Chapter 29

Dimitri remained quiet as they exited the sculpture garden to make their way back to the main cove. They’d searched the rest of the reef area again on foot, peering out to sea, but nothing else caught their eye, and gradually, the beauty of the day and the brightness of the sun had served to drive their dark moods away. Now they walked back more slowly than they’d come, and Lauren wondered at that. Was Dimitri focusing on his sorrow over Ari’s death? Or was there something else slowing his stride?

Would he miss her?

Grow up.She didn’t have the luxury of worrying about that, yet the thought persisted. In a day, maybe more, maybe less, they’d both be back in their own worlds, fighting their own demons—real or imagined. And maybe she had overreacted. Henry hadn’t done anything intensely crazy in a while. Yes, fine, he’d drawn up marriage documents, but how damning were those, really? The mark of an efficient man, a confident man, maybe. Not a psychopath.

Right?

As they left the shady confines of the jungle, Dimitri angled toward the beach rover. “Need to check in,” he said, and she colored with more embarrassment. That was what he’d been thinking about. The messy business of his emotions done, he wanted to connect with something real, tangible. His work in the ONSF fit that bill nicely.

Demigod or not, Dimitri would always be business first.

Lauren grabbed her purse and wandered off a short distance to watch the fishermen’s return, while Dimitri recovered his phone. A quick check of her cell indicated no signal, but there were also no texts in the queue from her sister, or from anyone. Apparently, Dimitri’s sister wasn’t a big texter. Then again, when you’d spent your life on a tiny island where everyone knew everyone, face-to-face communication suddenly seemed a lot more efficient.

As Dimitri had promised, the boats were coming in to the small port, their nets full of fish, or what she assumed was fish, the weight of them dragging the small craft deep in the water. With as much money as the large fishing conglomerates surely made in this area, it surprised her how many men and women were apparently trying their hand at the trade. Trying and succeeding, from what she could tell. Some of the craft were large and sturdy, meant for deep sea fishing, and their boat names were a mixture of O?rois, Turkish, and Greek.

The dock area exploded into a tightly choreographed burst of activity, and she watched, almost mesmerized, until Dimitri came up beside her.

“So, do you want to become a fisherman?” he asked.

“It looks like way too much work.”

He laughed. “Some would say the same of being cooped up in a high-rise all day long, staring at tiny words and numbers on a computer.”

“Fair enough.” She glanced at him, struck by his smile in the bright sun. He was in his element on this island—probably would be in any place, as long as he could live and work in the sun and surf. “Any news from the mainland? My parents?”

Dimitri sobered. “Apparently, your parents have sided with Smithson in his search for you—not surprising, since, according to Stefan, he is a staunch friend of the family.”

At Henry’s name, it was as if Lauren’s bubble of protection was pricked. She drew herself up, steeling her reserves. “Sided, meaning what?”

Dimitri seemed to be weighing his response, and she rolled her eyes. “I can assure you there is nothing you can tell me about either my parents or Henry that will surprise me. That ship has long since sailed.”

He grimaced. “Stefan and Cyril attempted a brief subterfuge, announcing to your parents that they had a solid lead on your whereabouts but that it should be kept in strictest confidence. The chatter we were monitoring from Smithson’s boat indicated that such confidence included a call straight to him. He was delivering orders to track you down when the royal family reversed the information, saying their lead proved worthless.”

“Does he know you’ve been tracking him?”

Dimitri shifted. “Potentially. Chatter stopped shortly after that. The bug wasn’t discovered, or at least not destroyed, but given the change in conversational flow, it’s no longer considered viable as an information tool.”

She nodded. It was hard to say if Henry knew he’d been tracked, but his natural caution was enough to keep his men quiet if he suspected it was possible. She’d traveled often enough with her parents aboard his yacht to know his men followed him to the letter, out of a combination of fear and respect more than genuine liking. Then again, Smithson paid for the best, and got the best. Liking the man had nothing to do with it.

“What’s the plan, then?” She knew what was coming. They would return her to the fold of her family, with some trumped-up excuse that she’d been hysterical, imperious, demanding, spoiled. Everyone would expect that. She could probably pull that off. In fact, she could definitely pull that off.

Dimitri, however, surprised her. He gestured her toward the bar, and they moved down the walkway. “We have several options,” he said. “If you would prefer to run, I have the authority to assist you in your escape. If you would prefer to confront Smithson on the mainland, we can arrange for a formal dinner with plenty of people around. If you would prefer to play the spoiled socialite, we can make that work as well. It’s whatever approach that you feel you can manage most safely.”

She glanced at him as they entered the cool interior of the bar. “You’d let me choose? What’s in the best interest for the royal family?”

“That’s a movable consideration, as it turns out.” Dimitri signaled for drinks, and they settled at a high table. Lauren’s gaze moved from fisherman to sailor to dock worker and back as people moved through the bar seeking respite from the heat of the day. “You could show up as the spoiled penitent. That is easiest. The confrontation at the palace is also manageable. Flight is the hardest, because it demonstrates our meddling in the affairs of a non-national, but it can also be arranged.”

“Flight would be stupid.” Lauren shook her head. As she considered the issue, she distractedly tracked a well-muscled man in dark, shabby clothes, his sun-bronzed skin a striking counterpoint to his expensive, technical watch. The watch seemed overmatched for his outfit, but he looked like the leader of his little band of men. Probably from one of the larger boats. Her gaze lingered on the brightly polished watch as she considered her options. “A confrontation seems dangerous as well, even an exceedingly polite one. Best that I play the brat who came to her senses, a simpering fool. If I can pull it off, maybe that’ll be the play that ensures Henry loses interest. It’s worth a try.”

Dimitri’s expletive was succinct. “Stefan suggested you would opt for that approach. Very well. With that plan, it’s best to return overnight, after sending messages that you’ve been located and will return tomorrow. We’ll have multiple boats set out from several islands, as well as official vehicles as decoys. With any luck, we’ll get to the palace unnoticed.”

She smiled, following the dark-skinned man as he moved toward the bar to order more drinks for his team. “You seem to be doing that a lot these days. Shuttling Americans under cloak of night.”

“Whatever the job requires.”

Dimitri took a slug of his beer, while Lauren’s gaze narrowed on the sailor. He wasn’t an attractive man, but he looked capable despite his roughness. The watch was the only thing that marked him as acting above his station. It seemed—strange. Not a brand she recognized, but clearly it’d cost serious money.

“Who’s caught your eye so effectively?” Dimitri’s tone was teasing, but as he turned to follow Lauren’s gaze, he stopped.

“That watch…” he murmured.

“Right? Totally too high-end for the guy. I thought so too.”

“It’s not that.” Dimitri set his beer down on the bar, easily, casually. Almost too easily and casually, and Lauren’s nerves pricked to high awareness. “I think I recognize it.” He reached down to his ankle as if he was adjusting his sandal, then sat up again.

Lauren froze. Dimitri was palming his knife.

“If I’m right, it belongs to Ari.”