There were no interior walls, only a curved, waist-high counter made of glass blocks that partitioned off a kitchen area. The male behind the counter looked at home there. Dark-haired and dark-eyed, he wore a soccer shirt of brilliant red-and-black stripes with some team logo she didn’t recognize emblazoned on one breast. The stretchy fabric molded his broad, muscular shoulders. The wavy glass blocks gave an indistinct view of equally muscular thighs encased in running shorts.
She watched him, her hand now stilled on the dog’s belly, while he flicked the switch on a stainless-steel espresso machine. Almost instantly the machine hissed out thick, black liquid. Her eyes never left him as he filled two cups and rounded the glass-block counter.
When he crossed the huge room, the dog scrambled to sit up at his approach. So did she, tugging the sheet up with her. For some reason she couldn’t quite grasp, she’d slept in her underwear.
He issued an order in a language she didn’t understand. When he repeated it in a firmer voice, the dog jumped off the bed with obvious reluctance.
“How do you feel?”
“I…uh… Okay.”
“Head hurt?”
She tried a tentative neck roll. “I don’t… Ooh!”
Wincing, she fingered the lump at the base of her skull.
“What happened?”
“Best guess is you fell off a bridge or tour boat and hit your head. Want some aspirin?”
“God, yes!”
He handed her one of the cups and crossed to what she guessed was a bathroom tucked under one of the eaves. She used his brief absence to let her gaze sweep the cavernous room again, looking for something, anything familiar.
Panic crawled like tiny ants down her spine when she finally accepted that she was sitting cross-legged on an unmade bed. In a strange apartment. With a hound lolling a few feet away, grinning from ear to ear and looking all too ready to jump back in with her.
Her hands shaking, she lifted the china cup. The rim rattled against her teeth and the froth coated her upper lip as she took a tentative sip.
“Ugh!”
Her first impulse was to spit the incredibly strong espresso back into the cup. Politeness—and the cool, watchful eyes of the bearer of aspirin—forced her to swallow.
“Better take these with water.”
Gratefully, she traded the cup for a glass. She was reaching for the two small white pills in his palm when she suddenly froze. Her heart slamming against her chest, she stared down at the pills.
Oh, God! Had she been drugged? Did he intend to knock her out again?
A faint thread of common sense tried to push through her balled-up nerves. If he wanted to drug her, he could just as easily have put something in her coffee. Still, she pulled her hand back.
“I…I better not. I, uh, may be allergic.”
“You’re not wearing a medical alert bracelet.”
“I’m not wearing much of anything.”
“True.”
He set the pills and her cup on a low bookshelf that doubled as a nightstand. She clutched the water glass, looked at him, at the grinning dog, at the rumpled sheets, back at him. Ants started down her spine again.
“Okay,” she said on a low, shaky breath, “who are you?”
Four
“I’m Dominic. Dominic St. Sebastian. Dom to my friends and family.”
He kept his eyes on her, watching for the tiniest flicker of recognition. If she was faking that blank stare, she was damned good at it.
“I’m Sarah’s cousin,” he added.
Nothing. Not a blink. Not a frown.
“Sarah St. Sebastian Hunter?” He waited a beat, then decided to go for the big guns. “She’s the granddaughter of Charlotte, Grand Duchess of Karlenburgh.”
“Karlenburgh?”
“You were researching a document pertaining to Karlenburgh. One with a special codicil.”
He thought for a moment he’d struck a chord. Her brows drew together, and her lips bunched in an all-too-familiar moue. Then she blew out a breath and scooted to the edge of the bed, pulling the sheet with her.
“I don’t know you, or your cousin, or her grandmother. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get dressed and be on my way.”
“On your way to where?”
That brought her up short.
“I…I don’t know.” She blinked, obviously coming up empty. “Where…? Where am I?”
“Maybe this will help.”
Dom went to the window and drew the drapes. Morning light flooded the loft. With it came the eagle’s-eye view of the Danube and the Parliament’s iconic red dome and forest of spires.
“Ooooh!” Wrapping the sheet around her like a sari, she stepped to the glass wall. “How glorious!”