As much as I want to stay upstairs and hide, I know he will come and get me. I walk downstairs slowly, each step deliberate, the heels clicking on the marble. I'm ready for a fight. I have a whole speech prepared about how degrading this is. Kairo is waiting at the bottom of the stairs, but when he hears me, he looks up and stops. His hand is on the banister, his eyes moving from my face down my body and back up again. His lips part, and I notice the rapid rise and fall of his chest with each breath.
"You look beautiful," he says. His tone is something I haven't heard before, not commanding nor threatening, but as if he is inawe. The fight dies in my throat because the way he is looking at me gives me flutters. I walk past him without a word because I don't trust what will come out of my mouth.
“Hey,” he says, grabbing me and pulling me back to him. He reaches out and pinches my chin, making me look up at him. “You take my breath away,” he confesses. My brows pull together. The way he is looking at me gives me goosebumps, and I don’t like it. “I am the luckiest man in the world to have such a hot wife.”
He doesn’t mean that. I struggle out of his hands, and he gives me a look of confusion.
“Did you say that to the woman tattooed on your arm, too?” I raise a brow at him.
It takes him a moment to catch up, but then he smiles widely. “Yes, I did.”
I’m surprised. “Guess your words mean nothing then,” I say, throwing my hair over my shoulder.
“Fuck, your jealousy is a turn on.” He chuckles.
“I’m not jealous, keep dreaming.” I huff as I storm off from him, not exactly sure where we are supposed to be going. He places his hand on the small of my back and guides me out of the villa, down the stone path, past the pool, to a dock I didn't know existed. It’s hidden by palm trees and tucked into a small inlet. A luxury yacht sits in the water, not massive but sleek, white, glowing with soft lights strung along the deck. Music plays from somewhere inside, low and warm.
He helps me aboard with his hand lingering on my waist a beat too long, and I let it. The deck is set for dinner, a table for two at the stern, white linen, candles in glass holders to block the breeze, and champagne already chilling. The ocean stretches out in every direction, black and glittering under the early stars, there's nowhere to go out here.
"Sit," he says, pulling my chair out.
I sit. The fabric of the dress shifts against the seat, and I feel it everywhere. He pours us both champagne, sits across from me, and watches me intensely the way he always watches me, like I'm the only thing in the world worth looking at. I don’t like it.Liar.I take a sip and let the bubbles settle my nerves. I lean forward, forgetting the deep V in the dress, and I don’t realize I’m exposing my breasts until I notice his eyes drop to my chest and his jaw flexes.
"See something you like?" I raise a brow at him.
His eyes come back to mine. "Always."
"You know this dress is basically see-through."
"I'm aware. I chose it."
"Did you choose it so your staff could see everything too?" I glance toward the cabin where a figure moves behind the glass.
"They can look." His voice drops. "They can't touch. There's a difference."
A staff member appears to serve the first course, a man I haven't seen before. He's young, maybe my age, tanned, with dark hair, and strong arms. He sets the plate down in front of me, and his eyes flick to my chest for half a second before he catches himself and looks away. I catch it, though, as does Kairo. Butterflies shift in my stomach, the tattoo flashes through my mind, the Greek letters, the name of a woman who means the most to him, the way he shut me down when I asked. I look at the waiter when he comes back with the bread, and I hold his gaze a beat longer than I should.
"Thank you," I say, placing my hand on his. I let my voice soften, and the waiter's eyes widen slightly as he nods and retreats.
Kairo's champagne glass pauses halfway to his mouth, those amber eyes darkening.
Oh, that got a reaction. This could be fun. Give him a dose of his own medicine.
The waiter comes back to refill the champagne, and I touch his wrist when he pours, just a brush of my fingers against his skin. "What's your name?" I ask.
"Nico, ma'am." He glances nervously at Kairo.
"Nico." I smile at him. "Tell the chef this food is incredible."
"I will, ma'am."
I can feel Kairo's stare burning into the side of my face. I don't look at him, I keep my attention on Nico as he tops up my glass. "Have you worked on the island long?"
"Summer." Kairo's voice cuts through the warm night air like a blade.
I turn to him innocently. "What? I'm making conversation."
His amber eyes are flat and dark, and the warmth from when he called me beautiful at the bottom of the stairs is gone.
