“Very straightforward this time. The hotel owns the beach, so we already have it within the wire. It’s been secure since we got here. We’ll take the elevator down to the ground floor. From there, we will proceed through the pool area, which has been cleared. The walk down to the beach is on a boardwalk. It’s a raised platform. The usual checks have been performed. The area is safe.”
Robert ended with that always. The area is safe.
Ele nodded, her hand landing on her stomach as she pulled in a deep breath.
They left the room, Michael joining them in the elevator. The whole way down, Ele fidgeted. The team had tied today, but they were second in their group. She hadn’t seen Tristan since the night after the second game, and getting an in-person view of him from the distance of a stadium box was hardly satisfying. It explained the sweaty palms, the jitters in her stomach.
Exiting the elevator, they followed the path Robert had painted for her earlier. As they crossed over the raised platform of the boardwalk, Ele experienced an errant desire to overtake Michael and leave her security team in the dust. The methodic, slow progress hampered her.
“Easy,” Robert warned quietly.
She shot him a look over her shoulder, not surprised by the way he sensed her impatience, but impressed all the same.
The noise of the party reached them before the sight of it. The low din of conversation, the occasional shout of laughter, the cacophony of celebration. As they reached the edge of the boardwalk, Ele turned to Robert.
Following a wayward impulse, she asked, “The area is safe?”
Robert nodded, slow and deliberate. He knew where this was going, and he intended to keep his feelings about it to himself. She could tell by the lack of expression on his face.
“I want to go”—she swallowed, girding herself to say what she wanted—“alone.”
Robert merely nodded again. Not a blessing, not a condemnation, just an acknowledgment.
“Sight?” he asked, wanting to know if Ele needed her security team’s eyes on her.
Drawing another deep breath, she nodded. “Hear no evil,” she joked, so Robert knew she didn’t want anyone in hearing distance.
Robert fought a grin. “What about departure?”
She wanted to say she would leave with Tristan, but it wasn’t true. She could mingle with everyone at the party, but she couldn’t leave with a particular person. So, she smirked instead. “Cinderella?”
Robert’s teeth tugged on the corner of his lip as he maintained his stoic image. “Don’t make me turn into a pumpkin, Your Highness.”
So, she had until midnight before Robert would come to get her.
Ele was good, but she was defenseless against Robert’s one-liners. So, when she turned back to step down onto the beach, she wore a flirty yellow dress, a jaunty straw hat, and a wide, open smile. The moment wiped the fear and the hesitancy away. She looked out at the assembly in front of her—a stone firepit with curved benches circling it, two large wooden picnic tables laden with food, barrels set up around with drinks floating in ice water, and people. Footballers in casual National Team gear, wives and girlfriends sidled up close to their men, children playing with smaller balls while others sat in the sand, sifting for little treasures. Some older people were intermingled with the groups, probably parents. It struck Ele—belatedly—that it was a family party, and the first trickle of unease dripped down her spine. She glanced about for a familiar face, but she didn’t see Tristan. She turned to go, to step back onto the safety of the boardwalk, when a tiny person crashed into her legs.
Startled, she braced herself. When she regained her balance, she looked down at a dark-haired little girl who was peering up at her with intent.
“Oops,” the girl said before she burst into tears.
Ele didn’t think twice about scooping the child into her arms. She foisted the girl onto her hip and swayed side to side. She remembered slinging a tiny Juliana around when she was little. It made her smile, and the skills she’d garnered from mothering her sister came back to her on instinct.
“Hello,” she said, smiling at the girl. “We have the same color dress on.”
The girl peered at her with huge chocolate eyes. “Yellow is my favorite color.”
Ele thought about just agreeing with her, but she didn’t want to lie. “Mine is green.”
She scrunched up her face like what Ele had said was horrible. Dropping her voice, the girl said, “But that’s the color of boogers.”
Ele struggled not to laugh. With a forced serious expression, she whispered, “Yes, but yellow is the color of wee-wee.”
The child’s hands flew to her mouth, and she stifled her giggle. But her eyes lit up, twinkling with mirth.
“Annalise.”
The child and Ele turned in the direction of the stern voice. Nicolas Ramsey stood a few feet away from them, his hands on his hips.
“You were supposed to be eating your dinner,” he reprimanded lightly.
“But we were talking about colors, Daddy.”
Nicolas, whose eyes were fixed on his child, shook his head, obviously concealing a smile. Then, his gaze shifted to Ele and widened in surprise.
“Your Highness,” he began.
But Ele held up her hand and shook her head. “It’s Ele, please.”
Maybe it was the pleading in her voice or the directness of her stare, but Nicolas sent her an understanding smile. “Ele, I hope she’s not bothering you.”
“Not at all. We’re in the middle of color wars right now. And I happen to think green is winning.”
Annalise cracked up in her arms, her little body shaking with each giggle.
“I’ve obviously missed something here,” Nicolas replied good-naturedly.
With a shrug and a wink, Ele said, “Girl stuff.”
“Fair enough. But someone needs to eat.”
“Can Ele come with me?” Annalise pleaded.
“That’s not up to me,” he said, holding his hands up.
“I’d love to. But I’m not eating anything yellow.”
Annalise howled with laughter, and Nicolas shook his head.
He stepped a little closer. “Are you sure?” he asked Ele.
“Of course.”
He nodded, and the three of them skirted the crowds, heading to a table. Sitting a little off to the side was a boy of about ten and a beautiful, dark-haired woman. She held a plastic wineglass in her hand and absentmindedly ran her other one down the boy’s arm. The woman lifted her head and smiled when she saw Nicolas and Annalise coming toward them.
“You found her.”
“In good hands, apparently,” he said.
There must have been some silent communication between them because when the woman’s eyes landed on Ele’s, the recognition was quietly subtle.
The woman stood, offering her hand. “I’m Katrine.”
Ele shifted Annalise and met the gesture. “Ele.”
Katrine nodded. “Annalise,” she said, holding out her arms, “come eat.”
Annalise’s grip around Ele’s neck tightened.
“It’s fine. I told her we could eat together.” Then, she glanced between the two adults. “If that’s okay.”
“Of course,” Katrine answered sincerely.