Claimed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 3 (28 page)

“They could if they wanted,” Stefan shrugged, as if deciding whether or not to live on a remote Greek isle was an everyday occurrence. “Most of them prefer the community of Miranos. There is a staff who stay onsite, primarily when there are—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. When there are guests on the island.”

More voices sounded behind them, and they turned to see Ari emerge on the deck. Stefan had wanted them already off the boat when Ari saw the dock for the first time, and he observed the prince keenly as Tamas escorted him to the gangplank. Ari appeared happy, animated, and not at all familiar with the location.

Beside her, Stefan tilted his head. “I don’t know anything about memory loss or the effect of a concussion on the brain. He doesn’t appear to be damaged otherwise, but…it’s impossible to tell.”

“He doesn’t recognize anything, but he’s not upset about that,” Nicki said. “That has to help, right?”

“One would hope. We’ve arranged for three different specialists to examine him, once we have the island equipped with the proper scanning devices.”

Nicki blinked. “You’re shipping a cat scan machine
here
? To the family’s pleasure island?”

“There’s a fully outfitted medical facility here, and for the immediate future, the family would prefer not to let Ari’s condition to be revealed to anyone. Garronia is a small country, but our media is persistent. Especially when it comes to the royal family. In the end, the cost of shipping equipment and personnel is far less onerous than enduring a twenty-four-seven newsreel on the health of the crown prince.”

“Fair enough.” Nicki let her smile broaden as Ari joined them on the dock. He stared around in appreciation, then grinned at Stefan.

“You have friends in high places, Stefan,” he said. “I am not about to believe I do. What is this place?”

“Private island—Asteri,” Stefan said, watching Ari with deceptive ease. “How much do you remember of the Aegean?”

“Standing here right now? Not a damned thing.” Ari shook his head ruefully. “I know my name, that I was flying on a job—but not for who. I think I know how to pilot a plane, but I wouldn’t want to get behind the controls unassisted anytime soon.”

Nicki laughed. “Well, then at least your brain isn’t impaired.”

They turned toward the main drive as a car cruised to a stop and Stefan started walking. Ari and Nicki followed behind him, and Nicki had to force herself not to catalog Ari’s every move. It’s not as if she knew what she was looking for. Ari could start quacking like a duck and she wouldn’t know if that actually meant anything.

“Who will we be meeting?” Ari asked, a note of apprehension creeping into his voice. “I assume—my family?”

“Not at first,” Stefan said, and Nicki didn’t miss the flash of relief on Ari’s face. “I’m afraid you’ll have to go through a battery of medical tests before anything else.”

“Here?” Ari asked doubtfully. “This looks like a resort island.”

Nicki snorted. “Once again, nothing wrong with your mind. But yeah, here. As it turns out, doctors don’t seem to have an issue with house calls to islands. I can’t say I blame them.”

They piled into the SUV and Nicki peered at the driver, disappointed it wasn’t Dimitri Korba. But then, she supposed that made sense. Dimitri was Ari’s best friend. Chances were good that seeing him would trigger some sort of memory event, and until they understood where Ari was in the recovery process, it made sense to go slow.

Conversation continued as the SUV wound its way through the lush forest, clearly heading uphill. “I have a feeling we’re going to have one hell of a view when we’re done, aren’t we,” Nicki asked, and Stefan’s glance was amused.

“It’s a favorable one,” he said.

“And beaches too, I suspect? But a long way down.” Ari peered out at the heavy forest but showed no sign of familiarity with the place.

“There is a beach below the main house, but it’s a fair distance—there’s an access road to it and I believe a zip line now.”

Nicki turned to stare at Stefan. “A…zip line?”

He smiled back at her, lifting his brows, but at that moment the trees gave way and they rolled into the bright sunshine once more. The lawn spread before them and Nicki’s eyes bugged out as she took in the royal family’s compound—a large white villa with several tiers, and multiple additional villas and buildings scattered over the grass. The Mediterranean sun reflected off no fewer than three pools that she could see, and fountains lined the crisp white stone walkways.

“Wow,” Nicki breathed, but when Ari didn’t respond beside her, she turned to glance at him. Stefan had turned as well from the passenger seat.

Casually, he asked the prince, “Ryker? Are you okay?”

“What? Oh—yes. Yes, of course.” Still, Ari sat forward as they approached the building compound. “I remember seeing this place—I’m sure of it. Not from the ground though.” He frowned, glancing upward. “I must have flown over this section of the island at some point. That’s possible isn’t it?”

“Eminently possible,” Stefan said crisply. “I’d be surprised if you hadn’t, really. It’s not on the commercial airlines flight path, but for smaller craft it’s completely reasonable.” He turned back forward as the vehicle rolled to a stop. “We’ll be staying in the main house, if that’s acceptable.” Without waiting for a response, he continued. “We’ll have a medical team here as quickly as possible, tomorrow morning I expect.”

Ari swung out of the car, then eyed Stefan with the first hint of doubt. “I really don’t want to put you to all this trouble. I—if I have a family, a life, I should be getting back to it.”

“It’s a precaution for everyone.” Stefan lifted a hand. “Nicki and I are getting full medical workups tomorrow as well, so we’re stuck here anyway. You of course are not obligated to be examined, but if you wanted to rule out any physiological reasons for your amnesia, it would be best.”

Ari’s smile was wry. “As in perhaps my skull got cracked in the wreck? Probably not a bad idea.” He shook his head. “I don’t remember a hell of a lot before they picked me up in the nature preserve. And what I had remembered—it’s gone now. That happened a few months back, the memories of the time immediately after the crash fading away.”

Stefan froze, but he kept his voice calm enough. “You’ve lost other memories?”

“No—I don’t think so. Only that period between the wreck and the park. I…I don’t know. I could have been drunk, hurt worse than I thought—high on something, I don’t know. I picked up food and a boat but otherwise…it’s simply sort of faded.”

Stefan looked like he wanted to say something more, but instead gestured them all into the house. A group of smiling men and women greeted them, all dressed in casual uniforms—shifts or pants sets for the women, khakis and polos for the men. Stefan waved Ari along. “We’ll serve a late dinner on the veranda, if you’ll join us?”

Ari snorted. “I’ll check my schedule.” He gave them a jaunty salute, then ambled off down the hallway. The rest of the house remained as still as a tomb.

Stefan turned toward her. “Brace yourself,” he murmured. “The family is waiting for us in the sitting room. We’ve been monitored since we boarded the SUV.”

Stefan entered the room first, but Nicki was right behind him, and he had the sense of the two of them presenting a united front. It was an odd but welcome feeling—and it vanished the minute they cleared the door.

“Your updated report, Stefan,” Cyril began, but before he could fully get the words out, Queen Catherine strode forward.

“He’s so thin!” she exclaimed. “You didn’t tell us that he’d suffered—what happened to him? Where was he and who was holding him?”

“Catherine—” the king’s voice cut across his wife’s but he stepped forward as well as she turned on him.

“Did you know? Am I the only one in this family who isn’t being kept in the loop—”

The two other men in the room remained silent but it was clear they were bursting with questions as well. Kristos about his brother, Dimitri his best friend. But they were too well trained to interrupt when Cyril had given him a direct command, and too polite to shush the queen.

“Your highnesses, sir,” Stefan said, nodding in turn to the royal parents and then Cyril. “As you could no doubt see, Ari is physically healthy—and yes, thin.” He lifted a hand again as the queen fought to maintain silence. “He survived the aircraft crash and came ashore a small barrier island off the coast of Turkey, in a confused and disoriented state. He was apparently uninjured other than having no recollection of anything beyond his name—he did not know his nationality, his purpose for being in the plane other than for, as he termed it, a “reconnaissance mission,” and he had no memory of his family, friends, associates. He approached a scavenger and traded debris from the plane he had recovered for a boat and supplies to get him to mainland Turkey. He landed in a nature preserve, and made some contact with the squatters there, again making trades for supplies. The city of Alaçati was at the time conscripting vagrants and drunks for work crews. They picked up Ari as part of this effort.”

The queen hissed, but said nothing as Stefan continued. “For the next eleven months, Ari worked on construction detail for the city of Alaçati, and was kept in a holding pen with other men at night. He endured the trial remarkably well, it appears.” Stefan made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “A medical analysis will provide better information on how well.”

The queen stood rigid in Jasen’s grasp, but it was Cyril who spoke next, his words crisp and controlled. “The last of the medical team will be in place tomorrow morning. Depending on what they find, we will transport Ari to a clinic in Zurich for further evaluation. We appear to have slipped the bonds of media notice for the moment, so moving him quickly will be of paramount importance, if that is judged to be the safest course for him.”

The queen nodded. “When can we see him, then?” she demanded. “It will obviously take time for him to recover, but perhaps if he saw one of us…” she shook her head, discarding the idea as quickly as she had it. “I guess that’s something we simply won’t know until he gets evaluated. Who do you have coming in?”

Cyril gave her the names of the specialists, then detailed the equipment being transported as well.

She frowned. “What about Francesca Simmons? I thought we’d agreed she would be part of the evaluation team.”

Stefan’s brows shot up and Cyril grimaced. “Your highness, we discussed this.”

“Don’t ‘your highness’ me. We discussed this and you agreed to think about it. We’ve not shared another word and I continue to think it’s a good idea.” She swiveled to Stefan as both Kristos and Dimitri exchanged a glance. Apparently, the queen had been quite vocal about the idea, and not only to Cyril.

“Fran has had multiple interactions with US servicemen recovering from PTSD endured after military-related traumas. She’s written her thesis on it. I’ve read it. It’s quite good. She should be part of the evaluation team.”

King Jasen sighed. “We have some of the best neurosurgeons in the world on that team. They are more than equipped to do their job.”

“But they haven’t been working with soldiers.”

“And Ari is not a soldier.” Jasen’s voice was terse, but stopped shy of a snap. “He’s a pilot, at most, locked in his current delusion.”

“A pilot whose plane
crashed
, and who then was
imprisoned
without recourse, and made to work in a
camp
for nearly a year, Jasen. All of which sounds fairly warlike to me, regardless of whether or not everyone lined up in uniforms against each other.” She shifted her glare again to Cyril. “Tell me, are any of the neurosurgeons you’ve called in who are under the age of fifty?”

The advisor frowned. “I fail to see what their age has to do with anything.”

“Ari is a twenty-six-year-old male, Cyril. Stop being so dense! A woman with actual skilled training in working with traumatized soldiers might be someone he’s willing to endure fare more easily than a fifty-year-old pinhead in a white coat.”

Jasen winced. “I’m sure no one would describe these doctors as pinheads.”

“I suspect I would. Ari certainly would.” She turned her glare on Kristos and Dimitri. “Wouldn’t he?”

Both men spread their hands, but it was Dimitri who spoke. “There’s no way to tell how he will react, your highness. The man who walked away from that plane is not the same man who went up in it.” He hesitated. “But Ari certainly had a healthy appreciation for beautiful women.”

Kristos snorted and Stefan tightened his jaw as Cyril’s irritation broke. “We are not setting these people up on a
date
,” he protested. “Ari is potentially in a very suggestible and fragile state. We must proceed with caution, following the guidance set forth by the medical professionals we are sparing no expense to bring to Asteri.”

“Exactly!” The queen’s response was almost defiant, and Stefan suspected he wasn’t alone in feeling like they’d lost some ground, somehow. “If the medical professionals agree that having Francesca here—a trained counselor who will serve in a non-official role as simply another connection point for Ari—if they agree that she is a better solution to help Ari find his way back to himself, then we will go that route. I could not agree more, Cyril. Thank you.”