Page 41 of Possession

This is going to be a lonely life.

I push off the wall and make it halfway across the pool before I have to come up for air. I can swim, but I’m no athlete. My form is shit and I zig-zag across the pool, but I’m antsy, and there’s nothing else to do to pass the time.

When I reach the other side in a path that looks like Lombard Street, I grip the wall while I catch my breath.

“I see you found a way to entertain yourself.”

I twist when the deep voice hits me from behind me and swipe my hair away. Boz is standing at the edge of the pool with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

I do not appreciate his tone.

“You told me to find something to do.” I look around to see if we’re alone, though I’m not sure that matters. He said we’re never alone. “You told me not to leave. You never said I couldn’t swim.”

He exhales a dramatic breath and turns to glare toward the wall that lines the property.

“What is your problem?” I demand.

He drops his arms and looks down at me. “Come here.”

My gaze darts around to try to figure out what he was looking at as I whisper, “Why?”

He squats at the edge and points to the spot in front of him, but says nothing. His man sign language is loud and clear.

Or maybe I read it loud and clear, because I let go of the edge and swim through the deep end where he’s waiting for me. And not patiently if his glare is any indication.

I get to the edge in front of him and hold on from an arms-length while I continue to tread water. “What?”

He crooks a finger at me. “Closer, baby.”

It’s not lost on me that I’m barely dressed, and he’s completely dressed. But just like when we’re alone yet being watched, he always finds a way to make sure we’re close.

Likeclose.

I pull myself to the wall.

He reaches into the water and dips a finger beneath the thin tie that is solely keeping me from being topless. One tug and my breasts will be floating bare between us.

I hold steady, but suck in a breath to prepare.

Goosebumps cover my body when his index finger runs hot across my skin. “Where did you get this?”

I try not to gape, because until now, he’s seemed like a pretty bright guy. I have no clue what his business skills are like, but he’s gotten me out of one tight jam after another. If nothing else, he’s street smart, but it seems I have to remind him of my less-than-ideal situation. “Did you forget that you brought me here with nothing to my name but a bloody wedding dress? This was in my closet. Which, by the way, if you think you can swing it, I’d like to know who shopped for me. Not only do they have impeccable taste, but they are incredibly skilled at fitting strangers. I’d like to thank them.”

My bikini top cinches up on one side when he wraps his thick finger around the tie and pulls me closer to him. “If I find out who picked this out for you, I’ll make sure they never work for the Marinos again.”

I reach up and grab his hand to push it away, but I’m afraid he’ll rip off my top since he’s essentially tied himself to me. “What is your problem?”

“Baby, do you know how many men are watching you right now? I’m not saying it’s not fine, but your ass is as bare as a full moon.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s called a thong, Boz. You’re either from the dark ages or the bikini police. How old are you, anyway, grandpa?”

The tie to my bikini top tightens further. “They’re watching you. Or, I should say, they’re watching your ass.”

“Have you been to the beach in the last decade, dear husband? This is what everyone my age wears. I’m not naked.”

His tone is low and rough. “You might as well be.”

I try to relax my expression as my hand tightens around his. “They’ll get even more of an eyeful if you don’t let go of my top, Boz.”

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