Page 5 of Sapphire

“I’m Nikolai.” He holds his hand out, and my eyes drop to the tattoos covering his knuckles.

“Zoe.”

I take his hand and give it a shake. Sparks shoot up my arm at our connection. He notices it, too, as he stares at his hand wondering what happened.

“Nice to meet you, Zoe.”

Nikolai orders us drinks, and it’s not long till the bartender hands them over to us.

“To getting to know you better,” he states, holding up his glass of beer.

I clink my martini glass against his in agreement before taking a sip. When I look up again at Nikolai, he gives me a blinding smile before moving closer to me. His tattooed hand rests on the top of my exposed thigh under the table and begins rubbing circles against my bare skin, which instantly pebbles it.

I most definitely am looking forward to getting to know him better. Just this once, a one-night stand can’t hurt, can it?

3

MATEO

Abody.

Why is there a body at our gate?

Are they dead?

“Don’t, let Francisco deal with it,” Tomas says, holding my arm and pulling me back toward the car.

“There’s a body in our driveway. I’m sorry, but I will not stand by and watch. They need help. Why is no one helping them?”

My body propels me forward and out of my lover’s restraint. I rush toward the body ignoring everyone’s pleas. The body is lying half in the bushes and half in front of our gate. They don’t look to be moving. Crumpled footsteps approach from behind me along the driveway.

“Can you go deal with the driver? He seems traumatized,” Tomas asks Francisco.

Turning around, I see our limousine driver doing a couple of Hail Marys with his beads. Francisco hesitates, but Tomas gives him his steely, unwavering gaze which means business.

“I’ve called Enrique; he will help us deal with this situation,” Tomas explains to Francisco who seems relieved by this news and goes to deal with the limousine driver.

I turn back to the body and crouch down to get a better look.

“Don’t touch it, it could be a crime scene,” Tomas states.

He’s right.

That’s why Enrique is coming. His cousin works for Interpol and is currently holidaying here in Ibiza.

“We can’t just stand here and not do something. What happens if the person is still alive?”

Tomas frowns.

Ignoring him because I will not stand back and let this person die when we can help, I kneel and the closer I look I realize there is a hooded sweater pulled over their head. I roll the body over and let out a gasp.

“What is it?” Tomas asks, quickly joining me.

“It’s a girl.”

Her face is black and blue. There is dry blood around her nose. Her skin is cold to touch, even with the winter sweater she has on. My hand goes to her neck to feel for a pulse.

“Is she dead?” Tomas asks.

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