Secret Paradise (Kimani Romance) (5 page)

Chapter 6

T
he moment he was gone, Nikki collapsed in a chair and shut her eyes. She’d won round one, and it had been harder than she’d thought, because in truth he did frighten her. Not in a terrifying way, but in an elemental way. It was as if he really could strip her bare and see all her faults and weaknesses and turn them against her. He’d come close by mentioning her past. The fact that her sister had helped her get her first client was still somewhat of a sore spot. Her beautiful sister always got credit when things went well. Nikki didn’t.

She’d been born during the coldest winter, on the longest night of the year. A night so long, some feared the moon had replaced the sun.

Growing up, her sister had been kept inside, looked after by various instructors and attendants, while Nikki had been free to roam. Her parents had loved her but had never really given her much notice. She was always in her sister’s shadow. But everyone near Monica Dupree was cast in her shadow. Thankfully, her kind disposition made you feel welcome in her presence, instead of in competition. So Nikki couldn’t dislike her sister—instead she felt a sense of pride—but their different lives kept them apart. They had lived in the same house growing up but hadn’t shared the same meals, because Monica had a “special” diet that was created to maintain the healthy glow of her skin and hair, while keeping her weight down. Even as they aged, they never went clothes shopping together or to the park or the beach. Monica was treated like a rare heirloom—treasured and guarded.

When Monica met, then married Delong, the distance between them grew wider. The year of silence after Delong’s death still haunted Nikki. She felt guilty that she hadn’t tried harder to rebuild their relationship. Perhaps she would have discovered the danger her sister had been in. She might have tried more to find her. Had part of her been glad that her sister had disappeared from her life? That for a moment she could shine?

In a way she was still in her sister’s shadow, because she wouldn’t have gotten this assignment without her sister’s help, and Lucian knew it. He hadn’t chosen her; he was tolerating her. Once again she was just Monica’s little sister. But she wouldn’t let pride stand in the way. How she got there didn’t matter. She would prove that she had her own light. That she was her own woman. She’d made a lot of mistakes in her past, but this project wouldn’t be one of them.

Nikki would make sure that Lucian knew that. Lucian. She still couldn’t form a complete opinion of him, but she knew one thing: She wanted him to kiss her again, just to make sure that the feel of his lips on hers had been real and not a dream. That the feelings he’d evoked in her hadn’t been her imagination. The cool tycoon who’d just left her seemed nothing like the man she’d met outside: a man with a wet shirt clinging to a muscular chest and strong, impressive arms. He must have worked hard to regain that kind of strength. For a moment she thought of Lucian as the god Hades, king of the underworld and the wealth hidden in the earth, and with his kiss she’d become Persephone, queen of the underworld, his dark hunger becoming hers.

But her fantasy was short-lived. Once he’d known who she really was, all interest disappeared and he’d ripped away any possibility of a tie between them, and just as quickly that god was replaced by a man in an austere gray shirt and dark trousers. Lucian looked like his reputation, but Nikki couldn’t forget that just for a moment she’d met a man who smelled of the sea and the earth, whose lips were both salty and sweet, and how weightless she’d felt in the circle of his arms. She wanted to unmask that man again. With her eyes still closed, Nikki removed Benjamin’s ring and slipped it into her pocket. It wasn’t fair to him to feel this way about another man.

Nikki sighed and opened her eyes and saw a piece of patterned cloth lying against the wall. She walked over and picked it up. It was a beautiful embroidered West African cloth usually used as a head wrap. Why would someone have left it on the floor?

Nikki shrugged and went over to a mirror to try it on. She expertly tied it, remembering an aunt who used to wear her hair this way. Once finished, she smiled at her reflection. It didn’t look like the typical designs one would see an ordinary woman wear. The thin, almost invisible gold thread was not the work of a casual tailor. Wearing the cloth made her feel regal.

“So how long do you have?” a voice said from behind.

Nikki spun around, startled, but Callia seemed equally startled as she stared back at the head wrap Nikki wore. “Where did you get that?” she asked, coming up to her, absently stroking Pauline, who was cradled in her arms, as she did so.

Nikki was surprised to see her alone, considering what Basilio had told her. “Where’s Kay?”

Callia shrugged, looking a little mischievous, as if she’d gotten away with something she shouldn’t have. “So where did you get it?” she asked again.

“I just saw it lying on the floor.” Nikki stared at her reflection again. “It’s beautiful,” she said, touching the patterned cloth. “I’m guessing West African.”

“Ghanaian.” Callia walked up behind her and also stared at her reflection. “I’ve traveled there twice, but—” She stopped. “Do you have African blood?”

“My father’s people hailed from Togo many years ago.”

“That must be it,” Callia said in an odd tone.

Nikki opened her mouth to ask her what she meant, but Callia spun away and sat down on the nearby couch. Like her uncle Lucian, something about her had also changed. Inside the house she seemed older, not as whimsical as she’d been outside. She didn’t appear like a young woman who’d talk about ghosts, and there were shadows in her eyes. Instead she looked like a privileged teenager in an expensive summer dress, with an attractiveness she didn’t know how to use to her advantage. At least not yet.

“So how long will you stay?”

“Ten days.”

“That’s more than most.” Callia pointed to a corner. “There used to be a piano there and a harp. She liked to play the harp. She could play beautifully. Sometimes I still think I hear her play.”

“Who?”

“Alana. Uncle was going to marry her.”

“What happened? Where is she?”

“She’s dead,” Callia said in a bored, matter-of-fact tone. “The walls were cream and there were…”

Nikki didn’t listen to the rest. Lucian had wanted to marry a woman who died? Was that part of the feeling of tragedy and sadness that gripped the house? Suddenly, Nikki knew she couldn’t work with the past; she had to deal with the present. And in order to do so, she had to know more about him.

Nikki removed the head wrap and set it aside. “Can you tell me a little more about your uncle?”

Callia hesitated. “He’s a very private person.”

Nikki smiled. “I don’t need dark secrets. Does he have any hobbies?”

Callia looked up at her with a blank expression.

“Things that he enjoys,” Nikki added, clarifying her question.

“He likes to swim at night down at the beach, near the cove. Alone.”

Nikki waited. “And?”

“And what?”

Nikki sighed, realizing that was all the young woman was willing to reveal. Perhaps if she got to know her more, she would trust her. Nikki sat down next to her. “Pauline is a beautiful kitten.” She looked much better and Nikki could see her fluffy orange-colored fur.

“Thanks for saving her. Do you have pets?”

“No, but my sister has a dog.”

“Dogs are nice, but I prefer cats.”

“Do you like living here?”

“Not anymore.”

Nikki stared at Callia, surprised. “Then why do you stay? You could convince your uncle to let you stay at his other house, or I’m sure you could go to a boarding school or…”

Callia shook her head. “Uncle doesn’t want to be anywhere else right now and I don’t want to leave Uncle Lucian here alone. Someone has to look out for him.” She glanced around the room and lowered her voice to a whisper. “The ghost will get him. She wants him dead.”

Nikki knew the fire had been from arson, but couldn’t understand Callia’s fear of a ghost. “Are they still looking for the arsonist?”

“No. We know who did it. We just don’t know how.”

“Then that person has been arrested, right?” Nikki said, wondering if she should start looking for Kay. Was Callia on any medication to keep her from these delusions? But then again there was a sense of sanity about her. But ghosts didn’t kill, even if one did believe in them. “Your uncle’s safe now.”

“No, she still haunts the place and will get her revenge.”

“Who?”

“Alana.”

“Why?”

“Callia!” a deep voice said.

Callia jumped like a scared child and turned to the door, where Lucian stood in the hallway. “Yes, Uncle Lucian?”

“Kay’s been frantically looking for you. Come here.”

Nikki held up her hand. “As you can see, she’s safe here with me. Kay can join us if she wants to, but we’re having an important conversation right now. You can talk to her when I’m finished.”

“I want to talk to her now.”

Nikki smiled. “Then you’re going to be disappointed.” She pointed at him. “Say one more word and my ten days start tomorrow.”

Lucian narrowed his eyes but didn’t reply and left.

“Now, what were you saying?” Nikki said, annoyed by Lucian’s interruption at such a key point.

Callia stared at her, wide-eyed.

“What?” Nikki wiped her cheek. “Is there something on my face?”

Callia slowly sank back into her seat. “No one has ever spoken to Uncle Lucian like that. I’m surprised he didn’t fire you.”

“He’s thinking about it, I’m sure,” Nikki said in a dry tone.

Callia tilted her head and studied the woman sitting beside her. “You’re different. You’re not afraid of him. Most people are—especially women.”

Basilio strolled in with his hands in his pockets. “What the hell just happened? Lucian’s laughing his head off.”

“Really?” Callia said, amazed. “I wish I could have seen that.”

“He wouldn’t tell me why, though.”

Callia gestured to Nikki. “It’s because of her.”

Basilio looked at Nikki with admiration. “How did you manage that?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Nikki said, unwilling to take credit.

“You should have seen the way she spoke to him, like he was a servant,” Callia said, then imitated Nikki’s response to Lucian’s request.

Basilio burst into laughter.

Nikki shook her head, ashamed. “I wasn’t that bad.”

Callia lifted her nose and took on an affected tone. “If you say one more word, my ten days start tomorrow.”

Basilio laughed harder.

Nikki couldn’t help a grin. She’d been around the Seventh Avenue crowd too long. “I just lost my temper.”

“He has that effect on people,” Basilio said.

“And how do people respond to you?” Nikki asked.

He rested a hand on his chest with false modesty. “People love me.”

“When you’re gone,” Callia added.

“Be quiet, little girl.”

Callia made a face.

Basilio gently yanked her from the couch and took her place next to Nikki.

“Hey!” Callia cried.

He rested his arm along the back of the couch and ignored her. He grinned at Nikki. “How would you like to go out on the yacht tomorrow?”

“I’m not on vacation,” Nikki said, unsure if he was flirting or making a pass. Either way she was enjoying the attention.

“You can work if you want to, but I doubt you will,” he told her.

“It’s lovely being on the water,” Callia said.

Basilio sent her a look. “Who said you’re invited?”

“I’m coming, anyway.”

Before he could argue, Nikki said, “I’d love to.”

He winked. “I’ll see you then,” he said and left.

“You’d better go and find out what your uncle wants,” Nikki said.

Callia sighed, unwilling to leave. “He wants to give me a lecture for escaping from Kay’s watchful eyes.”

“Perhaps if you behave, he’ll discover that you don’t need her anymore.”

“Maybe.” Callia walked to the door, then stopped and turned. “Who do you like more? Basilio or Uncle Lucian?”

“I hardly know them yet,” Nikki said, surprised by the question. “I don’t know.”

“I do,” Callia said in a singsongy voice, then walked away.

Nikki sat back on the couch and sank into deep thought. Here was a strange young girl caught between girlhood and womanhood, living with two very different brothers. It was an odd household. One brother was handsome and refined, while the other one was rugged and rough. Nikki looked down at her bare hand with a stab of guilt, but knowing it was the right choice. She wasn’t ready to settle down yet and her life in New York was beginning to feel far away in more ways than one.

Once he left the room, Basilio let his smile drop. Two weeks wasn’t enough time. He’d have to do more to convince his brother to let Nikki stay. She was the key.

“You shouldn’t frown like that,” the maid, Iona, said, meeting him in the hall. “It makes you look fierce like your brother.”