Niko's Stolen Bride (10 page)

“He fish and fish,” he said as he pointed at Eduardo, “and he never catch.” He thumped his chest with one hand. “He send me to buy.” He reached to give a quick tug at the sleeve of Kara’s shirt, and winked at her, his smile wide, inviting her into his enjoyment of the moment. “He pretend he catch? Yes? But you come back too soon.”

Eduardo tilted his head and shot Kara a glance, good-natured humor tilting his lips, but didn’t deny the accusation.

She smiled back, her gaze moving between the two men. Even with the difference in their ages, they appeared to get along well. Eduardo, she’d learned, had four grown children and several grandchildren, so was comfortable dealing with young people. Calm, kind and a bit thick through the middle, it was hard to imagine him as a younger man, burning up the floor dance floor at Miami’s hottest night clubs as he’d claimed earlier today. “I think the scallops would have given him away. I can’t see Eduardo diving for them.”

The older man stroked his short salt-and-pepper beard then grinned. “You have me there. These last few years, I prefer to get my hook wet, not myself.”

It was amazing how comfortable she felt here, how much she was enjoying herself. Images of what should have been drifted at the edges of her consciousness. Herself in the beautiful champagne dress, dancing the father-daughter dance, cutting the cake and crying a small tear at the toasts. With brute force, she pushed them aside, focusing on the here and now.

The tantalizing smell of the dried herbs Eduardo had sprinkled on the fish before he’d battered it was filling the kitchen and probably drifting up the stairs. Niko was there, in the pilot house just off the main cabin. He’d been at the controls since they’d left the harbor, right after sunset. She suspected he was avoiding her.

It was easier this way. Seeing him was not something she looked forward to after the kiss they’d shared. Soon, she would be back at Sanibel. She could walk way and try to forget this day ever happened. Forget Niko and the feel of his skin on hers. Forget everything.

George moved to pour a glass of white wine and place it before her. The table where she sat was a neat innovation that slid into the cabinetry when not in use. When extended, it provided either additional room for food preparation in the small galley or a place where the crew ate while guests had their meal in the dining area upstairs. The chairs were lightweight metal, stackable and stored in a closet that doubled as a pantry. George took a glass of wine for himself and then moved back to his sentry position in the doorway.

Kara was grateful for the wine. She was beyond tired. She hadn’t slept at all the night before, then she and Niko had walked miles around the island. Sipping at the green-gold liquid, she leaned back and crossed one ankle over the other.

The slight scratch of the beaded anklet she wore caught her attention. She twisted her foot to look at it.

“Niko, he give you?” George asked, glancing at the small strap of fine rope and beads.

She nodded, a flush rising to her cheekbones as Eduardo turned to look as well, one eyebrow raised. “A man was making them on the pier.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it sounded plausible and was better than sparking their curiosity by admitting that Niko had asked the man to make it to his design.

“Is good. Like our protection against the evil eye.” George reached with one finger to pull at his lower eyelid then curled his other hand into a menacing claw, like an old crone or witch ready to attack. He swatted at her with his hand then fell back, one fist clutched to his chest as if struck by the invisible aura that protected her.

She nearly choked on her wine as she and Eduardo broke into laughter.

“We have the traditional evil eye talismans on board,” Eduardo put in softly. He pointed to a small ornament that hung in the port hole over the single sink. Made of glass in concentric circles of dark blue, white and light blue, the pupil of the eye was formed by a large black dot in the center. “There’s another in the pilot house. Some of the Maragos ships that port in Greece have them painted on their bow.”

“Do you believe it works?” she asked. It was hard to imagine that a simple blue-and-white piece of glass could be useful against harmful intentions.

He shrugged as he turned back to the stove and flipped over the fish in the pan he held with one hand. “There are many dangers on the sea.”

Frowning, she stared down at the simple jewelry around her ankle. “It doesn’t look that much like the evil eye charm,” she said. “The beads remind me more of flowers. I think it was just a memento of my trip.”

George exchanged a quick look with Eduardo, a frown edging across his fine features. “Niko, he never do without a reason.”

Kara felt uncomfortable for an instant, as if there was something she had missed in the conversation. Before she could question it, Eduardo spoke over his shoulder.

“My wife, Estelle, works for a wedding planner in Miami. She likes to study stories about marriage customs.”

Kara tensed, waiting for some comment on her failed wedding plans. As part of the crew that was supposed to be shepherding the honeymoon couple around the Caribbean, he couldn’t fail to remember the marriage hadn’t taken place. It didn’t seem in Eduardo’s nature to deliberately bring up a subject that would upset her, but you never knew.

“Does she?” she asked finally.

“She said once that the bracelet was the symbol of marriage in Ancient Egypt.” He made a gesture across his wrist. “Like a ring, it was round and endless, as a marriage should be. Married women wore two on their wrist.”

Kara relaxed a little at that innocent comment. At the same time, she stared down at her bare left hand that was more tanned than usual from the day spent in the Florida sun. It was odd to see her finger without the diamond engagement ring that Frank had given her. Odd that she hadn’t missed the weight of it on her hand today.

If she’d been married this evening, she’d be wearing the gold wedding band that she and Frank had picked out. What would he do with it now? Better yet, what would she do with his? It was unlikely the jewelry store would take his back since it had been altered to fit his hand. Pawning it seemed a bit cold-hearted, but seeing it in her jewelry box every morning would be a reminder that she didn’t need to face.

Eduardo continued, his tone deliberately casual. “In India, brides wear as many glass bracelets as they can get on their arms during the ceremony. It’s said that when the last glass bracelet is broken, the honeymoon is over.”

“Really.”

With a practiced move, he flipped the fish from the pan onto a waiting plate, his tone level. “I’ve always liked that one. I think I’ll give my daughter one of these bracelets as a gift when she marries.”

She forced a smile but didn’t answer. A marriage bracelet. Was Eduardo suggesting Niko intended something of the sort by his gift? Impossible. She was sure he’d meant it as a simple memento, one knotted in a pattern that he liked.

Of course, it could be a Greek charm. But if it was, what did Niko think she needed protection from? Or whom?

* * *

Niko
sensed her presence immediately. He didn’t know whether it was her subtle perfume carried on the air or some small sound she made, but he knew the instant she stepped out on the deck. The ship was running with the minimum lighting required for safety, so it was dark. A sliver of moon overhead washed across the surfaces of the ship, leaving behind a faint silver sheen. He stood perfectly still, not sure whether to disturb her midnight wanderings.

“Can’t sleep since George took over from you?” she said.

He started in surprise at her words. He’d changed into dark slacks and tee-shirt and thought she couldn’t see him where he stood in the shadows against the bulkhead. Perhaps she was as attuned to him as he was to her.

Niko pushed away from the wall that blocked the aft deck from the sea spray and wind. “No. You?”

He barely saw the shake of her head. The same thought seemed to hang in the air between them; this was to have been her wedding night. By now, her guests would have been gone and she and Frank would be alone. Sharing. Touching. Celebrating life.

The jealousy that rose within him was as inevitable as the ebb and flow of the tides. He wanted to be the man on her mind, the one that kept her from sleeping. He’d known it from the moment he took her in his arms in the night club on Sanibel. The question was whether she would acknowledge the draw of the attraction between them.

Kara moved to sit on the edge of the padded bench that was farthest away from him. The light picked up her movements, draping her in shades of gray and white that reminded him of scenes from old movies. Her hair was loose and flowing around the shoulders of the light gray jacket she wore. Her tan shorts almost blended into the shadows thrown by the cushions and pillows beside her. Her head was turned and he couldn’t see her face, but his body knew her, reacting with a hard, fast tightening of muscles. He stepped across the smooth teak decking and dropped down beside her, close enough to be heard over the rushing of damp air around them, but not so near that he’d make her uneasy.

There was a brief flash as she checked the illuminating dial on her watch. “It’s nearly one o’clock. Didn’t you say we’d be back to Sanibel by midnight?”

It was a deliberate attempt to diffuse the tension between them. For a moment, he wanted to resist, wanted to talk about the wedding, to force her to see her relationship with Frank from a male point of view. She wasn’t ready. She needed more time away from him to regain perspective.

Never one to avoid the inevitable, he sucked in a deep breath before he spoke. “We’re not going back tonight.”

“What?” She jumped to her feet. “Where are we going?”

He stood more slowly, closing the distance between them, standing next to, but not quite touching her. “Nassau.”

“The Bahamas?” Her voice was high, cracking on the words. “Why?”

“Because you and I have unfinished business.”

Kara wrapped her arms around her chest as if a chill had spread across her skin, even with the light jacket she had on. “I’m not going. Turn this ship around right now and take me back.”

He shook his head slowly. “Before we left Sanibel, your father charged me with doing what’s best for you. I don’t believe you’re ready to go back yet.”

“You don’t–” She broke off as words failed her. “I am a grown woman, not a child.” Her tone was low, fast and furious. “I decide what I’m ready to do. Not my father. Not any man. Especially not you.”

“Why especially me?”

She ignored the question. “Do you have any idea how this will look to my family?” She moved away from him, turning to pace across the deck between the low sofas that edged each wall. “By now, they’ll all have heard about the woman in the back of the Hummer. They’ll think Frank got cold feet, but when I don’t come back, they’ll start to wonder what else might be going on. What exactly I’m doing here with you.”

“And what are you doing here with me?”

“Nothing.” She flung her hand out toward him in a gesture of frustration. “You know it wasn’t my choice. You, Dad and Elaina put your heads together and decided on this little trip. Dad said one day was all I needed. One day and it will be over. It will be just that easy.”

Her gaze latched onto his and he found himself drawn into the brown-green of her stare. “Would it be that simple for you?” she asked with the drip of acid in her tone.

He knew it wouldn’t. Healing would come slowly over many months. Sometimes, even years later the pain could still sneak up and surprise him in a weak moment. Unwilling to open that old wound, he hedged. “I’m not you.”

She stood, facing him, her gaze locking with his as a flush reddened the delicate peach of her skin. “Today was supposed to be my
wedding
day. I’m supposed to just forget it? I spent months planning the ceremony by the ocean, the flowers, my dress…”

Two steps and he was there, one arm sliding around her waist as he pulled her against his chest. He pushed his other hand under the silkiness of her golden brown hair, cradling her head into his shoulder. “Stop,” he commanded softly. “Don’t think about it.”

Good advice for himself as well, he thought with grim humor. Her body against his was an enticing pleasure. The softness of her breasts flattened against him, her abdomen pressed into his hips, her legs tangled with his all roused some primal instinct to pull her so close they were inseparable. With an effort, he kept his grasp light. She had other things to be concerned about than his uncanny receptiveness to the slightest physical contact with her.

“How can I think of anything else?” she bit out as she placed her palms against his chest and pushed out of his arms. “It’s humiliating. They’ll all know about Frank.”

“Then we will give them something else to talk about. Come away with me,” he urged.

She ran a hand through her hair and seemed to stare at the slow smile that had edged across the corners of his mouth. “They’ll think we ran away together,” she said, desperation edging into her tone.

“Perfect.”

The look she shot him was deadly. “I’ll look like a slut who left Frank to chase some guy I just met. You may not care what they think, but I have to live with these people the rest of my life.”

“Would it be a bad thing if your family thought you were having an affair with me? Let’s make them wonder who was really left at the altar.”