“Does everyone want rid of me?” Robby grumbled.

“We all want you to get better,” Emma insisted. “Roman offered his villa in Tuscany or his new one on Patmos.”

“Patmos?” He’d never been there before.

“’Tis a Greek isle,” Angus explained. “Verra lovely, I hear.”

“It’s where Saint John envisioned Revelations and the end of the world,” Emma added.

“Well, that’s comforting.” Robby shrugged one shoulder. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll go for a week or two.”

“Four months,” Angus said.

Robby gaped. “What? The spa was only three months.”

“The spa had a therapist,” Angus reminded him. “We figure if ye’re on yer own, ye’ll need more time. Of course, ye could change yer mind about therapy—”

“No. Hell, no.”

“Then four months it is,” Angus said. “All expenses paid. Plus yer usual salary. Ye canna beat that, lad.”

Emma smiled. “We’ll see you at Christmas, and you’ll be so much better.”

Better, his arse. This wasn’t a vacation. It was a bloody exile. Imprisoned on an island like Napoleon. But then, Napoleon escaped from his first island. Robby figured he could do the same. For a Vamp with teleportation abilities, it would be easy. And no one would ever know.

CHAPTER 2

Island of Patmos, three months later…

Olivia Sotiris eased the back door shut. It had to be about one-thirty in the morning, she guessed, but her inner clock was still on Central Standard Time.

Her ferry had arrived in the port of Skala that afternoon, and her grandmother was there, waiting with a young taxi driver who just happened to be single. After driving them the short distance to the Sotiris home in Grikos, the young Greek had stowed her luggage in the guest room, then taken them to a local taverna.

The whole village had gathered there to gawk at Eleni Sotiris’s American granddaughter. And according to Eleni, every eligible bachelor on the island was in attendance.