Page 72 of Night and Day
As they got within reach, Izzy jumped on it, tying a cable around one of the supporting poles. The structure didn’t wobble beneath him and Mia relaxed a little. As the boat gently bumped against the dock, Izzy helped her onto it. She relished the sensation of something solid underneath her feet and happily peeled off her bulky life jacket.
The sun had dipped behind the trees, casting its glow on the opposite riverbank, making the windows of sparsely spaced, luxurious houses flash like diamonds.
“I like this place. Can we stay overnight?” Mia sat on the edge of the dock, swinging her legs just above the water’s surface. “Or do you want to keep going?”
Izzy sat next to her, his bare feet dipping into the stream. “I don’t care where we go. This is perfect.”
It was. Mia closed her eyes, inhaling the fresh air that carried scents of plants, flowers and whatever lived in the water. “Should we get some blankets and pillows or something, and just hang out here? It’s a nice boat, but the cabin is pretty hot.”
“Yeah. It’ll cool down at night.”
Izzy climbed back on the boat and soon returned with blankets, pillows and the chilly bin, and they set up a picnic on the dock. Mia’s eyes widened at the mouth-watering spread of pastries, strawberries, cherries and melon slices. She picked up a strawberry and Izzy held up a can of whipped cream.
“Open wide,” he said, and squeezed cream straight into her laughing mouth.
After pastries, egg sandwiches and two cups of Pinot Gris, Mia felt full and mellow, her head lolling on her shoulders.
Izzy lay on the blanket with his guitar, his head propped on a pillow, strumming a song she didn’t recognise. There was so much more she needed to learn about this man, but right now, she felt the kind of kinship that hardly needed words. “Can you play that song from the cave?”
“Secrets of the stars? No, that needs two guitars. You’d have to play with me.”
“We should have brought both! Although I’m not great at playing by the ear like you. I need chords and even then I struggle.” A sad smile pulled at her lips. “I’m not a proper musician.”
“What’s a proper musician? You don’t need a perfect ear or a higher degree. As long as you have ideas and find your own sound.”
“You think so?”
“There are plenty of people who’ve built a music career on a gimmick of some kind, or a very unique sound, or lyrics... You just have to build your audience.”
“What about your filmmaking? Are you building an audience?”
Izzy sat up, looking away. “No. You’re right. I don’t practise what I preach. Ignore me.”
She took the guitar off him. “I can’t ignore you. I think you’re right, you just need to take your own advice and put that story out there.”
Izzy threw her a lopsided smile. “If you record one of your songs.”
She met his gaze, unflinching. “Deal.” What had she just agreed to? Mia swallowed. The air vibrated around her, like she’d been captured inside an alternate reality. One where she shamelessly explored her creativity.
Izzy dug inside his backpack and produced a portable speaker, connecting it to his phone. “Should we listen to something?”
“What if someone hears us?”
Mia glanced over her shoulder. The shore seemed deserted. During their picnic, night had fallen and she struggled to see into the shadows. The day’s warmth lingered in the air, although she could feel the beginning of the evening chill on her bare arms. The sky had turned a gradient of light turquoise and deep blue and a crescent moon hung above their heads like a discarded nail clipping. As the first beats of strings rose from the speaker, a different kind of chill vibrated through her. “What is this?”
“Shostakovich.”
“It makes me want to dance.” Mia swayed to the music.
“It’s a waltz.” Izzy stood up, extending his hand. “Dance with me?”
“The awkward white-man dance?” She chuckled, but took his hand. “We’re going to waltz right into the river.”
“Maybe, but we’ll do it with style.” Izzy hooked a hand around her waist and moved to the music, taking steps so small that they hardly moved from the one spot in the middle of the dock.
Mia relaxed against him, trusting him to keep her safe. The jazzy waltz flowed through her, making her heart ache with its beauty and wonder. He raised her hand and she did a cautious pirouette, her white dress billowing around her. As he pulled her back to his chest, she caught his scent and her stomach wobbled. Was it possible to smell pheromones? Inhaling him, she sensed the explosive strength under that dark skin, the way he could take her, the way he held her both gently and with desperate force, afraid to let go.
After last night, she’d briefly thought about staying away from him until it was time to fly back, to not complicate things further. But the decision had evaporated the moment she’d woken up, the powerful dream still lingering in her mind. Her entire body responded to his desire, her insides turning into liquid. She had no hope of doing anything but this man until the evil forces of reality ripped them apart. Yet, every moment of intimacy increased her sense of dread. She was lending him pieces of herself, pieces she might never see again.
