“Me too,” I answer, already rising. “I’ll come with you.”
We walk up the beach in silence. The moon is casting everything in silver and highlighting Esmerelda’s features. For once, she’s not teasing me, and I’m not glaring. There’s no snark, no game, just the two of us walking side by side when we’d rather be anywhere else but here, weighed down by obligation.
At the start of the path leading to the hotel, she pauses and looks out at the water. Her voice is barely more than a whisper. “You didn’t have to come with me, you know.”
I don’t say anything. Not because I don’t want to. Because I don’t know what to say.
We head back into the hotel together, barely looking at each other. But there’s something there. Something crackling in the silence.
And it’s not going away.
Not tonight.
Not tomorrow.
Not ever.
7
ESMERELDA
They say time flies when you’re having fun, but what about when you’re forced to vacation with your sworn enemy and time still flies?
Despite missing Min and my family, the time does whizz by. I can’t remember the last time I truly had time away for some R&R. It’s just a pity the majority of that time was spent with Marcus, who hasn’t grown any less annoying as the days passed. Even the way he chews annoys me. I mean, seriously, who chews mashed potatoes?
The only time Marcus didn’t annoy me was when he was in wolf form and couldn’t speak. I snort at that as I stare out the window of the town car on our way to the airport. If I’m being honest, though, there were other times I didn’t find Marcus too annoying.
Like the times we went to the beach and he took his shirt off. I think my brain misfired during those moments, and I couldn’t be more annoyed if I tried.
Chiseled abs. Defined biceps that looked like they were molded from marble. The way his abs rippled whenever he caught me staring at him. Note to self: sunglasses are not an invisibility cloak.
There were also sweet moments, like when I stepped on a jellyfish and he carried me to the car, where he kept some or other remedy he’d concocted for exactly that. Or when he opened my door for me. Or pulled out my chair. In the beginning, he would mutter something about council spies hovering to make sure we did it right, but the lines on his face always seemed softer whenever he did those things for me.
Anyway, it wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be, so there’s that.
Next challenge…married life. Living with him for the rest of my days. An heir.
We pull up next to the jet, and Marcus rounds the car to open my door. He’s been as introspective as me during the ride over. I wonder if his experience was the same as mine.
The staff greet us as we walk over to Marcus’s private jet, his family crest proudly emblazoned on the tail. Oh wait… my family crest now too. That small thought has the breakfast burrito I had this morning clawing up my throat.
I board and head to the back of the plane. I heard somewhere that it’s the safest place to be in the event of an airplane accident. Somehow, it doesn’t seem to me that any place on an aircraft falling from the sky is safest, but I don’t feel like tempting fate today.
Within moments, we’re in the air, and my thoughts drift to more memories of the trip. Am I romanticizing certain things because I was so exhausted from the stress leading up to the wedding that a fruity drink and the sunlight on my face had me under a spell? Or am I getting soft?
I cut a glance at Marcus as he talks to the captain and can’t help but focus on his lips. His mouth is usually so turned down in disapproval that I never really noticed how full they are. Or how kissable.
Since the bonfire, we haven’t spoken about the sort-of-not kiss. We also haven’t been that close to each other for a mistakelike that to happen again. The thing is, I can’t help wondering what a kiss from Marcus, when intended, would be like. Not that I want a kiss from Marcus, but I want to be able to prove to myself that I was right about him being a wrung-out noodle with no fire or passion in him.
The pilot nods to me, and we get ready to depart. The cabin crew bring us some champagne and a small bowl of chocolate-covered raisins, which isn’t usually my thing, but I don’t want to be rude.
Marcus swivels his chair to face me. “Now that the honeymoon is over, I think we need to come up with a list of things we are prepared to share and things we won’t when we move in together. First things first, my office is off limits. You may not enter when I’m there or when I’m not there.”
I roll my eyes. Sure, it’s probably a good idea, but can’t he wait until we get home to be all business? Then again, this whole thing is a business arrangement, isn’t it? So, I don’t know why I care.
“Okay, fine. I haven’t thought of any rules yet. When I do, I’ll let you know. What I do want to know is, where are we going to live?”
He reaches into his laptop bag and retrieves a pen and notebook. “I’d like it if we lived at my family home. I already have my research set up there, and it will be an inconvenience to move everything.”
