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‘THIS IS VERY UNFAIR,’ Elena protested. ‘Let me see.’ Atticus had his hands over her eyes and she couldn’t see a thing. It was very annoying.
‘It’s a surprise,’ he said from behind her, guiding her across sand still warm from the day’s sun. ‘And if I let you see, it would spoil the surprise.’
She sighed. ‘Your logic is both irrefutable and deeply irritating.’
‘I know.’ He finally stopped and took his hands away. ‘You can look now.’
Elena blinked as her eyes adjusted.
It was night, the sky above studded with stars, but in front of her, set on a platform of smooth inlaid rock that faced the beach, was a big white porcelain claw-foot bath. A rock wall sat behind the bath, the taps inset into it, and small tea lights in coloured glass holders had been placed on ledges that looked custom made for that purpose. The flames leapt and flickered and danced, casting shadows everywhere. Around the bath were small trees to give a bit of privacy, and they had been strung with small solar fairy lights, bathing everything in a warm glow. The bath itself was full of gently steaming water, and there were even petals floating in it.
Atticus had said he’d prepared a surprise for her early that afternoon, but she’d never guessed it would be an outdoor bath. They’d been here a few days already and she hadn’t even known it was there.
Then again, they hadn’t ventured much beyond the house, too busy with exploring each other, let alone the island. He had taken her out fishing earlier that day, showing her the rocks in the lagoon and the best places to cast a line. She’d loved it and had been especially excited when she’d caught a fish of her own. He’d prepared it and cooked it for her for dinner that night, and it had been delicious.
In fact, everything about being here with him was delicious, from the long, lazy mornings in bed, to a swim in the clear waters of the lagoon, and lunch in the deck facing the sea. Then usually some more lazy, sun-drenched sex on the deck or on the sand, or in the water, depending on when and where they were at the time, before dinner, that Atticus insisted on preparing himself.
He was also a joy to be with. As soon as they’d arrived it was as if a heavy weight had lifted from him. He was still intense and sharp and focused, but there was an easiness to him, as if something coiled tight inside him had relaxed. He smiled. He laughed. He teased her as if they’d known each other for years, grinning as she teased him back.
He asked her what she’d been doing over the years, listening to her speak as if he’d never heard anything more important in his life. Then he told her about his own past, stories from his days in the army and then as a mercenary in his own private security force. She found it fascinating. She found him fascinating, everything about him, and she hadn’t expected that. Sex and as much pleasure as she could handle, yes. But talking deep into the night with Atticus about Eleos and his mission to save as many people as he could? Telling him about the intricacies and challenges of Kalathes Shipping? Giggling like a schoolgirl as he tickled her feet and then laughing as she poked him in the sides, trying to find out where he was ticklish? No. Not at all.
And then there was how he did everything for her, waiting on her hand and foot, ignoring her completely when she told him she wasn’t helpless and that she could do some things herself. She didn’t mind. After the years of caring for Aristeidis, she secretly loved having someone take care of her for a change.
Tomorrow, he’d promised they’d go snorkelling in the lagoon and then he’d take out the yacht and he’d teach her to sail. And maybe the day after that they’d go into Port Antonio so she could look around and maybe get dinner there.
She loved it. She loved him showing her around the island, taking her to all his favourite places, showing her pieces of himself that no one else knew. He was such a caring man, the evidence not just in how he believed totally in his charity and his mission, but also in how he treated with care the nature he lived in. He showed her how he collected rainwater for the house and recycled the grey water. How he used solar power for everything, collecting sun the way he collected the rain. He showed her the garden where he grew herbs and other greens. He showed her the office where he ran his charity, linked to the rest of the world from this peaceful, quiet place by satellites.
Several times she wondered why he’d taken himself away from society quite so completely, when it was apparent from his visit to Greece that he had no problems actually being around people. She wanted to ask him, but the moment was never quite right. She was loving being with him like this and she didn’t want to destroy the mood with questions that he wouldn’t want to answer.
You wanted to help him find his way back to his father.
She did, but as she stared at the outdoor bath, at the dancing tea lights and the stack of towels on the stone pad, she knew that this was another moment she didn’t want to destroy with questions.
Instead, she turned to him with shining eyes. ‘I love it. It’s amazing.’
He smiled, the flickering flames of the tea lights and the fairy lights overhead casting shadows over his beautiful face and the hard, carved lines of his body. They were both naked and she’d become used to wandering around the island either wearing nothing or merely a light wrap. There was no one to see them and it was too hot for clothes most of the time.
‘Get in,’ he said. ‘The water’s warm.’
So she did, delighted when he got in too, sitting behind her so that she could settle back in his arms, the warm water lapping around them. The night was quiet as most of the nights here were, the only sound the waves on the beach and the wind in the palms.
‘I want to talk to you about our future,’ Atticus said unexpectedly as she felt him pour water over her hair.
She tried not to tense. The future was an unwelcome subject and one she’d been deliberately not thinking about for the past three days, wanting to enjoy the moments she had with him. She knew eventually they’d have to decide what their future would look like and she was pretty sure it would be apart. And she didn’t like the little lurch in her heart the prospect of that gave her. She was supposed to enjoy her honeymoon and then equally enjoy living on her own on Kalifos. She wasn’t supposed to feel a sharp pang of loss at the thought of leaving him.
‘Oh?’ she asked, hoping it sounded casual and not as tense as she felt.
Behind her he turned, reaching over the side of the bath for the bottle of shampoo that stood on a small stool. He put some in his hands and then began lathering her hair. It felt soothing. Over the past couple of days, she’d learned he wasn’t a man who liked to sit still. He always had to be doing something with his hands. She liked that too since what he did with his hands was either something interesting or intensely pleasurable for her.
A deep, animal pleasure stole the tension from her now as those hands moved in her hair and she relaxed back against him.
‘I think we should live together,’ he said. ‘As husband and wife. It can either be here or somewhere else, I don’t mind where as long as it’s not Kalifos.’
Elena’s muscles locked up in shock. She had not expected that he’d want them to live together, especially when he’d been so clear that their marriage was merely for Aristeidis’s will.
‘Why?’ she asked blankly. ‘I thought that—’
‘I know, but I’ve changed my mind.’ He eased her back further against him, then urged her deeper into the water so her hair was submerged. She found herself looking up at him, his black eyes holding hers, the same ferocious expression in them as there’d been the day of their wedding. ‘I want us to have a real marriage,’ he went on. ‘To have a family together. Bring up our children together.’
