Damian nodded, eyes sweeping the horizon.
“Is the artifact safe in the limousine?” I asked.
“We have three armed guards. Even I wouldn’t dare to get past them. I’d trust those men with my life.”
“I still can’t believe the Phoenix pendant is real. It feels like holding a piece of history in our hands.”
“We are.”
“And what do you plan to do with it now?”
“I need to think it over carefully,” Damian said after a pause. “I’ll probably unveil it at a gala—invite the biggest sharks in the business.”
“Just imagine their faces.”
“It will be a grand night. And you, Daisy, are the guest of honor.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m not.”
Damian stopped in front of me. “No?”
I arched a brow. “What?”
“Daisy,” he said, deliberate, “I think you still don’t see it. The glory isn’t mine. It’s yours. You found it.”
“But I’d feel uncomfortable being paraded like that. I don’t want it.”
“I could just mention your name. You wouldn’t even need to step onstage.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.” His tone was firm. “We’ll need to get you a dress tomorrow. This is an important evening. A lot is at stake for me.”
“I understand,” I murmured, letting my gaze drift across the wide beach, the calm waves, the golden light. The setting sun wrapped the world in warmth, turning the moment almost unreal. It had been so long since I’d swum in the sea. I wanted to feel it against my skin again.
“Turn around,” I said, half serious, half playful.
Damian’s eyebrow lifted, but he didn’t move.
“Come on. I mean it, Damian. Please.”
An amused flicker touched his lips, and he obeyed.
I slipped the straps from my shoulders in one motion. My light summer dress slid down and pooled in the sand. For a moment I stood bare, the breeze brushing across my skin. Then I ran—the sea calling me.
The first waves curled around my feet, a cool embrace welcoming me.
“You can look now!” I shouted back. Floating onto my back, I let myself drift, eyes fixed on the sky as it deepened into a darker blue. The sea washed over me, carrying away weight, carrying away fear.
Damian stood unmoving, carved from stone. I savored the water against my skin, the sharp salt on my lips. Slowly I swam to shore. By the time I reached the sand, I was trembling. Droplets slid down my thighs, my ribs, my collarbone. I was naked. Nothing stood between us but a few meters of sand.
Yet he didn’t look. Instead, he closed his eyes—calm, controlled—and pulled off his shirt. Without a word, he handed it to me, that composed restraint that always threw me off balance. A slight twitch flickered at the corner of his eye. Then, one blink. His left eye cracked open just enough to catch me.
A grin tugged at my lips. “Cheater.” I wrapped myself in his shirt, still warm from him, pulling it tight. “You can open your eyes now,” I whispered, meeting his stare.
In one swift movement, he lifted me into his arms and carried me through a narrow passage between the rocks. The sound of the surf followed us until we reached a hidden cove. He set me down gently, stripped off his pants, and slid beside me. His skin against mine felt like fierce, needed warmth. My fingers tangled in his hair, desperate for the texture. He caught my wrists and pinned them above my head, his grip unyielding as shackles.
A shadow passed over his face—eyes dark and demanding, like a storm about to break. He paused, utterly still, as if something inside held him back. I felt the shift—the tension lodged not only between us but inside him.
