Page 88 of Dagger in the Sea

My dueling partner’s haggard, pale face flashed before me, his wails echoed in my ears, and I took in air, pressed my hands to my eyes, willing him away. Away, dammit.I’m the one who made it out of that room alive. That’s what fucking counts.

“Turo? Are you all right?”

“Yeah, just a headache. Too much coffee.”

Her hand pulsed at the back of my neck. “Do you want to leave? Go to a hotel so you can rest? Is the sun too much—”

“No, baby.” The back of my throat burned the second that endearment spilled from me. “I just need to unwind. This is perfect. Really.”

“You must tell me if—”

“I’m good.”

“Lay down. I’ll rub your back.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Turn over.”

The pointed tone in her tigress voice ticked at me, nudging at my pulse. I turned over, chest down in the lounger. She kneeled in the sand next to me and rubbed ribbons of cool sunscreen into my muscles, her thumbs kneading my lower back. Heat radiated from her intense touch, dissolving the bunching, the aches.

“Damn yes. Right there,” I muttered, my body surrendering to her skilled hands.

“Hmm.” She slid her hands just under my waistband above my ass, and I clenched my muscles on reflex.

She let out a soft laugh. “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything inappropriate.”

I really wish you would.

She worked my shoulders, my back, and my suddenly heavy eyes closed, bidding farewell to the sight of her tits straining in that bikini top. Her fingers raked through my hair, my scalp tingling in their wake, and I drifted. Drifted on the scent of brine and the swish of the sea and the tigress’s warm, insistent touch.

* * *

I blinked.

“Hello.” A pretty face filled my vision.Adriana. Turquoise water, foamy waves, smooth round white rocks. Pink and orange flip-flops.

I sat up. “Was I asleep?”

“You were. Is it so unusual?”

“I never take naps.”

“You’re not in Chicago, Turo.”

No, I wasn’t.I took in a breath, scanning the impossibly beautiful shoreline. Greece, island, gorgeous girl.

Adriana slid a purple paisley tunic over her bathing suit. “Are you hungry? I thought we’d go to thetavérnato eat.”

“Yeah, starving actually.” I tugged my T-shirt on.

Adri filled a small purse with her car keys, wallet, and cell phone, and we headed for the restaurant where a young man greeted us. She chose a table by the railing facing the sea, and he spread a paper tablecloth over the cloth one, clipping it in place, leaving a menu behind which Adri ignored. Did anyone ever look at a menu in this country?

Another, older man rushed out and greeted her loudly. He was thrilled to see her. The Greek double kisses were exchanged.

“Turo this is Thanási. Thanási, Turo.”

Thanási’s wavy dark hair fell in his bright blue eyes. “Welcome to Vitáli.”

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