Page 118 of Dagger in the Sea

Fuck after.

“Adriana? Vre, Adri, ti káneis ethó?”a loud male voice bellowed, blowing our discussion to bits before it got a chance to meld.

A towering figure cast a shadow over us. A young guy, Adri’s age, with messy, wind-tossed hair almost to his shoulders wearing a T-shirt, board shorts, and expensive Brazilian flip-flops gazed down at her, his dark eyes clocking every detail of her oiled up, sun-kissed body, his grin wide and eager. My spine straightened.

“Niko?” Adri jumped up and hugged the beach dude, and they chattered wildly in Greek. She grabbed onto my arm and introduced us.

“Turo, this is Niko Randopoulos. His family owns a huge plot of land he’s developing just behind the fields and the river over there.” She pointed to the green valley behind us.

Seriously? How the hell do you own a huge plot of land like that on this beach?

“I’ve brought the architect and the engineer to go over final details,” said Niko in English following Adri’s lead. “Construction begins next week.”

“So it’s finally been approved?” she asked.

“Approved enough.” He winked at her.

Adri jumped up on a squeal and gave Niko another hug.

“Congratulations! I’m so happy for you! It’s been such a long wait for this to go through.”

The jerk slid his arm around her waist and she turned to face me. “Niko is building a new type of resort based on sound ecological practices with a small organic farm, a restaurant, and a number of private bungalows.”

“Very exciting,” I said.

“I’d love for you to see. Do you have time?” His gleeful delight was focused on Adri like a super laser and made my pulse tick, tick, tick.

“Would you like to, Turo?” Adri asked. Niko brushed a hand through his wavy locks, his eyes on Adri, his grin growing again.

“Sure, we have at least another two hours before our boat is due back,” I replied, shooting him a brittle grin.

We picked up our towels and closed the umbrella, filled the tote bag, and piled it all in a mound on the mat. I put my tee on, Adri her coverup, and we followed Niko through the green brush on a short hike up past the narrow river to an expanse of land, where four men discussed and took photographs and noted measurements, planted small marker flags.

Niko explained his design plan, his hope for his resort to offer an alternate luxury vacation experience. Down to earth, but deluxe all the way. Adri told me that Niko’s family owned the most popular yoghurt company in Greece. So that was how you bought a huge plot of primo land on a beach on a Greek island and developed it into a luxury resort.

“I’ve always wanted to combine my passion for ecologically responsible living with a business,” Niko said. “My father is still trying to talk me out of it, mostly because he’s worried. Things are changing in Greece, he says. He’s even thinking of moving the company’s headquarters out of the country.”

“Really?” Adri said.

His gaze wandered over his expanse of green land. “But I don’t want to leave. This place to me is so special, the island, Áxla. Always has been. It’s always been my dream to do something here. I want to see this through. I have to.”

“Absolutely,” said Adri, her voice suddenly as firm and quiet as Niko’s as she scanned the valley.

I had to admit Niko’s vision was impressive, his dedication to create outside the box, to build on what his family had, to stick it out and do it on his own. “You should see it through,” I said. “Very impressive.”

Niko grinned. “Thank you.”

I glanced at my watch. “Adri, we should get back to the beach. The boat will be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Ah, already?” She let out a sigh and put her arm through Niko’s. They walked ahead of me on the trail back to the beach.

I ground my jaw at the sight of them arm in arm, talking and laughing easily. They were in sync. The perfect couple. My eyes fell to her sashaying hips and ass, and I tried my damnedest not to let that sight make me even crazier.

I lost that struggle.

33

Turo

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