Page 114 of Unforgiving Queen
Swimming it is, I decided as goosebumps broke over my skin at the thought of the cold water. It was December and hardly the time for a dip in the sea.
I made my way to the upper deck. It was larger than I remembered. The sun glimmered over the spotless wood and the sea reflected off the expansive windows. My ballet flats were silent against the wood floor as I approached the table where Amon was seated, speaking to a man. Judging by his uniform, he had to be the captain.
Without a word, I took a seat on the opposite side of the table from Amon.
“You took your sweet time.” His words dripped with sarcasm like a strawberry freshly dipped in chocolate. His voice was husky, pouring over me like dark silk. Seductive. Smoky.
“Nobody asked you to wait.” I shot him a dry look and found him smirking at me. “What?” I snapped.
“I have a gift for you.”
“Not interested.” Not after the shit he pulled earlier. “Not unless it’s dropping me off at the nearest port.”
“I’m afraid it’s not that.”
Ignoring him, I reached for a bagel off the tray and spread cream cheese on it. I missed dinner last night, and the moment I bit into it, my hunger flared.
He switched chairs, ignoring my resentment and glares, and moved over to sit next to me. I kept eating, intent on not looking his way. I chewed on my bagel, then washed it down with the orange juice that was waiting for me.
Amon placed three boxes on the table in front of me and my teeth clenched at having to look his way. “What is this?”
“Your gifts.”
“I don’t want gifts from you.” This anger toward him spread like a rash. “Wouldn’t touch them with a ten-foot pole.”
“I’ll change your mind.” He didn’t seem offended. Why in the fuck wasn’t he offended? “Your attitude reminds me of someone.”
I sat up straighter. “I don’t give a shit. Stop talking to me.”
His eyes gleamed, the old stars and galaxies dancing in them. Damn him.
“Don’t you want to know the occasion?” he asked, unperturbed with my defiance.
“Nope.”
“They’re gifts for your birthday,” he proceeded to say.
“It’s not my birthday,” I muttered. The fucker didn’t even remember my actual birthday.
“The birthdays I’ve missed, cinnamon girl.”
My heart fluttered, but I immediately hardened it. “Stop calling me that,” I snarled. “You lost that right a long time ago. And there’s nothing you could possibly give me that I want.”
His jaw visibly twitched. “Open your gifts, Reina. It’s rude to refuse.”
“As if I give a shit after what you’ve done.” I immediately bit my lip, cursing myself. I didn’t want him to know I was bitter. “Asshole,” I muttered, flipping my hair and returning my attention to my bagel.
“Did you say something?”
I closed my eyes and focused on the taste of the bagel and the feel of the cool winter air against my skin. Truthfully, each moment I spent out in this cold had my earlier resolve about swimming ashore wavering.
I tried to remember how long it took for hypothermia to kick in and couldn’t. I really should have paid more attention in school. I looked out into the distance. It couldn’t be that hard. Just had to jump in and then maybe, if I was lucky, another boat would pick me up and I’d be back in Paris in no time.
In the middle of winter?my brain mocked. Maybe I’d try for the tender and swimming could be my last resort. Yes, good plan.
Silence followed as I continued to eat my bagel, ignoring him and his gifts. I bided my time, studying the surroundings and contemplating where the tender would be located.
“Where are we?” I finally asked. It looked like Southern France, but it was hard to tell.
