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CHAPTER EIGHT
THEREWASAcrackling fire burning beneath his skin, and he found it unconscionable.
True to her word, Minerva had been scarce the entire day.
When he peeked into the nursery, he saw that a great many of Isabella’s items were gone, and he thought that it might be true that she had tramped off to the beach intent on staying there for the day.
Which meant that he would simply stay in the house and work. As she had said.
Dante had never had difficulty burying himself in work. No, quite the contrary, he had always found it to be a great solace. Another brick in the wall. But today he was restless, and today he found he would rather be outdoors.
Not a thought he often had, considering there had been a time in his life when he had been forced to be outdoors twenty-four hours a day, for lack of home.
Not that he didn’t enjoy the beach on occasion, but he had been rather fond of temperature control since his first experience of it.
Before he could think much about it, he had stripped his T-shirt and jeans off, and gone on the hunt for swim shorts. Once he had acquired those, he took hold of a light T-shirt and put it on before making his way down the path that led to the private beach.
The sight of Minerva and Isabella did something strange to his chest. It tangled things up in there. And he didn’t like it.
Minerva was wearing a white bikini, and he had never seen so much of her skin. She also had on a wide-brimmed sunhat, and she and Isabella were beneath a cabana, staying out of the sun.
Minerva’s skin was that golden California-girl tone, courtesy of a lifetime spent at the beach. She had no makeup on today, her hair a riotous tangle beneath the hat, and he was sure that she had been out in the waves at some point. Her curves were slight, but they were delectable, her midsection slim but strong, muscles visible in her stomach.
Her arms were the same, slim but toned, as were her legs.
Her breasts were small, but round and high. His hands would eclipse them completely.
The thought sent a slug of desire straight through him.
What a strange moment. Standing there, looking at her as though she were...an object of desire.
Minerva.
Min.
When she looked over at him, her eyes widened, and the corners of her mouth turned down. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to check on you. Because you’ve been gone all day.”
“I told you we would be,” Minerva said. “I could think of nothing better to do while feeling safe than come to the beach.”
That made him feel slightly guilty for terrorizing her last night.
“Have you been afraid of him all this time?”
“I... Yes,” she said. “I had hoped that escaping would make him feel further away, but I was just waiting. Waiting for him to figure it out.”
“Figure what out?”
She blinked. “Nothing.”
“I know what it’s like. To feel afraid all the time.”
His mind was cast back to whom he’d been. That boy on the streets.
That boy who had held a gun to Robert King’s head.
“It’s terrible,” she said softly.
