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“Thank you,” she said, fighting the urge to cover herself.
She’d purchased the bikini online, along with a few other beachy things like a cover-up and her sandals. It had arrived the day before they left, so she’d only tried it on for the briefest of seconds. Now, on reflection, it was skimpier than it had looked on the website’s model.
Very skimpy. The romance-novel heroines would be proud.
The white cups were slim, allowing some cleavage and decent side-boob action. And the bottom barely covered the little triangle of dark hair that she’d trimmed herself in the privacy of her own bathroom, after chickening out of attending a waxing appointment. All the necessary bits were hidden away, but everything else was on show.
Her eyes drifted up to Nico. The impish amusement and cocky smirk were long gone. In their place was an open flame, burning bright and intense and calling her to stick her hand out so she could be scorched.
“Wow,” he breathed.
Marianna had no idea how to respond. She could only watch as his large hands toyed with the knot at his waist. His legs were dusted with the same dark hair as his chest. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought she would find appealing. But the hairs only served to highlight his muscular thighs and calves, the mouth-watering lines of his body.
And…oh. Marianna gulped at the way his boardshorts hugged his trim waist and the rather large-looking bulge beneath it.
Just breathe. In, out, in, out.
Oh god, that was not a motion she needed to fixate on right now.
“The water should be warm,” he said, holding out his hand.
She allowed him to lead her to the ocean. The waves lapped at her, making the sand suck her heels down. It was so picturesque and romantic and everything she’d dreamed of when she fantasized about this trip in her head.
“Ready?” he asked.
No. Yes. Maybe…yes.
“Mm-hmm.” She nodded with a stiff smile before taking her first step. The water was indeed warm, perfectly so. “It’s lovely.”
“As are you,” he said, his eyes roaming her openly.
Was this what it was like to feel wanted? To feel desirable? Marianna worried that this would be like taking a hit of a highly addictive drug. That after today she would not feel sated. She would want more and more and more.
She waded in until the waves lapped at her ribs, and then she pushed forward, trying to swim as gracefully as she could while keeping her head above water. Working her arms and her legs, she turned so she could watch Nico swimming behind her. Water ran in rivulets over his body, dotting his broad shoulders and strong arms and turning his hair even more impossibly black.
“How do you get any work done with this right outside your door?” she asked. She was treading water now, letting her body become one with the ocean.
“Is it terrible for me to say that sometimes I forget it’s here?”
“You shouldn’t take these kinds of things for granted.” She looked around. “If I lived here, I’d be on the beach every single day.”
…
Nico watched Bianca/Marianna enjoying the waves, jumping up to catch each foamy crest of blue as it rushed toward the shoreline. Her joy and delight stirred up old feelings. He’d been like that too, once. Wide-eyed, excited, and hopeful.
These days he couldn’t even remember what if felt like to look at anything with wonder.
On the beach, one of his staff members set down a picnic basket on their towels. He’d requested some fresh fruit, pastries, bread, and cheese. A little wine.
“Is that what I think it is?” Her head snapped toward him, a delighted smile on her lips.
“Sustenance,” he confirmed. “No rush…unless you’re on a deadline?”
She shook her head. They eventually made their way back to the beach after spending more time floating and swimming. With each minute that passed, Nico found himself increasingly captivated by this Australian woman. She was sweet and seemed genuine—something he didn’t encounter too often these days.
“So you’re a language student, huh?” he asked as they walked out of the surf, sand immediately sticking to their legs and feet. “What made you choose that field of study?”
She chuckled. “My family was always really strict about swearing. Back then, my older brothers would give me hell if I said anything bad.”
“You learned another language so you could swear?” He shook his head and laughed.
“Very mature, I know. But I found it fascinating to see how words changed from one language to the next.” They dropped down to the towels, and she brushed the sand from her legs. “One of my favorites is a German expression. Du Lauch! It means ‘you leek,’ like the vegetable.”
Nico grinned. It was such a silly thing, but the thought of this sweet, fresh-faced woman swearing like a sailor in multiple languages made him very happy. “I wonder what leeks ever did to the Germans.”
He unpacked the food prepared by his chef—fresh pita, strawberries and figs from the garden, honey, a slab of cheese, some kourabiedes.
“I have way more where that came from. In Danish, røvbanan literally means ‘ass banana.’”
