Page 62 of Heat Island
Trinity pressesher body against mine, hips swaying to the music that fills the yacht’s dance floor. Her eyes have that glassy sheen of someone who’s had one too many drinks, and her movements are more fluid, less controlled than earlier. She loops her arms around my neck, pulling herself closer.
I steady her with hands on her waist as she sways a little too far to one side and spills a bit of her drink. This is her third drink in the last hour with no evidence she plans to slow down.
“Maybe we should get some fresh air,” I suggest, glancing at her nearly empty glass.
Trinity shakes her head, her chestnut hair brushing against my chest. “I’m having fun. Aren’t you having fun?”
Her body rolls against mine in a way that makes my breath catch. Gentleman or not, I’m still an alpha, and she’s still pressing all the right buttons.
“I’m having a great time,” I say carefully. “But I think some water might be a good idea.”
She pulls back just enough to give me a suspicious look. “Are you trying to sober me up?”
“No, I’m trying to make sure you don’t hate yourself in the morning.” I brush a strand of hair from her face. “And that you’re able to function for whatever activities you’ve over-scheduled for tomorrow.”
Trinity sighs dramatically, leaning her forehead against my chest. “You’re right. You’re so responsible. So...alpha.”
The way she says it—half teasing and half sultry—makes my skin warm. I notice Egret watching us from across the deck, his eyes narrowed. Let him look. Let him see what he gave up.
When the server passes, I intercept him and swap Trinity’s empty whiskey glass for water. She doesn’t seem to notice, taking a long sip while still swaying against me.
“I should check the time,” she mumbles, fumbling for her phone. “Need to make sure everything’s going according to schedule.”
“It’s all perfect,” I assure her, gently redirecting her hand from her purse. “You planned everything beautifully. Just enjoy the moment.”
She looks up at me with those incredible hazel eyes, suddenly vulnerable. “Do you think they believe us? That we’re real?”
My chest tightens. “Yes,” I say, feeling more hopeful than I risk putting into words. “And if they don’t, we’ll just have to work harder to convince them.”
The boat’s gentle docking jolt nearly sends Trinity stumbling, but I hold her steady. We dance until the captain announces we’re a few minutes from returning to the resort.
As passengers begin to disembark, I keep my arm around her waist, guiding her carefully toward the gangplank.
Cash catches my eye as we approach the dock, Lucas and Kyren flanking him. The silent question in his expression is clear: Everything okay?
I give a slight nod, then lean close to Trinity’s ear. “Let me help you back to the room. You should rest.”
“But there’s a dinner buffet,” she protests weakly. “The others?—”
“The others can go ahead without us,” I tell her. “I’ll make sure you get back safely, then meet them later.”
Trinity starts to argue, but sways slightly, proving my point. “Fine,” she concedes. “Maybe I should lie down for a bit.”
As we make our way toward the path to our villa, I notice Kyren watching us intently as he takes a step to follow. Before he can say anything, Lucas smoothly steers him toward the resort’s main building.
“Hey, the lobby piano is open,” Lucas says enthusiastically. “How about a quick serenade before dinner?”
Cash gives me a knowing look. “We’ll save you a seat at dinner, Matheo.”
I don’t miss that they’re giving me a moment alone with her in the villa, my first since we got here.
And they don’t quite trust that Kyren isn’t hiding something from us.
To be honest, neither do I, even if I love the guy.
Trinity leans more heavily against me as we walk along the torch-lit path to our villa. The night air seems to be intensifying the alcohol’s effect rather than clearing her head.
“I can walk on my own,” she insists, attempting to straighten and stumbling hard into my side.
