Page 31 of Claimed
He squeezed her arm. “We’re offered an unparalleled view of the city tonight, and the sun has not yet set. Perhaps we’ll be able to glean something new about the asylum or the ruins.”
“Ambassador Mihal, Miss Clark.” The booming voice of the Turkish tourism secretary interrupted them, and Stefan turned. “Thank you for gracing my humble party this evening.” He and Stefan shook hands, then he turned to Nicki. “As enchanting as I remember you,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips.
“You’re too kind.” True to her role despite the odious man, Nicki’s smile was genuine and her words warm. Nevertheless, a part of her couldn’t deny a thrill of vindication as Stefan stiffened beside her. He suffered the Turkish man’s embrace of Nicki’s hand a moment longer, then spoke up, drawing the man’s attention.
“We had the opportunity to tour the city a bit today after you left us. It is every bit as idyllic as you described it. You’re right, you’ve done much to enhance its natural beauty with the development of its buildings and lands.”
“You see? I wasn’t boasting when I said that Oûros would do well to learn from its neighbors,” Omir said, too loudly. Stefan looked pained and Nicki disengaged herself from his arm and pointed to the buffet table. He nodded, a bit too relieved. As she moved across the room, she wasn’t sure if he simply wanted her to eat, or if he worried about her virtue at the hands of Omir. Either way, his concern touched her in a way that most men’s wouldn’t. It didn’t irritate her—it was simply…nice.
“Snap out of it,” she muttered, pausing at the buffet table. In truth she wasn’t hungry, but having food in her hand would provide her with the needed business for her to blend in with the crowd. She chose fruits and cheese and bits of spiced bread, then headed to the veranda, pausing only to pick up a glass of champagne from a passing server.
The evening was already turning cool, but her excitement and the crush of people made her impervious to temperature as she moved toward the southerly facing veranda.
“Bless all that’s holy—Nicki Clark! That is you.”
She wheeled around and a bear of a man broke free of the crowd. His grin was wide as he strode up to her, and he was only held off from picking her up bodily because her hands were full of food and drink.
“Josef!” Nicki said. “I didn’t think you’d be here until August.” She had competed with Josef and against him in mixed competitions, and he was one of her favorite windsurfers on the circuit. At forty-five, he was old enough to be her father, but he was everything her father wasn’t—active, happy, filled with boundless energy and an optimism that never wavered.
“All the to-do, how could I stay away—especially because we’re getting into training, did you know that? Beginners and improvers up through intermediates. It’s a great setup. You should come and do a story on it—hell, you should come and be a trainer! South Padre Island is a sweet location—never gets cold.”
“Josef, you don’t change,” Nicki laughed. “You in Alaçati long?”
“Here for the week. We’ve got a full slate of students who flew in to experience the best windsurfing in the world. Hey!” His eyes lit up. “One of them said something about video blogs on the place. That’s you, isn’t it? You’re doing your whole adventure reporter thing. It’d be a good time to do a report on us, I’m just saying…”
“I’ll think about it—I’ll think about it!” Nicki laughed, edging toward the low wall of the penthouse veranda when it was vacated by some of the guests. Josef followed her. From here, it was a clear shot over to the southern ridge, and she could easily see the clear-cut trees and construction vehicles, next to a large, ugly cinderblock structure, appearing to be hunched over the mountain.
“What’s that, do you know?” she asked, as casually as she could.
Josef tracked her sight line. “Nothing yet,” he said. “One of my students is a total archaeology freak, went up there the other day. They’re nowhere near opening, but he says it’ll be pretty cool when it’s done. Despite the fact they’re moving too fast to really preserve any of the more delicate artifacts that might be there, according to him.” He shrugged. “That’s what happens when you’re tripping over ruins everywhere you turn around, I guess.”
“I guess so.”
“Hey, you should come out tomorrow!” Josef said, refocusing on her. “They’re doing an expo of trainers, and you could show off your stuff.”
“Except I’m not a trainer.”
“Yet,” he teased. He glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “There’s the maestro himself. I’ll ask him. You got your board with you?”
She stared at him. “Of course I don’t, Josef. I’m here to video the expo, not participate in it.”
“Not a problem, I’ve got plenty! Wait here.” He bounded off with his good cheer, hailing Omir. Nicki winced. So much for keeping a low profile.
“You’ve made a friend.”
Stefan had materialized in front of her.
Twenty-Two
Watching Nicki across the room with the much older man had set off a riot of reactions within Stefan, none of them worth paying attention to but all of them impossible to ignore. Clearly, the two were familiar, and clearly they were not inappropriately entangled. He could tell that by their body language. Yet he’d found a reason to break off his conversation with Omir to come striding over like a jealous boyfriend, and now that he was in front of Nicki, he didn’t have anything specific to say.
What was wrong with him?
“Josef is a well-known windsurfer—a former champion, though he’d never admit it. He’s running a training school.” Nicki’s eyes were alight with interest. “More importantly, he had information about the ruins. Says a student of his went up there, and they’re nowhere near finished, and that the place is closer to a construction zone than an archaeological site. Chances are someone’s cutting corners to get the excavation done before heritage sites learn about it. Which would be a really good reason to use workers who can’t gossip.”
He nodded. “Was he able to get inside?”
“Nope, only check it out from over a fence. But how difficult would it be to get in for someone who probably has hisownruins to exploit in Oûros, the Alaçati of the North?”