Page 58 of His

“Consider this my forgiveness.” I raise his hand and tap a kiss on his healing knuckles.

Hand in hand, we follow the hostess to a round table sitting under the sunset. Behind it is an infinity pool that melts into the desert below.

A white linen cloth covers the table. What seems like a million candles surround us, on the table, on the floor, hanging from the pergola above.

“It’s stunning,” I say.

“It’s you.” Astor smiles, sweeps a strand of hair behind my ear. “Let’s relax.”

“Done.” I wink.

Two hours, five courses, and two bottles of five-hundred-dollar wine later, I am delightfully drunk and endlessly happy.

Astor takes my hand, pulling me up.

“Ready for a swim, darling?”

I look at the sparkling blue water, then back at him. “I didn’t bring up my swimsuit, darling.”

“You don’t need it.”

I cock a brow, glance over my shoulder at the emptiness of the bar behind us. The waitstaff have obviously been ordered to leave us alone, making rare appearances to refill our drinks or deliver our food.

The corner of my lip curves with the kind of confidence that comes with having drunk a bottle of wine in under two hours.

Astor grins at my reaction, and begins unbuttoning his shirt.

Nerves tickle my stomach as he pulls it off and drapes it over the back of the chair, his eyes never leaving mine.

I begin taking off my jewelry, enjoying the strip tease in front of me.

The boxer briefs come off and, with a wink, Astor strides into the pool with a full erection, and a body chiseled from stone.

I laugh. “What I would give to have your confidence.”

“So have it.”

I snort. “Okay.”

“It’s that easy.”

“Is it?” I look over my shoulder again, ensuring we are still alone as I grab the zipper on the side of my dress.

“Yes, it’s that easy. Simply disregard what people think of you. Screw them, Sabine. Who cares? Screw ’em.”

I tilt my head to the side, smirking. “Okay, big shot, screw ’em. Screw ’em all.”

I slip out of my dress and lingerie and stand above him in nothing but six-inch red patent heels.

His eyes twinkle. He swims to me, beacons me with his finger.

Feeling gloriously free and surprisingly empowered, I kick out of the heels and kneel by him.

Astor surges out of the water, grabs my shoulder and pulls me into the pool.

We breach laughing, soaking wet and entangled in each other’s arms.

Under the water, his hands trace my curves. “Nice, huh?”

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