Page 20 of Prima
She laughs. Her raft isn’t simply a raft. It boasts an understructure almost as long and as wide as the raft itself that can detach from the raft and function as a submarine. SinkingThe Arrow of Timewould be the least of its capabilities.
“Then why did you keep following me?”
A warm breeze ruffles the surface of the sea and ripples the fabric of his tunic against his lean, strong torso. He finishes the rest of his red snapper. “Your spice mix overwhelms the flavor of the fish itself. All it needs is a bit of paprika and some lime juice.”
“Say something nice about it.”
He refills her teacup, and then his own. “It’s grilled properly.”
She grins. “Thank you. Not too dry?”
“Do you want the truth or do you want more compliments?”
“More compliments, of course.”
“It’s tender and juicy.”
She doesn’t know about his but the one she just finished was indeed tender and juicy. She smiles at him. He stares at her, which makes her feel like a cauldron on the inside, so hot that she bubbles and brims over.
She sets her elbows on the table. “You may compliment my personal attributes too. Surely once you realized my superior firepower, you kept following me only because you wished to be close to me?”
He snorts. “You are notthatbeautiful. I kept following you because I was looking for an opportunity to seize your raft—it would also make for a decent present to the higher-ups.”
Mind. Blown.
She leans forward even more, her arms squeezed in, her breasts straining against her sarong. “So if I must swim home, I’ll have no one to blame but myself, as you’ve already made your intentions abundantly clear.”
To his credit, his gaze only descended to her lips before traveling up again. “Precisely.”
“Is this how you treat other girls who are interested in you?”
He wrinkles his nose—and looks incredibly cute in doing so. But is he insulted by her question? “Madam, I accepted your invitation to lunch, I brought you a present, and I even made you compliments. That is not how I conduct myself with other girls.”
“One.”
“What?”
“You made me only one compliment, after I requested it.”
“Not true.” He oscillates his skewer a few centimeters left and right for emphasis. “I also said that you’re a decent cook.”
“And being told that I’m merely decent at something is a compliment?”
“It’s the best compliment I ever received during my culinary training. And you, madam, are nowhere as good as I was.”
She giggles. Goodness, she’s in full-on infatuation mode, isn’t she? “Howdoyou treat other girls, then?”
He sighs—at her insistence or the answer he is about to give? “I ignore them when I can. And when necessary, forcibly remove them from my immediate vicinity.”
That sounds drastic. Yet he does not appear to be joking—or even exaggerating. In fact, his expression is grim, like that of a sailor who finds himself in the middle of a storm.
“Are you cleaving to some impossible standard of virtue?”
Now he just looks tired, as if his youth is but an illusion that can shatter at any moment. “No. Should my mother and sister make their escape, I would like to join them at some point. It’ll be much easier to do so on my own, rather than weighed down with concubines and children.”
She recalls that in Dawan a man sleeping with a woman is enough to mark her as his property and responsibility, culturally and legally, no pregnancy or children necessary.
Straightening, she glares at him. “So you agreed to lunch because I’m a transient in your life and will supply you with a pleasant time that will not make it more difficult for you to defect in the future.”
