The Prince Next Door. Sue Civil-Brown

one outside his door, Serena thought. She wished she had the nerve to ask him about it. Then it struck her that she did. “I was concerned about that man who let himself into your apartment yesterday. I’m glad it was all right.”

      Darius shook his head. “As it happens, it was merely a nuisance.”

      “But…you say you’ve met thugs. Why didn’t you let me call the police?”

      There, it was out, the question that had been plaguing her.

      He tilted his head, studying her, as if reading her mind. “Sometimes unsavory characters merely want to sell me a painting. Other times…well, I know how to deal with them.”

      “Oh!” Ariel exclaimed, looking as thrilled as any teen faced with her idol. “Do you carry a gun?”

      For an instant he looked shocked. “Never!” he said firmly. “Not ever. I realize you Americans depend on them, but I was raised in a different culture. I tend to believe that guns only elicit greater violence.”

      Serena heartily agreed with him on that point, and felt herself thinking she might actually be able to like this man. How unfortunate, when he was probably just feeding her a pack of lies. Very good lies, but lies, nonetheless. Lies that could provide an excuse for all the unsavory characters that might come to his door.

      Hmmm.

      The evening light that poured through the sliding glass doors began to grow golden. The glow it cast through the living-dining areas was almost surreal, as if the room were under a spell.

      “I wish,” Darius said unexpectedly, “that I had an ounce of artistic talent.”

      “Why’s that?” Ariel asked.

      “I’d love to be able to capture this light.”

      “Did you want to be an artist when you were little?”

      He nodded. “I most certainly did. I grew up surrounded by fine art, and was given every opportunity and a lot of very expensive lessons. Nothing helped. I can identify masterworks, but I’ll never paint one.” Then he laughed. “Oh, well. At least I spend my life looking at the things I love most. Not many can say that.”

      Serena was beginning to believe him. She didn’t want to believe him. It would ruin her entire vacation, not to have a criminal living next door. Nonetheless, her suspicions were falling away like dead leaves. If this man wasn’t exactly what he said he was, then he deserved every acting award in the universe.

      But still nagging at her was that threatening statement: We have your mother.

      AFTER DINNER they moved out onto her balcony to watch the sun set over the water. Serena served Tia Maria in liqueur glasses along with Blue Mountain coffee. Between that, the wine they’d had with dinner, and the soothing glow of the sunset, Serena felt…delightfully buzzed.

      The evening breeze was just warm enough to be delightful. The passing of the storm had left the air surprisingly dry, creating the kind of evening that made Serena want to close her eyes, let her head fall back and feel her hair toss gently.

      “I love the wind,” she said impulsively. “Gentle or fierce, it always gives me such a feeling of freedom.”

      “I love it, too,” Ariel said. “It makes me feel as if I could fly.”

      Darius said nothing. Curious, Serena turned to him. He appeared lost in thought, not necessarily of the happiest kind. Maybe he wasn’t completely indifferent to that threat made earlier.

      “Do you have any family in the area?” she asked, hoping to pry some information loose.

      “No. My family, such as it is, is in Europe.”

      “Such as it is?”

      “My mother is the only close relative I have left.” His mouth twisted wryly. “She is, however, the world’s biggest schemer, highly manipulative, and highly volatile. And I love her dearly.”

      Serena didn’t know how to reply to that. In fact, she was beginning to wonder if she had utterly misheard that weasel’s words. “Do you…see her often?”

      “Whenever I’m in Europe, which is quite often. It can be something of a trial, though. She’s forever plotting to find a way to turn me into something I’m not.”

      “Which is?”

      “Well, it used to be James Bond. Right now it’s something else.” He waved a hand, as if to brush away the thoughts. “What about you ladies? Your families?”

      “Well,” said Ariel, “I have none.”

      That was a question Serena had never asked her, and now, hearing the answer, she felt her throat tighten. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

      “Oh, it’s okay,” Ariel said brightly. “It’s been a long time. And I’m well-off. Luckier than most, don’t you think?”

      “You’re such a positive thinker.”

      Ariel laughed. “Of course. Is there any other way to be?”

      “Well, you can share my family from now on.”

      Ariel looked impishly at her. “Are they all like you?”

      A helpless laugh bubbled out of Serena, rising from deep within her. “Touché,” she managed to say between giggles.

      Ariel laughed with her, and Darius looked from one to the other, amused, even though he must surely feel left out.

      “Serena,” Ariel confided, “is a would-be adventuress. She gets into all kinds of trouble when she’s on vacation.”

      “Hey,” Serena said, “I haven’t been arrested yet.”

      “She came awfully close last Christmas,” Ariel explained to Darius. “She was playing Mrs. Claus at the mall, and one too many little brats mouthed off at her and kicked her in the shin. So she told the parents, all the parents, what they could do with their little monsters.”

      Darius laughed heartily. “Good for you,” he told Serena.

      “She was supposed to go on a naked cruise this time,” Ariel continued, “but the IRS seized the ship.”

      “Ariel!”

      The young woman shrugged. “It’s the truth. I know you keep saying ‘clothing optional,’ but I don’t know what the difference is.”

      Darius’s gaze settled on Serena again. He was smiling, but his eyes seemed to hold some deeper message, something that made her squirm in her chair. Something that felt too pleasurable for her own good. She gripped the armrests tightly and forced herself to be still.

      At that moment an errant gust hit her, blowing her hair across her face and somehow managing to blow her skirt up to the top of her thighs.

      “Oh!” Embarrassment filled her and she blindly reached to pull her skirt down and tuck it tightly around her legs.

      “Better than Marilyn’s,” Darius said, a laugh trembling in his voice.

      Serena glared at him through strands of blond hair. “Don’t be a cad.”

      “Odd. That’s one thing my mother has always hoped I’d become.”

      Brushing her hair out of her eyes, she asked, “Why?”

      “My father was a very stolid Swiss banker. She spent most of his life trying to turn him into D’Artagnan.”

      “Poor man.”

      “They were very much in love.” Darius’s gaze strayed back out over the water, his face growing pensive, almost sad. “Anyway, now she’s decided to reform me.”

      Serena’s heart slammed. “How so?”

      “She’s staged her own kidnapping.”