Page 38 of Claimed
They changed and headed out of the woods, but there was no denying that Nicki wasn’t moving as fast. “Youareinjured,” Stefan said as they cleared another stand of underbrush. They were in a shallow ravine behind a row of brightly painted cottages, but they could see a cobblestoned street above. “I should call a car.”
“You should shut up and let me get out of the forest. I’m fine,” Nicki said, her tone unusually tight. “Quit lagging. I need you to stamp down the brush or I’d set the pace.”
He turned back, not fooled by her vocal bravado. Her stride appeared steady, though, and they made it to the street quickly enough. From there, they hiked toward the center of town, and the moment Stefan saw a cab, he hailed it despite Nicki’s protests. She wasn’t limping, but she was…off.
In the cab, she leaned back against the seat, rolling her eyes as they set off. “I’m fine,” she said. “You worry too much.”
“It’s an occupational habit.”
She snorted. “One you’ve honed over a long, long time.”
“So, you should trust my instincts.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
When they reached the hotel, she exited the vehicle with surprising speed and Stefan quirked a glance at her. “You’re better. That was fast.”
“I told you I was okay.” She grimaced down at herself as they stood on the front steps of their hotel. “But I’m not gonna lie. I’m a little gross. We totally just climbed through a garbage dump. You know that, right? Even if it was a really nice one.”
He laughed, gesturing her up the stairs. “I need a shower as well. And I can arrange for our medic to see you.”
“Oh for God’s sake, Stefan!” Nicki stamped ahead of him, clearly recovered, but with a speed that didn’t make sense to him. “I’m fine. I would tell you if I was hurt, and I’m not hurt. I’m good. I stink, but I’m good.”
“Perhaps.” Smiling at her groan, he watched her as she crossed the lobby and punched the elevator button.
When they reached their rooms, he addressed the neatly outfitted guard who stood at attention inside Nicki’s room. “Any issues? Visitors?”
“No sir,” the operative said. “A sleepy day in Alaçati.”
“Good,” Stefan nodded as Nicki moved out of earshot, and focused on his man. The operative’s face had changed subtly.
“Everyone’s back aboard the yacht, sir, and ready for your orders. Tonight?”
“No,” Stefan said. “The official tour isn’t until tomorrow, and if we find anything in our recon, we’ll need to leave quickly. But unless I miss my guess, we’re stable until tomorrow. You find out anything else?”
“We’ve pulled out of the parks and surveyed from a distance. The squatters keep to themselves. They took the money and blankets and supplies, then vanished back wherever they came. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble there.”
“Good.” Stefan glanced back to the door that led to Nicki’s sleeping area. Nicki had already turned the shower on. “I need eyes on the excavation site, as much information as we can get. Security should be light—no more than three men, standard weaponry. If you see anything more involved, notify me immediately.”
The man stepped away and Stefan secured the hotel door, then considered the second closed door between him and Nicki. Something was definitely unsettled about her, and he was determined to find out what.
Twenty-Seven
Nicki closed the door of her bedroom and darted across the room, kicking off her shoes as she went. Two water bottles sat on the dresser, and she grabbed one and tilted it into her mouth. She was being silly. She was drinking enough, she knew she was. Her nerves were on overdrive, was all. She simply needed to relax and stay hydrated.
A short knock sounded at the door. She froze.
“Nicki?” Stefan’s voice was cultured and aristocratic, and currently overlaid with a distinct tone of concern. And she didn’t want him concerned—not about her. Not when they were so close to doing something so cool.
“Yes! Yes, hang on.” She moved quickly over to the doorway. Today’s walk in the woods had been exactly as she’d imagined working with Stefan would be. They were partners, equals, since there weren’t any sophisticates standing around and no one was firing guns. She knew how to hike, and how to read terrain. She knew how to climb, too. He might be a demigod, but she didn’t suck.
The fall into the water had jarred her ankles, but it hadn’t hurt her. Not really. It simply had jammed the leg she’d broken in the damned bike accident four years back, and she’d hadvisions of traction in her head violent enough to make her dizzy. Once the dizziness had started, all the usual freak-out followed—Was she having an incident? Would she be okay? Was this a heart attack of any sort?And of course that kind of thinking invariably kicked up her heart rate. A vicious stupid cycle that she knew better than to?—
She opened the door.
“Hi!” she said brightly. “Sorry, I was getting ready to take a shower.”
Stefan’s expression was solemn. “One of the finest features of this hotel is its suite’s primary bathrooms. They’re four times larger than typical Turkish hotel suites, did you know that?”