* * *
Stefano woke with purpose. Today he would deal with what he should have dealt with months ago. Laying this admittedly delectable ghost was well overdue.
He’d discovered the opening times of the ship’s hospital and by the time Theros and Marla had left for their day-trip the clinic was almost due to close, which suited him perfectly.
He descended the stairs almost at a jog—foolish when his hip would kill him later, and he reminded himself it was not fitting to appear too eager.
The nurse greeted him with a smile. She was the same one he’d seen yesterday, and he inclined his head at the obvious approval he read in her face. She was a handsome woman, of the type he’d used to dally with a lifetime ago, but, like a stamp on the front page of his passport, no matter where he was, Kiki had dampened any desire on his part to consort with other women.
‘I wish to see Dr Fender. I am Stefano Mykonides.’
‘Of course, Your Highness, I know who you are.’ She smiled at him coyly, fiddled excitedly with her collar, and blushed.
Stefano smiled back blandly, curbed his impatience as the woman went on.
‘But Dr Fender isn’t on duty until later this morning.’
A door across the waiting room opened and the senior doctor ushered his patient out.
As the young boy and his mother walked past them the nurse said, ‘Perhaps Dr Hobson?’
‘No.’ Stefano inclined his head at the doctor, but before he could leave Hobson crossed the room and held out his hand. They shook hands briefly.
‘Ah, Your Highness. Good morning.’ He turned to the nurse. ‘Can you run those blood samples up to the courier, please?’
He turned back to Stefano. ‘I hope all is well with your sister-in-law this morning?’
Stefano tried not to show his irritation, but he was trapped. And where was his quarry if not here? ‘Yes. Thank you.’ He was over discussing Theros’s disasters.
Hobson glanced at his watch. ‘How can we help you?’
Stefano picked up nuances and wondered why this man felt Kiki needed protection. From him. ‘I had hoped to thank Dr Fender personally, for her timely assistance yesterday. I did not have the opportunity at the time, of course.’
‘Of course.’
Hobson smiled non-committally and Stefano felt like gritting his teeth.
‘I could convey your appreciation?’
Very pointed, Stefano thought, but he held his temper. ‘Thank you, but I wish to do so myself. I will return at another time.’
Hobson didn’t shift. ‘I’ll let her know.’
Stefano could see that the good doctor was in protection mode. He wondered just what kind of personal relationship he had with Kiki and had to admit he disliked the idea very strongly. His hand tightened on the room card in his pocket. The card bent. Disliked very strongly. He examined the doctor more closely. He was a well-muscled man, almost as tall as himself, and no doubt attractive to women.
He tested the water. ‘Or I could surprise her.’
Hobson’s smile appeared frozen on his face. ‘I think she has had enough surprises.’
Stefano had to give the man respect. Loyalty was a good thing, and despite his own misgivings he could not grudge Kiki her friend’s championship. Though his cousin, who owed Stefano many favours, did own this shipping line.
His fingers loosened. Relax. Let it go. He, too, cared that Kiki was not upset. ‘It is not my intention to distress her.’
Hobson met his gaze head-on. ‘Good.’
Enough. His day had soured and the pain in his hip from his reckless descent down the stairs was annoying him. ‘And good day to you, Dr Hobson.’
Stefano pressed the button for the lift with remarkable restraint, not stupid enough to brave an ascent of twelve floors despite his sudden frustrated desire for explosive energy. The lift doors opened and, as if conjured, Kiki stood waiting to alight.
‘Just the person.’ Wonderful how good humour could be instantly restored. ‘One moment, please, Dr Fender.’ He could not believe his good luck—finally—and gestured for her to wait. With a relief he was careful not to show he stepped in beside her as she hesitated.
Kiki couldn’t believe her bad luck. So close to being safe. ‘What if I was on my way to work?’
He shrugged those shoulders that still made her weak at the knees. Damn him. It was so hard to not to stare and just remember.
‘I have been told you are not working for a few hours.’
His voice always had made her mouth dry, and now was no exception. What was the scientific reason for that? She searched a little desperately for distraction as she watched him press the lift button for the sixteenth floor.
Of course he had looked for her in the hospital. If only she hadn’t run down for a quick chat with Will.
The doors began to close and for a moment she did consider diving out before the doors shut, like some female secret agent with a barrel roll in her repertoire—but she’d just look awkward, and probably get sandwiched by the doors.
Or, a hundred times worse, he’d put out his hand and touch her, and she wanted to avoid that at all costs. That was what had happened the first time. He’d laid his hand on her arm to help her from the car and she’d woken up in bed with him. And stayed there for a week.
That left the smart mouth as her only defence. ‘So where are we going?’ As if she didn’t know.
He didn’t reply, and she remembered that. The frustrating habits of a man used to answering questions he felt inclined to and ignoring the rest. A prince with his own agenda unless it was for his family. Lucky him.
She stared straight ahead at the doors of the lift as if they’d magically open and she could float out to safety somewhere in the stairwell. She could feel his eyes on her.
‘Why are you on this ship anyway, Your Highness?’
She heard him sigh. ‘Do you call me that to annoy me?’
Now she glanced at him. Sugared her voice. ‘Is it working?’
He looked at her from under his own raised brows, and then in the ultimate retaliation he smiled. Blinded, she felt it rip open the wound she’d healed so diligently over the last months aboard ship. Blast, blast and double blast. She needed to get away.
She’d fallen in lust with him the first time she’d seen him. Only lust. Love wouldn’t have ended as it had.
Stefano had smiled at her then, as if they shared a secret, when she’d been late for her last surgical day in the operating theatres because of car trouble. He’d been a guest consultant of her boss, and should have chastised her like all the other consultants would have done, but instead he’d shown her surgical techniques she’d never thought to witness.
Later, he’d bought her coffee, plied her with cake to replace her missed breakfast, and invited her to ride home with him at the end of the day. When his hand had touched hers she’d been stunned like a landed fish, all big glassy eyes and floppy with desire.
And she knew where that had led.
The flicker of the number lights speeding upwards brought her back to the present and her sense of impending danger grew exponentially. This wasn’t sensible. Or safe. Though she wasn’t sure who she was more afraid of. Him or herself.
‘I don’t want to go anywhere with you.’
She thought for a moment she’d actually hurt him. There was just a flicker behind his eyes... But that was a joke. Instead he sighed as if she were a troublesome child, or probably just a troublesome subject.
‘I will not keep you long.’
‘Well, I know that.’
This time he did flinch. She saw it. Good, he felt guilty—even though he didn’t know how guilty he should feel. But she was tired of scoring points or second-guessing his intentions. She just wanted to forget she’d seen him again and re-gr
ow the scar tissue so she could complete her healing.
When the lift stopped she planted her feet more solidly on the spot. He waited for her to pass him and when she didn’t lifted his hand to direct her. She stepped out of his way and back against the wall so fast his hand fell.
‘No.’ She licked dry lips. ‘Goodbye, Prince Stefano. Have a good life.’
There. She’d said it. What she hadn’t had a chance to say nine months ago. Now it was done. Finished.
Except he didn’t get out, and the silence lengthened.
Without direction from them the lift doors shut and the chamber began its descent to another level.
His voice was mild. Slightly amused. ‘So, are we to ride up and down in the lift all day until you wish to get out?’
She stepped further to the left of him. ‘Leave me alone, Stefano.’
He didn’t lift his hand again, but his voice reached out to her. She tried to imagine a soft ball of cotton wool jamming her ears to mute the sound—it didn’t work.
‘Is a few minutes of your time so much to ask? A chance to apologise, explain a little, and then we may part as friends—or less, if that is what you wish.’
She didn’t know how much more of this power struggle she could take before those damn tears she could feel prickling behind her eyes made their escape.
She could get out on another floor, stride away, and then spend the day dreading what could be over in a few minutes if she just faced it. Over and done with. Great theory, but what if it wasn’t? She still wasn’t sure who she trusted least.
The silence lengthened. The lift stopped and began to go down further. ‘For goodness’ sake. Must you get your own way in everything?’ She stepped forward and stabbed the light for the sixteenth floor. The little button rattled with the force. ‘Get it over with.’ The lift whooshed upwards again.
Stefano winced. This was not how he had expected it would turn out. A polite thank-you, a question as to whether she was well, an apology because he had had to leave so abruptly the last time they’d been together, and—most importantly—he would see that he was not as attracted to the flesh and blood woman as his imagination had assured him. Then he could move on to his duty.
In fact, to his discomfort, the desire for Kiki back in his arms, and most assuredly in his bed, was growing stronger by the second.
Perhaps he should have stepped out of the lift on his own after all. But how was that going to help his predicament?
The lift doors opened again and he extended his arm against the doors to hold them. ‘After you.’
‘Are you? Not again, I hope,’ she muttered, and he had to bite back the smile.
This was the woman who had captured his attention over that long-ago week. With her tiny rebellions that always startled him out of his self-assurance, the rapier wit that amused him with its irreverence, the unpredictability of Kiki with the crazy name and so alluring body.
He was in trouble. But, then again, so was she.
CHAPTER THREE
KIKI PRECEDED HIM into the suite and glanced around. Very grand. Split level. She hadn’t noticed much yesterday—too many other things had been going on. Like a woman critical with shock. Like Stefano reappearing beside her. Like a hundred memories she didn’t want to remember.
She kept her back to him. ‘Must be cosy, sharing with a married couple.’
‘Their suite is very similar. Next door.’ Kiki could hear the smile in his voice. The lock clicked. ‘This is mine.’
Why did she feel there was emphasis on ‘mine’? She squared her shoulders and faced him. Why did he have to look so damned amazing. ‘So let’s have our little conversation and then I’d like to leave.’
He ignored that. The ignoring thing again. He prowled over to the drinks cabinet. Turned to face her and asked mildly, as if they did this every day, ‘Would you like something to drink?’
No, but she wouldn’t mind something in her hand she could fiddle with—or throw in defence.
Kiki circled the plush sofa and sat on an upright armchair. ‘Thank you. Soda water.’
He smiled. ‘You were always so confident.’
She ground her teeth. ‘Until I met you and thought the sun shone out of your tailbone.’
Of course he ignored that too. ‘You always had fire when roused.’ They both heard the echo of a similar word. Was that aroused?
He held out her drink and she took it carefully, so as not to touch his hand. Again his gaze met hers and she looked away. Knew his gaze never left her face. She could tell even with her fierce concentration on her glass.
His voice drifted over her like a wraith, encircling her, pulling tighter. ‘But still there is more. Yesterday you were incredibly efficient. Practised. Calm. Capable. All things I knew you would be.’
She didn’t want to hear this. She wanted out. ‘Why don’t you cut to the chase, Stefano? Why are you here on this ship?’ And, more to the point, ‘Why am I here in your suite?’
He stepped closer. ‘The truth?’
She shrugged, trying hard to disguise the fact she was getting more spooked by the minute. ‘Novel idea, I know.’
He came to stand in front of her chair. ‘I could not forget you.’
‘Spare me.’ Please don’t say that, she pleaded mentally. ‘It took you nine months to figure that out?’ She winced. Unobtrusively she eased back in the seat to create a little more space. Now she could inhale his aftershave, just a wisp, and it was true: the sense of smell was the one true memory.
He looked down. Apparently sincere. ‘I did search for you.’
‘Then you’re not very good at it, are you?’ She’d still been in the same flat for the next five months. Waiting. Hoping he’d at least call back. Until she’d woke up to reality. ‘Tell me. When did this fictitious search occur?’
Thankfully he stepped across to the window that looked out from the stern of the ship and she could breathe again.
The glorious picture window framed the blue of the ocean, the trail of the wash from their ship, and the haze of land off to the east. And the outline of Stefano’s magnificent frame.
‘It was many months before I could begin. Only now, through chance,’ he added more thoughtfully, ‘or fate, have I found your whereabouts...’
He’d waited months! Not in a hurry to find her, then. Four weeks after he’d left she’d discovered she was pregnant. Another fourteen weeks and she’d been desperate for him to call so she could share her confusion, share her joy at the promise of finally feeling as if she belonged to someone, share her fears and hopes with the father of her child. Instead she had been completely alone.
But not as alone as she’d been when her baby had slipped away one silent night. The doctor had said her baby had a cardiac malfunction, a missing part so the growth could not progress, and she had accepted that—with grief, like the lacking in the relationship it had come from. The grief had been worse because in the beginning she had been ambivalent about its coming. Had thought more of the complications than of her own child until it had been too late for fierce regrets.
And the due date was next week.
The ever-present ache squeezed in her heart. It was time to go before her control let her down. ‘Great. Thanks for that.’ She stood, glanced at him up and down. ‘You look well. Don’t seem to be pining. I think you’ll survive.’
He stepped back into her comfort zone. ‘Is Hobson your lover?’
They were standing chest to chest, a pulsing fission of air between then, and she almost missed the question.
What? Where did this guy get off? But stoking up her anger was a good idea. Much better than sadness. Anger made her feel less trapped. Less baited by his need for control at this moment. Less weak.
Flippantly, with an airy wave of her hand, she said, ‘He’s one of
them.’
The flare in his eyes stunned her.
‘Then his position has become vacant.’
She blinked. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She sat down again in shock. Any other man and she’d think he was joking. ‘You can’t do that.’ Wrong thing to say. She knew it as soon as it was out of her mouth.
He didn’t even have to say it out loud. Of course he could do it. The power of the Mykonides in the Mediterranean had never been in doubt.
Her turn to back-pedal. She’d suspected he had this side, had just never been shown it before. ‘Of course Will’s not my lover.’
Stefano cursed his temper, something he usually had an iron control over, and wheeled away to look over the sea again. The sea was unpredictable today, like his feelings for Kiki, and just as dangerous. More bad behaviour on his part. But despite that he felt his shoulders relax a little. He had not believed Hobson was her lover, but the concept had been gnawing at him since his visit to the ship’s hospital this morning.
So what else had she said that was not true. ‘Is there a man in your life at the moment?’ He could feel the beast within him stir at the thought, and it didn’t escape his notice that he had no right to ask such a thing.
She opened her eyes wide. ‘Is there a man in yours?’
Little witch. ‘Why are you baiting me?’
She glared back at him. ‘Because apologies and good wishes haven’t appeared on the menu and that was what I was promised.’
She had a point. And again he was behaving badly. Why did this happen with the woman he wanted to liaise honourably with?
He paced and came to stop in front of her. ‘I sincerely apologise for leaving without explaining my reasons.’
She nodded. ‘And the phone calls you didn’t return?’
Those he could not remember? ‘I did not get them.’
‘Perhaps not.’ Her tone said she didn’t care any more and she put her glass down. ‘I accept your apology. Thank you for my drink.’ It was untouched.
The Prince Who Charmed Her Page 3