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Yet he remembered it all now.
He remembered the underground pool area. All mosaic and pillars. A glimmering sort of underground cave of wonder. They had many happy times there as a family. A place where they could all relax and simply be themselves.
He was certain he would remember how to swim. That, he thought, had to be something buried into your muscle memory. It was a survival instinct, after all.
They walked down to the end of the corridor, down a spiral staircase and into the magnificent room, which was every bit as glorious as he remembered.
And he could remember laughing here. Playing here.
The memories were so sharp, but unlike that moment in the library, it did not intrude on reality. Didn’t block out the moment.
“This is incredible,” she said.
“Yes. It is.”
He began to step down into the water. And then slid forward, slicing through like a knife.
And he found that he could swim. Expertly still.
“Come on,” he said.
She looked at him, and he could see color mounted in her cheeks. Then she let the rope slide from her shoulders. Revealing a bright yellow bikini beneath.
And his body went hard like iron.
The body that she revealed surpassed his wildest dreams.
Her breasts were full, spilling from the yellow cups, her stomach soft, her waist small. Her hips were lush, and the way the bottom of the swimsuit caused her hips to dent inward, forced him to imagine what it would look like if he gripped them with his hands and held on tight.
She looked away from him, but she began to walk to the edge of the pool. “It is very nice-looking,” she said, her voice suddenly stilted. Stiff.
“Well, it is much nicer than I even remembered. But I think perhaps my memories were blunted by design. Sometimes being able to remember good things felt like a gift. In other times it felt more like a curse.”
She didn’t say anything, but nodded, getting into the water, the surface lapping up over her hips. She shivered.
“You are lovely,” he said.
Her skin went scarlet all over. “You shouldn’t...”
“Should I pretend that I’m not looking at you? That I’m not taking careful inventory of each dip and swell of your body? Of the way your breasts look. Firm and glorious. Of your hips, how full and lush they are, and how I wish to grab hold of them.”
“Riyaz...”
Her voice was breathless, but not a warning. He swam over to her. “Come,” he said, extending his arm.
She hesitated for a moment, and then she reached out, taking his hand, and he pulled her toward him, swimming her out with him, her body pressed against his, and he groaned. “Brianna,” he said. “You are... A temptation too many for me.”
“Riyaz,” she said. “This is not... We aren’t...”
He reached up and moved his thumb over her lips. “What?”
“I can’t help you with this. This isn’t why I’m here. This isn’t what Cairo wanted me to do.”
“I see. Do you love my brother?”
“Yes,” she said.
She looked away from him, clearly ashamed at the admission.
