Mia and Brenna followed him down the stairs. Mia heard voices coming from the kitchen. She walked in and saw Kelly leaning against the counter.

“Mia,” she said, her voice thick. “Hey, how’s it going?” Her gaze locked on the glass still in Mia’s hand. “Is that wine? Can I have some?”

As she spoke, her entire body swayed.

“She’s drunk,” Brenna muttered. “This is perfect. Just perfect.”

“Just a little taste,” Kelly said. “Want me to dance for it? ’Coz that’s what I do. Dance for my supper.” She giggled, then tried a pirouette.

She managed half a turn, then she grabbed for the counter, missed, and sank slowly to the floor. By the time Mia reached her, she’d already passed out.

13

Francesca closed the bedroom door. As she turned, Sam caught her in his arms and held her close.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Francesca murmured. “Why is she doing this?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted.

Mia shifted uncomfortably, feeling that she was intruding. But before she could leave, Francesca looked at her.

“Tell me this is the first time she’s shown up like this.”

Mia made an X over her heart. “Trust me. If Kelly had been showing up here drunk and passing out, I would have been on the phone to you in a heartbeat. I don’t get it. She’s always been a pretty decent kid. Happy, interested. It’s awful.”

“I know.” Francesca took Sam’s hand and led the way down the stairs. They went into the kitchen, where the Grands had prepared a late-night snack that could easily feed thirty.

“Brenna went home,” Grammy M said. “She’s going to call you in the morning.”

Francesca nodded. “I know she will. I know everyone is worried. I just wish we had some answers. I want to say this is typical acting out, except Kelly is twenty and she’s always been so mature for her age. Shouldn’t this have happened a few years ago?”

Grandma Tessa ushered them to the large table where sandwiches, cold pasta dishes, and salads waited. There were pots of decaf and tea, along with a pitcher of ice water and two open bottles of Marcelli wine.

Francesca reached for one of the bottles. “She was drunk,” she said, as if she couldn’t believe it. “Kelly’s been tasting wine for years. She’s never been interested in drinking to excess. Last I heard, she didn’t even like hard liquor and she had trouble getting through a glass of wine in an evening.”

Sam put his arm around her. “She’s always been complicated.”

“I know and I even understand why,” Francesca said. “She went through some tough times. But I thought we’d worked through all that. I thought she felt happy and loved and wanted. We still ask her to come home when she’s on break from the company and I was sure she knew we meant it. We’ve kept her room as it was. The twins adore her.”

Tessa nodded. “She’s doing well with the ballet company, isn’t she?”

“Absolutely,” Sam said. “Everyone was very impressed with how she did last year, and this year, she was given several important parts.” He frowned. “Or is it dances?”

Mia grabbed half a sandwich. “There’s something going on,” she said. “Kelly was hanging out with me about a week ago. She stayed here for the night. We did a whole clothes-girl talk thing.”

Francesca and Sam both waited expectantly, which made Mia feel bad. “She just said she, ah, admired my life. That it was romantic.” When she finished speaking, she braced herself for the groans and recriminations.

Sam looked at Francesca. “I could live with Kelly being like Mia.”

Francesca smiled. “Me too. Thanks, Mia. You’re making us feel better.”

Mia blinked at her. “Excuse me? Kelly is talking about patterning her life after mine? I’m the queen of poor choices in the male department, I’m twenty-seven and still living at home, I have no job, and I’m a single mother. On what planet is that a success?”

“On this one,” Sam told her. “You’re very intelligent, you go after what you want. You’re not afraid to work for your goals. You have a master’s and now you’re getting a law degree. You’re raising a great kid.”

“He’s right,” Francesca told her. “Besides, a lot of women make poor choices with men. Not all of us can get lucky.” She smiled at Sam.

“I wouldn’t describe what I’ve done as a poor choice. Disaster maybe.” But she didn’t speak with a whole lot of energy. Hearing Sam and Francesca talk about her in such glowing terms was the first positive thing to happen to her in nearly a week. She’d never thought her very successful, very happy older sister would consider her much more than a screwup.

Francesca sank down onto a chair. “I hope Kelly isn’t acting this way because of Etienne. I don’t know what she sees in the man, and it would break my heart to have her behaving this way because of him.”

“She didn’t seem especially interested in talking about him,” Mia said. “Not in a romantic way. Usually Kelly can’t stop talking about a guy who interests her. So that’s something.”

Francesca looked at her. “So Kelly is sleeping with someone she doesn’t actually care about?” She touched her stomach. “Oh, God, I feel sick.”

“No, I didn’t mean it that way,” Mia said quickly.

Sam shook his head. “Mia, please. Don’t worry about it. We both know what you’re saying. It doesn’t seem that Etienne is the love of her life. That’s good news. The rest of it we’ll figure out how to deal with.”

Francesca stood. “You’re right. Oh, Mia, we’ve been bothering you with this when you have so much going on already.”

“I don’t mind,” Mia said, and meant it. “As soon as you’re gone, I’ll only have my own life to think about, and right now, that’s not a thrilling prospect.”

The small hotel seemed to have more in common with a B and B than a large chain, Mia thought as Joe parked in the nearly empty lot in front of the long building. She took in the ceramic animals in the garden, the seasonal flag over the front door, and a large plaque proclaiming “Our Guests Are Our Family” by the porch.

The whole place screamed cute, and she had a feeling Rafael would hate every second he was there. The thought cheered her as she climbed out of Joe’s SUV and walked to the reception area.

“He bought out a whole wing,” her brother said as he fell into step with her. “They have the second floor. It’s ten rooms. They’re using three of them and leaving the others empty.”

“At least it will be quiet for him,” she murmured. “He can catch up on his sleep.”

There was a young woman sitting behind the counter. She had an open biology book next to the registration log. A student, Mia thought. Probably from UC Santa Barbara.

“Hi,” Mia said with a smile. “We’re here to see Prince Rafael.”

The girl glanced around, as if looking for spies, then spoke in a low voice. “We’re not supposed to tell anyone he’s here. He’s been very clear about that. Not that anyone has been asking.” She flipped through several papers. “Are you Mia Marcelli?”

Mia nodded.

“You’re allowed to go see him.” She glanced doubtfully at Joe.

“I’m her brother,” he said easily. “Rafael and I go way back.”

The receptionist nodded. “Okay. They have the second floor of the beach wing. The stairs are right out there. He’s in room twenty-three.” She smiled again. “It’s our biggest suite. A really pretty room. He said it reminded him of when he stayed in Paris. Can you believe it? I’ve never been anywhere. He’s so gorgeous and a real prince. I Googled him.” She giggled.

“All right, then,” Mia said. “Thanks for your help.”

She and Joe found the stairs and climbed them. Before they reached the top, Oliver had stepped out onto the landing.

“Morning,” Joe said cheerfully. “Great place. Can you see the ocean from your rooms? I’ll bet they serve a nice breakfast. I heard the chefs are all culinary arts students.”

Oliver glared without speaking. Umberto joined him. Joe moved forward until he reached the landing. Mia followed.

“You’re not allowed in,” Umberto growled. “Only her.”

“That would be almost-princess Mia to you,” Mia said brightly. “And I’m not going anywhere without Joe. He’s not armed, though. We figured you’d get fussy about that. But feel free to check him out yourself. I always thought you got a bit of a thrill patting the guys down.”

Umberto growled, then motioned for Oliver to search Joe. The pat-down was quick and efficient. Oliver shook his head.

Mia wore a cropped tank top over a long cotton skirt. She’d left her purse in the car and held nothing in her hands.

She spun in a slow circle. “As you can see, I’m not armed, either. Don’t worry, as much as I want him dead, I don’t want to be obvious about killing him.”

The men exchanged a glance, then waved Mia and Joe through. Mia checked the numbers on the doors and knocked on 23.

Rafael answered immediately. She ignored him as she stepped into the suite. Just being close to him was enough to send her into a fiery temper, and right now she wanted to avoid any strong emotion. Far better to just get through the conversation without feeling anything at all. Emotional neutrality would be a win for her.

She took a moment to absorb the floral wallpaper and how it carefully matched the drapes and the cushions on the sofa. There were silks and satins and laces. Plants, tiny tables crammed with pictures in frames, and tiny crystal vases and knickknacks. There wasn’t an inch of clear tabletop or a foot empty of furniture. The rooms were crowded and fussy. She knew instantly he would despise them. How lovely.

She turned back to Rafael. “Interesting room.”

He shrugged. “I wanted to be close.”

“I’m sure you did. All the better to kidnap Danny.”

“Mia, please. That was not what I had planned.”