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“Deal.” I smile. “But you first.”
“My mother gave it to me; it was her father’s actually.”
“Were you close to your mom?” His gaze is so fixated on our fingers that I don’t think he heard me.
“Yes, for a while.” Silence settles between us for a moment. I think the conversation is over but he continues. “When I was younger we were, but things seemed to change as I got older.”
“Did something happen?”
“She said I was turning into my father.” He smirks, letting out a small laugh before finishing his drink. “And like everyone else, she hated my father.”
I want to ask why she hated him but I’m too scared to find out what kind of man his father was—and what kind of man I just married.
“Now,” he says, tugging on my hand so that I fall slightly forward toward him, “answer my question.” His hand is sliding behind my neck, his lips drawing closer to mine.
“There’s only one way I’ll answer the question.” His cocky grin begins to fade as I lean in closer. “And it’s more of a show, rather than tell situation.” I pull back, confident I’ve one-upped him when he takes my hand that’s in his and presses it firmly against his lap. I gasp when he wraps my fingers around his thick length that stretches impossibly long down his thigh.
“Trust me, if I thought you could handle it, I’d make you show me right now.” He grips the back of my neck. “But judging from how you struggled to open wide enough for an oyster shell, there’s not a chance in hell you could open wide enough to handle me.”
“This is unreal,” I whisper to myself as I slide open the doors of the overwater bungalow. The ocean is a vast expanse of crystal clear turquoise waters that seems to stretch on forever. I run over to my bag and grab my phone, snapping several photos to send to Matilda, but they bounce, a failure to deliver notice popping up immediately.
“Shit, no service.” In my excitement, I didn’t even consider that I didn’t have an international phone plan. I quickly put it into airplane mode, not wanting to incur crazy roaming charges.
“No, that’s not the agreement and that won’t be the agreement.” Atlas’ tone is clipped as he barks into his phone in one of the other rooms.
He has been solely focused on work since the second we lifted off in Chicago. Seeing as how he’s a multibillionaire about to take a week off work, I’m not surprised. I just hope it doesn’t interfere with his ability to relax and have a good time.
Too excited to wait any longer, I run into the bedroom. A large glass floor allows us to see the ocean floor. Stingrays dance beneath my feet. “Holy shit!” I fall back onto the massive king-sized bed, the cloudlike comforter engulfing me. I can’t keep the huge grin off my face as tingles burst through my body.
Suddenly I sit up, realizing there’s only one bed. I instinctively want to grab my phone and tell Matilda, but then I realize how weird it would seem to her that I’m excited and surprised that there’s only one bed. My shoulders sag, remembering that I don’t get to share this excitement with anyone else.
I jump up, not wanting to ruin the trip, and riffle through the clothes that were packed for me. They’ve all been hung up or neatly folded. I run my fingers over silk pajama sets that feel luxurious. Next to them are matching bra and panty sets made of lace and buttery soft material. I’m used to buying the five- or ten-pack of cotton underwear, maybe splurging when one of the big chain stores has a five for thirty deal.
After finding the swimsuits, I pull out a simple white bikini and step into the bathroom to put it on. I glance in the mirror; it fits like a glove. I don’t bother with sunscreen or a towel. I simply open the bathroom door and run back out into the main quarters, running as fast as I can and jumping cannonball style into the water.
“Having fun?” I spin around, Atlas standing at the edge of the water, staring at me.
“Yes.” I push my hair back. “Come in. The water feels incredible.” I swim to the ladder, hanging on to it as I try to coax him in.
“In a little bit. I have another call to make.” My heart sinks. “But I promise once I take care of an issue at home, I’ll join you.”
An hour passes, then two and three… By the time he’s off the phone, the entire afternoon has slipped away. I’ve showered, napped, and I’ve started getting ready for dinner.
“Sorry about that.” He steps into the shared bathroom, leaning against the counter as I fasten my earrings.
“I know,” I say with zero emotion. “Work.” I know he can sense the frustration but he ignores it.
“You look beautiful.” I feel him staring at me
“Thank you.” I spritz myself with some perfume and I’m about to step out of the bathroom when he reaches out and grabs my elbow.
“I’m sorry, Stella,” he says more earnestly. “Don’t let it ruin our night?”
“Are you going to be working this entire trip?”
“Not entirely, no, but some, yes.” I don’t hide my disappointment. “Hey.” He steps toward me. “Let me make it up to you.”
“My choice?”
