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Was that why, underneath the easy charm, there was a core of icy steel that made him so inaccessible? Had it been drummed into him from an early age that self-control was the only thing that mattered?
Grace wondered whether it was that very self-control that made it possible for Nico to have his flings without danger of involvement.
Did he ambush his own chances at having a lasting relationship by dating women he knew would always be temporary visitors in his life? While he bided his time for the woman he would eventually marry? A woman who would be happy to take second place to his work and forgive him his inability to form any close bond? Grace mentally wished this poor, hypothetical woman good luck with choosing a life like that.
Shemight have developed an inconvenient crush on her handsome and charismatic boss, but there was no way she could ever be in danger of harbouring any deeper, darker feelings for him because she was smart enough to realise that a guy like him, in the end, was the antithesis of everything she looked for in a for-ever guy.
She averted her eyes and returned her gaze to the splendid vista in front of her. ‘But weren’t you curious to find out what happened to him?’
‘He was sidelined and that was sufficient. Get too bogged down in detail and chances are you never surface. That said, I assumed Sander was involved in a more comprehensive business than it turns out.’ Nico glanced at her and grinned. ‘No idea why, to be honest. Possibly because over the years he supposedly straightened himself out and the hotel, from all accounts, was actually making a decent profit. Now I’m here, I’ve discovered that the hotel is rather more of an...ah...upmarket boarding house and the money lies in the bar adjoining it and a fishing boat business, which has held its own over the years.’
‘What is your role in...um...this? Are you going to dispose of the business?’
‘What else?’ Nico shrugged. ‘It’s of no use to me and I certainly don’t envisage my father wanting anything to do with it. At any rate, that’s where we’ll be staying so I hope you’re not expecting much by way of luxury because if you are, then you’re going to be mightily disappointed.’
Grace returned his stare with sudden amusement. ‘Now who’s misreading who?’ She half smiled. ‘Do you really see me as a snob? I don’t care where we stay. We’re here to do a job and, as you’ve assured me, we won’t be here for longer than a handful of days. I think I’m more than capable of staying in an upmarket boarding house for the duration.’ She stood up and stretched and then waited a few seconds before Nico followed suit. ‘When we get there, what’s the plan? I’m very happy to shower, change and begin work immediately.’
‘I’m sure you are,’ Nico murmured with just the slightest hint of laughter in his voice. ‘You’re certainly dressed for it but no. I think we can start work tomorrow. For the rest of the day? You could always try and relax...’
CHAPTER FIVE
ITBECAMEVERYclear over the next twenty-four hours just how dismissive Nico was of the uncle he had never known.
Naturally, in the process of winding up the hotel and the various business concerns Sander had built over the years, he had had to consult with various members of staff. Any mention of his uncle from any employee was met with polite, stony silence unless it pertained to business. Fond reminiscing was shut down at source. Grace wondered whether Nico was even capable of seeing that or whether his inherited disdain for Sander Doukas ran so deep that he wasn’t aware of his prejudices.
He would begin the process of finding a buyer for the various concerns, he had assured Steve Donnelly, the smiling, affable manager of the hotel who also seemed to fill a number of varied roles, including captain of the small six-boat fishing rental and head of the hotel kitchen. No one would lose their jobs if he could help it but, of course, that wasn’t going to be in his remit. He could only do so much.
Grace thought that if things continued going at the speed they were currently going, then everything would be wrapped up in a couple of days because the nuts and bolts of whatever deals were agreed with potential buyers would be handled by lawyers, who were already on standby.
And several of those potential buyers, Nico had briefed her only an hour ago, had already been found.
Now, sitting here on the wooden veranda of the hotel, waiting for Nico, who was going to be her dinner companion on her first real night here, she remembered her excitement when the plane had begun to descend to Nassau, with a little twinge of sadness.
Her only view of the sea had been in passing, as she had strolled out of the hotel at midday to breathe in the sun and the salt and the heady scent of the tropical blooms that surrounded the hotel.
In the distance a marching army of upright coconut trees was starkly silhouetted against the deep purple, indigo and navy blue of a twilit sky.
The ‘upmarket boarding house’ could not have been lovelier, as far as Grace was concerned. Nico might favour the impersonal opulence of a five-star modern hotel with its cold marble, glass and granite, but, for her, this place was wonderful. It was small, with maybe a dozen rooms at the most, all tiny suites, some of them self-contained and positioned in between coconut trees, others within the main body of the hotel. Each was quirky and different, but all were tropical in flavour, with bamboo and rattan furnishings and paintings by local artists.
There were mosquito nets around the four-poster beds and overhead fans instead of air conditioning and always the sound of the sea, which was accessible on foot, just a ten-minute walk away.
Not that Grace had had the chance to explore yet.
Probably wouldn’t because it was obvious that Nico couldn’t wait to clear off as fast as possible.
The veranda was broad, big enough for clusters of chairs and sofas and little tables. With the business on the brink of being sold, the only visitors were the ones currently wrapping up their stay, so the hotel was only half full.
Bookings had been halted.
Right now, there were a few people further along the veranda, sipping cocktails and chatting in low voices.
Grace was barely aware of them. She was so captivated by the lazy stirring of the coconut trees and the quiet insistent hush of waves gently breaking, ebbing and flowing, that Nico’s voice made her jump and she spun round to see him standing behind her.
He was nursing a drink and in a pair of light-coloured trousers and a black collared polo shirt.
He looked effortlessly and unfairly impressive as he stared down at her, his face unreadable because the light from the hotel was behind him.
‘You’re still in work clothes.’
