Page 21 of The Stowaway

“A beach? Really?” I asked, forgetting my fear because there was no beach near London. “I've never been.”

“We can't do much because of your ribs,” he warned.

“I don't care. I want to feel the sand beneath my bare feet,” I said in excitement as I pushed him away from me and slid off the bed to hunt for a beach-appropriate outfit.

I ignored the laughter that followed me.

∞∞∞

I stared at the pebbles in dismay.

“Where is the sand, and why is this allowed to be called a beach?” I demanded.

Ivan lifted my hand and kissed it before he tugged me along the fake beach.

“As soon as your ribs are better, I will fly you out to a real beach.”

“So you admit that you brought me to a fake beach?”

He let go of my hand and put his arm around my waist, his fingers spreading across my stomach. I sighed before leaning into him and wrapping my arm around him.

“Misha would have loved this. I told you we should have brought him with us,” I said, feeling guilty, looking at the open space and the sea.

“It's only a walk and some lunch. We can bring him with us next time.”

I glanced back to see Pavel following us. As over the top, as it seemed, it made me glad he was there. There was something going on, but Ivan spoke Russian whenever he spoke to his men, and I had no clue what it was. This is why I began to learn Russian on his tablet and sometimes on the phone he had gotten me.

It was sad that I had no one's number to put in it. This morning, he had given me three credit cards and a debit card, which I’d put in the bedside drawer. I didn't need to buy anything. He had taken care of that for me.

A breeze hit my face, and I inhaled the clean sea air. For all my moaning about the lack of sand, I loved being here, close to the sea and out in the open.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” I said.

He kissed the top of my head and rested his hand on my hip.

We spent the morning talking. The more he talked about his family, the more it made me want to meet them. I didn't say anything about my mother. There wasn't much to say. What could I tell him that she resented from the day I was born?

By the afternoon, the sun was shining, and we stopped off at a seafood restaurant. It made me glad I had worn a dress—a simple white dress with a touch of blue and a matching blue cardigan. All the clothes he’d bought me were beautiful and stylish.

We sat at a table beside the window, which overlooked the sea. Pavel sat at a table close to the door. He didn't look inconspicuous at all, wearing a suit, tie and matching shoes on the beachside. Ivan took my hand, pulling my attention away from Pavel.

“Why are you looking at him?” he asked sharply, squeezing my hand beneath his.

Startled, I glanced at his face and saw his anger. His lips were pursed, and his eyes were trying to bore holes into mine. He was ridiculously jealous of Pavel.

I smiled and covered his hand with mine.

“I thought it was funny that he is wearing a suit, tie and polished shoes at a fake beach,” I said, patting his hand.

His eyes flicked towards Pavel briefly before his grip loosened on my hand, but he was still frowning. Before I could say anything, a waitress came with our menus. She was polite and smiled at us when she saw our hands.

“Thank you,” I said, taking the menu from her.

Ivan looked a little calmer by the time she left, and I opened up the menu. I’d tried more seafood living with Ivan. Lena made a fish soup and a salmon and pastry dish, which I enjoyed, but I didn't think I would be able to tackle a crab or a lobster.

“Do you want me to order for us, Kitten?”

I nodded and watched him scan the menu before he raised his hand for the waitress. It wasn't until she came back that I realised if Ivan had been staring at her, I would have reacted in the same way, but perhaps by bashing his balls in from under the table.

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