He voiced a word that bore more than a slight resemblance to a curse. ‘We’ve established you’re not coming quietly, Princess. But I need you to accept that you are coming.’
‘And you, Mr Mylonakos,’ she said, abandoning all attempts at being placatory, ‘need to accept that I’m not.’
‘Princess…’
‘No. I will not go with you. I refuse to go with you.’
He sighed. ‘Yes, so you said.’
‘Then why don’t you listen to me?’
‘Because you’re not safe here. You’re not safe anywhere on the planet until you’re safely returned to Rubanestein.’
‘I’m not safe in Rubanestein! Why can’t you get that through your head? Or are you a fan of forced marriages? Is that what this is about?’
‘Princess—’
‘Princess nothing. What if it was your sister? Would you be happy to marry her off to some creep to settle someone else’s gambling debts?’
His eyes were bleak. ‘My sister is dead.’ His voice was low and thick. Gravel over pain.
Oh.Her jibe about him having a sister was meant to be nothing more than a prompt, a search for empathy if there was any empathy to be found inside the man. She hadn’t expected to find tragedy instead.
‘I’m so sorry.’
He shook his head, as if trying to shake away her words. ‘Don’t be. It was a long time ago. It’s not your fault.’
‘I wasn’t apologising. I’m sorry for your loss.’
‘Good to know,’ he said, perfunctorily, the car pulling into a driveway.
Her eyes opened wide as she realised where she was. ‘You’re staying here?’ She’d only been on the island a few days, but it was long enough to know that Capella Lodge was one of the premier accommodation providers on the island. And one of the most expensive. ‘You must have some expense account. How much is my brother paying you?’
He looked skywards as he unclipped his seat belt.
‘Nowhere near enough,’ she said. ‘I get it.’
His head swivelled around, and she could see in his eyes that she’d answered her own question. She shrugged as she slipped her own seat belt from her shoulders. ‘You should have asked for more.’
He carried her bag into a suite that was decorated in a calming palette of navy blue and white, broken by cool timber trims and furniture.
‘Your bedroom is upstairs,’ he said. ‘I sleep down here.’
‘In case I try to run away?’
‘You can try, but what would be the point? There’s nowhere to run on this island and there’s no way you’ll get off it.’
‘Isn’t that what I already told you?’
‘Sure, but if I have to watch you, I’d rather you were here, sleeping upstairs, than at your apartment with me sleeping on your floor waiting for you to jump out the window at any moment.’
She looked around, taking in the décor. It was a world apart from her humble cabin. The suite oozed luxury, the floor-to-ceiling-length windows drinking in the view. In a break in the cloud, a glimmer of moonlight, there was no missing the shadow of the twin mountains looming ominously over them, while the fronds of the kentia palms provided the musical score, chattering and clapping in the breeze. The wind was rising, but that had been expected given the route of the cyclone passing to the north.
‘I guess it might be a fraction more comfortable.’ She turned to him. ‘Now, about my shift tomorrow evening…’
He shook his head. ‘Not happening. We’re leaving tomorrow.’
‘It’s just one day,’ she pleaded. ‘Twenty-four little hours. Where’s the harm in that?’
