Page 14 of Love on the Rocks
“Asteri mou,” he whispered against the shell of her ear, and she stiffened.
- One Week with the Greek
NIKOS
Ileaned back in the boat and waited for the blonde assassin to return from her inspection of the future construction site. She was pacing along the shore gesticulating at her phone. No doubt talking to her bloodsucking employers, breaking the news that she had missed her meeting with the government official.
What she didn’t know was that Panos had gotten to him first and pretended to be the project manager from Greystone, inventing a story about the sale of the land being delayed. He didn’t want to go along with the plan at first, but I convinced him that we needed to take advantage of the mayor’s absence for the next few weeks.
She’d find out eventually what happened, and I could only imagine how pissed she’d be. My mouth quirked up at the thought of the way she’d shot daggers at me with her eyes this morning. She had fire, I’d give her that. It made me feel a little less guilty about leaving her in the old cottage last night instead of in the house Greystone had rented for her on the other side of the island.Myside of the island.
A crumbling house with no hot water or electricity would have been perfect for that Greystone bastard. And that had been the plan. How could we have known they were sending a woman instead?
When we’d left her alone last night, I’d had second thoughts but then reasoned that, in the end, it was better to go hard with the original plan. I’d explained it all to Yiannis this morning. “Look, she’s not going to last longer than a couple of days here. You saw her with her fuck-me heels and designer clothes. You think she can go forty-eight hours without a hairdryer?”
What I didn’t tell Yiannis was that I’d gone back after dark with a small generator and some bottles of water. I’d also left Argos to stand guard. There’d never been any real crime on the island and people never locked their doors, but something told me that if trouble followed anyone, it would be her.
Turned out I didn’t need to worry about her at all. I had expected her to arrive, if not crying, at least outraged and demanding to take the first ferry back to Rhodes. Not only was she unfazed, but she also looked like she’d stepped out of some Hollywood movie in a curve-hugging dress, her hair coiffed, and dark red lips perfectly drawn on. I wondered if she didn’t have some sort of supernatural powers, or maybe a book of spells tucked away in one of those suitcases. What else could explain the absolute vision she offered as she strutted toward us on the dock this morning?
I’d been gob smacked again. So much so that I didn’t have to pretend I didn’t speak English. I’d forgotten how to speak at all.
Not that it mattered. She’d proceeded to ignore me like she had the day before. Well, two could play that game.
I’d already made up my mind last night that I wouldn’t speak to her until she addressed me directly. Let her think I was some brute with a bad attitude. A lowly fisherman not fit to kiss her foot, which I had imagined doing as she tapped her strappy heels against my boat.
At that moment, those same heels, topped by a pair of shapely calves, came clicking down the steps. I continued to lounge in the gently bobbing boat until they were in front of me. Then I sat up slowly and I let my eyes trail up her body.
The sun lit her from behind creating a golden halo around her head. Okay, as if I needed any more symbolism from the universe. I got it. She was a goddess, and I was the poor mortal at her feet who she wouldn’t even deign to address.
I stood, reaching out to help her into the boat, and her mouth flattened into a thin line. After a moment of hesitation, she reluctantly held out her own manicured hand. A warm sizzling current of electricity snaked up my arm when our hands met. She gasped, stumbling against me as I pulled her into the boat, then snatched her hand away and slid down onto the cracked wooden seat.
I started the engine just as her phone buzzed and I cocked an ear to hear her conversation better. “Hello! Yes, I can hear you now, Gaz. How am I supposed to call the agent when you haven’t given me his phone number?”
I could hear a male voice on the other end of the line. She glared at the phone, and I was sure if she were able to reach through it, she’d strangle the dude on the other end. “I’m a chef, not a fucking architect. What do I know about permits? Send Fred!”
A chef? Weird. Why the hell was a chef overseeing permits for a hotel construction site?
“Look, I know you wanted me to come out here and get a feel for the place, but I’m not exactly inspired right now.” She pinched her nose between her fingers and almost looked like she might break down.
Ah, fuck, the gig was up if she did that. There was no way I’d keep up with the mute-brute act if she started to cry.
But just like that, she got a hold of herself. That cool, confident mask was back on her beautiful face. “Fine, fine. Yes, you’re right. You need to focus on Cannes. Hello? Oh God, not again!”
She shook the phone and started whispering furiously to herself. Spells and incantations no doubt. I’d hate to be the one that was the focus of all that ire. She caught me watching her and turned sideways, her face out toward the sea.
As we rounded the cove, the engine started to sputter and then died.
“Gamó,” I grumbled. I tried pulling the engine again, but it was no use. I’d already had problems with the motor last week but hadn’t gotten around to fixing it. I had oars but realized that this might work to my benefit. We could just drift for a while. I was pretty sure it would drive her insane. Maybe it would be the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. I could sense she was on the verge of taking the next ferry home.
There was no wind, so as a joke I raised the small sail that I used sometimes when I wanted to let breeze carry me. That got her attention.
“Brilliant,” she mumbled, taking up her phone again. She aimed it at the sky, pointing in different directions. “Ha!” she cried in triumph. Her thumbs moved furiously across the screen.
“Poulette!” she cried a few seconds later, the phone against her ear. I wondered who the hell was on the other end this time.“Yes, I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry. The reception is terrible. By some miracle, I have service out in the middle of the ocean. What? You’re breaking up.
“Liv? Yeah, so it turns out that to call the house rustic would be a gross understatement. No, really, we’re talking ancient Greece here. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the Argonauts had built it.” She forced a laugh. “Anyway, I’m drifting in the middle of the ocean on a tiny fishing boat as we speak. No, not by myself. Though I may as well be.”
I looked away so she wouldn’t know that I could understand every word of her conversation. “Yeah, well, I have an escort who doesn’t speak any English. Actually, he doesn’t speak much at all so that’s fun. And we appear to be stuck. We have this ridiculous makeshift sail and no wind.” Another hysterical laugh. “At least, he’s easy on the eyes. It’s his only saving grace.”
