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“And until then?”
“We scope out our surroundings. We need water. Food. Shelter.”
“You said there was a hut? Let’s start there. If someone was here, surely there is water nearby?”
Saint doesn’t look too convinced since we’re surrounded by salt water. But he humors me anyway. “Okay.”
I forget my SOS idea for the moment and follow Saint as he hikes up a small hill and passes through a small alcove between two trees. I crane my neck to peer at the soaring greenery. Nothing distinguishes one way from another, which scares me because one could easily lose their way in here.
Saint seems to know where he’s going, so I stick close. But the ground is littered with rocks and fallen branches, making walking with bare feet very uncomfortable. Before long, I’m hobbling from foot to foot to avoid hazards, but it’s impossible.
“Wait,” I breathlessly say, placing my hand on a tree trunk and balancing on one leg as I clean the sole of my foot and dig out a small twig embedded between my toes.
Saint turns to look at me, only just realizing that I’m walking barefoot. Sighing, he marches over while I instinctively back up. It doesn’t stop him, however. “Here.” He offers his back to me while I cock my head to the side, confused. “Get up.”
“Get up?” I repeat, so lost in translation.
He turns over his shoulder, grips my wrist and drags me forward until I hit his back. “I’ll carry you,” he explains while I’m certain I’ve just inhaled a swarm of mosquitos as my mouth hinges open.
“It’s fine,” I argue. I don’t want to owe him anything else. I already owe him my life. But he clucks his tongue, annoyed.
“Stop arguing with me, and do what you’re told for once.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him he should know by now that I don’t follow the rules, but my aching feet are begging for mercy. I don’t know how far away this hut is, and as I look farther ahead, all I see is dense forest. At this rate, I’ll get there by nightfall.
I hate that this is the better option, but I eventually cave. Climbing him is going to be an issue because he’s a freaking giant, but I wrap my arms around his shoulders and boost myself up. He grips the back of my knees and helps me get into a comfortable position.
Being pressed up this close to him is awkward, but I loop my arms around him, ensuring not to choke him as I position my legs on either side of his trunk. The fact he’s topless does nothing to soothe my embarrassment as I’m not wearing any underwear, but I try my best to use his shirt and my dress as a barrier.
Saint doesn’t seem to care either way.
He takes off quickly while I yelp and tighten my hold around him. I swear I feel his shoulders vibrate with a muted chuckle, but I ignore such nonsense and focus on the marvelous sights around me.
This place is truly another world, and I think Saint is right—I think we really are the only people here. Apart from the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional bird squawking in the distance, there is absolute silence. I can’t remember the last time such stillness surrounded me.
It’s daunting, but also, in some ways, after the past ten days, this peace is exactly what I need.
Saint’s skin is scorching hot and slippery with sweat as the sunrise carries some warmth. I can only imagine how hot it’ll get at its full peak. I feel bad that he’s carrying me since he’s wounded, but we are covering a lot more ground as he’s like the wind.
His muscles ripple against me, and I gnaw the inside of my cheek to stop a mewl from escaping. Being this close to him just intensifies his scent, but it’s mixed with a hit of pure masculinity. Being out here in the open has somehow upped his wildness.
A low fire begins to simmer, but we’ve reached the hut, putting an end to any inappropriate thoughts. When Saint said it was small, he was actually being generous.
The circular structure fashioned from sawed-off tree trunks looks weatherworn and unstable. I didn’t think these sorts of things existed, but I’ve been proven wrong. It’s not that far off the ground, but a tattered rope hangs over the edge of the logs, which seems to be the only way to enter and exit. There are no ladders. Just whatever this punishing forestry can provide.
The roof consists of giant palm leaves. The foundation is tree trunks or, more accurately, what looks like the trunks of coconut trees. I didn’t think coconuts grew in the Mediterranean, but I hope I’m wrong because that would solve our water issue.
“Want to take a look?”
“Sure.” I scale down his body, dismounting very ungracefully as I attempt to cover my modesty. He turns over his shoulder, his lips twitching.
I arch a brow, indicating I don’t have all day, which technically, I do, but I’ll be damned if I allow him to be clued in on my response to him. His grin soon disappears, and he reaches for the rope. His tattooed wings come to life, and he soars to the top with ease. I ignore the way his back muscles ripple with his sheer strength.
When he swings his legs over the edge and stands inside the hut, he cocks his own brow, indicatinghedoesn’t have all day.
Screw him.
Peering up, I shield the sun from my eyes with my hand, wondering the best way to climb this weathered rope without falling on my ass or, worse yet, flashing Saint. I never excelled in gym class, and I’m not going to lie, I’m not a fan of heights.
