Page 78 of Mafia Obsession

I gasp, seeing a man in one of the boats holding a rifle. But he’s facing the other way. Then there’s another one. They’re forming a perimeter.

Guards.

This beauty comes with bars you can’t see.

If Ares needed this many men to keep me safe, does he think David or his boss can reach me here? Or is someone else hunting me?

What if this was a setup? What if those aren’t his men and they are just securing a perimeter for his enemy to motorboat up to the Ananke and take it?

Take…me.

What if…

My thoughts are cut off by a huge splash as Ares hops back up onto the swimming platform. I want to ask him about the guards, but I’m distracted. All wet with seawater sluicing down his tawny skin, he’s a freaking calendar model.

“How long?” he asks, climbing back to the stern seating area.

“What?”

“The timer?”

I look down. “Oh… Three minutes!”

He pounds his chest. “Felt like five.”

“And?” I hand him the watch. “What did you see?”

“An anchor dragged across a volcanic shelf. It tore througha seagrass bed and disrupted the underwater filtration. That’s a breeding ground for half the fish in these waters. If it keeps happening, the population drops. When the fish go, everything shifts.” He hands me a piece of cracked stone.

Already dry, it flakes in my palm.

Ares cups my hand underneath. “That pale sediment dust suggests how fragile the ecosystem is.”

“And you care about fragile things.”

“I protect fragile things.” He lifts my chin. “But you’re not fragile, are you?”

“I don’t feel fragile with you. Yet you’re ten times more dangerous than my husband. How is that possible?”

“I’m man enough toempoweryou.” He moves in close. “Pigs like your husband overpower.”

I can’t help but feel that calling David a pig is some kind of poor reflection on me. I want to tell Ares about the pregnancy and that David wasn’t this awful when we married in Chicago. But then I have to give away secrets I need to keep for my sister’s sake.

So, I let it go.

He looks about ready to say more, but then he narrows his eyes on my shoulders. “You’re starting to burn.”

That’s an understatement.

“I didn’t bring any sunscreen.”

Ares confidently reaches into a cubby and takes out a pale blue bottle of SPF 50. Like he already decided this would happen.

Inevitability…

His warm hands smooth lotion along my shoulders around the straps of the halter sundress, slow and deliberate.

Not rushed. Not unsure.