Page 23 of Hostile Extraction

“Yes, that would be better. She’s resting now. We wouldn’t want to disturb her.” Rocco checked his watch. “We really do need to be going before the tide is against us.”

What would the tide matter? She thought that was an odd argument, but she nodded and returned to her room to pack a few things. At least she’d found out who the poor girl was. Nico was such a good man to care for his extended family. She needed to stop worrying. Soon he’d return and they could start finalizing the plans for their wedding.

Asia threw a few things in a bag, grabbed some sunscreen and glasses, then tucked her hair in a ponytail and shoved a wide-brimmed hat on top.

She met Rocco outside at the car, and he tucked her bag in the backseat and opened her door.

Ten minutes later, they were boarding a small skiff. Rocco held her hand, assisting her as she limped on and took a seat. They headed off at a quick pace. The wind tore at her, and she had to hold on to her hat. The scent of the sea hit her with the spray as they cut through the surf.

In no time, they were pulling up next to the yacht. The crew tossed lines to the men and soon they were tied up and she was helped aboard.

“Wow. It’s magnificent,” Asia exclaimed, leaning on her cane. She was surprised how solid the boat felt under her feet, and supposed it was due to its size.

“Welcome aboard, Miss. May I show you to your stateroom?” a mate asked, coming forward to take her bag from Rocco. “Will you be staying aboard, sir?”

“No. I assume you’ve got things well in hand. I have things to tend to back at the estate.”

“Of course, sir.”

“You’ll notify me if any issues should arise?”

They both glanced toward Asia, and she frowned.

The mate cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“Mr. Amorosi should be joining Miss Asia for dinner. Make sure it's prepared to his liking.”

“Very good, sir.”

“I leave you in good hands, ma’am.” Rocco bowed and returned to the waiting skiff.

Asia followed the mate down a narrow flight of stairs and into a salon with comfortable couches running along under huge windows that flooded the room with light. The mate indicated several features.

“There’s a flat screen there, and the bar is fully stocked. Your stateroom is just through here.” He led her down a short, narrow hall to a door.

She stepped inside to find a good-sized bed with elegant gold linens. It was luxury to the extreme.

“Is everything acceptable, Miss?”

“Yes, it’s amazing.”

“I’ll leave you to rest or change.” He set her bag on the bed. “If you’d like, I can have Kristina, our chef, come in and unpack your things for you.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

“Very well, Miss. Dinner is at sundown, but Kristina will bring up a charcuterie board for you to snack on until then. She’ll leave it in the salon with a pitcher of juice.”

“That would be lovely. Thank you.”

He nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

Asia tossed her hat on the bed and moved to the windows, parting the curtain. She saw Rocco speed off in the skiff. Then she smiled and changed into a bikini, wrapping a pareo around her hips. She left the stateroom and went exploring.

She eventually made her way out to the aft deck and found a comfortable chaise. Situating herself, she rested the cane at her side and unwrapped her ankle. The swelling was almost gone, but the purple and yellow bruising looked awful. Perhaps some sun would do it good.

A young woman in white shorts and a navy polo appeared at her side with a drink on a silver tray. Her blonde hair was sleeked back in a ponytail and she had a bright smile. When she spoke, she had a Scandinavian accent.

“I’m Kristina. I’ve brought you some iced lemon water. How are you feeling?” Her eyes scanned Asia’s ankle. “That looks painful.”

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