“Welcome back, Arizona,” she said in her oddly accented voice. Nada had grown up on the island, but in her late teens, she’d been sent to England. She’d stayed there nearly fifteen years, studying and learning customs of the West. Some women whispered she’d even taken an Englishman as a husband. If that were true, Arizona had never seen any sign of him. When he’d asked about that he’d been told that her husband had wanted to rule her head as well as her heart so she’d cut out his heart and eaten it for dinner.
“That showed him,” Arizona had replied before pointing out that the people of the island weren’t the least bit cannibalistic, and Nada had always frowned on violence of any kind.
True, he’d been told, but it made for a great story.
Nada walked toward him. She was tall and regal. He didn’t know her age, but guessed she had to be close to seventy or eighty. She wore her hair long—to her waist—and there was little gray in the shining black strands.
He bowed to the island princess and offered her a thin gold bracelet as a sign of affection and respect.
“Thank you,” she said. “But did you bring books?”
He grinned. “Two suitcases full. Romances and mysteries.”
Nada smiled at him. “We do like a good bit of death to mix with our love stories,” she admitted. “Come, everyone is waiting.”
He left his luggage by the boat, knowing that it would be placed in his hut for him. As usual, when he walked through the village, only the women came out to greet him. The men were too busy with their chores. Besides, it wasn’t correct for them to speak with strangers. On this island, men were to be seen and not heard. Which reminded him of something.
“I might have a visitor,” he said.
“No, you won’t.” Nada spoke with the confidence of one who often viewed the future and was rarely wrong. She wore a sarong-style garment that trailed onto the ground. Her stride was long and sure.
She glanced at him. “Who did you think might come out to the island?”
“If you know I’m not going to have a visitor, then you should be able to figure that out on your own.”
Her silence was a clear indication of her displeasure at his impertinence.
“I’m sorry,” Arizona said quickly. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I—” What was his excuse? He knew better. “I have a lot on my mind.”
The night moved in quickly as it always did in the tropics. Torches had been lit to illuminate the path. The lush plants crowded around so that he had to push against them as he followed Nada to the ceremonial grounds.
“My father,” he said at last when they stopped in the center of the open area. “We talked before I left California, and he said he would like to visit me.”
“I would make your father welcome,” the high priestess promised.
Arizona bit back a groan. He knew exactly what that meant. “He’s pretty old and he doesn’t get out much.”
Nada flashed him a smile. “I would be very good for him. I would help him forget. When you go back, tell him to come without you.”
Arizona knew better than to ask how she knew his father had anything to forget. Nothing about Nada surprised him. She probably would help his father to forget…if the excitement of the event didn’t kill him first.
As if sensing his exhaustion, Nada kept the welcoming ceremonies brief. As she escorted him to his hut, she didn’t even make the courtesy offer of one of the young women in her court. He was grateful not to have to politely turn down the gift. He had a bad feeling that tonight he couldn’t have thought of anything pleasant to say.
As he stretched out on his cot, he willed himself to sleep. But instead of oblivion, he saw Chloe. Forty-eight hours and half a world later, he realized he should have stayed. Even for a few days. They still had so much to say to each other. There were many things he didn’t understand. If only he’d told her…
Told her what, he asked himself? What was the mysterious message? That he would miss her? That he cared about her? But caring wasn’t love and Chloe deserved more than he had to offer.
He fell asleep still wrestling with the problem and awoke at the first light of dawn, still exhausted and restless. As he rolled over on the cot, he saw Nada sitting in the only chair in the room. For all he knew, she’d been there all night.
“Good morning,” she said.
“If you’ve come to take advantage of me, I’m going to be a disappointment,” he teased.
“I am not your destiny, Arizona Smith.”
There was something strange about her voice. Not just the accent, but also the tone and power. For once he had the feeling he wasn’t speaking to Nada, his friend, but instead Nada, high priestess and ruler of this land. Someone privy to mysteries and secrets he would never know.