Page 105 of Savage Obsession

“Yeah. Be there in ten.”

“Both of you?”

“Both of us.”

“Good.” He hangs up without further ceremony.

CHAPTER 26

Julia

Rosa—no, Rosie, I must get used to calling her that—is ashen. She perches on the edge of a sun lounger on the main deck, wringing her hands, her gaze riveted on the entrance road leading into the marina.

“They’ll be here soon. Don’t worry.” I try to reassure her, but she’s beyond help, it seems. “Aleksey phoned from the airport. The flight was on time.”

“He’ll be so angry,” she whispers. “I should never have?—”

“No, you shouldn’t, but you paid heavily for that one mistake. He’s your dad. He loves you. He’ll just be pleased you’re safe.”

“I caused him so much trouble, so much expense. And he’s busy. He has businesses to run, buildings to design. He hasn’t time for… for all of this.”

I doubt that. Her father, apparently one of the most sought-after architects in the north of England, dropped everything at a moment’s notice. On learning that his daughter, missing for two years, had shown up safe and well on the island of Tenerife, he wasted no time in catching a flight out here. He insisted on coming to pick her up personally, even though Baz offered to arrange Rosie’s transport home. No, I’m pretty certain Nathan Darke isn’t holding a grudge.

“What if he?—?”

I lay my hands over hers. “Stop this. It’ll be all right.”

I can tell she’s not convinced, but at least the frantic handwringing has stopped. I’ll settle for that.

“Is that them?” Rosie jumps to her feet at the sight of a dark-grey sedan cruising onto the marina and proceeding soundlessly along the jetty.

It certainly looks like it, but I don’t answer, not until the vehicle glides to a stately halt at the foot of the Firebird gangplank.

“It is. It is them.” Rosie rushes to the top of the steps, ready to charge down there. She hesitates, turns back to me. “I’m scared. It’s been so long. What if?—?”

I drum up a reassuring smile. “He’s come a long way. He wants to see you.” Desperate would probably be a better description.

She takes one, then two hesitant steps down, just as the driver’s door opens and Aleksy gets out. He waves up at us, then moves around to open the rear doors.

A small, slender woman with vivid red hair emerges, shielding her eyes against the sun.

“It’s Eva,” Rosie breathes. “Eva’s come.”

“Eva?”

“My stepmum.’ She takes a couple more steps down. “Oh, and Bella, too.”

A girl of perhaps seventeen or eighteen pops out of the other rear door and moves around to stand beside the red-haired woman.

“My dad? Where’s my dad?” Rosie let’s out a wail. “He’s not here.”

“Wait. Look.”

The front passenger door opens, and a tall, athletic man emerges. Dressed casually for travel in jeans and a black T-shirt, his jet-black hair peppered with a sprinkling of grey ruffling in the gentle breeze, he nevertheless appears to be every inch the powerful businessman Rosie described. He tips back his head and meets Rosie’s anxious gaze.

“Daddy,” she whispers.

“Princess,” he mouths back. Even from this distance there’s no mistaking the glistening in his dark-eyed gaze when he first sets eyes on his daughter. “My princess.”

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