Page 60 of Isle of Beauty

Her hand lifts tentatively to my cheek, her lips coming to meet mine in a slow movement, as if she’s afraid I’m going to reject her. I bridge the gap for her and let her move her sweet lips against mine. When she tightens her fists in my hair and deepens the kiss, I groan, the ropes of restraint pulling taunt.

“Baby, you’re injured. Come on, I have a surprise for you.”

Her eyes light up with excitement. I take her hand and guide her up to walk a short way to the kitchen where we sit at the counter. She lets me and it feels like a gift. Lana doesn’t want a man to sweep her off her feet, she can do that for herself all on her own. Yet, she’s letting herself rely on me. The power and the sense of responsibility it gives me cloaks me like a second skin.

I don’t only want her naked for me, I want the deepest and darkest part of her soul stripped bare.

“Can I get you something to drink, mo cara?”

“Don’t you remember my drink of choice?”

“Gin Mare, it is.”

I prepare two glasses of gin and tonic with an orange peel with unhurried movements. Light on the gin; I don’t want her to mixing her meds and alcohol.

My fingers work the buttons of my shirt sleeves and I roll them up before I place the drink in front of her and turn to finish the aziminu I spent the past hour preparing.

I don’t miss the flare of desire in Lana’s eyes or the subtle way she wiggles on her seat and clenches her thighs. I collect that reaction like I have every other.

My cock thickens but I won’t act on it. She deserves the rest and to be the centre of my care, not of my need.

“A toast?” I suggest

“There’s nothing to celebrate, Pierce.”

“No? Not even life? Another enemy slain? Or maybe I can toast to getting my shirt back after the girl of my dreams left with it in the middle of the night?”

“I’m not sure I want to give it back. I’ve grown quite attached to it.” She says under the rim of her glass. I’m transported back to that first night in London when she licked a fallen drop of gin on her lush lips and I knew right then I wanted to kiss her all night long.

I’m thrown back to London but nothing compares now that I know who Lana is and that she’s going to be mine by law. I’ll always know where to find her now.

“Then you can keep it, mo cara. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give you.”

Silence stretches between us, our gazes locked and full of what we haven’t said yet.

She clears out her throat, dissipating the moment. Baby steps, I remind myself. “So, what did Mammona make?”

“I’ll have you know, dear fiancée, that I can cook.”

“Alright, pinzutu, let’s see if you can manage not to fuck up our traditional cuisine.”

After we finish our gin and tonic, we switch to water and dig in the fish soup I made for us.

“How’s working with your father?”

Her sensitivity catches me off guard. She hasn’t given me much indication that she cares about me as I do for her since I came to Kalliste. I thought I’d have to woo her and convince her that I’m here for the long run, not that I’d be pried open again with her sweet words, her genuine concern and mesmerising eyes.

“It’s been an adjustment,” I answer honestly.

“Why are you doing this to yourself? You told me once you hate your father, why go through all this heartache?”

“Lana,” her name sounds like a prayer on my tongue, sweeter than wine and honey. “You know why.”

My hand lands on hers and I link our fingers together, the moment stretching between us. She glances down at our hands, hers so much smaller, and swallows thickly before breaking our connection.

“I’m full. I think I’m gonna go get some more sleep.”

“Are you really going to skip dessert?” I walk to the fridge to grab the two portions I made earlier, opting for a light-hearted tone when all I want to do is force her to see me.

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