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Harrison
“What do you mean he’s not in London?” I growl over the phone. “Where is he?”
After the short, tense conversation with one of my staff—whom I’d instructed to drop in on my brother when he wasn’t answering his phone—I determine Ash’s current location, along with the company he’s still keeping four days after the event.
I’m checked out of my Manhattan hotel and on my way to the airport an hour after the close of the business day. The entire chartered flight over, I stew.
When my plane arrives in Ibiza the next morning, I jump in a car, realizing I haven’t called Natalia or Toro to let them know I’m coming. An omission that catches me when I barge into my house.
Natalia appears over the upstairs railing. “Dios mío! Señor King.”
She gets over her surprise and runs down the stairs.
“I’m fine,” I assure her.
Her concern turns to scorn. “You didn’t call. Toro is out with Barney. I have been working on the gardens.”
“I would very much like to see them. Later.” My jaw clenches. “I need to find my brother and Raegan. I thought they would be here.” I scan my memory for the hotel Ash stayed in last summer. “I’ll be back.”
Halfway to the door, a voice stops me. “No, señor.”
I do a double take because it’s the same tone she used to scold me for eating all the salami before my parents’ friends could arrive for brunch.
I arch a brow at her glowering face and folded arms. “Toro will be back soon, and he will drive you. In the meantime, I will show you the garden.”
* * *
“I hope you will be… kind.” Toro’s gaze meets mine in the rearview mirror.
“I have lots of things to discuss with my brother. None of them are kind.”
Like where the hell he got off asking Raegan out, not to mention thinking he could touch her the way he did.
I knew they were friends, but I always figured their common bond was me. I didn’t expect them to stay connected without me.
I stare out the window, cracking my knuckles.
“Would you like to hear the news of the island?” Toro asks as he deftly navigates the curving roads.
“Fine.”
“Your dog has learned to roll over on command. There is a new hotel in Ibiza Town.” He proceeds to regale me, and I half listen until he says, “Ivanov came to the island early for the season.”
I straighten. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You haven’t been around.”
My teeth grind together. That feels like the damned refrain this week. I’m running a billion-dollar business. I can’t be everywhere at once.
“I’m here now,” I mutter as the car pulls up outside the hotel. I leap out without waiting for my driver to hold the door.
In the lobby, I tell the concierge, “My brother. Sebastian King.”
His eyes widen with fear, and he names the room number. He doesn’t want to piss me off.
I jab the button in the elevator, and when the doors open, I stalk down the hallway and bang on the door. Silence greets me.
They’re probably out.
