what they fed this growing boy for breakfast?
“Hope you like Fruity Bites,” he said.
Skylar didn’t miss a beat. “I love them,” she said, grinning and pouring the milk, which she sincerely hoped wasn’t sour, because God knew how often this motley crew made it to the grocery store.
“Good. It was either that or the leftover pizza from the other night.”
“Take-out pizza? I’d’ve thought people living in a house like this would have a housekeeper and cook or something.”
Another shrug. “We did, but she retired at the beginning of the year. Dad hasn’t found anyone else yet. So let’s just say we’re not gaining a lot of weight around here.”
“Well, that stinks. Oh, hang on. The power’s still out, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. The whole area’s dark. And we haven’t seen sign of repair crews or anything yet—”
“Which means my car is still buried under that monster tree.”
“You got it.”
“What time is it, by the way?”
“Almost two.”
“In the afternoon?”
“Yep.”
“Wow.” She took a bite of cereal, feeling the zing of sugar shoot straight to her brain. “Hey, this is pretty good. I might need another bowl.”
“You got it.”
Nikolas sauntered off toward the door, but she couldn’t let him go without an answer to the question that was burning inside her, refusing to be ignored.
“Where’s, ah, Sandro?”
“Hell if I know. We do better when we stay out of each other’s way.”
O-kay. That didn’t sound good.
“But that reminds me.” Nikolas snapped his fingers and swung back around to the bed. Shoving a hand into his back pocket, he produced a folded piece of ivory stationery and handed it to her. “He wanted me to give you this.”
A note? But where was Sandro? Not that she expected him to continue his vigil over her—of course not!—but she had, inexplicably, gotten used to having him around.
Fighting a sinking feeling of disappointment, she read the note.
Skylar—
Eat. Rest. Read. Use the old set of crutches to go to the bathroom. Behave. Those are orders.
A
P.S. You won’t be getting out of here for another day or two at the earliest. The roads are a mess. Sorry.
Aaaaaaand…that was it. No word about where he was or when he’d be back. The disappointment blossomed.
Disgruntled, she flopped back against the pillows. Now what?
Well, she wasn’t going to mope around in this gloomy sick room, waiting for Mr. Warm and Fuzzy to reappear and bless her with his caustic presence, that was for sure. Some sunshine would do her good.
“Hey,” she said.
Nikolas, who was on the move again and had almost made it to the door, paused, head cocked.
“Could you please open the shades for me?”
“Sure thing.”
He went to work on the cords and she turned back to her cereal, digging into it like a rabid wolverine. It was a good thing she’d had the whole week scheduled off; this way she wouldn’t miss any appointments and make her staff crazy trying to find her. As soon as the cell towers were back online—or maybe the electric would come on first—she’d send a couple texts or emails just to let everyone know—where she was.
“There you go,” Nikolas disappeared out the door. “I’ll get you more cereal.”
“Thanks.” She looked up from her cereal. “I really appreciate— Oh, my God.”
The view outside her huge windows was spectacular. Breathtaking. A stretch of green lawn yielded to a covered pool surrounded by swaying sea grasses that were trimmed, brown and dormant for the winter. More grasses formed a wall, on the other side of which was a debris-strewn stretch of beach that extended farther than her eyes could see. Beyond that was the sparkling ocean, still turbulent after the big storm, but a blinding blue that reflected the day’s clear skies and bright sun.
Light flooded the room, making it so cheerful that she couldn’t believe how last night’s forbidding and dark mausoleum could inhabit anything this warm and
“Hope you like Fruity Bites,” he said.
Skylar didn’t miss a beat. “I love them,” she said, grinning and pouring the milk, which she sincerely hoped wasn’t sour, because God knew how often this motley crew made it to the grocery store.
“Good. It was either that or the leftover pizza from the other night.”
“Take-out pizza? I’d’ve thought people living in a house like this would have a housekeeper and cook or something.”
Another shrug. “We did, but she retired at the beginning of the year. Dad hasn’t found anyone else yet. So let’s just say we’re not gaining a lot of weight around here.”
“Well, that stinks. Oh, hang on. The power’s still out, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. The whole area’s dark. And we haven’t seen sign of repair crews or anything yet—”
“Which means my car is still buried under that monster tree.”
“You got it.”
“What time is it, by the way?”
“Almost two.”
“In the afternoon?”
“Yep.”
“Wow.” She took a bite of cereal, feeling the zing of sugar shoot straight to her brain. “Hey, this is pretty good. I might need another bowl.”
“You got it.”
Nikolas sauntered off toward the door, but she couldn’t let him go without an answer to the question that was burning inside her, refusing to be ignored.
“Where’s, ah, Sandro?”
“Hell if I know. We do better when we stay out of each other’s way.”
O-kay. That didn’t sound good.
“But that reminds me.” Nikolas snapped his fingers and swung back around to the bed. Shoving a hand into his back pocket, he produced a folded piece of ivory stationery and handed it to her. “He wanted me to give you this.”
A note? But where was Sandro? Not that she expected him to continue his vigil over her—of course not!—but she had, inexplicably, gotten used to having him around.
Fighting a sinking feeling of disappointment, she read the note.
Skylar—
Eat. Rest. Read. Use the old set of crutches to go to the bathroom. Behave. Those are orders.
A
P.S. You won’t be getting out of here for another day or two at the earliest. The roads are a mess. Sorry.
Aaaaaaand…that was it. No word about where he was or when he’d be back. The disappointment blossomed.
Disgruntled, she flopped back against the pillows. Now what?
Well, she wasn’t going to mope around in this gloomy sick room, waiting for Mr. Warm and Fuzzy to reappear and bless her with his caustic presence, that was for sure. Some sunshine would do her good.
“Hey,” she said.
Nikolas, who was on the move again and had almost made it to the door, paused, head cocked.
“Could you please open the shades for me?”
“Sure thing.”
He went to work on the cords and she turned back to her cereal, digging into it like a rabid wolverine. It was a good thing she’d had the whole week scheduled off; this way she wouldn’t miss any appointments and make her staff crazy trying to find her. As soon as the cell towers were back online—or maybe the electric would come on first—she’d send a couple texts or emails just to let everyone know—where she was.
“There you go,” Nikolas disappeared out the door. “I’ll get you more cereal.”
“Thanks.” She looked up from her cereal. “I really appreciate— Oh, my God.”
The view outside her huge windows was spectacular. Breathtaking. A stretch of green lawn yielded to a covered pool surrounded by swaying sea grasses that were trimmed, brown and dormant for the winter. More grasses formed a wall, on the other side of which was a debris-strewn stretch of beach that extended farther than her eyes could see. Beyond that was the sparkling ocean, still turbulent after the big storm, but a blinding blue that reflected the day’s clear skies and bright sun.
Light flooded the room, making it so cheerful that she couldn’t believe how last night’s forbidding and dark mausoleum could inhabit anything this warm and
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