quick check and you’re out of here,’ Victoir growled, but Leo didn’t bother to answer.
She wasn’t asleep. She’d tried hard enough. Home from the hospital, she’d felt weariness envelop her like a dead weight. It was reaction, she’d thought. She’d headed for bed in her over-the-top bedroom but she hadn’t slept.
Victoir had opened the door and checked on her—twice—and that had freaked her out. The man gave her the creeps. She wanted to shove a chair against the door to make her secure but that’d show him he made her nervous. For some reason she didn’t want him to see that.
She was wearing her yoga gear rather than her pyjamas because that made her feel safer—but not much. She’d feigned sleep and he’d gone away.
This whole place was weird, this over-the-top castle, its living quarters a monument to excess, the rest a derelict shambles. Given other circumstances the gothic setting could have entranced her, but now, alone, her head aching, what was on the other side of her bedroom door made her shudder.
She’d thought fleetingly of ringing Martin or Jennifer. If she said she was in trouble she knew they’d be on the next plane. They were good friends and they were sensible. They’d pick her up and bundle her home.
That was what she wanted right now, her friends, her dog, her own bed in her own small cottage. And yet… Somehow the events of the last twenty-four hours had made her feel that leaving was cowardly.
But right now cowardly seemed a good way to describe her. This room seemed almost designed to make her feel insignificant, with its massive size, its vast crimson and gold wall hangings, its casement windows looking almost all the way to Italy.
There was a knock at the door and she clenched her teeth so hard she thought she might break them. At least this time he’d had the decency to knock.
‘Yes?’
‘Anna.’
It wasn’t Victoir. Leo.
Surely she shouldn’t feel relief, but she did. The tension evaporated in such a rush that she couldn’t respond. She lay absolutely still.
‘Anna?’ She must be lying too still, too rigid. There was deep concern in his voice.
Leo…concerned for her…
It made her feel like her world was settling.
She was being dumb, she thought. It was this castle that was unnerving her, this creepy gothic setting, these vast, opulent living areas, this huge bedchamber.
But Leo was here. ‘Come in,’ she called, and finally she allowed herself to open her eyes and look.
Leo.
Not professional Leo either. He’d ditched the white coat. He was wearing faded jeans and a cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbows and the top buttons undone. His hair was tousled, as if he’d been walking in the wind.
Once upon a time she’d thought…she’d dreamed…
No.
‘Hey,’ she said, and summoned a smile—and saw relief wash his face.
He’d been worried. Despite her confusion the thought was comforting.
‘You’re okay?’ he asked, the crease deepening between his eyes. Oh, those eyes…
‘Nothing a good sleep won’t fix.’ She gazed up at him and saw her own weariness reflected. ‘Same for you, I bet. What are you doing here?’
‘Checking up on you. Victoir knocked back the offer of a district nurse.’
‘I don’t need the district nurse.’ She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. ‘How can I need anything in this room?’
‘I guess you don’t,’ he admitted. He gazed around the bedroom. ‘Great setting.’
‘It’s ridiculous,’ she muttered, and decided she needed to be a bit assertive. She needed to sound as if she was in charge of her world again.
‘Really ridiculous,’ she emphasised. ‘Not just one but two—two!—chandeliers. For a bedroom. Ten guest chairs. Two settees and a window seat big enough to seat me, my dogs and a small army of minions—if I wanted minions, which, believe me, I don’t. And this carpet… Who chooses crimson and purple carpet with dragons woven into it? And it’s not even the main bedroom—I gather this was one of Yanni’s guest rooms. Urk.’
‘I guess you could learn to like it,’ he said neutrally, but there was a faint smile behind his eyes. He agreed with her, then. ‘Anna, now I’m here… Headache? Pain level? One to ten, you know the score.’
‘Two,’ she admitted. ‘Nothing an aspirin won’t fix.’
‘Let’s try paracetamol instead,’ he told her. ‘I gather aspirin is what was behind Carla’s bleed. She’s been taking it for arthritis and then bumped her head. On the medicine cabinet, her son says.’
‘Ouch.’ They both knew aspirin could make a small bleed worse. ‘But now…’ She couldn’t keep anxiety from her voice.
‘She’s awake and alert. She’s a bit confused but she knows people, events, and there’s no noticeable physical damage. Her son’s with her. She’s on her way to a full neurological assessment in Italy but she may well be in the clear.’
‘Oh, Leo, that’s wonderful.’
‘It is, isn’t it?’ he said, and smiled and pulled up one of her overstuffed visitor chairs to sit beside her.
Which was discombobulating all on its own.
Leo. Beside her.
Get over it.
‘Where’s Victoir?’ she managed.
‘Do you care?’
‘He’s my…’ She hesitated. ‘Actually, I don’t know what he is. The boss of me? That’s what he’d like to think. I’m a bit over Victoir.’
‘Good for you. Are you going to sign the release so he can build his apartments?’
She stilled.
She hadn’t gone completely to bed. She’d put her head on the mound of glorious pillows and tucked the great crimson coverlet over her. Her yoga gear was pink and purple and covered her nicely.
She wanted more.
She wanted to be in crisp, professional work clothes. She didn’t want to be in a room lit by chandeliers and carpeted with dragons. Most of all, she wanted some sort of protection against this crazy situation, where on one hand she’d inherited power and on the other hand she had no power at all.
‘What’s that got to do with you?’ she asked, and then thought, I sound petty. He must have thought so, too, as his face hardened.
‘Everything. You turn this castle into apartments, you rip the heart out of my people.’
‘Why does that sound like the overstatement of the year?’
‘I’m not exaggerating. The castle takes up almost a quarter of the island. Your grandfather, your uncle and your cousin were appalling rulers but the islanders have accustomed themselves to this life for generations. The people should have risen up long ago but they haven’t. They won’t. And now… Turn the castle into a glorified gated community where the super-rich can fly in and fly out… Maybe there will be an uprising. I almost hope so, but it’ll take years, and meanwhile there’s nothing here. There’s no hope for the kids. This island needs help, Anna, and right now the only help available is from you.’
‘So how could I possibly help?’
‘By