The right amount of money and a conveniently amoral contact in food services had made it possible for him to smuggle the piece inside, of all things, a hollowed-out pineapple.
Voilà! One tropical fruit basket, delivered to the room of elderly passenger Mr. Craig Peters. Yes, the poor guy who couldn’t get around without the aid of a walker, and was having his last hurrah before he became permanently bedridden. Terribly sweet, he was, always draped in a pale blue cardigan over his plain, white short-sleeved shirts. Shuffling around from one senior activity to another, but mostly playing cards and drinking black coffee.
Craig Peters, the old fart who couldn’t wield so much as a flyswatter if he had wanted to.
The man smiled grimly and stroked the master key card he’d also paid dearly for. He was untraceable—too bad the maids and delivery people were not. They’d have some nasty questions to answer later.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
HELENA WENT BACK toward her room after her shore excursion to Katakolon. She’d walked to her heart’s content, sketched some of the ruins at Olympia and eaten a late lunch.
She returned to the ship feeling refreshed and relaxed in body, if not in mind and spirit. It bothered her more than she wanted to admit that Nick had pokered up after making love to her. He’d retreated to some distant emotional place, far away from her.
He had the uncanny ability to read her emotions, but unless he was seriously provoked, he tended to keep his to himself.
He could be capable of such warmth and humor, and yet at other times be emotionally repressed. A complicated man.
She got off the elevator and took the corridor to her suite. From the moment she opened the door, she knew something was wrong, and it wasn’t just the fruit basket on her dresser.
Her scalp prickled in alarm and the hairs on the nape of her neck rose. There was an energy that didn’t belong there; the room oozed menace from every corner.
She almost ran. But there was nobody inside, as far as she could see. She stood in the doorway, gripping the jamb, and caught a scent that made her ill, a sweetish musk overlaid with cigar smoke.
Helena shivered and backed out of the room, clutching her tote bag to her chest. She snatched the key card out of the lock and hurried down the hallway again, emerging into the sunlight with relief. She took several deep breaths of the warm Mediterranean air, preferring the smell of sea salt to that awful sweet, smoky musk.
“Madam? Are you all right?” A passing steward put a hand on her arm.
Helena blinked at him. “Oh. Yes. Yes, I’m fine. But—if you have a moment, would you mind accompanying me to my suite? I—”
He gave her a strange look.
For God’s sake, did he think she was propositioning him? “I think someone’s been in there,” she finished. “I’m afraid.”
His expression cleared. “Of course, madam. I’m sure everything is fine, but I’ll be happy to check the room for you.”
Out here, in the bright, hot sunshine, she felt like a fool. The Helios deck was dotted with passengers lying on lounge chairs, perched at the bars, talking and laughing in groups.
Honestly, Helena. As if the boogeyman boarded Alexandra’s Dream to pop into your suite. You are beyond silly.
But she walked with the steward back to her door anyway. He slid his master key card into the lock and they entered.
The smell was still there. The first thing she did was open the veranda doors and all the windows to get rid of it. Then, as the ocean breeze cleansed the atmosphere, she began to look around.
Nothing seemed out of place at first. The fruit basket had been sent compliments of Thanasi Kaldis, the hotel manager, which was very thoughtful of him.
She threw open the closet doors, but everything was as she’d left it. She swallowed and moved to the dresser, opening the top drawer. A quick glance told her that someone had pawed through the contents. Dear God. Who would do this?
Helena shoved the drawer shut, since she didn’t want yet another stranger, and a male steward at that, seeing her lingerie.
She told herself that the intruder was probably a crew member, hotel staff, and could have been female. It didn’t bring much comfort. Then she remembered the musky, smoky smell. Male. Definitely male.
The involuntary shudder that racked her body was tinged with hysteria.
“Madam?” The steward eyed her with concern again.
“Someone’s been in here. I’m sure of it. My things have been tampered with.”
“I’ll call security right away. Is anything missing?”
“I don’t think so.” She looked around again, wondering what else this creepy stranger had touched. She went into the bathroom and found all of her cosmetics in disarray, though she didn’t spot anything missing. She backed out, feeling claustrophobic and violated.
The steward hung up her phone and said, “Officer Dayan will be here directly. He is the head of security for the whole ship.”
“Thank you.” Her eyes fell on her portfolio, which she’d left leaning against the desk. It was still there, but it, too, had been moved. Helena hurried toward it, her heart in her throat. Of all the things she’d brought with her, her work meant the most to her.
Everything else could be replaced, but her sketches and notes were, to her, priceless.
She reached for the leather case just as the steward cleared his throat. “Madam, I wouldn’t touch it just yet.” She froze.
“Sorry,” he added. “Security may want to take photographs.”
“But I have to see…” Had he opened it? Moved things around? Taken something? It was horrifying that the intruder had poked through her toiletries and her underwear. Her clothing. But this possibility was the worst of all.
Her soul was laid bare in that portfolio. Set out for anyone to see in swatches of brilliant color, curved and lyrical lines, sweeps of her brushes, ideas of her heart. Those weren’t just costume designs to her. They were living, breathing proof that she was a woman in her own right, not merely the daughter of Elias Stamos, one of the richest men in Greece.
She opened and closed her hands convulsively and tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry.
“Would you care for some water?”
“Yes, please.” She sat in one of the chairs in the breakfast area.
The steward got a bottle from the small refrigerator, opened it and poured her a glass, which she accepted gratefully.
Finally a knock sounded on the door. “Miss Stamos? It’s Gideon Dayan, head of security.”
“Yes, come in.” She explained the situation to the pleasant-looking man with the grim gaze. He surveyed the room, and she had the feeling that he missed nothing, not even the placement of so much as a paperclip.
He dismissed the steward and called in another woman to write details of the report. They would immediately change the key code on her door, and if she liked, they could switch her accommodations.
“No, thank you. I’ll be fine here as long as the key codes are changed.”
“We’ll also run a report on which keys have been used to access this room. That will give us a list of suspects, Miss Stamos.”
“Thank you. You’ve been most helpful, Gideon. I very much appreciate it.” She sighed. “Since your staff will probably be occupying my quarters for the next few hours, I may just go to the spa, if they can accommodate me.”
“I’ll make sure that they do, Miss Stamos. And we will alert you as to when you can come back and make yourself comfortable.”
“SOMEONE WAS IN Helena Stamos’s suite?” On the bridge, Nick stared at Gideon and jumped to his feet. “When? Why? Is she all right? Was anything taken?”
“She’s fine. Nothing appears to be missing, but the intruder clearly went through her things.” Gideon raised his eyebrows. “Her very personal things.”
Nick felt anger heat his cheeks. “You’re joking.”
“No, sir.”
“Ms. Stamos and the steward who accompanied her to her suite both noted th
at a man’s cologne hung in the air.”
Nick’s gut roiled at the thought of some pervert in Helena’s rooms, groping through her belongings. “Have you checked the key codes?”
“Yes. That’s the first thing we did after ascertaining that nothing was stolen. My staff is still examining the room—”
Nick cut him off. “Well, who has been in there?”
“Miss Stamos herself and two staff members. Both are being questioned, but one says she only delivered a fruit basket and the other claims that all she did was clean and tidy the rooms.”
Nick narrowed his eyes, but Gideon continued before he could voice suspicion.
“I think they’re both telling the truth. Neither admitted anyone to the suite—unless someone managed to slip in behind them and hide. The associate who delivered the fruit basket reported that she had an ‘odd feeling’ about the room but thought her imagination was running away with her. She says nobody was in the suite during her delivery, but she, too, noticed the scent of men’s cologne and smoke.”
“Where is Miss Stamos?”
“She’s in the spa, sir. We gave her complimentary treatments for the rest of the afternoon because of this incident. And we’ve apologized profusely.”
“I’ll need to make apologies in person and check on her. Gideon, I know I don’t need to remind you that this is Elias Stamos’s daughter. Of all people to fall victim to a security breach…”
“Yes, sir, I realize the gravity of this issue. I will continue to look into every possibility.”
“If Ms. Stamos is at risk…”
Gideon nodded. “Captain, as you know, we have excellent security on board Alexandra’s Dream, but no program is flawless.”
“Well, make sure nothing like this recurs. Post a guard outside her door if necessary.”
“Will do, sir.”
“Go ahead and give me your status report, Gideon, while you’re here. Anything else of concern?”
The security officer shook his head. “Just the usual. We had a rowdy drunk in the cigar bar. Had to ask him to leave. An argument between two women, also enhanced by alcohol, that led to actual blows and hair-pulling.”
Nick snorted. “Nothing surprises me after this long.”
“No, sir.”
“Gideon, will you check the passenger list for a man named Kostas Manolis?” Nick frowned. “If he appears, I need to know right away. It’s of the utmost importance.”
Gideon nodded. “Of course. Anything else, sir?”
“Change the key codes on the doors of both Ms. Stamos and her niece, Ms. Slater.”
“Already done.”
“Good man. I knew I could count on you.” Nick clapped him on the shoulder, and then the man left.
After leaving the staff captain in charge, Nick made his way to the Jasmine Spa. He shouldn’t intrude on Helena while she was there, but he needed to see her immediately.
He knew that it would make him, a man, very uncomfortable to know that someone had searched his room and touched his things. But for a woman to realize that a strange man had handled her intimate items had to be terrifying.
And who would wish her harm? Who would want to scare her? Nick gritted his teeth and realized that he was in a cold rage. Had this pervert been in there sniffing her panties? Rubbing himself on her clothing?
Nick didn’t want to think about it. His first response was to keep Helena by his side for the rest of the scheduled cruise, to not let her out of his sight. He would book her into his own stateroom so that he could ensure her safety himself.
But that wasn’t practical, and neither was the urge to hunt down the culprit and wring the man’s neck with his bare hands.
Nick forced himself to stay calm. Helena didn’t need to see his worry on top of everything else. He reached the spa, opened the door and addressed the woman at the reception desk. “I know that Miss Stamos is here, Michelle. Is it possible for me to see her at this moment?”
“Let me check, Captain Pappas.” She picked up the phone and punched in a couple of numbers.
While she did so, Nick tried not to think of Helena naked on a massage table, glowing with warm oil. Or nude in a mud bath…or rinsing off suds in a hot, steamy shower.
He shouldn’t be thinking about her in those terms at all. He shouldn’t have taken her to bed. He’d be wise to stay away from her for the remainder of the cruise….
“Captain?” prompted Michelle. “Miss Stamos will see you now.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
HELENA TRIED to find comfort in the lovely foot massage she’d had, and in the fluffy white terry robe in which she huddled. They’d even warmed it for her before she disrobed and slipped it on.
The hot tea with lemon and honey should have soothed her, too. But all she could focus on were the torn drawings and paintings security had found in her portfolio. When they’d alerted her, she’d had it sent up to her, and although she’d dreaded what she might see, the reality was worse.
And why? Why, why, why?
It made no sense. She had no enemies on this ship, to her knowledge. The people closest to her on board were Gemma, Giorgio and Nick. None of them, she was sure, could have done this. Certainly not Gemma—there wasn’t a mean bone in the girl’s body.
Giorgio? She hadn’t been entirely warm toward him, but she’d been civil. She’d put up with his outrageous flirting and innuendo. Had he expected her to fall into bed with him? And then resented the fact that she hadn’t?
She just couldn’t imagine it.
Helena reached for her tea as Michelle called on the intercom. “Miss Stamos? Captain Pappas is here. He wonders if it would be convenient for you to give him a moment of your time?”
The cup rattled in the saucer as Helena set it down. “Of course. Send him back. Thank you.”
Her nail technician gathered her things and left. Moments later the captain stood in the room, hat in hand. “Helena, I came as soon as I heard. Are you all right?”
Her hands clenched the wad of paper in her lap. “I’m fine.”
His gray eyes drilled into hers. “You’re not.”
“All right, then,” she said carefully. “I’m not. But I will be. Is that a better answer?”
“A more honest one, anyway.” He reached for her hand.
She hesitated, then extended her right one, still camouflaging the crumpled paper with her left. He didn’t just squeeze her fingers, he raised them to his lips. And then he gently kissed her forehead, which sent a quiver through her whole body.
“I cannot apologize enough that something like this occurred on my ship.”
“Nick, it’s not your fault.”
“As the captain, the ultimate responsibility for everything on board is mine. This happened under my watch, and I’m not happy about it. I don’t like to see you distressed.”
“I’ll admit that I’m not fond of the idea that someone prowled through my suite, but as I said, I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern.”
They’d reverted to formality again, despite his quick kiss. But perhaps it was better that way.
She dropped her head back against the spa chaise that cradled her body, giving in to weariness and confusion. She held the crumpled ball of paper in her hands as if it were made of crystal and could supply the answers she needed.
His eyes went immediately to it. “What is that?”
“It’s malice,” she said simply. “And I don’t know whose. I’m sorry, Nick, but I’m searching for answers just like everyone else.”
She let him take it from her lap. He carefully unwadded her watercolor of a costume and spread it out on a side table. “It’s beautiful,” he said.
“It was.”
“It still is. You painted this?”
She nodded.
He followed her eyes to the leather portfolio that she couldn’t bear to part with now.
“The prowler,” Helena said, hating the quaver in her voice, “destroyed over half the drawings and paintings and not
es in there. Why, Nick? Why?”
“Helena, I don’t know what to say. I can’t think of a reason for it.”
“It’s so personal, so vengeful and full of hatred. And I don’t know why anyone would hate me enough to do this.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
He reached over and covered her hands with his. They sat for a few moments in silence and she focused only on the warmth and steadiness of his hands on hers, and how much she needed that at the moment.
Finally he stood and looked down at her. “We’ll get to the bottom of it. I promise you.”
“Is it because of my name, Nick?” she wondered. “I suppose half the ship could know who I am.”
He nodded. “Maybe it was just someone looking for jewelry to steal. When he didn’t find any because of the safe, he got hostile. That’s the most likely explanation.”
“Mmm.” She tried to convince herself of this.
“Enjoy the rest of your afternoon here. What’s next?”
“A manicure. A seaweed wrap. And a hot-oil treatment for my hair. It will be an extremely difficult few hours,” she said, trying to inject some levity in her voice.
He smiled. “When you return to your room, ask Michelle to call someone to escort you, all right?”
She nodded.
“And in the meantime, we’ll take a look at the passenger roster, see if anyone with a record pops up.” He walked, hat in hand, to the exit and then looked back at her.
He must have thought she looked forlorn, for he retraced his steps and lifted her chin in one hand. Then he kissed her, thoroughly this time. And while she was still reeling, he left.
NICK WENT BACK to the bridge, checked a few of the sat comm reports and addressed some management issues. But through it all, part of his mind stayed distracted, and not only by Helena.
This was not the first time security had been breached on his ship. A hired assassin had made his way on board during their first cruise, and stolen items had been found stashed in a couple of plants before whoever had put them there could retrieve them. Gideon had increased security measures, but as he had told Nick earlier, there were always those who could find ways around some of the tightest measures, and those who could be bought for the right price. At least Nick had the utmost confidence in the chief of security officer. Gideon Dayan was the best in the industry.
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