Ivan grunts, jaw tight. The tension within him is palpable, and I can feel its subtle shift.
Our driver makes his way to the property, and a small Thai man dressed in blue silk meets him at the door. They have a short conversation, then our escort returns.
Ivan opens his door and steps out onto the driveway to speak to him. I wait in the car for instructions, unsure what to do. A few minutes later, Ivan opens my door.
“Amy,” he says, “they have guest accommodations we can use this evening until I get something sorted. It’s down on the beach. Do you want to come and see if you’d be happy there?”
“Of course,” I say as I undo my seatbelt. “I’m sure it will be perfect.”
As I step out, Ivan retakes my hand. He’s touched me constantly since we left the plane. Either his hand on my back or fingers wrapped in mine, it’s heartwarming and terrifying.
This was supposed to be a no strings attached relationship, but his actions say otherwise. There’s an intimacy there, one which reminds me of my ex-husband and the way he cared for me. It makes me nervous.
I’ve had my heart smashed to pieces before by a man who treated me beautifully. It could happen again.
The thought of a sexual relationship with limited feelings had been a welcome one. The fact I hated this man should have made it easier to have my needs met, but not require giving him control of my heart. But things are changing between us; I can feel it.
We follow the short man in blue silk through a stunningly manicured garden, amongst the perfectly pruned trees and along a shrub-lined twisting stone path. Every so often, flowers provide an explosion of pink or orange. At the very bottom, we step onto white sand.
“It’s just over here,” the man says, gesturing to a cluster of trees that block the view. I slip off my sandals; the sand wraps around my toes, burning a little. The sound of the waves lapping the beach is the only music.
“This doesn’t look very promising,” Ivan mutters. “It’ll be a bloody beach shack.”
“Oh, don’t be such a snob,” I whisper, punching his arm. “We can still have sex in a shed.”
“I thought you had higher standards, Ms. Corrigan.” He smirks and raises his eyebrows. “If I knew I could take you to Brighton and still get laid, I’d have saved myself a fucking fortune.”
“I wasn’t fucking you when you bought this trip,” I remind him. “I hadn’t decided if I was going to yet.”
He stops and kisses me softly; my lips part automatically, letting his tongue touch mine.
“Amy, both you and I know this is more than fucking.”
My brain misfires. I’m feeling it too, but never did I think he would admit it.
“I’m here with you because I want to create a life with you. Being without you isn’t even worth thinking about.” Tears fill my eyes. “I don’t do or go anywhere I don’t want to be.”
“Ivan, I—” He stops my words with a finger on my lips.
“Let’s go see our shed. You know how I feel. You can tell me how you feel once you’re ready.”
Our guide waits for us quietly by the trees. His eyes fixed on his toe tracing circles in the sand. “Come on,” Ivan says, wrapping an arm around my waist.
As we step around the leafy barrier, a rocky cliff appears. Cut into the sheer surface, there are two small windows and a narrow door. Ivan glances over, and I shrug my shoulders. Candles flicker in the windows, giving it a welcoming appearance.
“Is this the guest accommodation?” Ivan asks. Our guide nods. “A shed would have been better,” he mumbles.
“Don’t be such a spoilsport,” I whisper as we walk toward the small door in the gray rock.
Ivan pushes it open; he needs to duck not to hit his head. There’s a small step down into the cave house, and we both miss it. We stumble forward together, clutching at each other and laughing.
Inside is the quaintest space I’ve ever seen. The walls are bare rock coated in a clear lacquer, multicolored rugs sporadically hanging as decoration. A massive corner sofa drowns in eclectic cushions, filling the room, sitting on a deep pile blue rug. On my left, there's a small, clean, and modern-looking kitchen.
“Where’s the bedroom?” Ivan asks, and the man gestures to a gap in the rock.
Deep inside the cliff, with no windows or doors, is the bedroom. It’s surprisingly large, the hard surface cut away to give height to the space. A double bed sits as the central focal point, covered in brightly colored throws and cushions.
Behind it, a headboard extends up the wall to the ceiling, and intricate carvings of fruit and plants decorate the wood. Soft uplighters are built into the edges of the room, giving the space a warm glow.
