Page 63 of The Cruiser
“Um … Let me check the schedule. Can I confirm later?”
I swat away a pesky fly. “How busy can you be? Take ten minutes. It seems like you don’t want to meet her.”
“Okay, okay,” he says, reticently. “I’ll be there at one.”
I hang up, my mind bouncing in ten different directions. Vandana, the Delmars. The award. Possibly Khaled. The best week of my life, so far. As crickets start to chirp in the long grasses and shadows start to lengthen, the only other shadow infiltrating my triumphs is a thought that percolates up from last night. To put my mind at ease, I make one more call before turning the phone off. I wish we could stay here for days. Revel in each other, getting drunk on wine and the possibility of more. At the very least, tonight can stretch out. This afternoon went down in a hurry.
I sneak back inside, sit on the landing, and watch her slumber. Eventually, her internal radar picks up on my presence.
She rolls over, blinks, and covers a yawn with her hand. “Hi.”
“Good evening.”
In spite of how I left her, swollen and chafed, a smile spreads on her face. “Please don’t tell me we have to leave?”
“Not yet.”
Shadows and light dance across the mountain range, and she’s transfixed with the interplay. “This place is pure heaven,” she says, her voice thick with sleep and sex. “Thank you for bringing me here.” Her gaze sweeps back to me, with my elbows on my knees, chin resting in upturned hands. “You’re staring again.”
“I can’t help it. You’re my Italian dream.”
She props herself up on both elbows and the duvet slips enough to reveal dark, puckered nipples, the taste of them still fresh in my mind. And so sensitive. “I feel like I have pillow face,” she says, patting her flushed skin. And, after licking her lips, “And major wine mouth.”
“Glass of water?”
“Please,” she laughs. “The biggest glass you can find.”
After fetching it, I sit beside her on the bed, watching her swallow with thirsty gulps. It’s different now that I’ve seen her come undone. She’s been so put together, but this wild tumble into unabashed naughtiness is a permanent game changer.
“Thank you,” she says, cuffing a drip of water off her chin. “How much time do we have?”
I take the glass out of her hand and stroke her hair, fine strands like silk falling through my fingers. “We can stay until late but should be back in Monaco tonight. We’re meeting the Delmars for lunch at the Yacht Club tomorrow. Frankie texted me.”
She beams. “Wow, Morgan. That’s great news.”
“For now, I suggest a leisurely bath, some food for energy and not letting this bed go to waste.”
“Look at you, organizing. Although maybe…” With a misbehaving smile, her finger winds down my torso, wreaking all sorts of havoc below. “We can tackle that list in a different order.”
I strip out of the robe to join her wonderful, warm body. We cuddle into the pillows, lying on our sides to face each other. All that carefree hair and smudged eyeliner makes her even sexier. Lavender and pine, the sweet smell of us, I inhale all of it.
“It’s impossible not to be seduced by this place,” she says.
“I will confess, I hoped the magic might work its charms.”
“I wouldn’t count your charms out entirely.”
I kiss the tip of her nose. “Two compliments in one afternoon. I’m on a roll.”
Her hand finds mine under the duvet, fingers twining with a tight grip. Wide and dark with vulnerability, her eyes latch onto mine. The flesh of her throat pulses with a hard swallow. “I’ve never done anything like this,” she whispers.
“Could have fooled me.”
Her knee jabs me under the covers. “That’s not what I meant.”
Filtering her intentions, I understand the raw concern left behind. She’s crossing a line for me, a client, and stepping into the unknown. But I try to keep it light because I’m in foreign territory as well. It’s too soon to frame us, to put a name to something that isn’t nameable, but Vandana and I, we can move mountains together.
I know it.
