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He went still for a moment, silent, his shoulders bowed. Then he unfolded a washcloth and lathered it up with a soap that smelled like coconuts, not answering.The warm water from the shower felt like paradise, but his hands on me, taking care of me, were even better.
“Your soap smells like me,” I murmured as he ran the warm cloth over my legs, and my feet. He didn’t answer, gently separating my legs and methodically wiping away every trace of salt. When he lifted one arm and saw a bruise forming there, he let out a small groan, like he was the one hurt.“I must have hit it when I jumped after her,” I mused. “It’s not painful.”
He didn’t speak, but his touch became even gentler. His hands were trembling as he washed my stomach, then my breasts, then my neck.
“Turn around,” he instructed quietly. He washed my hair, then massaged conditioner through it. I held myself up on the wall as pleasure warred with exhaustion. When I was rinsed, he lifted me out of the shower and set me on a cushioned bench, where I drifted in and out of awareness as he dried me, then gently brushed out my hair.
I was almost asleep as he carried me to his bed, and must have been dreaming when he kissed my head, stroking my hair over the pillow, singing the same song my dad had sung to me when I was a little girl, though his voice had never held this much pain when he did.
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine…
* * *
I woke up alone, shadows flying across the blanket over me. Slowly, I realized they were shadows of clouds, moving fast because the boat was racing along.
“You slept well.” Giovanni’s voice was low and quiet.
I sat up, the covers falling to my waist. He was seated in a chair against the wall, beside a table that held a silver dome-covered plate and a carafe of water. He had on the same clothes as the night before, and hadn’t shaved. Or slept, it looked like.
I felt cool air on my breasts and realized I was still naked, but his bloodshot eyes never dipped below my face.
“Did you sleep at all?” I asked, then coughed. My throat was terribly dry, as if I’d swallowed sandpaper.
In an instant, a glass of cool water was being pressed into my hands. I drank, as Giovanni perched on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on me.
“Have you been watching me sleep, Edward?” I teased. He didn’t reply, and I added a Twilight movie marathon to the list of things I would subject this alpha to if I ever got him tied down and at my mercy. “What are you staring at?”
He exhaled, then answered, “The bravest woman I’ve ever met in my life.”
I fell back on my pillow, laughing.
“Why would you laugh at that? You dove into the open ocean to save a child you just met this week. You can’t even swim—” I started to interrupt, but he cut me off. “I watched you place yourself between Sylvia and Alphonse more than once, and stand up to her mother, and me, when we acted reprehensibly toward you.” His voice broke.
“Lorelei texted me early this morning. Sylvia told her all the things you said to her last night, to keep her calm in the water. How you knew I would come for you.” I watched a tear roll down his face, though he didn't seem aware he was crying. “That you believed in me, and I was already on my way. How you put her arms through the life jacket when she got tired, even though it put you in more danger.” Another silent tear. “We can never repay you for what you did. And I can never deserve the faith you had in me.”
Wow.I pinched my arm lightly, just to check if I was still dreaming. Then I laid one hand over his. His skin was warm, and I wanted to feel more of it.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, his voice quiet, respectful.
“I could eat,” I said, and in seconds, there was a plate with toast, butter, marmalade, a small crystal cup of berries with yogurt, a boiled egg, and one link of sausage, still warm. Giovanni fed me a bite at a time, his focus entirely on my lips, and wiped the corners of my mouth when the food was gone. Not once did he glance at my boobs, or comment on the fact that by the end of the meal, my nipples could be used to facet diamonds, they were so hard.
“Still hungry?” he asked.
“Thirsty,” I replied, inhaling deeply. For an instant, his gaze flickered to my chest, but he merely stood and brought more water to the bed.
Damnit.
A low, warm swirling began in my core, and I felt the familiar stirrings of lust. If the sudden rush of mocha scent was any indication, Giovanni was feeling it, too. Only he wasn’t going to do anything about it.
I let the sheet fall a little farther down, so that it was barely covering my hips.
His voice was raspy as he cleared up the remains of my breakfast. “We turned the yacht around as soon as we found you. The closest port with a decent medical facility is Georgetown, so we’re headed straight home. Your parents will be waiting when we get there.”
“How long?”
“Thirty hours, give or take.” His eyes scanned me. “If you’re not feeling well, if you need to be home sooner, I can have a helicopter here—”
I interrupted. “You know how you said I was brave? I’m not. If I were brave, I’d be able to tell you what I wanted. To ask for what I need.”
