“Breathtaking,” he answered irritably. I admitted that I just wanted to hear it
again.
“Do you own a dress that takes at least a yard of material to make? I should have paid better attention when you were shopping.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “It’s very difficult to see through eyes glazed over with
boredom. By the way, where are we going?”
“Manzanillo.”
“Mexico?” I asked excitedly.
He scowled as he helped me into the transport pod.
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We had only to port, and then we were literally at the restaurant. It was
located on the small peninsula jutting out from the center of the city. We walked up the dock and met a hostess standing outside. She was a beautiful, black-haired woman with a thick native accent.
“Do you have reservations?” she asked, rolling the R.
“Emerson,” he answered. I glanced at him, but he shrugged.
She consulted her handheld device. “Ah. The other guest in your party has
already arrived and been seated. Please follow me.”
We followed her upstairs to the open deck. White-clothed tables adorned the
top-deck dining area, and the patrons chattered excitably with their dinner
groups. My own excitement grew as I realized we would get to watch the sunset
from here. A real one.
She ushered us to a table by the railing. A well-built blond man in a blue
shirt and black slacks stood there with his back turned to us, peering down at the beach from the railing.
“I hope you’re not spitting,” Nicoli told him, his voice full of authority. “I
thought you’d outgrown that.”
The man laughed and whirled around, grinning. And I gasped.
He did too. “You. It’s you!”
I covered my mouth with my hand. It was the blue-eyed soldier I had
stitched up on the last day I saw my island. It was incredibly, undeniably,
impossibly Blue Eyes.
We regarded each other with supreme shock. Nicoli snapped his head back
and forth between us.
“You know each other?” he asked, incredulous.
Blue Eyes, er, Ryon nodded. “That’s her, Nicoli,” he said, wide-eyed. “That’s
the girl I’m going to marry.”
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Nicoli swore vehemently. He turned to me. “How do you know each other?”
Ryon interrupted, “That’s classified information, Nicoli.”
Nicoli rolled his eyes and kept his glare on me. I blurted out the events,
hoping it made sense despite the way it ran together. “He was one of the soldiers sent to find me on my island. I had stumbled over him. He was injured. His leg.
Artery nicked, with some muscle damage. Stitched him up. Morphine. Blue-eyed
soldier.”
By the time I was finished, Nicoli was pinching the bridge of his nose and
Ryon was grinning wide.
“Green-eyed doctor,” he said with irony. “That’s what I’ve been calling you.”
A gregarious server interrupted our already awkward reunion. “Can I get
you something to drink?” he asked, smiling at no one in particular.
Nicoli clasped his hands in front of him. “I think a bottle of scotch would be
entirely appropriate.”
I nodded. “Three glasses, please.”
After a few strong sips of the smooth, burning liquid, I was able to tell a
more detailed version of how I had come to meet Nicoli’s younger brother. When
I was finished, both men stared at me in silence. And both were frowning.
Ryon was the first to speak. “You really shouldn’t have headed toward the
fighting, Elyse. You could have gotten yourself killed,” he scolded, his blue eyes piercing me with rebuke. Nicoli reproved me with the same look.
The two most attractive men on the planet were teaming up against me. I
wasn’t sure if I was going to be a happy drunk or a mean one, but I took another
sip before I answered.
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“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to in that tone, Ryon Marek,” I snapped. “But unless you can provide me with some new, alternate definition for
the word doctor, I would think it would be perfectly clear why I headed toward the gunfire. I would think that you, of all people, would be grateful for it.”
A mean one, then. I took another sip.
He stared at me in disbelief for a few seconds, and then grinned at Nicoli.
“Oh. So, that’s what it feels like to be put in my place.”
“It takes getting used to,” Nicoli agreed.
“She has a bit of a temper, doesn’t she?”
“You cannot really know.” Nicoli grinned. “Uh, Elyse, you might want to
take it easy on the—”
“I’m fine.” Still, I did put the glass down. And then I moved it away from my
hand. I looked at the two men, who smiled at each other like fools.
“Are you two really brothers?” I asked. “You look nothing alike.” The only
thing they had in common was their muscular build. Oh, and they were both
devastatingly good looking. Everything else, though, contrasted outrageously.
Nicoli said, “Ryon was adopted,” at the same time Ryon said, “Nicoli is the
ugly stepchild.” And then they laughed.
Yep, definitely brothers.
“Ryon gets his blond hair and blue eyes from our mother. She’s an
American,” Nicoli said. “His ego comes from our father though.”
“And Nicoli gets his black hair and sultry olive skin from our father, the
Egyptian,” Ryon chimed in smugly. “And his feminine tendencies come from
our mother.”
I giggled, and Nicoli winked at me.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Ryon told Nicoli. “Your father has asked me to relay
a message to you. He would like very much for you to set a date for the
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wedding. He is also a little perturbed that you cannot be reached lately. He said he doubts you would enjoy a visit. He also said it with that face he makes when
he’s serious.”
I stiffened at the mention of Nicoli’s impending wedding.
“You…you haven’t set a date yet?” I asked in a near whisper. He was
already looking at me.
“No, I have not.” And then to Ryon, “You may tell your father that it is my wedding, and that I will set a date when I am ready.”
Ryon smiled excitedly. “Do you mind if I choose my own wording when I
tell him?”
Nicoli shrugged. “You have to limit the use of expletives to three.”
His younger brother was disappointed. “I’ll make do, I guess,” he said
sullenly. Then he perked up. “You know, at this rate, Elyse and I will be married before you will.”
Nicoli’s jaw tensed, and I could tell a nerve had been struck. Ryon took my
hand in his, stroking it with his fingertips.
“We could elope tonight, if you wanted to,” he told me conspiratorially. His
blue eyes shone with pure mischief, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
Nicoli cleared his throat. Loudly. Twice. “Ryon, if I had known you were
going to assault Dr. Morgan, I wouldn’t have brought her. The only reason I did
was because I was under the impression you were saving yourself for your
mystery woman, saint that
you are.”
Ryon smiled at him wickedly. “You couldn’t have known that she was my
mystery woman. I still can’t believe you’re here,” he said to me. “I still remember that day so clearly. You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.”
“You can’t be serious. I was a mess. I was covered in dirt, grime and blood.
And my hair. Ugh!” I still didn’t want to know what that had looked like.
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“Beautiful,” he said again. “Those green eyes—I dream about them every
night.”
I hoped my cheeks were already red with the scotch because I knew they
would be blushing on their own right now. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw
Nicoli run a frustrated hand through his hair.
Then I remembered Ryon’s medical chart, and the importance of not adding
to it tonight.
And suddenly, I felt I was being punished for wearing the white dress.
“Uh, Ryon, I’m flattered, but…I’m not sure I could satisfy your…ambitious
personality,” I said delicately.
He snorted. “So, my reputation precedes me, does it?” He glared at Nicoli.
“You gossip like an old lady.”
“I prefer to call it ‘briefing’,” Nicoli answered, shrugging.
Ryon turned to me, his blue eyes burning with the intent to melt my resolve.
I could tell his extensive experience went into the focused gaze.
And it had no effect on me. Not with Nicoli Marek within arm’s reach.
“I’ve sworn off all other women since that day, without even knowing your
name or if I would ever see you again. That has to count for something,” he said.
“And as far as you being able to satisfy me…” he added huskily.
“Ryon,” Nicoli growled. “I’m going to have to ask you to take your hands off
Dr. Morgan.”
“You can ask,” he replied without tearing his gaze away from me.
“Ryon,” Nicoli said again, louder this time. “Get your damn hands off
Elyse.”
This got his attention. He snapped his head toward his brother, though he
did release my hand. “Why should you care, Nicoli?”
Yes, Nicoli, let’s hear it, by all means.
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He didn’t falter in his reply. “There was a reason Ralph entrusted her safety
to me instead of you, Ryon. If you feel this was done in error, you can take that up with him. As it stands though, she’s my responsibility. And if she’s my
responsibility, you won’t be touching her. You can schedule a play date for
another time.”
He was going to pay for that.
Ryon scowled at his older brother. “Yes, that’s another thing,” he said sourly.
“Ralph. He knew where she was the entire time and didn’t tell me. He knew how
I felt about her.” He turned to me and grinned. “And did…did you send me a
bill?”
I nodded, and he threw his head back in laughter. Even Nicoli snickered.
“You are definitely the woman for me.” Ryon shook his head.
Nicoli stopped laughing.
“I would suggest we have a double wedding with Nicoli and Inga, but if we
wait around for that, we’ll never get married,” Ryon carried on.
Inga. The anonymous woman now had a name. Inga. And she was beautiful,
as Dr. Folsom had pointed out so long ago. Nicoli had a beautiful fiancée named
Inga.
Nicoli stared at me, his eyes full of unease as he, no doubt, tried to discern
my thoughts. I looked away from him.
“Our children could play together,” Ryon was saying. My gut wrenched
with the thought of Nicoli having children with the glorious Inga, of his hands
being on her in that way—
“Ryon—” Nicoli tried to interject. His brother didn’t notice.
“The four of us could vacation all over the world, as a family. Remember
when we used to go to Japan, Nicoli? Oh, but they’re not still upset over your
little stunt there, are they? You’re not still banned from the country—”
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“No,” Nicoli said curtly. “Ryon—”
“Good. Oh, you’ll really like Inga, Elyse. She’s not as gorgeous as you, of
course, and not as witty either, but she’s quiet, and not so self-important as some of these other—”
“Ryon!” Nicoli pounded his fist against the table. The action lowered the
decibels of the conversation around us, and I could feel curious glances reflected off my back.
Ryon stopped and stared at his brother. “What?”
But the damage had been done. No, no, that wasn’t fair. The damage had
been done a very long time ago, when I decided it would be okay to get close to
this man, knowing I would never be able to act on my feelings for him. My
stomach twisted, realizing the full pain of the consequences.
That I hadn’t physically violated the pact of their engagement did not make me feel better. I could see by the expression on Nicoli’s face that I violated it in every other way. I had betrayed—by Ryon’s accounting of her—a very likeable,
very real woman, with real feelings.
I looked at Nicoli, knowing my turmoil was barely masked. What I had to do
would hurt us both.
I smiled weakly at Ryon, amid the wounds still entrenching themselves on
my heart. “You have a wild imagination, Ryon,” I teased. “But you don’t even
know me. What if I snore? What if I drool in my sleep? How could you live with
that?”
“Who said anything about sleeping?” He grinned at me. “Also, I’m such an
ass for not mentioning it sooner, but that dress is—”
“Ryon,” Nicoli growled, but apparently Ryon hadn’t meant to finish his
compliment anyway. And there was no need. I could see in his eyes how he felt
about my dress. I was definitely being punished.
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“I’m not saying no,” I lied. “I’m just saying, maybe we ought to wait until my life isn’t constantly being threatened, and we can look at this more objectively.”
Yeah, because objectivity is my specialty.
“So,” he said. “That’s what it feels like to be rejected. Tonight is full of firsts for me.”
“I’m sure you’ll adjust,” Nicoli ground out.
“What else can I do?” Ryon smiled at his brother, then winked at me. He
seemed oblivious to the tension between me and Nicoli. “Hey, when’s the last
time you talked to Amisiri?” he asked Nicoli.
They spent the rest of the evening catching up with family business. If the
reality that my hopes and dreams were now dashed into pieces—then twisted
cruelly into the nightmare I now called life—hadn’t dominated my thoughts, I
would have enjoyed the evening immensely. The two bantered and picked at
each other in their brotherly affection, saturating the atmosphere with what
seemed like an inexhaustible supply of testosterone, pride and wisecracks.
Nicoli continued to throw concerned glances in my direction as I pushed
around the food on my plate. I tried to eat and to drink plenty of water—I
needed to reverse any effects the alcohol might still have on my wits.
Because I would need all of them for what
I had to do on the ride home.
It took me more than half the trip home to get up the courage to say what
needed to be said. I fidgeted in my seat and stared out at the darkness
encompassing the pod. I was grateful that we had already changed into our
uniforms. Somehow I felt our dinner attire would have been a threat to the
already intimate turn I knew the conversation ahead would take.
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I inhaled deeply. “In the morning, I’m requesting that I be transferred to a
different ship to finish my research.”
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He stiffened, his jaw tightening as it always did. He cursed under his breath.
“My brother is an idiot.”
Although that particular response was unexpected, I knew what he meant
when he said it. “Your brother just pointed out the obvious.”
“Don’t do this.” He stopped the pod and turned to face me. “Please don’t do
this.”
“Why? Because you haven’t won the challenge yet? Oh, you can be assured
that you won that, Nicoli Marek. I forfeit. I am far from impervious to you.
Congratulations. You can leave me alone now.” Despite my anger, I felt relieved
in having said it.
“It was never about any damn challenge,” he ground out, closing his eyes. “I
wanted you. It was always about you. If you don’t come with winning the
challenge, then it isn’t a win at all.”
“Then it isn’t a win. I told you from the very beginning that I wouldn’t be the
other woman. Why would I commit my life to a man who has committed his life to someone else?” Aside from the fact that I was completely and irreversibly in
love with him.
“It wouldn’t have to be like that, Elyse. There isn’t anything that I couldn’t
give you. There isn’t anything that I wouldn’t do for you. You would be my life.
You already are.”
“Will you listen to yourself? You can’t hear how extraordinary it sounds?” I
fought the tears that were pooling because of his admission.
Degrees of Wrong
He groaned and massaged his temples.
“What if she wants children?” I asked. His head snapped toward me. “I’m
sure I don’t have to explain the science behind the miracle of life, Nicoli. I’m
equally as sure your father will not be entrusting the family heritage to the
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