A Tale of Two Cousins (A Papaioannou Novel Book 3) Page 9

  “Maggie, please—” Thyra started to say, obviously trying to placate her cousin, but the other woman would have none of it.

  “Good night,” she said stiffly to Harry and Iakovos. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

  Dmitri wondered with amusement if he was supposed to be wounded by her obvious cut, but rose politely when she hurried off without so much as a backward look at any of them.

  Thyra stood staring at the ground for a few seconds before she made an apologetic gesture at Iakovos and Harry. “I’m mortified by the things my cousin said, and really sorry you had to see that. Things have been a bit dicey between us the last day, and I kind of snapped. I’m very sorry that I lost my temper in front of you.”

  “I’m not sorry in the least,” Harry said, giving Thyra a warm smile. “It was most excellently done. I couldn’t have ranted better.”

  “Oh, God, I did rant, didn’t I?” Thyra said, sitting down suddenly, one hand over her eyes. “In front of everyone.”

  “I forbid you to be embarrassed,” Dmitri told her, giving her shoulder a little squeeze until she uncovered her face and looked up at him. He smiled down into her eyes, the gold of them now dulled. He didn’t like to see them so unhappy. He much preferred it when her eyes were dancing with humor and pleasure. “You did nothing wrong, and Harry and Jake don’t think the worse of you.”

  “I made a scene,” she said in an almost whisper.

  “A righteous one. I enjoyed it greatly.”

  “I hope I’m not the only one who is curious about who this Kardom is, and what the bit about the palace and celebrities are all about,” Harry said.

  “I suppose I owe you an explanation after Maggie acted so rudely,” Thyra said, taking the notebook Dmitri handed her. “Kardom is another cousin, a distant one, but unlike Maggie, he’s from my father’s side. He’s descended from an illegitimate nephew of my great-grandfather, and he’s using that as the basis for having the provisional Beck government name him as the crown prince. He’s also slandering me to whoever he can in an attempt to keep them from recognizing me.”

  “Is there a crown prince now?” Harry asked.

  “Yes. My brother.”

  “That’s kind of mind-blowing,” she admitted, then, looking a little confused, asked, “Wait, where’s Beck? I’ve never heard of it.”

  Thyra briefly explained the history of the country. “The people forming the government feel that the best way to kick-start the economy is through tourism, and they figure if they make a big deal about the royal family being welcomed back to Beck a hundred years after they were booted out, it would get world attention, and tourists would flock to see them.”

  “And you and your brother are the royal family?” Harry looked impressed. “That’s seriously cool.”

  Thyra gave a delicate shrug. “It is and it isn’t. To be honest, I don’t look forward to being on display as the token royalty, assuming, that is, that Beck wants me. But at the same time, it is my family’s role to do just that, and since Chris is really happy in his job, then the responsibility falls to me. Or it would if Kardom wasn’t trying to do everything he can to swing things his way.”

  “Are there no other family members who feel differently about being in the limelight, so to speak?” Iakovos said.

  “There’s just Chris and me,” she said, her expression closed. “We do have a first cousin descended from the legitimate line, but she’s a Buddhist nun, and the last time I talked to her, she wasn’t at all interested in giving that up. Other than her, there is no one else except a handful of people descended from illegitimate lines, and of them, only Kardom has made a push to be recognized. Wow. I really got off topic, didn’t I?”

  “Only because we dragged you there.” Iakovos glanced at his watch. “Was there much more to the interview? If so, I’m afraid I will have to go take my call, and Harry will need to eat before she falls over faint with hunger.”

  “You know me so well,” she said, smiling at him.

  “I can finish later,” Thyra said, putting her notebook into her bag. She didn’t meet Dmitri’s eyes when she added, “If Dmitri doesn’t mind, that is. I have a few more questions, but they can wait, since I know he has plans for tonight.”

  Dmitri bit back the desire to tell her that he’d happily throw over his plans to meet Patricia’s friend, but he reminded himself that he had no cause to be rude to the woman just because his libido wanted to spend more time with Thyra.

  “Potty break! But also, I have an idea. Why don’t you have dinner with me, Thyra, since the men are abandoning us?” Harry allowed Iakovos to help her to her feet, pausing while she waited for Thyra’s response.

  “Oh, uh ...” She glanced at Dmitri for a moment, and he knew she was struggling for an excuse to refuse the invitation. He was just about to intervene when she surprised him. “That sounds wonderful. I love Italian food.”

  “Excellent. I’ll be right back. The baby shifted and I swear she’s sitting right on my bladder.”

  “We have three daughters already,” Iakovos called after her as she hurried into the house. “It’s only fair that you give me another son to balance out all that estrogen.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind going with Harry by yourself?” Dmitri asked Thyra when Iakovos, with a murmured excuse, went off to take his video call.

  “Of course not. You were right—I like her. She says what she thinks.”

  Dmitri was pleased. He wasn’t sure why it was important that Thyra like Harry and Iakovos, but it was. “I’m afraid I have meetings tomorrow morning, but if you’d like to go sailing in the afternoon, I believe I can get away for a bit. If you had any other interview questions for me, I could answer them then.”

  Her face lit up with pleasure. “That sounds like fun. Do you mind if Valentino comes, too?”

  “Not at all. I’ll even treat him to a flotation device.”

  “Oh.” Her expression clouded over for a moment; then she said, “I guess you could keep it on hand for any other cats who sailed with you.”

  “That’s right,” he answered, amused despite himself. “Shall we say two? I will pick Valentino and you up at your hotel. Wear a swimsuit if you want to swim.”

  “Two is fine. Dmitri ...” She bit her lip, and once again, he had to fight to keep from rubbing his thumb across it. “I’m really sorry about Maggie. There’s no excuse for how rude she was to you and your cousin and Harry, but I’m even more ashamed of my own behavior.”

  “Don’t be,” he said, then, unable to stop himself, swore under his breath, “Oh, to hell with it.”

  “To hell with wha—” Her eyes widened when he pulled her forward, his mouth on hers in the kiss that he’d been wanting to give her since he’d seen her sitting so obviously miserable. Her lips were soft and sweet, and when they parted, he took advantage and deepened the kiss, her heat seeming to sear his blood. She moaned into his mouth, her hands going up to tangle in his hair at the same time her hips moved gently against him in a way that ensured he was fully aroused in less than three seconds.

  “That was even better than the last time,” she said when he finally managed to pry himself off her. “I don’t know where you learned to kiss—or rather, from whom—but I really want to thank whoever it was, because man alive, Dmitri.”

  He smiled down into her eyes, now molten with passion, and was on the verge of inviting her back to his apartment, but he’d put off this meeting with Patricia’s friend too many times. Regretfully, he released her and, with a pat on Valentino’s head, said simply, “Two o’clock.”

  “I’ll be there,” she said.

  He left, finding it harder and harder to come up with reasons why he shouldn’t pursue a relationship with her. He’d first thought she was the opposite of everything he wanted, but now he was beginning to see that she not only ticked every box on his desired-companion list; she added several attributes that he hadn’t before thought were important.

  He had a feeling he was getting in
over his head, but there didn’t seem to be much he could do about it, and what was more, he wasn’t absolutely sure he wanted to.

  SIX

  Maggie wasn’t in her room by the time I got back from having Italian food with Harry, or at least she didn’t answer when I knocked at her door. I suspected she was still off at her party, and wondered idly if Kardom was there with her. She hadn’t said he would be, but he had a way of showing up at swanky parties that led me to suspect he’d make a showing.

  “Which brings up the question how he found out I was here in the first place,” I mused aloud to Valentino when we took an evening walk around the block. I discovered that he enjoyed the bedtime walks, his tail held high while he marched along, periodically pausing to sniff a bit of weed poking through a sidewalk, and stopping to allow people to pet him. “He must have maintained contact with Maggie, because there’s no way Chris would have told him where I was, and Maggie’s known for a month. And that’s just a creepy thought, since it means he’s deliberately keeping tabs on me.”

  I had a vague memory of more than a decade before, after I finally managed to get myself away from Kardom, when I told Maggie how emotionally controlling he was. Her response that he was just naturally dominant, and that if I hadn’t been so oppositionally defiant, our relationship would have gone much smoother, still rankled. It occurred to me now that in the years since, she had never supported me whenever I spoke of how much I disliked him. “I wonder if she’s been doing more than just keeping him up to date with my plans.”

  Valentino had no answer for me, or at least none that I didn’t have to wrestle away from him and toss into the trash, lecturing him about the unhealthiness of picking up bits of abandoned food he found on the sidewalk.

  I spent a restless night thinking about Dmitri, wondering how his date was going, and whether he was at that moment with his ideal woman, having wild, steamy sex with her. It wasn’t until the small hours of the morning that I admitted that I might just be falling for him, and that I really wished I had done something to stop him from keeping that date.

  “I’m not that sort of person, though,” I said, flipping my pillow over and sighing heavily, my mind going over yet again how much I wished I had the nerve to simply make a move on a man in whom I was interested.

  Valentino, who was sleeping on my belly, narrowed his eyes in warning at my restlessness.

  By morning, he was annoyed with my sleepless ways, while I was flat-out miserable, my mind full of images of Dmitri laughing with another woman, his almost dimples making her melt the way they did me. I pictured him touching her arm when he helped her from the car, the warm brush of his fingers against her flesh making little fires start deep inside her, just as they did me. Worst of all, I imagined him tumbling her into bed, his hands and mouth busy on her body, stirring the need and want in her to the point where she was thrashing restlessly on the bed, her legs tangled with his, his breath hot on her.

  “This is stupid,” I snarled to myself, and, after giving Valentino his breakfast and cleaning his box, took a few coins from my precious stash of money and marched downstairs to the tiny hotel lobby. “Is it possible to use your phone? It’s a local call, and I can pay for it,” I asked the young man who was watching reception. I vaguely recalled the owner saying he was her brother, helping her out because he’d lost his job at a nearby restaurant.

  He pulled out a cell phone. “Sure. But you have to pay me in pets, not money.”

  I laughed and took his phone while he squatted down, gently scratching Valentino behind his ears. The latter gave him a slitty-eyed look of enjoyment, leaning into his hand, and rubbing his teeth on the man’s fingers.

  I moved a few feet over to the corner of the lobby, one eye on the cat while I dialed Dmitri’s number.

  It rang through to voice mail.

  “Damn.” I thought for a moment, gnawing on my lower lip, thinking about sending him a text message, but it seemed a bit too presumptuous using someone else’s phone for that. Still, Dmitri had said he was going to be in meetings in the morning. ... I sighed and tried the number again. “Hi, it’s Thyra,” I said when the voice mail beep sounded. “I just thought I’d say hello, and how much I enjoyed last night. The interview, that is, not the part where Maggie acted like an ass. Er ... I hope the rest of your evening was pleasant.” But not too pleasant. I hesitated, wanting to ask how the date went, but not sure if he would think that was too invasive or not. “Harry and I had dinner. She had no problem letting me pay for my own meal. Did your date go well? Oh, hell, I didn’t mean to say it right out like that, like I’m being nosy, although I guess I am. I just wondered. How it went, that is. Your date. I hope she was ... nice. Because you’re nice, and if you have to be with someone, it would be nice if she was also nice. Jesus. Now I’m babbling. Also, I’m using the word ‘nice’ too many times. Oh, just ignore me. I’m ... I’m ... gah!”

  I hung up, calling myself an idiot. What sort of woman left a babbling message to a man who she’d spent all night imagining was having sex with another woman?

  “A crazy one, that’s who,” I told myself. After giving the young man—whose name turned out to be Giorgi—back his phone, and chatting with him a bit about how he wanted to go to England and study history there, I managed to pry Valentino away, and took the cat out for a long walk, partially to give him a little exercise but mostly so I could try to get away from my own thoughts. Two hours later, we returned to the hotel hot, sweaty, and exhausted. To my surprise, as soon as I got back to my room, Maggie tapped on the connecting door and opened it, poking her head into the room.

  “Hey, you’re back.”

  “Yes,” I said, getting Valentino a bowl of fresh water. “We went out for a walk.”

  “That cat is so weird. I’ve never known one that likes walks just like it was a dog. Er ... I ... I want to apologize for last night.” She moved partway into the room, her face wary while she watched me splash my face with water. I was red from the sun and exertion. “I don’t know what came over me. I just kind of flipped out, you know?”

  I gave Valentino his water, silent for a few seconds. It was on the tip of my tongue to say that I didn’t know, but decided that wasn’t charitable. Maggie was apologizing, after all—the gracious thing would be to accept it. “I’m sorry things turned out that way, but I didn’t do anything to intentionally ruin your fun or make you angry. I had no idea who Dmitri was until after I told him about my family.”

  “I know. I wish we could have kept up the plan a bit longer, but I guess I’m just not meant to be a princess, huh?” she asked.

  I felt about as low as a slug’s belly. “I’m sorry,” I said again, desperately trying to think of a way to make her happy, but before I could do so, she gave a little wave of her hand.

  “It’s OK. You hungry? I have a peace offering. I was waiting for you to get back, and was just about to dive in because it smells so good.”

  “Starving,” I said, collapsing exhaustedly onto my bed next to Valentino, wondering if she’d gotten something more substantial than her usual makeup offering of coffee and a pastry.

  She came back into my room with a bag and two drink cups. “I think the ice has melted a little, but it still feels cold. Lemonade for you, and iced tea for me.” She handed me a cup, then pulled over the sole chair in the room before spreading out a couple of paper bags of fries, and two gyros. “I got chicken for you, because I know you won’t eat lamb.”

  “Thank you, that looks wonderful,” I said, touched that she’d gone to so much trouble. It made me feel even worse how things had turned out. Maggie, I reminded myself as I stuffed a couple of fries into my mouth, had always envied my title, and now I’d ruined her chance for a little pretend fun. I racked my brain for a way to make it up to her.

  The food was delicious, although the lemonade had suffered in the half hour that she’d evidently waited for me to return. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings by telling her I thought it was off, since she’d gone t
o the trouble of bringing it back to the hotel for me, so I waited until she ran to the bathroom before dumping the half of it that I hadn’t drunk down the sink.

  “How did the interview go after I left?” she asked ten minutes later, when Valentino graciously accepted a tiny bit of chicken I’d saved for him.

  The lack of sleep and the long walk were getting to me, making me yawn before I answered. “It didn’t. He had a date, and I went to dinner with Harry. I’ll be seeing him later today, though, so I can ask him the rest of my questions. What time is it?”

  She pulled out her phone. “A little after noon. You OK? You’ve yawned three times in a row.”

  “Just a bit tired and a little dizzy. I probably spent too much time in the sun. I think there’s time for a nap before I have to meet Dmitri. What are you up to today?”

  She smiled as she put back the chair. “I’m going to see Kardom later. He was at the party I went to last night.”

  “Ha. I knew he’d be there.”

  “We had a great time. There were so many interesting people there, and of course, they were all thrilled to see two royals.”

  “I just hope you didn’t do anything that will get back to Beck,” I said, uncomfortable with the idea of her continuing her impersonation of me, but too tired to work up enough energy to really get upset. “I wouldn’t put it past Kardom to spin our deal to make me look horrible to the Beck ministers.”

  “That’s your opinion. I find him delightful. You look sleepy, so I’ll let you nap. See you later.”

  It seemed to take a huge effort to scoot myself over on the bed so I could lie down, my body feeling oddly heavy. I wondered if that was a sign of heatstroke, but it was too much trouble to make the words go from my brain to my mouth. “Thank you,” I managed to say. “For lunch. Was ... really ... nice ...”