“Thank you.” I could feel the weight of his stare on me all the way down the corridor.
As usual, theSS Florentiatook a long time to dock in the port of Tunis. I paced in my cabin, rolling the vial between my hands. All I had to do was wait for the right moment and sneak out of my cabin without Rennie being the wiser. It’d be the last time I sneaked out without telling him. I’d talk to Sandro, and that would be the end of it.
As my stomach groaned with nausea, I uncorked the vial and took a sip, my hands trembling with guilt and seasickness.
“Monia?” The knock on the door caused me to jolt, and I swallowed more green potion than I meant. Lord, it burned. I coughed and beat a fist against my chest, spitting green drops.
“Monia?” The voice belonged to Rennie, of course.
The potion was so sweet that I pulled out my tongue. The liquid burned all the way down to my stomach like strong sherry. I wiped my mouth with a handkerchief.
“Yes.” I put the vial in my pocket and opened the door, my stomach burning. I kept my distance from him and opened it only a crack, in case he could smell the green serum.
Tall and intimidating, he towered over me. “How do you feel? Do you really want to stay here? We’ve arrived in Tunis.”
My head spun. I didn’t have to fake the moment of dizziness that took me. “Yes. I prefer to stay here.” Even my voice sounded weak. Perfect. Or maybe not.
His posture slackened, as if he hadn’t expected my illness to be real. He craned his neck to look at me. “Do you want me to call the doctor?”
I pressed the handkerchief to my mouth. “No. I’ll stay in bed and rest. I’m sure I’ll feel better soon.”
“Do you want a cup of tea?”
“I’m going to sleep, so no, thank you.” Guilt would be the death of me.
He nodded, studying me. “I’ll come in later to see how you’re faring. I’ll bring you a repast and something to drink if you want.”
“No.” It came out too quickly. “I’m going to lock myself in and put a chair against the door as you told me. I just need some sleep.”
He eyed me again as silence stretched between us. “All right. Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will. Thank you.”
He gave a curt nod and left. I wouldn’t call him a friend, but I didn’t want him to be flogged nearly to death because of me. He might be brusque sometimes, but he was a good man.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered to his retreating figure.
I tottered to the bed, wondering if I should stay here for real. But I wanted to see Sandro, and I wanted answers. After half an hour, my head felt clear and my stomach stopped burning enough to allow me to stand without staggering.
The straw hat I donned covered half of my face, giving me some privacy. I chose a dull brown dress I hadn’t worn during the cruise so far. Hopefully, no one would pay me too much attention. Keeping my head down, I headed towards the main deck and the gangplank, blending in with the crowd of people eager to see Tunis. I loitered before leaving the ship as I waited for a large group of passengers.
Tunis stretched out in front of me with its sandy shore and gleaming white houses. A wall built with limestone slabs rose to the right, casting a shadow on the golden sand. As my dizziness subsided, I smiled at the lovely city. Coming here hadn’t been such a bad idea.
I gaped at the magnificently tall palm trees bordering the High Road. Signs in French and Arabic pointed out the names of palaces and ancient places. Even the scents filling the air were a combination of French and Arabic traditions. There was the rich, buttery smell of fresh croissants wafting out of a bakery, and the spicy fragrance of couscous cooked with meat.
Visiting a city on my own, without the hindrance of the giggling tourists and the shouting guide—or a sulky bodyguard—had its charms. I sat on a bench in a park and enjoyed the sunlight warming my skin, wondering how Sandro would find me. In Oxford, I wouldn’t be able to walk on my own without a chaperone. My parents wouldn’t allow it. But here, I could simply be myself. I closed my eyes and relaxed for the first time in days.
“May I join you?”
I would recognise Sandro’s musical voice in a yelling crowd in the middle of a storm.
I flung my eyes open and sucked in a deep breath. Sandro was standing in front of me, tall, dark, and as breathtakingly handsome as I remembered him. No, he was even more handsome than I remembered. He was divine. The man embodied every fantasy and dream I’d ever had of the perfect man for me, from the limpid blue of his eyes to the fine bones of his cheeks and his musical voice. He was simply perfect.
“Sandro,” I whispered, my pulse spiking.
He removed his tall hat, freeing the mop of dark hair that brushed his face. “I’ve been longing to see you again, sweet Monia.” He sat next to me, his gaze studying my face. A whiff of his citrus scent teased my nostrils. “My goodness, you’re so beautiful that I can’t breathe. May I hug you? I’ve dreamt of you so often.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tightly, burying my face in the crook of his neck. His skin was soft under my touch, and a sense of calm washed over me.
