The Bed You Make
Chapter 28, continued
Nikolas Cassadine stood just outside the doorway leading into the dining room of the Port Charles Hotel. He listened with frustration to the impersonal voicemail message that instructed him to leave yet another message. “Alexis,” Nikolas obediently complied, “please return my call.” He snapped the phone shut. He'd left identical messages at Alexis' house, with her service and on the private line at her office. Stefan and Dara were scheduled to travel to Manhattan later that evening, a stopover before departing for Greece and the family home the next day. Nikolas wanted his aunt to hear the news from him.
“I apologize for this latest interruption.” Nikolas resumed his place at the table. He and his breakfast companion were the only occupants of the room; the dining room did not normally open for another forty minutes or so. “It will be the last, I promise. I have left messages for Alexis every place that she might get them.”
“I am sure that she'll call you back soon. Maybe she's just getting out of bed.”
Nikolas took a surreptitious glance at the sleepy gaze of his breakfast companion. “We could,” he chided her, “have met for breakfast at a later hour.”
“Oh, no!” Emily Bowen-Quartermaine guiltily widened her eyes in an attempt to appear more alert. “This is fine!” She spied the faint smile on Nikolas' face. “Okay. It is a little earlier than my family gets up, but I know you like to start your day early.”
“It is not so much that I like it, as much as it is a requirement of being a Cassadine. Or marrying one,” he explained. “Dara has already adapted to our early hours.”
“I can't imagine that your uncle would accept anything else,” Emily frowned. “Would the person you marry be required to follow the same early morning schedule?”
“Are you asking if things would be different because I am the Prince?” Nikolas pretended to think about it. “Well…” he teased, “Not really. But I would like to think the Princess and I would have our own reasons for being awake quite early every morning.”
Nikolas watched as Emily's cheeks flushed with sudden understanding. He was fascinated by the air of innocence that, despite living among the Quartermaine craziness, clung to Emily like a shroud. “I am sorry, Emily,” Nikolas offered when the young woman ducked her head and took refuge behind the dark veil of her hair. His broad smile told the lie of his words. “I cannot help but tease you.”
Emily squared her shoulders and met Nikolas' teasing gaze. “Well,” she curled an errant lock of hair behind her ear, “enjoy yourself. When you go to Greece you'll have to find someone else to make fun of.”
“That is true,” Nikolas nodded soberly. “There will not be a lot of candidates for that position once I have returned to Greece.” A mischievous smile curved his lips. “That merely means I will have to make you blush as often as I can before I go.”
