Part 23:

The wind carried his scent to her, salt and warm skin, and something darker she’d given up, pretending not to notice. It was too much to look at. She squeezed her eyes shut. Don’t look. Don’t think about him. Think about literally anything else. His hand came down on her knee. Are you scared? She opened her eyes.

He was already watching her close, the sun catching every fleck of dark navy. And there was something in the way he looked at her. a question that actually wanted the truth, that cared more about what was going on inside her right now than anything out on that water. Isabella swallowed, and the word came out of her barely louder than the engine. No.

His mouth curved slow, and there was nothing cold in it for once. Then, stop holding the boat. He took her hand off the side and set it against his waist against warm bare skin. Hold on to me. Beautiful. Beautiful. The word got under her skin so fast it made her angry. What made it worse was that she didn’t move her hand. She left it right where he’d put it.

The most dangerous man she knew, the one who’d threatened to bury her father two nights ago, had called her beautiful like it cost him nothing. and she let her palm stay against him while the island shrank behind them and the open water came rushing up to meet the boat. The cave opened around them slowly, the engine dropping to a low growl.

At first there was only shadow, wet stone, turquoise water glowing under the boat. Then the dark widened and Isabella saw it. A small white beach hidden inside the rock lit from a gap high above where the cliff opened to the sky. Oh my god. Her eyes went wide and bright, and the cool she had been holding on to all morning fell away in an instant.

She came up out of her seat without deciding to. I didn’t know this was here. It’s It’s beautiful. Oos watched the delight break across her face, and he smiled. Neither did I. He moved to the rope, looping it around an outcrop of stone. Found it this morning. Her eyes were still on him, so he added it quieter like it was nothing.

Thought you should see it. Isabella watched him knot the rope. There was something almost boyish in his face for a second. Not soft exactly, not harmless, just pleased, like he’d found something rare, and had thought of her before he could stop himself. This was the man who’d stormed her father’s house with armed men at his back, and he’d brought her here to the most beautiful thing on this whole coast, only to watch her see it.

She didn’t get her face under control in time. Aos looked up from the rope and caught all of it. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then he straightened. “Now we swim for it.” “No.” She crossed her arms over the thin dress. “I don’t have a swimsuit, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He came toward her across the deck, slow, enjoying himself.

“You’re going to let a dress keep you out of water like this?” She took a step back, gripping a fistful of the dress. “It’s not a swimsuit. Then we’ll ruin a dress. He was almost on her now. I’ll buy you a new one. She got as far as opening her mouth before his arms came under her and swept her clean off her feet. OS, stop.

I’m going to get soaked. The laugh was already in it, and she hated that it was. He went still with her, held against his chest, and looked down at her. You know, that’s the first time you’ve said my name. Isabella’s lips parted. Nothing came out. The corner of his mouth moved. “I wondered when you’d finally use it, and with her in his arms, he stepped off the side and took them both into the water.

Under the water, everything went blue and silent.” Isabella opened her eyes and found him already looking at her, his arms still wrapped tight around her, not because she was sinking, because he hadn’t let go. For one impossible second, there was no Veto, no Conti, no Anita, only his eyes open in the water, holding hers, and she wished, with an ache that scared her, that they could stay down here, beneath the surface, outside every name that had ever been used to own her.

“Let time stop,” she thought. “Let it be this, just the two of them down here, far from all of it, looking at each other like this. Let life be only this.” They broke the surface together, gasping. Aeros pushed the wet hair back off her face. That dress is fighting the water. She kicked back a stroke, treading water, and fired it right back at him. It’s a dress.

That’s what they do when a man throws you in the sea. His gaze moved over her, dark and amused. Then take it off. He let it settle. Or let it drown you. Your choice. She held his gaze and slipped one strap down, then the other, watching his face change by degrees. Aos didn’t touch her. Somehow that made it worse. The dress loosened in the water and drifted around her waist like a pale thing giving up.

She pushed it the rest of the way down, kicked free of it, and shoved the wet cloth against his chest. He grinned, white teeth flashing, peeled the wet dress off himself, and tossed it into the boat behind him. There she is. Isabella was already three strokes away. Race you, tough guy. Aos raised an eyebrow. I’ll give you five strokes.

She tossed it back over her shoulder. Generous. He almost laughed. Arrogant. You’ll survive. And she was gone, laughing, cutting through the turquoise with everything she had. He watched her go, the laugh trailing back to him over her shoulder, and something in him went painfully still.

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