Page 2 of Etched In Stone
I closed my eyes, welcoming the prospect of a peaceful nap wrapped in luxury and the security of Alexander’s presence. As consciousness began to slip away, I felt him adjust beside me, his hand never leaving my leg, and I drifted off with a smile on my lips.
Chapter Two
Krystina
“Krystina.” The sound of my name, spoken in that deep, familiar voice, pulled me slowly from the depths of dreamless sleep. Alexander’s tone was gentle but insistent, designed to wake me without startling me. “You need to wake up, angel.”
“Mmm...” I kept my eyes closed, not quite ready to leave the embrace of half-sleep, but I smiled and tilted my head in a way that had become second nature between us. The movement was subtle but deliberate, an invitation that granted him access to the delicate, sensitive skin just below my earlobe. I loved when he kissed me there—the spot that made me melt every single time—and he knew it.
From the Bluetooth speaker, “Adore You” by Harry Styles drifted softly through the room, the dreamy melody and intimate lyrics wrapping around me. Each note seemed to echo the thrum of my heartbeat, every chord dripping with seduction.
Alexander’s breath fanned over me, hot and inviting, making my pulse quicken. He leaned in closer, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body as his lips barely grazed the shell of my ear. When he spoke, his voice was rough with want, the words a sensual promise that made my toes curl in my shoes.
“I can’t wait to see you wrapped in nothing but moonlight, spread out beneath me while I make you scream my name.”
My eyes flew open as a shiver coursed through me, a delicious blend of nerves and excitement that started at my scalp and raced all the way down to my toes. Heat flooded my cheeks as Alexander’s words painted images more vivid than any artist’s canvas—a velvet night sky spangled with diamonds, the soft rustle of palm leaves in a gentle breeze, and the sensation of his hands exploring every contour of my moonlit flesh with the patience and thoroughness that had become his signature.
“Is that where we’re going?” I asked, my voice still husky from sleep. “The Caribbean?”
“Maybe,” he teased, those sapphire eyes sparkling with mischief and reflecting a desire so palpable I could almost reach out and touch it. The corner of his mouth quirked up in that way that never failed to make my heart skip. “You still need to have patience, Mrs. Stone.”
Mrs. Stone.
Hearing him say it sent another wave of giddy happiness through me.
“Patience is not one of my virtues,” I reminded him, unconsciously leaning closer. “You know that better than anyone.”
His hand tightened possessively on my thigh, and I saw the exact moment his control wavered. His pupils dilated, and he leaned forward as if to claim my lips, to show me exactly what he thought of my impatience. But before he could respond, before either of us could give in to the magnetic pull that never seemed to fade between us, the pilot’s voice crackled through the cabin’s intercom system.
“Crew members and passengers, we are beginning our descent into Montego Bay. Please prepare for landing and ensure your seatbelts are secure.”
The spell broke, but the promise still lingered in the air between us, heavy and intoxicating. I straightened in my seat with reluctant obedience, peeling my gaze from Alexander’s magnetic pull to look out the oval window beside me. Below us, an endless expanse of blue stretched out in every direction, the ocean’s surface catching the golden light of late afternoon and throwing it back at us in a million glittering fragments. The water shifted from deep navy in the far distance to brilliant turquoise closer to shore, where I could just make out the outline of land emerging.
“Jamaica?” I asked, though the answer was already obvious. My heart did a little skip of excitement. I’d always wanted to visit the island, drawn by images of pristine beaches and crystal-clear water.
“I’ve reserved a private villa for us,” Alexander confirmed, his business voice returning as he began folding the newspaper he’d been reading during my nap. But I caught the satisfied smile playing at his lips. “We’ll stay for a few days to adjust and relax, then rendezvous with The Lucy. It gives us a period of rest and recharge, while allowing enough time for the crew to navigate her down the coast to meet us.”
I raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised to hear we’d be spending time on Alexander’s luxury yacht. The Lucy was his pride and joy, a stunning vessel that was more floating palace than boat. I loved being on the water—something about the endless horizon and the gentle rocking of the waves had always soothed my soul. It was why we’d chosen to get married on her decks in the first place, surrounded by our closest friends and family with the sunset painting the sky in shades of pink and gold.
“Where are we sailing?” I asked, unable to keep the excitement from my voice. The possibilities seemed endless.
“That, my beautiful wife, is still a surprise.” He leaned in and kissed me softly on the lips, a gentle brush that somehow managed to convey both tenderness and barely restrained passion. “But I promise you’ll love every minute of it.”
My heart fluttered, marveling at this incredible life we were weaving together. Every thread seemed perfectly placed, every color more vibrant than the last. I was married to a man who’d move mountains to make me happy, who planned elaborate surprises just to see me smile, and who loved me with an intensity that still took my breath away.
The descent seemed to take forever and yet no time at all. I watched through the window as Jamaica grew larger and more detailed below us, revealing lush green mountains that rolled down to pristine beaches lapped by waters so clear I could see the coral reefs beneath the surface. The jet handled the approach with smooth precision, and I felt only the gentlest bump as the wheels touched down on the private airstrip.
When the engines finally wound down and the cabin door opened, a rush of warm, humid air greeted us, carrying the intoxicating scent of salt and tropical flowers. It hit me like a force, so different from the air-conditioned perfection of the jet, and I lifted my face to the sun for a moment, feeling some deep part of me unwind. I took a deep breath, letting the warm breeze fill my lungs. I pushed a strand of hair from my face, wishing for a rubber band to tie it back. As excited as I was to be here, many hair products were in my future if I had any hope of taming my curls in this humid air.
Alexander appeared at my side, his hand finding the small of my back in that protective gesture that had become so natural between us. Together, we stepped onto the sun-drenched tarmac of the small private airstrip.
A kaleidoscope of vivid blues and greens unfolded before my eyes in every direction. The Caribbean sky was an impossible shade of azure, so pure and brilliant it almost hurt to look at directly. It formed the perfect backdrop to the lush tropical foliage that framed the runway—towering palms that swayed in the breeze and flowering bushes bursting with color.
Alexander’s arm slipped around my waist, pulling me closer to his side, and I felt his lips brush against my temple as he spoke words that seemed to sum up everything I was feeling.
“Welcome to our beginning, angel.”
Chapter Three
