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