Too concerned I’ll babble incoherently if I try to speak right now, I wordlessly sprint across the warm sand and wade into the cool waves. The contrasting temperatures feel glorious on my skin, and it shocks the stupidity out of my brain. I’ve seen toned bodies before. I shouldn’t be acting like it’s the first time I’ve seen a six-pack.
I dive under the water, determined to put Marcus and hisverydefined body out of my mind. When I resurface, I turn on my back and float on the shimmering water. Closing my eyes against the glaring sun, I allow the weightlessness to free my mind from the uncertainty of my future with Marcus.
I float like that for a while before I dive back into the waves, playing the childhood game my brothers and I used to play where we counted the waves. Supposedly, the strongest wave is the seventh wave. I don’t really believe that anymore, but it’s hella fun. I get lost in splashing around in the crisp, salty water,feeling freer than I have in the last month. When wave number five comes in like a tidal wave, it knocks me off my feet and sends me sprawling onto the shore. I lift my head out of the water and start laughing my head off. I have sand absolutely everywhere.
I stand, my hair covering my face and spluttering water as I giggle. Brushing the hair from my face, I look to see if Marcus noticed my flub and find him all but glaring at me. What the hell is his problem? He shakes his head and looks down at his screen. Is pretty boy offended by fun? Whatever, fuck him. He can keep reading, I’m here to have a good time.
A notion he probably knows nothing about.
6
MARCUS
We arrive back at the hotel after an afternoon of silence. A sharp contrast to what I’d hoped was Esmerelda finally warming up. It’s all or nothing with her, and I can’t say which I prefer. Neither of us utter a word. It’s like we’ve mastered the art of pretending the other doesn’t exist. Esmerelda sees a cat in the bushes, and without a word to me—and about a thousand crooning words to the cat—she makes a beeline for it.
The second I’m inside the suite, I make my way to the desk and sink into the wingback chair that is more stylish than it is comfortable. I need to check in on business. See the numbers, reports, updates. Anything to feel like I have a grip on something.
I open the laptop and stare at my reflection on the black screen before booting up. I look as perfectly put together as I always do, but on the inside, my thoughts are a tangled web of frustration and confusion. Tasting blood, I suck in a breath and yank my thumb away from my mouth. Disgusted with myself, I shove both hands in my pockets. I hadn’t even known I waschewing the skin around my thumbnail. And it pisses me off. Habits like that are a sign of weakness. And in my world, weakness is a death sentence. Especially now, when the council is watching our every move.
When the screen clicks on, I hesitate. If I get caught working on our honeymoon, and some council snake slithers back with a report, it won’t look good.
From the corner of my eye, I see Esmerelda kick off her sandals and slip through the glass door, humming under her breath. She probably fed every stray cat on the island.
Again.
On her way past me, she stops and taps her manicured nail on the desk. “I’m going to shower; do you want to take a piss before I use the bathroom?”
I flinch. Gods, she’s as abrasive as barbed wire against lace. If I wasn’t already repulsed by nearly everything about her, that alone would do the trick.
“No, thank you.” My tone comes out clipped.
She shrugs and walks off without a care in the world. Screw it. Let them report me. If the council had to share a room with her, they’d understand. Hell, they’d probably feel bad for me.
Time blurs as I work my way through my emails. I technically don’t need to do a thing since Leonard is taking care of things back home, but despite how much I trust him, my skin feels way too tight at the thought of not being in control.
I’m so lost in work, I don’t even notice when she returns until her voice slices through my concentration. “Did you move my brush from the bathroom?”
I look up, straightening slowly as I turn my aching neck from side to side. My lower back protests against the movement. This workstation is obviously only here for show. I turn toward the door, the tension in my body ratcheting up when my eyes land on Esmerelda.
Goddess help me.
She stands there in a thin white towel that barely clings to her. Water glistens on her skin, catching the light like a thousand tiny diamonds. Her hair drips down her shoulders, dark and wild. And her skin… Gods, her skin looks soft enough to ruin me. My mouth dries, and I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek. It won’t do if my jaw drops.
I will not lose focus just because she’s showing some skin. She’s dangerous. She’s the enemy.
But my body doesn’t give a damn.
I’m yanked back to the beach. Reading was near impossible, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her strong body cutting through the water. When the wave caught her by surprise and all but spat her out of the ocean, I was mesmerized as she stumbled out of the waves like a siren, her long hair clinging to her, her laugh like music as it traveled across the beach to me. I found it admirable that she could laugh at herself—something that surprised me, as she always seemed so serious. But my admiration was short-lived as the realization that I was attracted to a murderer hit me like cold water on a frigid night. And much like now, I was caught staring at her. I hope she doesn’t realize I’m getting hard.
“Well?” she demands. “Did you move my brush?”
I give myself an inward shake and slam my laptop shut.
“I did not.” My tone slices through the air, and I’m sure I’m glaring at her like I did this afternoon.
She glares back, eyes narrowing. Then she scoffs, turns, and disappears, slamming the bedroom door so hard it reverberates through the suite. I scrub a hand over my face and lean over, resting my arms on my knees. I need to get it together. I’m tired. Sun-drunk. Yeah, that’s probably it.
It’s like…emotional beer goggles.
