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He was also off his game, he admitted to himself as he stepped behind the bar to make martinis. He was hoping another round of drinks would relax his wife and loosen up Gio, but he was probably better off asking the man to head back to the negotiating table.
As the suggestion formed on his lips, his purser arrived with an unfamiliar young woman. She wasn’t part of the crew and reminded him vaguely of someone who might show him to a table at a streetside bistro. She wore a simple cotton blouse over wide-legged pants and mass-made sandals. She held a leather portfolio and her skimming glance locked on Gio where he lounged in the pool.
Gio had mentioned something about bringing two assistants aboard so unrelated work could continue while he negotiated with Rafael. Rafael had assented and forgotten about it.
He would have dismissed the interruption as completely unimportant but his wife hissed with unmistakable enmity, “What are you doing here?”
The poor woman was taken aback and looked like a shopgirl getting a dressing down over not having a requested size in stock.
It wasn’t like Alexandra to be openly rude to anyone except her parents. She typically used honey, not vinegar, especially with staff. Was she still angry that he’d suggested they take a break from trying for a baby, and taking it out on this stranger?
“What’s wrong, Alexandra?” Jacinda said from her position beside Gio in the pool. “Is the help supposed to stay belowstairs? You’re such a snob.”
“Molly is my assistant’s assistant,” Gio said crisply. “What do you need, Molly?”
“Valentina...um...” She waved the portfolio, looking pale at having been put on the spot. “She said you wanted to sign this as soon as it was ready.”
“Your executive assistant has an assistant?” Rafael drawled, trying to defuse the tension that charged the air like electricity. “No wonder it was so difficult to get hold of you to extend this invitation.”
He shot a look at Alexandra. She knew how important Gio was to solidifying the trade and cargo arm of the Zamos Corp.
Alexandra was shoving her arms into her cover-up, pushing her sunglasses onto her nose, and dropping a sun hat over her hair, but her mouth was tight with dismay.
Gio said something and left the pool so Molly could bring the portfolio to him.
Rafael wasn’t really tracking the pair, too busy watching his wife as he finished shaking the martinis, then poured them out. When he took one to Alexandra, she said, “Thank you, my love,” and took a big gulp. A big one.
What the hell was going on?
He glanced toward Molly. She was handing a pen to Gio, her back stiff as a board.
Rafael felt some compassion for her. He’d been on the receiving end of a “you don’t belong here” fugue many times himself.
Gio signed the document and looked to Rafael. “I’d like this in London by morning.”
“Of course.” Rafael nodded at the purser to make it happen.
“I’m very sorry,” Molly murmured, seeming cowed. “I’ll stay below from now on.”
“I was just surprised.” Alexandra was on the defensive, finally catching up to how poorly she was behaving. “I’m usually informed when guests bring staff aboard.”
“You thought we had a stowaway?” Rafael sipped his glass of icy gin, still thinking she was acting grossly out of character.
“What exactly do you do for Gio?” Alexandra asked Molly, finally dredging up the charming woman he was more familiar with, the one who showed everyone polite interest and effortlessly smoothed over social hiccups. She asked about Molly’s duties, then wound up overcompensating by inviting the woman to breakfast. What the hell?
Molly agreed and left. A short while later, Rafael and Gio dressed and retreated to the office, where they continued discussing their potential partnership.
Rafael was still distracted, though. With his business thriving and this deal looking as though it would go through, he should be feeling more confident than ever, but he kept thinking about how the desire for children was eroding his marriage. Alexandra was suffering. He couldn’t ignore that, nor did he know how to fix it. The whole thing filled him with a painful, nagging helplessness—which was the worst feeling in the world for him.
What the hell was he going to do?
Her past was catching up to her. Sasha could hear it like hounds in the distance, yelping and howling as they pursued her.
She hugged her silk kimono against the breeze coming through the open doors to the deck off their stateroom. It wasn’t a cold wind. After growing up in New York and schooling in Switzerland, she rarely allowed herself to suffer anything below a balmy seventy degrees. That’s why she had married a Greek and settled with him in Athens.
That’s why she had persuaded him to sail them south, so she could feel these hot, dry winds off Africa, hoping they would dispel the chill of harsh reality that seemed determined to take residence in her bones.
“I was plan—”
