Lie With Me / Destiny's Hand

4

BY THE TIME we finally reached the Villa Prospero, my initial adrenaline rush at finding the body had faded, and I was beginning to react to the reality of the situation. Telling Roman what had happened had brought all the details vividly to my mind. Since we hadn’t talked on the climb back up to the villa, I’d had time to dwell on them.

A man was dead. And someone had disposed of his body. A bone-deep chill moved through me, and I shivered.

Roman turned to me immediately and took my arm. “Are you all right?”

I nodded. “Just a bit of a delayed reaction, I think.”

“You’re going to have to repeat the whole thing to the police.”

“I can do that.” I squared my shoulders in reaction to the concern I heard in his voice. “I’m a big girl, Roman.”

Miranda was at the registration desk and she looked up with a polite smile when we walked into the lobby. I noted again the combination of neatness and elegance in her appearance.

I knew from Aunt Cass and my father that Miranda was only in her early forties, but she looked even younger. She’d married early to Sandro Kostas, a man her parents had chosen for her so that she would have help running the hotel after they passed away. Kostas had left her a widow three years ago. Before his death, she’d spent most of her time seeing to the cuisine and keeping the books. Sandro had played the host. But it seemed to me as though Miranda was doing well as a hostess—she looked far more assured than she’d been earlier when Mr. Magellan had confronted her.

“Philly?” Her face brightened as she moved toward me and took both of my hands in hers. “Spiro’s daughter. You’re even prettier than your pictures. Welcome, welcome. It’s such a pleasure to have you here. I’m so sorry I didn’t greet you properly when you arrived. Demetria should have told me.”

“Don’t blame her—I told her not to. I wanted to walk on the beach and I ran into a white cat. Did she come back here?”

As she shook her head, a faint frown appeared on Miranda’s forehead. “That might have been Ariel. But I haven’t seen her at all today. She may have gone to look for my son, Alexi.”

Miranda turned to Roman then. “Demetria told me that you know my cousin Philly?”

Roman smiled at her. “I know her very well. I’m her brother Kit Angelis.” He held out a hand, and Miranda grasped it warmly, her face a mixture of surprise and delight.

I simply stood there and stared at him. Later, I would tell myself that my mental state had been approaching shock. That had to have been why I said nothing.

“Welcome! I was only expecting Philly. This is such a wonderful surprise—to have two of Spiro’s children visit.”

I’m sure my mouth was hanging open, but neither of them was paying me any heed. I felt as if I were watching a play.

Roman squeezed Miranda’s hands. “You must forgive me for not calling ahead. But my plans changed at the last minute, and I wanted to surprise my sister. My father and Helena so enjoyed their visit here and I can see why.” He paused to glance around the room. “You have a lovely place.”

I wanted to surprise my sister? Never in my life had I knowingly watched anyone lie so smoothly.

Miranda said something in reply, but I missed it because Roman chose that moment to meet my eyes. There was a challenge in his—almost as if he was daring me to expose his lie. I told myself I had to say something, to put a stop to his little masquerade before it went any further, but my lips just wouldn’t form the words.

He shifted his gaze back to Miranda. “And you’re not to worry. Demetria has already told me that you’re completely booked, but I can bunk in with Philly. All I need is a cot.”

“Of course you’ll stay here,” Miranda said. “And you won’t need a cot. The sofa in the suite converts to a bed. As soon as my son returns, I’ll have him make it up. In the meantime, you must go out to the terrace. I’ll bring you coffee and pastries. We’re through serving lunch, but I can have Demetria fix some sandwiches.”

I finally had my mouth open to say something when Roman preempted me. “Before we sit down, we have to contact the police.”

Miranda turned back at that, surprise and worry in her eyes. “The police?”

“Philly found a dead body on the beach.”

“A dead body?”

Fear flashed into her eyes, and I sensed she might be worried about Alexi. “A man—medium height and stocky. He was wearing a wide-brimmed hat—like the ones you sell in your gift shop—and he was carrying a backpack and binoculars.”

“Does he sound familiar?” Roman asked.

Miranda frowned thoughtfully, then shook her head.“There are so many visitors on the island right now because of the party at the Castello Corli the day after tomorrow. Andre Magellan throws these parties at least twice a year. His guests number in the hundreds. He can accommodate most of them at the Castello—it’s reputed to have close to one hundred guest rooms—but we take the overflow here.” She shifted her gaze to Roman. “How did the man die?”

“We believe he was shot by someone up on the cliff near the Castello,” Roman explained. “Philly was on her way back here when she ran into me. By the time we returned to the beach, the body was gone.”

“Gone?”

“The killer may not have wanted it found,” Roman explained.

“When I first spotted the man, there was someone with him—a younger man he seemed to be arguing with,” I said. “He was about the same height with dark curly hair. My guess is that he’s still in his teens, and he was wearing some kind of medal around his neck.”

Miranda shook her head, but I didn’t miss the slight stiffening of her body. My description had made her think of someone, I was sure of it.

“That was where I first saw the white cat,” I said. “She led me to the body.”

“Ariel,” Miranda breathed and then clasped her hands together. “It must have been Ariel. Her twin brother, Caliban, has been missing for two days. Alexi has been very upset. He and those cats have been inseparable since his father gave them to him. He’s spent the last two days searching along the coastline.” Dropping her hands to her sides, she gave us a flustered glance. “Please forgive me for rambling on. Come out to the terrace. You’ll have something to drink while I call the police.”

Miranda seated us at a table in the shade of some pines and poured us each a glass of pale gold wine before she hurried back to the lobby.

The moment she was out of earshot, Roman said, “Take a sip of that. You’re still looking a little shaky. I have to make a couple of calls.”

I didn’t argue. I was barely able to keep my hand from trembling as I lifted the glass. The wine was cool, but it helped to take the edge off of the chill that was settling over me.

Demetria appeared and set a pot of coffee and a tray of pastries on the table. I smiled and nodded my thanks and then returned my gaze to Roman. He was talking on his cell to a man he called Gianni. Or rather listening. The man on the other end seemed to be doing most of the talking. From what I could gather, they were discussing something about hotels.

Sitting there in the dappled sunlight, Roman was at his ease, the picture of self-containment and confidence. Having him here was helping. This man seated across from me was the Roman I was familiar with—cool, competent.

“I’ll be delayed longer than I originally thought,” Roman said. “A day or two.”

The man who’d told Miranda that he was my brother Kit was a bit of a stranger. So was the man who’d kissed me on the hillside path. There’d been nothing cool about that kiss. I’d tasted a desperation that had matched my own. These new aspects of Roman intrigued me.

At the same time his ability to return to normal mode so quickly annoyed me. He was calmly conducting business while my mind was still spinning. I wasn’t even at the point where I could sort out my thoughts.

And I couldn’t blame it totally on a delayed reaction to finding a dead man on the beach.

I tried to focus by concentrating on one thing. There was the cat, Ariel. I’d sensed a bone-deep, almost frantic, fear in her. Ariel had reminded me a bit of Pretzels, and I wondered if it was part of her nature to react in a very dramatic way. Not that she didn’t have a perfect right to be afraid. It was very possible that she’d seen a man get shot. But she’d been distressed even when the man in the wide-brimmed hat was still alive.

Worry and concern about her brother may very well have been the source of the chaotic emotions I’d first sensed in Ariel. I recalled the image of the white cat lying in darkness. Could that have been Caliban? The picture hadn’t been clear, but it did look as though he was alive and he had a supply of food and water. I wished that Ariel hadn’t disappeared when I’d kissed Roman on the path.

I’d been trying to avoid thinking about that kiss. As lust curled snakelike in my stomach, I reached for my wine and took a long swallow. For a moment I sat there simply studying Roman. He was seated with his back to the marvelous view of the sea beyond. He’d angled his chair slightly so that he wasn’t facing me, and that meant he didn’t notice that I was staring.

I thought of how often I’d dreamed of kissing him. The first fantasies had been the innocent ones of a sixteen-year-old, but as I’d entered college and gained some experience with men, my fantasies had become more detailed. Still, nothing, actual or imagined, had prepared me for the reality of Roman’s callused palms or his clever, demanding mouth. I’d never before felt my will drain so completely away. He could have asked anything of me, and I would have given it. Gladly.

Another moment and we would have made love right there on the path. But he’d pulled away. And then he’d had the nerve to apologize. Again. The anger I’d felt earlier came surging back. I started to sip my wine once more, then decided on coffee instead. I needed to keep a clear head if I was going to deal with the man sitting across from me. And I was going to have to figure out how to deal with him since he’d clearly decided to hang around for the next day or two.

The coffee was strong and bitter, just the way my father brewed it at his restaurant, and it immediately began to counteract the wine I’d had. I decided the question I most needed the answer to was why Roman had told Miranda that he was Kit. Had it been to emphasize to me that he thought of me only as a brother?

I narrowed my eyes on him. Fat chance he was going to get away with that story twice. I was beginning to think that I’d been a fool to believe it the first time he’d told it.

Demetria stepped out onto the terrace and hurried toward our table. “Mrs. Kostas sends her apologies. She’s busy with some of the other guests. She said to tell you that Inspector Ionescu is on his way. Can I get you anything else?”

I smiled at her, assured her that we were fine, and she hurried away again. Through the open doors of the terrace, I could see several guests lined up to talk to Miranda. At least two of the men were wearing hats similar to the one I’d seen on the dead man.

I turned my gaze back to Roman. Maybe I was asking the wrong question. What did it matter why Roman had lied to Miranda? The question I ought to be asking was what was I going to do about the fact that Roman and I were going to be sharing a room?

Roman closed his cell and turned his chair so that he was facing me. “Your cousin lied to us about not knowing the younger man on the beach.”

He was definitely in normal mode, I thought. I quickly gathered my thoughts so that I would appear to be also. “Yes, I agree. I think it might have been Alexi I saw. And she was worried at first that he might be the dead man. Alexi must be in some kind of trouble.” I told Roman about my initial arrival at the Villa Prospero and the scene I’d witnessed between Miranda and Andre Magellan.

Roman poured himself a cup of coffee. “How old is Alexi?”

“Eighteen. According to my father and Helena, he was always a little behind in school. Not retarded, but a little slow developmentally.”

“That might explain his single-minded determination to find his missing cat and the way he’s ignoring Magellan’s warnings and neglecting his duties here.”

I lifted my chin. “I can understand his concern. If Pretzels or Peanuts were missing, I might neglect a few of my duties also.”

“Point taken. What else can you tell me about Alexi?”

“Dad told me that since Miranda’s husband died three years ago, she’s depended on Alexi to help her run the place.”

“He would have been fifteen. That’s a lot of responsibility for a young man.” Roman sipped coffee and leaned back in his chair. “I was a little older than that when I started to take an active role at Oliver Enterprises. After my mother died, my dad…well, he wasn’t himself for a while. I had to take on more responsibility in the company—more than he would have given me under other circumstances.”

“You handled it.” I couldn’t imagine Roman not being able to handle anything.

His lips curved slightly. “Actually, I loved it. Working at Oliver Enterprises, expanding our business has always been my goal. So much so that I didn’t want to go to college. My dad insisted. Good thing or I never would have ended up being Kit’s roommate.” He sipped more coffee. “Alexi may not be as enthusiastic about running this hotel. Miranda must have asked him not to hang around the Castello. He may be acting out a bit in rebellion.”

I studied him. It occurred to me that Roman and I had never sat like this before—just the two of us talking. Thinking about it, I realized that we’d always been with my family or his—except for those two times in his hospital room. It was at that moment that I caught a glimpse of that white bird again spiraling upward in the blue sky above the sea. The same feelings I’d experienced on the cliff path moved through me. And I knew—the same way that I often sensed things with animals—that this was where I was meant to be and that Roman was meant to be here with me. Whatever adventure lay ahead of me on this island, Roman was fated to be a part of it.

“There’s another problem.” Roman paused, then said, “Philly?”

“Sorry.” I gathered my thoughts and met his eyes. “You were saying there’s a problem.”

“Inspector Ionescu may have some trouble investigating a murder with no body. The only evidence we have to show him is that shell casing. The cell phone will help with identification, but it doesn’t prove a homicide.”

“I know what I saw.”

“And I believe you.” Roman topped off the coffee in our cups. “But I’m trying to look at the situation from your brother Nik’s point of view.”

I saw where he was going. Nik would see everything through a cop’s skeptical eyes.

“There’s very little for the police to work with. If you wanted to tell them that you think it might have been your cousin arguing with the man just before he was shot, Alexi could at least corroborate your story about seeing them on the beach.”

“I don’t want to say that yet. I can’t be positive that it was Alexi. I’ve never even met him.”

“Are you worried that Alexi could be the shooter?” Roman asked.

“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “The man arguing with the victim wouldn’t have had time to get all the way up the cliff to where I think the shooter was.”

“Good point.” Roman sipped more coffee, studying me over the rim of his cup.

“It’s too bad that Inspector Ionescu can’t question Ariel.”

Roman’s brows shot up. “The cat?”

I nodded. “She may have witnessed the murder.”

“Could you question her?”

I glanced around. “I’d like to. I’m worried about her. The sniper shot twice at her.”

“Do you think she can tell you who he is?”

I studied him for a moment. It occurred to me that he’d not once questioned anything I’d told him about my communication with Ariel. He seemed to accept my ability to connect with animals with the same ease that my family did. “I don’t know if she saw who it was. If the killing shot came from where the other shots came from, the shooter was too far up the cliff side.”

“But he may have been closer to the beach when he fired that shot.”

I frowned. Neither of us said anything, but that possibility meant that the man we were beginning to believe was Alexi could have shot the older man.

“I’ll ask her the next time I see her.”

“Just how do you do it—communicate with animals, I mean?”

“You’re very accepting of my ability.”

“I’ve listened to Kit brag about you for years. But he’s never shared the specifics of how it works. Do they talk to you?”

“Sometimes I hear actual words in my head. But other times it’s all images and sometimes colors. With Ariel, I saw red.” I clasped my hands tightly in front of me. “It was all that blood on the white sand.” When I’d described what had happened to Roman, I’d summarized my communication with Ariel, but I’d left out most of the specifics. “When I first saw her through my camera lens, I sensed emotions—fear, frustration and a huge sense of urgency. She wanted something and she wasn’t about to be soothed. After the younger man leaned over to pet her, she backed away.”

“Isn’t it odd that she would back away if the younger man was Alexi?”

I thought about it for a moment. Once again talking to Roman was helping me to clarify everything. “She wanted something—help, I think. That was the first thing she said to me when she appeared around the rocks. When I found the body, I assumed she wanted help for him. But I think she was looking for help even before the man in the hat was shot. That’s why she wouldn’t let the younger man pet her for long. She was on a mission.”

“Any ideas about why she ran toward you for help after the man in the hat was killed?”

I hadn’t considered that. “When I first felt a connection with her, the feelings were so intense. Perhaps she sensed me, too. She also sent me an image. I didn’t mention it earlier because it didn’t seem to be connected to the murder. I saw a white cat lying motionless in a dark place.”

“Her brother?”

“That’s what I’m wondering. I have a lot of questions that I think she could answer. And I have a few for Alexi, too.”

“You’re not going to keep out of this, are you?”

I leaned toward him. “How can I? I found that body on the beach. And Ariel asked for help. When she comes back I want to try and find a way to help her.”

Roman was about to say something else, but I held up a hand to stop him. “Look, if you’re going to try to persuade me to leave, you’re wasting your time. From the moment I stepped out of the taxi, I’ve been certain that I’m meant to be here.”

“Fate?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you so sure of that?”

It wasn’t skepticism I heard in his voice. If it had been, I probably would have kept my mouth shut. But the thing I was discovering about Roman was that he was a patient listener, down on the beach and again right now. He was an easy man to talk to. And sometimes truth was the most effective weapon.

Aunt Cass was always saying that the Fates only offered a choice. It was always up to the person to grab on to what was offered.

“I’m sure that Kit has told you that my family has a history of finding their soul mates here in Greece—first my mother and Aunt Cass and most recently my dad. So after you turned down my proposition at the hospital, I decided that I’d try my luck over here. Not that I’m looking for my true love—exactly. I’d settle for a really hot fling. But life is nothing if not ironic. Instead of finding a lover on the beach, I found a dead man.”

When Roman said nothing, I hurried on. “I’m convinced he’s just the beginning of the adventure. I know that the Fates have brought me here, and I’m not going to leave until I find out all that they have in store for me.”

There was a sort of nonplussed expression on Roman’s face that I’d never seen before. It gave me the courage to say, “Now that I’ve bared my soul to you, turnabout’s fair play. Why did you lie to Miranda and tell her you were Kit?”

I WISH THE HELL I knew. Roman had been pondering that very question ever since the lie had slipped so easily out of his mouth. He knew how to guard his tongue. He’d cultivated the skill in countless business negotiations. Still, he’d told Miranda he was Kit without missing a beat.

Why?

The surface answer was easy enough. “I’d already heard from Demetria that they had no rooms available. She offered to get me a room in the nearest village. There’s no way I’m leaving you here alone until this matter is sorted out.”

Her chin lifted in just the way he’d known it would. “I don’t need a big brother. I can handle myself.”

“You weren’t doing so well when I ran into you on the cliff path.”

“That was only because you were there. If you hadn’t been, I would have been fine.”

Roman didn’t doubt that for a moment. Still he was glad that he’d been there. He thought of what she’d looked like right after he’d apologized for kissing her and she’d knocked him flat on his ass. She’d reminded him of Aphrodite—beautiful, powerful and furious. A goddess you wouldn’t want to mess with. And he’d wanted her mindlessly. God help him, he still did.

And that was the other reason he’d lied to Miranda.

But what he said was, “You believe the sniper was shooting at the cat. Who’s to say his next shot wouldn’t have been aimed at you?”