“This place is unbelievable,” Nina says, sounding slightly stunned as her eyes lose themselves in the vast stretch of deserted sand before us.
Behind her, the sea breaks in an endless rhythm of coming and going, the sound of foamy water completing the almost idyllic setting of the private beach.
I feel the urge to take a picture of the woman whose hair is being tousled by the wind, along with the short, flowing white dress clinging to her body. I restrain myself—but her eyes lift to mine, catching me in the act.
“What?” she asks, that mischievous little smile on her face.
I close the distance between us and wrap my free arm around her waist, finally giving in to the urge that’s been pressing on my mind since Nina got into my car almost an hour ago: touching her. She tilts her neck back so her eyes don’t lose mine, despite the fact that I’m much taller.
“You’re beautiful.”
Her lips stretch into a full display of teeth as her skin takes on a light flush. It’s the first time I’ve seen someone feel both pleased and embarrassed by a compliment at the same time. Christ—she’s adorable.
“Then you can keep looking at me like that,” she declares, and I laugh.
“I have a better idea,” I murmur, lowering my head slowly and savoring every second before my lips touch hers—drinking in the sight of her face filled with anticipation.
Our mouths meet, and I realize my memory of the kiss hadn’t exaggerated a thing. I let her lead at first, and Nina is both eager and inexperienced at once. Her tongue searches for mine and wraps around it in a delicious caress before pulling away so her lips can kiss mine again and again.
I drop the picnic basket I was holding, letting it fall to the sand with a dull thud. I slide my newly freed fingers into Nina’s hair, tugging lightly, testing her response—and her low moan goes straight to my groin.
I push her head back against mine, deepening the kiss and taking full control, dominating her mouth with my tongue, exploring every corner with hunger, memorizing the details of her taste mixed with mine. When we pull apart, we’re both breathless, and the sensation of Nina’s breasts brushing against my chest with every uneven rise and fall of her breathing is intoxicating.
I slide my open hand to her face until my thumb grazes her red, damp lower lip.
“Was this what you planned for today? Because if it was, I’m not opposed,” she says, eyes still closed—drawing a laugh from me.
“No,” I reply, laughing. “But I promise everything I planned for today is just as good an idea as this.”
“I can’t believe the island is so small, and yet there are still parts of it I don’t know,” Nina says once we finish setting up the picnic and sit down on a blanket in the sand, her eyes sweeping over the beach again.
“A lot of Khione is private property,” I say, and she laughs.
“Almost all of Khione is private property,” she replies—and I can’t argue. Especially since most of it belongs to my family. “What do you do? I mean, I know you work for your family’s company and that you’re the cotton kings—but what do you actually do?”
“Cotton kings?” I ask, and she shrugs before picking up a peach from one of the containers in front of us and taking a bite. My gaze lingered for a few beats too long watching her sink her teeth into the fruit and lick her lips when some juice trails along them. Damn it. “It might sound vague, but I do a bit of everything.”
That makes her laugh.
“I’m pretty sure you don’t harvest cotton in the fields, Nero.”
“It’s been a while since the last time, but that doesn’t mean I never did.”
Her brows lift, then her eyes narrow.
“You harvested cotton?”
“For months,” I assure her. “It’s part of the Zanthos trainee program. Going through every department ensures that the executive—when he becomes one, of course—knows exactly how the company works, in detail. It’s a good strategy.”
I explain, and Nina goes quiet for a moment before biting her lip. Her eyes take on a mischievous glint, and my gaze immediately drops to the peach still in her hand.
“What?” I ask.
“I was just imagining your cotton-farmer version.”
The smile on her face when she says it is bold, and her cheeks warm.
“And how did your imagination paint me?”
