Page 15 of Don't Bite The Boss
We step into the dining room, and he releases my arm, casting me a quick, sharp look.
‘Oh fuck, how did he work that one out so quickly? I’d literally only finished him half an hour ago and slipped his body over the side. He’d tasted like Tristan’s expensive whisky, and kippers. But hey, any man who thinks it’s OK to spearfish dolphins is fair game to me.’
I shudder as I recall the sight of the baby dolphin in the freezer, a chance and unwelcome find when I’d been exploring the ship earlier. It hadn’t taken long to question a few of the crew and discover the captain’s dirty little game. I wondered if Tristan knew, but answered that question for myself immediately. He’d been excited to see mosaics evidencing dancing dolphins in his villa, told me they enchanted him and kept him company when he was sailing. I know he wouldn’t have counselled them being killed. I’d done him and the dolphins a favour by eating the captain.
I paste on a bright, happy smile at the fat old Italian men with their straining dinner jackets as I make my way to the lectern.
7
Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a towel around myself and prepare to dress for a night on the town.
Normally I work each night at the villa grounds, but I need to hunt tonight, to get away for a while from the silence and my thoughts, so Naples and glad rags are required. I am toying with the idea of asking Tristan when I see him next if I can take a short break to fly home to the States. It’s been on my mind the last couple of days to go home and confront Serena. I can’t take this radio silence anymore, it’s colouring everything.
I wander over to the wardrobe to consider what femme fatale-type garb I might slip into, just as I hear a loud splash from the pool area and, raising my eyebrows in surprise, make my way to the living area to flick open the curtains.
A man is doing laps in my pool – my private pool!
I’ve lived here months and no one, as far as I know, has ever interrupted my privacy.
Opening the bifold doors, still wrapped in my towel, I step out into the cool evening and stalk towards the tiled edge to give whomever it is a piece of my mind, when I stop mid-step.
The smooth, wide shoulders of the man cutting through the water are those I recognise well, although I’ve never seen them sans clothing before.
Surprised, I sit down on the edge and dangle my feet in the water, waiting for him to finish a lap and come up for air, so I can ask why he is here. As I watch him turn and spin and continue his strong, regular strokes, I admire the muscles in his back, his small waist and his long, powerful legs as he kicks through the water with a grace I wouldn’t have imagined him capable of.
‘Holy hell, you are beautiful Tristan Berrington.’
I wait, mesmerised, perhaps twenty minutes before he is finally out of energy and stops his laps, rolling over onto his back to float, his eyes skyward.
“I don’t want to interrupt your contemplation of the constellations,” I joke, “but why are you in my pool?”
Splashing in surprise, he turns to stare at me, and I realise he hadn’t noticed me all this time.
“Your pool?” he says quietly, swimming lazily towards me and stopping to tread water out of arms’ reach.
I watch his eyes leave my face, and pull my towel up from where it has slipped a little, revealing the swell of my bosom, suddenly very aware that I am naked underneath, and he has only a small scrap of clothing between himself and nudity.
“Isn’t it?” I frown, aware of his breathing in the still of the night, of his lazy movements to stay afloat, the ripples extending from him like caresses towards my feet as his hands move slowly back and forth in the water.
‘How easy it would be to just slip into the water with him and slide my wet body along his. But I’d bite him, and he isn’t wearing any fang-proof armour tonight. No, best to stay out of reach.’
“It’s the only pool in the complex,” he says quietly. “I swim here most nights when you are away. I thought you were still on the villa grounds. I’m sorry if I’ve intruded.”
“Most nights? The only pool? I thought your wing would have one too?”
“This is the master wing,” he says, nodding to the doors behind me.
“Oh.”
“But it’s also the only one that is light-tight,” he adds quietly, as he turns, swims to the steps and slowly walks out of the pool, his beautiful back once more to me. I gulp as my eyes are drawn lower, to his hard ass and strong, muscular legs as he picks his towel up from a nearby day bed and walks towards me. He has a swimmer’s body, I realise now, wide shoulders, narrow hips, lean, muscled legs.
“Well then,” I swallow hard, “I guess I ought to thank you for giving me this wing. Obviously, the pool belongs to everyone.” I watch as he flings his towel over his shoulder and continues to walk, intent on passing me and leaving through the small door in the hedge. “You don’t have to go. I’ll go back inside. You can stay and swim.”
“I’ve swum enough,” he says, his voice full of what sounds like sadness as he continues walking.
I jump up and flit to stand between him and the door, my inhuman speed surprising him and causing him to grunt and step back.
“Sorry,” I grin ruefully, “didn’t mean to frighten you. I just, Tristan, I wanted to talk to you about something but, wait.” I see how red his eyes are,‘has he been crying? No, surely it is just the chlorine…but there is something, something behind his eyes.’
