes melted into hers. “Please say yes.”
Saying yes to him had always been so easy. It had also been fun. She’d never regretted a moment. He was a good man. Could she get a better one? Could she find someone else who allowed her to have her own life? Who didn’t make demands on her time? Was it right to break up something just because she was bored? Maybe she was being too hasty. Just say yes. “Yes,” she said, but the moment she did, her answer felt wrong. She didn’t have the courage to take it back.
He kissed her. “I love you. We’ll make each other happy.” He grabbed her hand and slipped on a ring.
“Benjamin, wait,” she said, amazed by the large stone. “I may have—”
“I know it’s a big decision, but we’ll make it work.”
“How much did this cost you?”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re worth it, and I’ll spend the rest of my life telling you so.”
“This is all happening so fast.” She started to take the ring off. “I can’t say yes to this. Let me think some more.”
Benjamin covered her hand. “No pressure. Just think of it as a gift and nothing else. I want you to wear it so that wherever you go, you’ll think of me.”
Nikki grinned. “Is that all?”
“No.” His tone grew serious. “I want other men to know who your heart belongs to.”
Her heart. Did her heart really belong to him? Had it ever belonged to anyone? It didn’t matter. At least it was a change in their relationship, taking it to a deeper level, and she had to appreciate that. She wanted to tell him so, but her thoughts drifted to new island adventures, which she knew was her answer to everything.
Monica hung up the phone and stared at her husband, who was giving their son, Markos, named after the doctor who’d helped save Lucian’s life, a piggyback ride, while their daughter, Starla, busied herself with her coloring book.
“Well, that was fast,” J.D. said, surprised.
“She said she would do it.”
“Did you tell her about—”
Monica shook her head and clasped her hands. “She wouldn’t let me explain anything. She agreed before I even asked the question.”
“So she doesn’t know about—”
Monica shook her head again. “J.D., she doesn’t care, and when Nikki wants something, nothing else matters. She’s ready to do this.”
“She’s going to be in for a big surprise.”
“Nikki can handle Lucian. I hope he can handle her.”
J.D. grinned. “Lucian can handle anything.”
“Did we just mix dynamite with gunpowder?”
J.D.’s grin grew. “All we can do is sit back and watch the fireworks.”
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.
Chapter 4
“Get rid of her.”
Basilio shut the door and watched his brother take a shirt from his closet. “Lucian, she just got here.”
“Whose fault is that?”
“I was going to tell you about her.”
Lucian buttoned up his shirt. “When?”
Basilio rubbed his chin. “When the time seemed right.”
Lucian checked his reflection in the mirror. “Seems right now.”
“She’s really talented and—”
“I’m sure she’s brilliant.” He scowled at his reflection and unbuttoned his shirt. “I still don’t want her here. Get rid of her.” He tossed the shirt on the bed and grabbed another from the closet.
Basilio looked at his brother, helpless. “I can’t just tell her to go.”
“Fine. Pay her for her time.”
Basilio sighed at his brother’s tactlessness, then watched as Lucian straightened a sleeve. They had the same parents but were different in appearance due to the nearly ten-year age gap and their different skin tones from the mix of their European mother and African father. He’d gotten his mother’s hair, and Lucian her eyes. He had their father’s chin, while Lucian had his height. Basilio had only known his brother for less than a year before the fire. He’d sought him out after their mother’s death. He had just finished college and wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life yet, but one thing he did know was that he wanted to rebuild his relationship with his brother and start fresh.
It hadn’t been easy, but he was beginning to understand him. He had watched him endure painful treatments and relearn simple tasks. Seeing Lucian’s swift movements as he changed clothes filled him with pride and he knew each year his brother would get stronger, but something was different about him now. He wasn’t himself; he seemed agitated and unsure. That wasn’t like Lucian. He was always cool and certain.
Basilio started to smile. “She got to you.”
Lucian adjusted his collar. “What?”
“What came over you out there? I’ve never seen you act that way.”
“I don’t know. I didn’t expect…” He threw out his hand, annoyed. “Why was she dressed like an ordinary washerwoman?”
“Market woman.”
“They look alike to me.”
“She’s a foreigner. She probably thought it was pretty or something.”
“How like a woman to be deceitful,” Lucian said, tossing another shirt aside.
“She didn’t mean to deceive anyone. I know I should have told you about her sooner, but this is a good thing. I think she can help you.”
“Help me?” Lucian’s voice cracked in surprise. “I don’t need help.” He checked his reflection again.
“You’ve done the buttons wrong.”
Lucian scowled. “I know that.”
Basilio smiled, trying not to laugh. “She’s really gotten you rattled.”
“I’m not rattled.”
Basilio glanced at the bed. “Then how come you’ve gone through four shirts? You don’t usually care what you look like.”
Lucian tucked in his shirt, then smoothed down his hair. “I just want to make a good impression. My first one was—”
“A shock?”
“Unfortunate,” Lucian corrected.
“I don’t think you can undo a first impression.”
“I can try.”
“I haven’t seen you respond to a woman like that since—” He stopped, not wanting to bring up the past and Alana. “Not that I blame you. She’s an attractive woman. I could imagine getting my leg over that.”
“She’s engaged. I saw the ring.”
“Before or after you kissed her?”
Color swept into Lucian’s cheeks. “I’ll have to apologize about that. Perhaps I should send flowers to her room and add a diamond necklace.”
“She’ll see that as an insult.”
“I thought women liked diamonds.”
“That’s not the point. You don’t need to worry about the ring. It doesn’t mean much.”
“How do you know?”
“I know women, and the way you kissed her, I’m surprised she didn’t slap you.”
“It’s only because she knew who I was. She was being polite.”
“No, she wasn’t being polite. She liked it.”
Lucian’s face lit up. “Really?” He held up his hand before his brother could respond. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care. I don’t want her here. I’ve had enough trouble with designers, and things become more complicated when it comes to friends. Get rid of her.”
“She likes you.”
“Stop saying that.”
“It’s true.”
“I’m not interested. She belongs to another man and I’ve learned my lesson. Most women can’t be trusted. Especially ones who wear one man’s ring and allow another to kiss them.”
“Like you said, maybe she was just being polite.”
Lucian frowned but didn’t reply.
“Okay, aside from your first meeting, don’t ignore this opportunity. You need to move on. Those empty rooms are a symbol of what happened. You need to think about the future.”
“Why?”
“At least think about Callia.”
“When I’m gone, she can design those rooms any way she wants.”
“At least let Nikki try one room. It shouldn’t take more than two weeks and then she’ll be gone. Just two weeks and she’ll be gone for good. No problem. We’ll all get what we want.”
“You think one room will take only two weeks?”
“I told you she’s good. It may be even less.” Basilio held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”
Lucian sighed. “Fine. One room, then she goes.”
Someone knocked.
“Come in,” Lucian said.
Dante Andreas, Lucian’s butler, entered. He sent Basilio a careless look, then focused on Lucian. Basilio didn’t like him. He knew he was more than just a butler, but still wasn’t sure of all his duties. He was only a few years older than Basilio, but seemed decades so. His nationality was Italian, but his appearance—tightly curled hair and dark skin—hinted at a heritage that spread far beyond those shores. At times Basilio envied the close bond he and Lucian had.
“I have Ms. Rozan waiting in the main room.”
“Fine.” Lucian looked at his brother. “Tell her I’ll meet her there.”
Basilio nodded. “Okay.”
“And stop grinning. You haven’t won yet.”
“But I’m getting close,” Basilio said, then strolled out of the room.
Dante closed the door once Basilio was gone. “She’s an unexpected complication.”
Lucian pounded his cane in exasperation. “Don’t I know it.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t aware of what your brother was up to.”
“That’s not your job. You’re too busy with more important things.”
“My job is to make sure this place is safe. He’s causing trouble. I don’t trust him. He just showed up out of nowhere and—”
“Not out of nowhere,” Lucian carefully corrected. “And he isn’t a stranger. He’s family.”
“Yes,” Dante sighed. “But everything has gone bad since his arrival.”
“Don’t exaggerate. None of it is his fault, just a coincidence.”
“I don’t like coincidences.”
“Force yourself to like this one,” Lucian said in an unrelenting tone.
Dante heard it and changed the subject. “You have two messages from France.”
“They can wait.”
“And Wanda called.”
Lucian swore. “Keep her away from here.”
Dante noticed the clothes on the bed and began to put them away. “I have. But I can’t keep her away forever.”
“Sure you can.”
Dante smoothed out a shirt, then hung it up. “She’ll just go to the press.”
“Let her,” Lucian said. He sat on his bed and put on his shoes. “Who’ll listen?”
“If she drops your name, people will. You don’t need that kind of publicity.”
Lucian sighed. “You’re right. I don’t need another complication. What does she want?”
Dante closed the closet with a soft click. “You know what she wants.”
“Fine. Schedule a time.”
“When?”
“The sooner the better. Next month. I just want to get it over with.”
“We’ll have to tell Callia.”
“Don’t worry. I will. Thanks.”
Dante nodded, then left the room. He walked outside and lit a cigarette. He had been Lucian’s right hand for nearly seven years and had helped patrol the island for even longer than that. He knew about every coming and going. His reputation was stellar, except for one grievous stain—the fire at the Kontos mansion. He’d failed and nearly gotten his friend killed, as well as little Callia. He wouldn’t rest until he uncovered the truth. He suspected it wouldn’t be pretty. But he was used to ugly things. He’d grown up on the streets of Rome and London, before an aunt shipped him off to Greece, where he was put into an apprenticeship program with a bottling company. While it didn’t pay very well, it provided Dante with the training, discipline and work ethic he would need later in life.
Dante took a long drag of his cigarette. He didn’t like Basilio. He didn’t trust a man who smiled so easily all the time. He had something to hide. How could he not have some envy for a brother whose success overshadowed his own? No, he didn’t trust Basilio and would watch him.
Chapter 5
He still didn’t know what had come over him. Lucian walked to the room where Nikki was waiting, searching his mind for an explanation. He hadn’t been himself. All he knew was that after Nikki saved the kitten’s life, he wanted to kiss her. He’d felt a mixture of lust, amazement and awe. She’d saved the kitten’s life and made Callia happy. He’d wanted to feel that life force she’d given the kitten infuse him and make him feel whole and human again. Just one wild taste of those lips.
And she’d made him feel more than human. She’d made him feel like a god, and in a moment he knew he’d persuade her to be his lover. Whoever had laid claim to her be damned; they would have to fight him for her. He would make her his, using all the power and influence he had at his disposal.
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Dara Girard
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Nikki Dupree feels like the luckiest designer in the world. She′s just been commissioned to reinvent the magnificent island home of wealthy recluse Lucian Kontos.From the moment the private plane he sends for Nikki touches down, she′s enchanted by the breathtaking sunsets over the shimmering blue waters of the Mediterranean. But all bets are off when Nikki meets her insufferably arrogant alpha employer….After his world was scarred by fire, Lucian thought his life was over. But Nikki could be his second chance. With her sensual beauty and passion for life, she′s slowly healing his heart. In her arms, the smoldering secrets of the past are consumed by the desire burning between them. Can Nikki see beyond the past of a wounded man who wants to spend the rest of his days loving her?