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She gives me an apologetic smile. “Oh, that’s okay. I think I’m gonna sit this one out.”
I frown. Since when has Emma turned down a chance to swim? The woman is always by the pool in highly distracting swimsuits and bikinis.
“How can you say no to this?” I demand, spreading my arms wide as all of us tread in place. “Just take that dress off and jump in.”
She shakes her head. It’s hard to say from down here with the glare of the sun in my eyes, but I think I see the shadowy furrow of her forehead vein working overtime.
“I think I’m just gonna go inside and rest for a bit.” She disappears before I can ask any further questions.
So much for perfect. Something’s definitely off.
I spend another fifteen minutes with the kids. Then, when Kirill jumps in with them after finishing up some work below deck, I climb up the rope ladder and make my way towards the cabin. I pass Vadim on the outer deck, sipping his cocktail and talking to someone on the phone. Judging by the look on his face, it’s not a pleasant conversation.
I find Emma in her cabin. She’s sitting on the bed in her flowy dress, the slit putting her creamy thigh on full display.
“Ruslan!” she says in surprise, sitting up a little straighter when I walk in. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to try and figure out whyyouaren’t outthere.”
She blushes and tries to avoid my eyes. “It’s nothing.”
“I suggest you tell me now before I carry you back outside and rip that dress right off you myself.”
Her eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“I’ll be gentle when I throw you overboard.”
She throws me a little scowl and gets off the bed in a huff. Unfortunately, her thigh disappears underneath her skirt.
Easily remedied.
“I’membarrassed,okay?” She stands there with her arms wrapped around her body. “I know it’s silly and superficial but I’m embarrassed.”
“What the hell are you embarrassed about?”
Now,she’sthe one who looks confused. She gestures to her body. “Aboutthis.”
“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”
She groans. “I just don’t like the way I look in my bikini anymore. I put it on underneath this dress and… let’s just say it’s not exactly flattering. So I’m just feeling a little insecure and I’d rather not prance around in a bikini with my stomach on display.”
A scowl twists my lips. I grab her arm and drag her towards the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. Then I rip apart the tie-up that’s holding her dress together.
“Ruslan!” she yelps.
But it’s too late. I’ve already got the damn thing off her. She tries to cover herself up with her arms, but I peel them off and pin them down to her sides. She’s wearing a black string bikini that highlights her breasts and puts her tiny little bump on display. Every curve is there to touch, to taste.
“See?” she moans. “I look like a whale.”
This woman…
“Fucking hell, Emma. Are we looking at the same damn mirror?Lookat yourself. You’re gorgeous.”
Her eyes actually go wide with disbelief, then suspicion. Both piss me off. Does she really think I would lie to her about this?
