He nods. “And it’s still there.”
“How do you know this guy?”
“He…” Cian’s mouth twists and he scratches at his beard. Given how long it’s been since he could shave, it seems like it’sbothering him. “He was working with Saoirse on the rescue efforts to track down all the people trafficked by Domenico. He’s a good guy.”
That’s good enough for me. “Getting to Egypt with Interpol on our ass is going to be a challenge.”
“He said he could help with that too. He gave me details of a contact he has here who can get us across the water to Egypt.”
“Do you trust him?”
Cian’s eyes narrow and he shrugs one shoulder. “About as much as I trust you.”
Ouch.
25
CIAN
Two days after our escape, Faina and I finally get a chance to rest and recharge. A blazing sun bakes down from above, soaking the deck of our yacht in toasty, golden rays. Faina sunbathes several feet away from me and it’s painfully difficult to keep my eyes off her.
She reclines back with one leg bent at the knee and one arm tucked back behind her head as her skin takes on a darker golden tint. Wearing a white bikini with gold trim and metal hoops at her hips, the only thing that stands out is the fresh white bandage around her wrist. Her eyes are hidden behind gigantic sunglasses so I can’t tell if she’s awake, forcing me to keep my glances to a minimum.
But it’s difficult. Every day I’m reminded of how beautiful she is, and every day I face the twisted concoction of feelings sitting heavy in my chest. Love and lust mingle with pain and betrayal. Desire clashes with mistrust.
I love her. There’s no doubt in my mind that everything I felt for her back when our relationship was a secret and everything I feelfor her now is the same, maybe even more intense with it being the onlygoodfeeling in my heart.
But she lied to me.
She watched my entire world fall apart, she found me on the brink of giving up and still didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth. A Russian cop.
Does Anastasia know? Should I tell her? It wouldn’t do me any good now, but what about after?
After Hawkis a dream. There’s no guarantee I’ll even survive this which makes clinging to my upset feel weak and pointless. Why waste what could be our last few days together stewing in these feelings?
But try as I might, I can’t move past it.
Faina moves suddenly and my breath catches in my throat as I try not to stare, but it’s impossible not to. She leans up and grabs the bottle of sun lotion, then squirts a good amount onto her unbandaged hand. Then she lifts her other leg and very slowly starts spreading the lotion over her bare, golden thigh. Each stroke is slow and sensual and I can almost feel her warmth beneath my aching fingertips. The ghost sensation of a memory. Her hand moves down to her knee and then slowly sweeps back up to her hip. Just as her fingertips reach the pale crease of her hip, I stand abruptly and walk away.
My desire for her physically can’t overrule what I feel inside. It’s not fair to either of us.
But if I watch her any longer, then I’ll end up with a tent in my shorts and a weak explanation.
After checking in with the captain of the yacht who assures me we’re on course and making good time, I use his satellite phone to call my contact, Ollie.
“Hey Ollie, is now a good time?”
There’s some scuffling on the other end of the line before he speaks. “Yeah, sorry. Just had to wrestle a wire from out of my dog's mouth. Honestly, the fuck is wrong with these mutts that they think anything lying loose on the ground is chewable!”
“Can’t say I’ve ever run into that issue.”
“Yeah, well.” Ollie smacks his lips together and taps what sounds like a spoon. “How’s the yacht?”
“Way better than I expected.”
“The fuck? You think I’d have you traveling in some kind of tug boat?”
Leaning against the railing, I gaze down at the passing blue ocean being kissed by white foam as the yacht cuts through the water. “Honestly? Yeah.”
