Page 36 of Forgotten Deeds

No problem, I mouth back. I’m sure Iris has heard much worse on the rare occasion she’s spent the night at her dad’s house.

“How about you?” Kat asks me.

“I’m an undergrad student. I graduate in a few weeks, and then hopefully I’ll be starting up my master’s program—assuming I’m accepted,” I add. Professor Miller’s absence from class is certainly a blessing, but the threat of him sabotaging my grad school acceptance still lingers uncertain.

“Of course you’ll be accepted,” Darius says as if it’s a foregone conclusion.

“Congrats! What’s your major?” Kat asks.

“Classical studies with a minor in Greek mythology.”

“Greek mythology, huh. Seems you have the right ‘boyfriend’ for the job. Hey, Darius, does Theia know—” she begins, but then snaps her mouth shut.

“What’s a Theia?” Iris pounces.

I glance over to Darius, but his face is unreadable.

The captain makes an announcement over the loudspeaker, and soon we’re landing—with much excitement from Iris.

We exit the plane and step into a waiting SUV. Darius drives us on a small, winding road through picture-perfect landscape—the turquoise Aegean Sea juxtaposed against the rocky cliffs dotted with white stucco houses and villas.

We keep going until we reach a small harbor. “We’re taking a boat?” I ask as Darius parks, and we exit the vehicle.

“Not exactly,” he answers cryptically. A man runs over to greet us, and Darius tosses him the keys.

Following another worker down the dock, we come to a stop in front of a yacht named Daniella. Now I understand what Darius meant—nothing about this vessel could be described as a mere boat.

I hold Iris’ hand as we walk across the gangway, and we’re greeted by a crewman who instructs us to remove our shoes before climbing aboard.

“This is amazing,” I say in awe, taking in the opulence of the vessel. We’re given the tour through the salon, and up to the bow of the ship with lounge pillows overlooking nothing but blue skies and turquoise water.

“Whee!” Iris runs over and jumps on a pillow, testing it out with a giggle.

We’re led down a small staircase. “Here is the guest ensuite cabin with twin beds, and the master ensuite cabin for Mr. and Mrs. Angelos.” The crewman points out.

“Darius, just a moment,” I tell him.

“Let’s go check out the snack options,” Kat suggests to Iris, who’s all for that plan.

Pulling him into the bedroom, I close the door, only to realize that was a really dumb move—Darius is looking at me like he’s going to devour me like a snack.

“Yes, wifey?” he says, his hot gaze making me squirm.

“There’s only one bed,” I point out.

He raises an eyebrow. “And?”

“And that’s a problem.”

He smirks. “So you think.”

“I do think!”

“Too much,” he informs me.

“Darius—”

“Mr. Angelos.” There’s a rapping on the door.

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