“Excellent,” Vince nodded. “Then there’s something else I need to discuss with you. In private.”
Edeena didn’t move. “I’m not finished organizing the files.”
Prudence spoke hurriedly. “You go on ahead, dear. I can put these documents into a possible order, and it will be much easier for you to re-sort them once I’m through. Whenever you get back.”
Vince stood and held out a hand, and Edeena reluctantly took it. The touch of her fingers in his sent a jolt of fire through him, but he was done trying to resist it. He had Edeena for a week, and a week would need to be enough. As long as she was completely on board with the program, that is. He had some work to do to cover the rest of his assignments for the next several days, but he could do that later. After he made a few things clear.
“Where are we going?” Edeena asked warily as she moved with him through the house. She’d expected him to head for the front door, he knew, but he wasn’t about to do that. He was the one who’d placed all the cameras in the house. He didn’t want any footage of him making a pass at his own client surfacing somewhere on his servers.
“We’re going for a walk,” he said instead.
“I’m not dressed for—”
“A short walk.”
They emerged from the screened porch moments later, and Vince dropped Edeena’s hand as he trotted down the steps ahead of her. Camera 7 tracked them discreetly from above the gutter, and he pointedly did not look at it. Camera 8 would be picking up their trail at the fountain, but the magnolia tree forest became denser at that turn, and he had a good hundred feet or so of relative privacy until they reached the dock with its cameras 9, 10 and 13.
Thank God he’d not decided to use drone coverage for the Saleri house, or even this moment of privacy wouldn’t be possible.
“You’re being very strange,” Edeena said testily as they moved beneath the canopy of the trees. He glanced back as they turned another corner, the move casual enough to pass muster, then stepped closer to her.
“Pause a moment here, if you would.”
Obediently she stopped, turning to look at him, and then understanding flashed in her eyes.
Only as usual, it was the wrong understanding. “This was all a misdirection, wasn’t it?” she asked, her brows lifting sharply. “You have something you need to tell me, only you didn’t want Prudence suspecting. What is it?” She clenched her fists at her side. “Is it Prudence? Something you’ve learned about Silas?”
“No,” Vince said in an effort to quell her response, but Edeena was already turning away to pace a few short steps then come back.
“The girls are in Charleston, but they’re safe, they have to be safe.” She looked up at him, and he nodded, willing to let her work it out. “It’s not Silas, it’s not Prudence—ah! It’s the house.”
Was it his imagination, or did she sound relieved? “There’s something wrong with the house. The realtors said they would have to do research to ensure Mother’s estate was clear, and . . .”
Vince couldn’t help it, he laughed. Edeena stopped cold, her face blanking with anger. “What?” she snapped. “Explain this, because I seriously do not understand.”
“Is it so hard to imagine that I simply wanted you alone, Edeena? That I couldn’t bear arguing with you anymore?”
That stopped her, and she blinked at him. Vince pressed his advantage. “Have you even stopped to consider that the idea of you marrying someone else so carelessly, so casually . . . is making me a little bit crazy?”
“But, why would you care?” Edeena sounded genuinely perplexed, even as a blush darkened her cheeks.
“Because I want to be with you, Edeena. God help me, I want it more than anything. I swore that I wouldn’t—couldn’t—make a move. But now that I know this plan of yours to throw your life away . . .”
Vince edged forward, intimately close, and Edeena reflexively stepped back, her hands lifting to his chest as if to ward him away.
But she didn’t push him away. Instead her hands lingered there, light and firm on his pecs, and his abs tightened in response to the touch of her fingers. He stepped closer, and Edeena’s breath caught, her face lifting.
Instead of crowding her further, however, Vince lifted his own hands and covered hers. Her skin was hot, her fingers shaking, and he squeezed them gently as he met her gaze. “I need to make something very clear, Edeena. I want to spend time with you this coming week, not for any sort of professional security reasons, though I can assure you you’ll be completely safe at all times while you’re in my presence.”
Well, not completely safe. He hurried to amend his words. “Completely in control.” Also not quite right, but Edeena didn’t seem to be paying close attention. Her eyes were thick with an emotion he couldn’t quite place, her lips had parted to accommodate her rushed breathing, and her heart was beating loud enough that he could hear it in the hush of the magnolia trees.
“No?” she managed faintly.
Vince shook his head. “No. I want to do it because I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since that night at the Sea Witch. Your beautiful eyes . . .” he leaned forward and drifted his lips across her forehead, down the gentle curve of her cheek. “Your soft skin . . . your mouth.” He tasted that mouth then, feeling it warm and firm beneath his. “I’m doing this because I can’t imagine wasting another week, another day, thinking about you cooped up in this house, while I’m off working jobs that’ll be there next week and the week after. But you won’t be here, will you, Edeena?”
“No,” she whispered and he nodded, then pressed his lips more firmly to hers for one, long, exquisite moment. She kissed him back, and he could taste the beginnings of her own desperation in that kiss. It was enough, he realized. It was more than enough.
Then he stepped back. “Today I have to take care of everything to clear the decks for the coming week. I suggest you do the same,” he said as she stared at him, her hands still locked in his. He quirked a grin to lessen the intensity of his words, though in truth he was ready to haul her off through the trees right then.
“But starting tomorrow, Countess Saleri . . . you’re mine.”
Chapter Eight
Edeena sat stiffly next to Vince the next morning, doing everything she could not to wring her hands in her lap. Why shouldn’t she enjoy her last week on the island? Despite his very credible attempt at flirting, she knew in her heart that Vince was merely feeling sorry for her. She’d even entertained horrified suspicions of Cousin Prudence putting him up to be her chaperone, but she didn’t care. She did want to get out, to be squired around by an attractive man, to enjoy herself for once. It wasn’t going to last long—it certainly wouldn’t matter in the long run—but she’d already made the crucial decisions and set up everything perfectly for her sisters, her family. She could enjoy this.
The top ten most likely candidates in the files her father had sent her were not bad options, she told herself for the millionth time. All of them had money, some of them even worked for it. They would likely be reasonably interesting and charming, right? Even if they weren’t, she’d be fine.
They wouldn’t be Vince, of course, but Vince wasn’t noble. She needed to stop thinking about him altogether.
Besides, no man should look the way he did, and at the same time, look at her the way he did, with those dark, flashing eyes and the curious intensity of his expression, as if he were a spring about to be released. He was too alive, if there was such a thing. Too rough, too raw. Nothing at all like the men Edeena had met in Garronia.
Men who would be waiting for her when she returned in a few short days, she reminded herself again. But until she was officially summoned, she didn’t have to worry about that, either.
“Do I want to know what you’re thinking?” Vince asked, his voice almost gentle, despite the heat she could feel pouring off him. The moment he’d arrived that morning to collect her, she’d sensed that heat. Sensed it and matched it with her own, a curious thri
ll of excitement curling through her. So this is what flirting feels like. She wondered if she’d ever start breathing normally again.
“Where are we going?” she redirected him. “You still haven’t said. Caroline is completely beside herself that you’re exploring someplace with me she hasn’t visited herself.”
“Well, it’s not on the island proper, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t given approval for a boat excursion,” he said. “So yeah, I doubt she’s seen it.”
That did catch her attention. “Not on the island proper?” They’d taken the main island road in the opposite direction of the Cypress Resort, and were now, true enough, angling down toward the beach and the public marina. “You’re taking me on a cruise?”
He barked a laugh. “Not exactly. It’s a short trip, actually, but a place my mother reminded me of. You can get there by ferry.”
“Ferry.” She fell silent as Vince pulled into a parking spot at the marina. She eyed the lone speedboat in the nearest slip. “That doesn’t look like a ferry.”
“I don’t like to wait.” They boarded the boat a few minutes later, Edeena gratefully accepting the life jacket. She could swim, and it was high summer, but that didn’t mean she had any burning desire to try out the crisply-rolling South Carolina waves anytime soon.
Under Vince’s capable hands, the boat eased out into the ocean and began jetting over open water, and Edeena felt another rope of tension fall off her shoulders. She’d forgotten how much she loved the water, any water, but especially the wide open possibility of the ocean. The Aegean Sea that fronted Garronia’s capital city was certainly more blue than the Atlantic, but she reveled in the saltwater spray, the stiff breeze, and the bright sun overhead. Had Vince known, somehow, that she’d missed the water so much? Surely not.
Still, he seemed equally happy to be leaving Sea Haven behind them, and within only a few minutes, a new land mass emerged on the horizon, a cheerful island of lush trees and swaying grasses. “Are those wild horses, there on the beach?” she asked, her eyes going wide. Vince cut the boat’s power and they approached the no-wake zone.
“Probably,” he said. “Like the land opposite Heron’s Point, most of Pearl Island is a nature preserve. There are only a few businesses—bed and breakfasts, some artists’ shops, and a small museum—and the island caters to an exclusive clientele.”
She frowned. “There seemed to be plenty of money on Sea Haven.”
“Not so much money here as isolation,” Vince said. “People come here to get away—truly get away—without having to travel too far.”
“Like a retreat vacation? Yoga and meditation?”
Vince laughed. “Give it another five years and some favorable zoning changes, and probably. Right now, it’s a little more rustic than that. But pretty.”
“I like pretty,” Edeena murmured, and in truth, she was already half in love with the quiet little island before even stepping foot on it. In another few minutes, Vince had docked the boat and helped her out to the tidy little pier, and she waited while he ducked into the marina’s small white-washed office to pay for his water parking. The sun seemed warmer here, the breeze softer, and she looked around the cute area surrounding the pier with interest. There were a few old, large, Victorian-style houses lining the long block and curling around the road that she could see, and even a bit of a main street, with cute shops sprouting between what had to be more residences.
Vince joined her, holding out his hand. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for her to take it, to feel that zing of excitement when his fingers squeezed gently.
“I thought you said this place didn’t generate traffic. How do those stores stay in business?”
He looked where she was pointing. “During summer season, there’s a tourist crowd, especially for the folks staying here longer than a few days. Most of the shop owners live in the house next door, and a lot of them are artists, writers, that sort of thing. They work right in their studios, so if someone happens to want to buy something, well, they can come on in.”
“That’s . . . lovely,” Edeena sighed, and Vince was right. They passed two painters and a potter, the potter working in the back of the shop, while the painters’ storefronts boasted small placards featuring a telephone number and a cheerful request for anyone interested in something in the shop’s window to call. A cute coffee shop across the street with what looked like a large tree-shrouded back lot doubled as an internet café and reading room, and the entire place seemed to work further on Edeena’s frazzled nerves, lulling her with the cadence of the quietly lapping ocean.
They stopped at the shop and ordered two lattes to go, then Vince pulled her outside again, setting off along the main road as it curved up the small rise. There was no longer a sidewalk here, but with virtually no traffic and wide, sandy berms to each side, it was no hardship taking the long, meandering walk.
“Is that another B&B?” She shielded her gaze from the sun. As the dunes gave way to slightly higher grasslands, she could see a large rambling house. It was nearly as large as Heron’s Point, weathered by endless sun, salt, and wind, but majestic as it rose up around the piled dunes. It was maybe a full mile inland, the only house she could see for at least a half mile in either direction. “I’m surprised it’s not on stilts.”
“Owners of that place were legendary for their stubbornness, convinced that no storm would take a house so big. They’ve been proven right so far. And it is a B&B technically, though no one has stayed there for years. It’s more known for its private museum on island life. The current owners are in their eighties. Kind of benignly scattered, in the way some old people can get.”
The words were judgmental, but Vince spoke them easily, and Edeena eyed him. “If they’re ‘scattered,’ as you say, then how can they live all the way out here on their own? That seems dangerous.”
“Grandson is staying with them now, fixing the place up—not to sell, though he’d get a hell of a price for it. He’s some kind of professor, researcher, something like that. Keeps to himself, but while he’s at it, he looks after his grandparents and their friends.”
“Friends?”
“Old folks home on Sea Haven. The whole lot of ’em ferry back and forth several times a week to play cards, wander the grounds, paint, you name it. Today’s Wednesday, so they won’t be here.”
“And that’s because . . .”
He grinned at her. “Bingo tournament. Gotta have your priorities straight. But that works out. I wanted you to see the collection without the grandparents hovering.”
Vince knew he shouldn’t feel this happy simply squiring around a woman on Pearl Island, but he couldn’t help himself. He hadn’t taken full week of vacation since he first started the business ten years ago as an idiot college kid hustling house sitting jobs. Now the week ahead stretched out like an open promise, and he knew instinctively that bringing Edeena here had been the right decision. She fit the place the way he thought she would, at home on the beach, on the water, the sea wind lifting her hair. And she didn’t even know the surprise he had in store for her, if the professor was up for visitors.
Edeena picked up on his excitement, and cocked a glance at him. “What kind of collection?”
“You’ll see,” he grinned. They entered the grand walk, and sure enough, there was a figure standing on the stairway leading down to the wide front yard. Pinnacle House wasn’t run down by any stretch, but it still possessed the quiet sort of disrepair that had ensured it would never draw too much attention from the untutored eye.
The man who watched over it now was similar, Vince thought, staring at them as they approached. He didn’t know much about Simon Blake, other than he came from a modest amount of money and an immodest amount of intellect, a muckety-muck professor already making news at the College of Charleston though he wasn’t yet thirty. He researched something highly specific and not very useful, Vince remembered, but he couldn’t place it exactly. Like music’s effect on the nervous system or the d
evelopment language in hamsters. He was a little tweedy, to Vince’s eye, but he wasn’t a bad sort, just a little gruff.
Now the man was on sabbatical or on summer break, Vince wasn’t sure, but as with most summers and weekends, he was out at the big house, running down the endless repairs and managing the occasional guests of his grandparents.
To Vince’s surprise, Simon didn’t bark at them that the museum had closed, as Vince had thought he might. He was tall, slender and built at odd angles, but Vince had seen him up on the roof of the house after a storm. The man didn’t shy away from hard work. “Simon,” he called out.
“Vince Rallis,” Simon rumbled, his gaze swinging to Edeena. “Playing tour guide, I see.”
It was quite possibly the most words he’d ever heard the man utter, and Vince eyed him strangely. “Miss Edeena Saleri,” he said, and Simon’s eyes lit with interest as he studied her, though Vince suspected it wasn’t because of her title.
“Saleri,” he said the word as if tasting it. “An usual name. You’re not American, but not European exactly either. Further south, east. But not Middle East. Greek?”
Edeena laughed with delight and Simon’s gaze darted back to Vince, uncertain of whether he’d guessed correctly.
In that moment, Vince remembered Simon’s primary field of study—a branch of anthropology that tracked the impact of environment on mannerisms and personality. Edeena wasn’t a mere stranger to South Carolina, she was an entirely new research subject, and Simon had picked her out at sixty paces.
Maybe Vince could learn something from the man for his business. Either way, he drew Edeena a little more tightly to his side. Simon was too late, Vince found himself thinking, somewhat irrationally. He’d met Edeena first.
Edeena glanced at him as well, confirming Simon was someone she could tell her story to. At Vince’s nod, she turned her sunny smile on the man and spoke.
Cursed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 5 Page 8