Page 94 of Dagger in the Sea

“Don’t think you could take anymore?”

“There are children present. If I hear anymore, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

I spotted the pink band in the beach bag, grabbed at the fabric and dangled it in front of her. “For a kiss.”

Taking in a breath like she was prepping for a dare, she sat up and pressed her bare tits against my chest, her tongue sliding past my lips. A part of me rose from that lounger and floated above that straw beach umbrella, that perfect shore. Cool and soft, slithering and hot. My every wet dream fantasy of her had been fulfilled.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

My fingers released the bikini top; I was powerless before her. She’d rendered me so.

Adri nabbed the top from me and pushed away like she was done for the time being. She held my gaze as she quickly and efficiently smoothed the top back on her chest, my cock hardening fiercely. Men are such suckers.

I rose from the lounger and dove into the cold, clear sea. I came up for air, and Adriana was sitting still, gnawing at her lip, staring at me, eyes intent.

Fuck you, Alessio Aliberti. She’s mine.

26

Adriana

After our dayswimming at Vitáli, Turo and I had gone back to Batsí where we’d checked in to a boutique hotel on the outskirts of the village. The villa which looked like an old Andrian stone fortress rose impossibly from a high cliff that towered above the sea.

Turo had already showered and dressed and showed up at my room, his body seizing at the sight of me wrapped in a bath towel fresh from my shower. My skin got a lashing from those light-coloured eyes, but I couldn’t pay the prickles along my flesh any mind.

“Yes,Mamá, I heard what you said,” I replied to my mother who’d called me. I only shook my head at Turo as a grin overtook his features. He headed out to the terrace of my room.

I’d told Mum how Turo and I had come to Andros and she’d been pleased. I knew this because she didn’t barrage me with questions, only uttered an “Ah” in her sharp tone which implied approval on reserve, will ask questions at a later date.

“I need to go now.”

“Mmm.Prósexe, agápi mou,” she signed off.

Why was everyone telling me to be careful? I was the Queen of Careful and Hesitant, and they knew it.

“Love you,” I said and clicked off.

I towel-dried my hair. My handful of moisturizer skimmed over my scar. The scar that wouldn’t heal.

You won’t let it.

I pulled on a short sleeved cropped blouse, and my copper and teal colored harem trousers with slits up the sides; my favorite kind of warm weather casual clothes. Rubbing a few drops of conditioning oil in my hair, I peeked out the terrace door.

Purple bougainvillea wrapped up and over the stone archways and the columns of the veranda. Flowery plants burst in a frenzy of fuchsia from bulbous pottery urns on the edges of the terrace overlooking the sea. Iron and glass lanterns with small candles dotted the marble table and larger ones stood on the patio floor. In the corner was a large divan upon which Turo was now stretched out.

His eyes closed, the thickness of his long, full eyelashes obvious. His chest rose and fell with the shallow breathing of sleep, an arm folded under his head. He’d given in to the insistent music of the waves slapping against the rocks down below, the cool mountain breeze brushing his skin, and his own fatigue—or was it the shock of sudden relaxation?

Something curled inside me at the sight of him at rest. The plains of his handsome face which were usually pulled tight in thought—his brand of grim thought and brittle wit—were relaxed for once. More often than not he looked tense, ready to spring, his mind constantly working, rapid firing, charging.

My gaze trailed over his dark trousers and his long sleeved, pale blue cotton shirt with the cuffs rolled up; the city boy’s concession to the warm weather? Turo wasn’t a T-shirt kind of man. That was only for sport and the beach.

I brushed on a bit of bronzer, then a smudge of eye pencil, a dash of mascara. I was a far cry from the glam, expensively dressed girl Turo had first met in Athens. I stared at the woman looking back at me in the mirror. I liked this Adri much better. This was me.

Sliding on my beaded leather sandals, I went back out onto the terrace and perched on the edge of the divan so as not to disturb Turo. I’d finally told him the truth about me and Alessio. A fake relationship that served a purpose; casual fun with a close, trusted friend which was also a form of self-protection since the horror of that day two years ago.

Taking in a breath, I leaned back against the stiff bolster pillow of the sofa. Back then the press had had a field day with me and my first love, tore us apart and built us back together like a Lego castle. But they hadn’t gotten the parts right. Their castle was crooked and ugly, pieces missing. And it had taken me a long, long time to simply sail past the hideous structure and not let it rip at me. You could ignore it all you wanted, but you always knew it was there.

Being with Alessio helped. He’d been good to me, but I couldn’t see out of our little aquarium any longer. The glass was cloudy and smudged and I’d curled up in a corner. Not Alessio though. Alessio dove out into the sea then dove right back into our glass haven when he was done. He’d been in several relationships since our arrangement had begun. It was easy for him.

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