She could swim that far. With desperation and frustration on her side, she could swim twice that distance.
Her gaze narrowed.
The urge to flee twisted in her gut like a rip current.
That boat was freedom. No expectations, no wedding talk, no mysterious secret Greek family alliances that suddenly had her grandfather and Alexandros’s mother and father chatting about guest listsand floral arrangements like they were co-planning the Royal Wedding.
Eleni had been absolutely glowing ever since Dani arrived. She mothered her like her own, brought her special tea for sleep and sweets for energy, and cooed every time Dani so much as coughed. There were three words to describe Alexandros’s mother: Sweet. Endearing.
And terrifying.
Especially when the words “spring wedding” and “off-the-shoulder lace” had floated out of her mouth last night at dinner.
No.
No, no, no.
Did she want to sleep with Eleni and Christos’s obscenely sexy youngest son?
Hell yes.
Did she want to marry him?
Hell no.
She was only twenty-one, still trying to figure out who she was without a wrench in her hand or saltwater in her hair. Marriage felt like a chapter she hadn’t even read the prologue for yet. Maybe in five or ten years—but not now. Not like this.
She bit her lip, still eyeing the trawler.
Could she do it? Swim out there? Before security caught her? It wasn’t that far…
She pictured herself climbing aboard, taking the wheel, disappearing around the bend like a sea ghost.
Just her and the horizon.
No overbearing Greek men. No pressure. No?—
With a dramatic groan, she flopped onto the sand like a beached starfish, limbs splayed, dignity optional.
The villa loomed above. The trawler rocked gently offshore.
Stay or run.
Want or need.
Her arms covered her face as she groaned into them. “I am losing my freaking mind.”
Because as much as she wanted to run…
As much as she needed to breathe…
She also wanted him.
Alexandros.
And she wasn’t sure which would break her first—running from him…
Or staying and never touching him.
