fluent are you?” she asked, continuing in English, testing him. “Is it difficult to follow me?”
“No. It doesn’t seem any different from Italian.”
He had almost no accent, his English was easy, his diction relaxed, making him sound American, not British. She suspected he’d been educated at one point in the United States. “Would you mind speaking English then?”
“No.”
“But should it give you a headache, or if it creates any stress—”
“No need to fuss over me. I’m fine.”
She opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it. He was a man used to having the final word. So who was he? And why did he, even now, ooze power?
“Tell me again about the people I was with on the yacht,” he said. “Tell me everything you know.”
“I will after you eat something.”
“I’m not hungry anymore.”
“That’s strange, because my memory seems to be fading, as well.”
He gave her a hard look. “I’m not amused.”
“Neither am I. You’ve been through a great deal, and we need to get you strong. And as I am your primary caregiver here—”
“I don’t like being coddled.”
“And I’m not known to coddle, so eat, and I’ll tell you everything. Don’t eat, and you can fret by yourself because I have things to do besides argue with you.”
His eyes narrowed and his jaw hardened, making a small muscle in his jaw pop. For a long moment he just looked at her, clearly not happy with the situation, but then he reached for the plate of chicken and took a bite, and then another, and did a pretty impressive job of devouring the rest. He lifted his head at one point and met her gaze. “This is good, by the way. Very good.”
“Thank you.”
“You made this?”
“Yes.”
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I have a freezer, and I use the kiln outside for roasting the potatoes and baking. The rest I prepare on the stove.”
“A kiln?”
“It makes excellent flatbreads, and pizzas, too. I learned how to cook in a kiln when we lived in Peru. That was before here. I loved Peru. My father loved the stratovolcano.” She smiled faintly, remembering his excitement and obsession as Sabancaya roared to life, spewing ash and rumbling the mountain. If it weren’t for the village women, Josephine would have been forgotten. Instead they took her and her father in and helped teach Josephine to cook, and as a thank-you, Josephine would look after the children, giving the hardworking mothers a break.
“Where else have you lived?”
“Washington State, Hawaii, Peru, and Italy, but that was brief, before here. We’ve been here the longest.”
“Was every place this isolated?”
“No, this is definitely the most remote, but I’m truly happy here.”
“Is that why you just watched us on the beach and didn’t come introduce yourself?”
She laughed as she reached for his plate. “I think we come from different worlds. I am quite sure I’d be an oddity in your world.”
His brow creased. “You think so?”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t know how to drape myself over and around handsome men.” Her lips twitched. “I can’t for the life of me just lie on a beach. I need to be active, and instead of sunbathing I’d be catching fish, and examining the water table, and trying to figure out the volcanic history of the exposed rocks—” she broke off. “Not your kind of girl at all.”
“What is my kind?”
“The kind that looks like a swimsuit model. The kind that doesn’t lift anything, not even her own swim bag. The kind that pouts when you don’t feel like talking.”
“Interesting,” he drawled, blue eyes glinting.
“How so?”
“You didn’t like my friends. You never said that earlier. This is new information.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not factual and not important—”
“But revealing about you.”
“Exactly. There is no reason to share my feelings on anything. I should be focused on assisting you. Who I am and what I feel isn’t relevant in any way.”
“You’re allowed to have opinions.”
“I’ll voice them if they’ll be helpful. Me judging your female friends isn’t helpful. It’s just me being petty and unkind and unnecessary.”
“Why do I feel like you are a rare breed?”
“Because I am strange. I don’t fit in. I never have.”
“Sounds a bit defeatist, don’t you think?”
“I would agree with you if I were here licking my wounds. But I’m here by choice, because I’m happy here. I sleep well here. I can breathe here. I don’t feel odd or different, and on Khronos I don’t second-guess myself, and that’s a good thing.”
“You’re saying society makes you uncomfortable.”
“Absolutely.” She carried his plate and fork to the small sink in her very small kitchen and felt his gaze bore into her back as she filled the small plastic dish tub with water to let them soak. “But I’ve been raised outside society so it’s to be expected.”
“Have you ever lived in a city?”
“Honolulu.”
“Is that a proper city?”
She turned and shot him a disapproving look. “Yes. Honolulu has some beautiful architecture and it has a fascinating history. Hawaii isn’t just beaches and surfing.” She didn’t tell him, though, that she didn’t enjoy going back to Oahu anymore because it was too urban for her now. There were far too many cars and people and it had been overwhelming, which was why she’d elected to remain behind on Khronos while her father went to teach.
She turned away from the sink, wiped her hands dry on a dish towel and carried the water carafe to the table. “There were maybe twelve of you that came onto the beach,” she said, taking her seat again. “Seven men, including you, and five women. The yacht was huge. One of the biggest, most luxurious yachts I’ve ever seen. Your group would come onto the beach during the day and everyone would
