Page 111 of Gilded Saint

“I believe so. Would you like to hang out on the deck?”

He’s wearing swim trunks that hang low, close to his knees, a decidedly American style, but an American stocked the ship with the clothes. He’s also wearing a short-sleeve button down, but it’s unbuttoned. My fingers trace the fading bruises along his collarbone and across his chest.

“Should I get some sunscreen? You can take this off and save yourself from strange tan lines.”

“Does this mean I get to apply sunscreen to you?” He fingers the lining of my swimsuit bottoms as he nibbles along my neck.

“Thomas already did that. But you can reapply in about an hour.”

“Thomas?”

Choosing to ignore the gruffness in his tone, I push up on my toes and press my lips to his chin. “You’ve been gone,” I chastise. “This would feel like a honeymoon if you hadn’t been working so much.”

He exhales what sounds like frustration. “Debriefings and…our funeral will be in a week.”

“That’s quick.” It feels quick, at least. Time has simultaneously flown and slowed out here with nothing but the Atlantic as far as the eye can see.

“Your family is speeding it along. At least once they agreed we would be buried on Nick Ivanov’s estate.”

“Why there?”

“He’s the closest Leo had to family in Europe. They debated flying our remains to the States, but the powers that be decided it would be risky to invite your family to my theoretical family home. It opened us up to unnecessary risks.”

“What do you mean?”

“Family photographs without me in them. Running into a real family member in town who isn’t aware Leo Sullivan exists. It’s a high-risk scenario.”

“How is there a burial without remains?”

“They have remains. After the storm, the search team found our bodies downstream from the vehicle. We were cremated.”

“My family agreed?”

“Nick insisted you would want to be buried with your husband.”

“Why?”

He raises an amused eyebrow. He’s teasing me because he knows I plan to be by his side for eternity. While he’s been absent during the day, our nights have been full of lovemaking, talking, and planning the future.

“No, I mean, why not have us buried in the Gagliano family plot?”

“Minimizing risk. We don’t want someone digging up remains and running DNA tests.”

“Who was cremated?”

“John Does.”

“Who?”

“Unclaimed bodies in the morgue.”

“But…”

“Anything can be had for the right price.”

“These precautions…are you still?—”

“I’m officially no longer a part of the operation.”

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