Secret Paradise

“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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