Page 187 of Dagger in the Sea

“Ah, and so you came to London?”

His gaze went to the model reproduction of the company’s first mega tanker encased in plexiglass. “Yes,” he said, his attention settling on me.

The silence between us crackled as we both drank each other in. Brisker, headier than any champagne.

My heart banged in my chest. “A haberdashery business? I know someone on Savile Row I could introduce you to—”

“No.” He stalked toward me.

He got closer. That cologne of his wafted over me and my knees quivered, my insides tightened.

“Ah, you’re opening a pub or a teahouse in Chicago and need to research the real thing?”

He shook his head, his eyes narrowing. “No.” He stood before me, so close I could sense his body heat.

“Fish and chips?” I breathed.

He scented me, carefully, with his whole being. An animal taking in his mate. “You. You, Adri.”

My lips parted, no words came out.

“You came to the airport in Athens and told me you loved me,” Turo said. “You gave me that gift freely, not asking for anything in return, knowing you might never see me again. Your gift kept me warm and sane and inspired in that darkness.”

I reached out and cupped the side of his face. “I’m glad,” I whispered, my heart thundering in my chest.

He brushed my hand with his lips. “Now the time for battle and grieving is done,” he breathed. “You told me in that castle in Andros that you’ve always believed in love. I believe now, too. You made me believe. I love you, Adriana Lavrentiou.”

My breath shorted, my hand slid down to his chest to steady myself, to touch him. He covered it with his own, connecting us, and his warmth bolted through me.

“We shouldn’t be separated by continents, an ocean, a sea. We should be traveling them together,” he said.

His words rushed and swirled like a living, breathing thing between us. Expectation, anticipation, possibility.

My throat burned.

He tilted his head at my non-reply. “Maybe your parents already have a royal prince lined up for you?”

“That was the year before last,” I stuttered.

“Ah. Maybe now you’re dating an age appropriate Greek shipping heir?”

“No, no. Been there, done that, as you Americans say.” I touched the seam of his lapel. “There’s no one else. How could there be?”

The edges of his lips tipped up but the grin quickly faded into something almost delicate and shattering. He took my hand in his and placed a small, leather, purple box in my palm. “A gift for my lady.” A box embossed with Alessio’s medieval double “A” logo in gold on the top.

My heart knotted in my chest. “What’s this? The conqueror’s bargain?”

“A declaration. Especially designed for you.”

I snapped open the box, and my eyes flared at the spectacle in my hands. A ring. A ring unlike any other. A raw aquamarine stone, and wrapped around it as the band and setting was a gold dagger.

“Turo…”

“You told me that your great-grandfather threw his lover’s precious dagger in the sea because he had to let go and move on.”

“Yes.”

“Because the battles he’d fought and won with that dagger were finally over. But unlike Stefanos and Natalia, we aren’t lost to each other,” he said.

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