Dom hesitated a fraction of a second too long. He knew something. Something he didn’t want to reveal.
“Tell me!” she said fiercely.
“Sarah says you have no family.”
“What?” Her fist bunched, crumpling the cloth she’d forgotten she still held. “Everyone has family.”
“Let me put the goulash on to simmer, and I’ll tell you what I know. But first…” He reached into the bag again and produced a gold-labeled bottle. “I’ll open this and we’ll drink a glass while we talk, yes?”
A vague memory stirred. Something or someone splashing pale gold liquid into crystal snifter. A man? This man? Desperately, she fought to drag the details to the front of her mind.
“What’s in the bottle?”
“A chardonnay from the Badacsony vineyards.”
The fragments shifted, realigned, wouldn’t fit together.
“Not…? Not apple brandy?”
“Pálinka? No,” he said casually. Too casually. “That’s what the duchess and I drank the last time I visited her in New York. You chose not to join us. This is much less potent.”
He retrieved two wineglasses and rummaged in a drawer for an opener. She held up a hand before he poured. “None for me, thanks.”
“Are you sure? It’s light and crisp, one of Hungary’s best whites.”
“I’m not a drinker.” As soon as the words were out, she sensed they were true. “You go ahead. I’m good with water.”
“Then I’ll have water, also.”
With swift efficiency, he poured the goulash into a pot that had seen much better days. Once it was covered and set on low heat, he retrieved a bone for the hound and left him happily gnawing on the mat strategically placed under one of the eaves. Then he added ice to the two wineglasses and filled them with water.
“Let’s take them to the balcony.”
“Balcony,” Natalie discovered when he held aside the drapes on one side of the windows and opened an access door, was a grandiose term for the narrow platform that jutted out from the steep, sloping roof. Banded by a wrought-iron safety rail, it contained two bar chairs and a bistro-style table. Dominic edged past the table and settled in the farther chair.
Natalie had to drag in a deep breath before feeling her way cautiously to the closer chairs. She hitched up and peered nervously at the sheer drop on the other side of the railing.
“You’re sure this is safe?”
“I’m sure. I built it myself.”
Another persona. How many was that now? She had to do a mental recap. Grand Duke. Secret agent. Sex object of kissy-faced Englishwomen and full-bodied butcher’s wives. General handyman and balcony-builder. All those facets to his personality, and hers was as flat and lifeless as a marble slab. More lifeless than she’d realized.
“You said I don’t have any family,” she prompted.
His glance strayed to the magnificence across the river. The slowly setting sun was gilding the turrets and spires and towering dome. The sight held him for several seconds. When it came back to her, Natalie braced herself.
“Sarah ran a background check on you before she hired you. According to her sources, there’s no record of who your parents were or why they abandoned you as an infant. You were raised in a series of foster homes.”
She must have known. On some subconscious level, she must have known. She’d been tossed out like trash. Unwanted. Unwelcome.
“You said a ‘series’ of foster homes. How many? Three? Five?”
“I don’t have a number. I’ll get one if you want.”
“Never mind.” Bitterness layered over the aching emptiness. “The total doesn’t really matter, does it? What does is that in a country with couples desperate to adopt, apparently no one wanted me.”
“You don’t know that. I’m not familiar with adoption laws in the United States. There may have been some legal impediment.”
He played with his glass, his long fingers turning the stem. There was more coming, and she guessed it wouldn’t be good. It wasn’t.
“We also have to take into account the fact that no one appears to have raised an alarm over your whereabouts. The Budapest police, my contacts at Interpol, Sarah and Dev…none of them have received queries or concerns that you may have gone missing.”
“So in addition to no family, I have no friends or acquaintances close enough to worry about me.”
She stared unseeing at the stunning vista of shining river and glittering spires. “What a pathetic life I must lead,” she murmured.
“Perhaps.”
She hadn’t been fishing for a shoulder to cry on, but the less-than-sympathetic response rankled…until it occurred to her that he was holding something back.