Page 3 of Claimed By the Possessive Mafia Prince
“So, we can scout the tour beforehand. I want to ensure the Bianchis have the best experience. The email included this agreement as well.”
“Tour, yes, but I’m very busy, Miss Siena, until the tour. I promise you the tour will be great. The best tour you’ve ever had.”
“Where are the boats?” I snap.
“Behind the hut.”
“Then forget I said anything. Just make sure you and your team are ready for the tour. Do you have a map of the route we’ll be taking?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll take one–please.”
Once he’s collected one for me, I stuff it in my pocket and walk around the hut, eyeing up the rowboats. Putting my phone, the map, and my room key in my small waterproof fanny pack, I grab one of the smaller boats and begin dragging it down the beach, a light layer of sweat already coating me.
“Miss Siena?” Ahmed chases after me. “What are you doing?”
“I need to scout the locations to ensure it’s as romantic as possible,” I reply. “As I told you in my email. If you won’t help me, then I’ll do it myself.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“Maybe not, but it’s the only one I have. Unless you’ve changed your mind and you and your team are going to come with me?”
He shakes his head.
“Okay, then.”
He returns to the hut, and I drag the boat into the shallows. A moment later, Ahmed comes running back with a life vest in his hand. “Take this, Miss Siena.”
“Great–thanks.”
I put the vest on and then push the boat further into the water. The waves splash around my thighs and then my hips. Jumping into the boat, I fix the oars into the slots and paddle, filled with determination.
Based on the map, the tour is going to take us out to get a view of the island, sitting like a peach in the water, the palm trees rising like fuzz, with rock formations and an artificial waterfall visible (another Bianchi creation). Then we’re going to row around the island to the other end, where, apparently, the island takes the appearance of a smiling face from certain angles.
I bet the island has a more convincing smile than I do at the moment.
I won’t go into self-pitying territory, however, because nothing good can come of that. I’m in paradise, and sure, I’m stressed, but that comes with wanting to do a good job.
As I row, I think about that weird look on Ahmed’s face again. It seems like a bad omen?—
Something striking the boat interrupts my thoughts. It jostles from side to side. I grip the oars and sit heavily to make sure I don’t go flying overboard.
When I’m steady enough, I peer over the water.
A snorkel pokes out of the water, then, a moment later, a man’s face follows. He smirks up at me. Mid to late thirties, dark glistening hair, and dark watchful eyes, which are playful despite their immediate intensity.
“Mind if I join you?” he says in a rough, teasing voice.
Before I can answer, he hauls himself into the boat, sitting opposite me in just his swimming trunks. Water slides down his sculpted body. I’m not here for romance, so obviously, I’m not going to say anything.
But I’d be lying to myself if I claimed he wasn’t hot…
CHAPTER 2
DARIO
Her expression is difficult to read, her honey eyes seeming to hide purposefully what she’s feeling. Her body is smoking hot, curvy in all the right places, her vest hugging onto her curvaceous form, her shorts showing the thickness of her legs. She tied her hair up in a no-nonsense bun.
