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But having my mother there to be part of the event, small as it was, meant everything.
"Galina?"
I sit up; Arsen is standing in the doorway. He's replaced his robe with a loose button down the shade of palm-bark and long shorts that stop at his calves, showing off the thick muscles. He looks amazing in such a casual outfit with his hair still damp. "Sorry, I got distracted," I say.
"Can't blame you. Bed looks very comfortable." His eyebrows rise playfully. If I gave a hint of agreement, he'd jump on me right now. It's incredibly hard not to crook my finger at him and let him do it.
I nod at his outfit. "Let me get my clothes from the luggage. I can be ready to go out in ten."
"Take your time," he says.
"You don't mind?"
His smirk could saw a tree in half. "As long as I get to watch, you can take as long as you want."
Blushing, I allow him to help me pick what to wear. Arsen has me try on multiple outfits—I think mostly because he's enjoying seeing me take everything off each time—before settling on a flowing, thigh-high yellow strapless dress.
"You think this is the one?" I ask, turning side to side and playing with the pleats. Arsen rises off the bed, placing his hands on my hips. My blood becomes lava—I've been getting worked up putting on a show for him.
His eyes are half-hooded. "It'll be perfect for dancing in."
"Dancing?" I ask with a surprised laugh. "What kind of dancing?"
"My hands all over your body while you grind those beautiful hips of yours." He rocks mine for emphasis, and I exhale sharply. "Let's go before I decide to say fuck it all and throw you on this bed."
It's a challenge to leave the bungalow, but my growling stomach is dictating my needs.
Once we eat, I'll have plenty of energy to test that bed out with him.
Arsen wasn't kidding about the food.
Three massive buffets, all run by staff in chef coats who are either hand-cooking, carving, or serving dishes, stretch out on the beach. The sun has started setting, creating a hazy purple that morphs into the deep blue of the ocean. There are no waves, it looks like a pane of tempered glass.
On one side of the sand is a live band. They pound on their instruments, notes whistling in the evening air that's finally cooled down to a pleasant temperature. Other couples are eating, while some dance on the huge platform that's been set up to keep people from twisting their ankles in the sand.
"You made it!"
I turn, startled by the sight of our concierge Luke. He's wearing a casual, floral-patterned top with a deep V-neck and cargo shorts.
"Oh, hey," I say.
He looks at us, grinning. "When you didn't call me for anything after we left, I worried I'd upset you somehow."
"No, not at all!" I insist. "I swear I was just overtired before. I'm sorry, again, about how I acted."
His shrug is aloof. "I imagine you took a nap."
I hope he doesn't notice me blushing. "Yup." Something like that.
"Well, good!" He claps me on the shoulder the way a coach would do to a player at a sporting event. "Enjoy the rest of the evening. Don't miss the sunset, it's more stunning than any other in the world."
Once he's walked off into the crowd, I shake my head, turning in place. Arsen is behind me with a pair of purple-orange drinks. He's looking at where Luke went. "Everything okay?"
"Yes, he was just checking in." Taking one of the glasses, I sip from it to find an excuse not to keep explaining. "Wow, this is delicious! Hey, want to go check out the music?"
He keeps staring into the group of other people. "Yeah, okay."
Eager to escape the uneasy situation I power-walk to the stage. Half my drink is gone by the time I set my sandal-clad foot on top of the smooth wood. Arsen studies me with a frown that refuses to go away. "Try your drink," I suggest. Once he does, I take the glass, then set it and my own on the tray of a passing waiter. Arsen blinks warily, his confusion growing when I take his hands, pulling him deeper onto the stage. "You promised me we'd dance."
