Chapter 7

Nicki almost swallowed her tongue. Stefan had said, "Very well." Not another "no," not another sneer. She hadn't realized how much she'd been braced for more snubs when silence filled the room.

"We'll leave tomorrow morning. King Jasen, if you can personally reach out to the appropriate officials to communicate our intentions, that will help smooth the way. We'll dock off the coast of Turkey as Kristos suggests, if we can create a credible reason to do so."

"I'm on it," Kristos chimed in, and Nicki smiled. Once again, Stefan seemed so much older to her than Kristos, so much more reserved. Of course, the royal ambassador hadn't been reserved today on the beach, and as the conversation ranged on, she found her mind returning to that scene again. He'd wanted to kiss her, she was certain of it. It wasn't merely to keep her in place. He'd been genuinely startled at the arrival of Cyril and his men, and he wouldn't have been if he'd been running some sort of game.

Right?

The sound of her name brought her back to the conversation.

"Nicki will remain on the boat whenever it's expedient for her to do so. Obviously, in Ala?ati that will prove difficult. We may need hotel rooms—adjoining. With her permission, I'll want a guard inside the doors, not out. No need to draw attention, but I don't trust a city we haven't had a chance to properly scout."

King Jasen spoke up. "With luck you won't have much to do in Ala?ati proper. From what my understanding is, if Ari survived or didn't survive on the island, you'll be able to tell quickly enough. If he took a boat that was actually seaworthy—" a long pause, as if Jasen was trying to collect himself. "He could be anywhere."

"Agreed." Stefan's words were sharp, crisp, a reassuring counterpoint to the king's more hesitant tone. King Jasen had never struck her as weak, but perhaps his strength had been tested too much in the long year of steeling himself against the inevitability of his son's death being proven. Now, with that proof almost at hand, the cracks in his shield were beginning to show.

Stefan seemed to realize that too. With every statement, he grew in confidence, until the fate of the mission became a foregone conclusion. Nicki stole back from the door and retraced her steps to her chambers, her mind churning. What had made Stefan make such an abrupt turnaround regarding her involvement? And did he really mean those terrible things he'd said about her earlier?

Of course he had. She grimaced.

He'd decided she was brash and undisciplined, certainly not one to follow orders, but he was wrong. She'd prove him wrong. She was being given a chance here…and she meant to grab onto it with both hands.

Stefan was wrong about something else too. His comments about her work as an adventure blogger stung more than she'd ever admit. Yes, it was a job for the young and unattached, and yes, that's exactly what she was. But she was damned good at her work as a stringer for several adventure sites and blogs, and her work entertained people all over the world. She was also a good diver and a great windsurfer, and she could certainly be an asset on this journey, however she needed to be.

She could do it. She would do it.

The next day passed in a blur of packing and repacking, with more supplies than they'd ever need. By the time they set off for the open water, it was nearly noon. The sun was high in the sky, the whole world bright and full of promise.

Nicki held onto the railing, staring out to sea. This was happening. She was really going on a meaningful adventure, using her skills and talents for a purpose. No one was telling her no, no one was warning her off.

She was a part of the team!

Within a few minutes, Stefan joined her on the deck, appropriately casual in the same style of loose sweater and trousers she was wearing, suitable for deflecting the wind that picked up as the yacht gained speed.

"You have everything you need in your stateroom?" he asked as she turned toward him. At her nod, he kept going. "Good. We'll dock tonight near Ala?ati, but not quite at our destination. There's a scavenger band we need to question on a nearby island. It shouldn't take long."

"That's where I'll be diving?" She'd overheard part of this plan already and waved off Stefan's lifted brows. "The queen gave me my instructions early. She wanted me to know so that I could get ready. So I wouldn't be caught by surprise."

"It's a popular diving location, yes. Whether you get in the water will depend on what we find and how long we stay there," Stefan said, giving Nicki the distinct impression that he didn't plan for her to get wet the entire boat ride. The sudden inappropriateness of that expression hit her exactly the wrong way, and she giggled.

"Sorry," she said, clearing her throat. "But that's, ah, fine. Whatever you think is best."

That response did make him focus on her, too closely. "Did the queen tell you to say that as well?" he asked, and though the gibe was teasing, she couldn't stop the blush from climbing her cheeks. Since when did she blush this much around…anyone?

"No she didn't." She'd practiced this part, and it was as good a time as any. He needed to know she was willing to follow orders. "But there is something I think you should?—"

"Ambassador Mihal." A man in dress uniform strode up, breaking Nicki's concentration. She blinked as he dropped into rapid O?rois, lulled by the melodic syllables of a language she had no hope of understanding. She'd barely made it through college French—which had the same melody, but that's as far as it went. Stefan started walking as they talked and she turned back to the railing, not wanting to tag along like a little sister. The boat picked up speed as it reached open water and she found her nerves unwinding a notch as the yacht crashed through the waves, her hair spilling loose from its short ponytail to fly in the wind.

"Nicki." Stefan's voice reached her despite the wind and the roar of the engines, and she turned to see him beckoning her closer. When she reached him, the ship's captain or whatever had disappeared. In the lee of the protected hallway, it seemed strangely intimate, and Nicki put her hands up to her hair self-consciously.

When had she started caring about her hair?

"We'll be sailing for several hours, and it occurred to me you probably haven't eaten."

"Oh—I…no." Nicki blinked in surprise. She hadn't thought about something so basic as food in the mad rush to get ready. "I'm sure I can find something."

"I've had something prepared for us. That way, we can continue our discussion." He turned and gestured her through the doorway. "Third door on the left."

Nicki moved down the narrow hallway past formal sitting rooms and paused at the door of a small dining room. Stefan brushed past her smoothly, pushing the door open for her. She entered the elegantly appointed space, feeling completely out of sorts. Her clothes were perfectly right, but she was the foreign object—awkward and at strange angles. A table laden with covered plates and a sparkling water waited for them, and they sat.

"A little quieter here, don't you think?" Stefan asked.

"What? Oh…yes. It is, thank you," Nicki said. She uncovered the plate, but the thought of food on her suddenly queasy stomach was unappealing. Her hands were starting to sweat, and her heart thudded oddly—too hard, too fast. No, she implored herself. Not now.

"I'm sorry, are you all right?"

"Of course," Nicki said quickly, giving him a wide smile. "I'm hungry, I guess. You were more right about that than I realized." She picked up her sparkling water and drank it down, then lifted her sandwich. Her hands were trembling. Food, I need food, that's all. Her nerves were simply jangled because she was suddenly alone with a man whom she'd kissed—twice—a man who currently was, in effect, her boss. A man who was also staring at her with inscrutable eyes, as if he could see into her mind.

Nicki swallowed a bite and stared back at him. "I can follow directions, you know," she blurted. "I'm not going to be a problem."

As soon as she said the words, she winced. He'd never said that to her in person—she'd overheard it.

Stefan knew it, too. His eyes lit with amusement.

"I thought that was you. And now you can tell me how annoyed you are with me."