Page 204 of Merciless Daddy

“I don’t want to.”

“The dock has splinters.”

“I will bravely face them.”

“No.”

Her mouth curved. “No?”

“No.”

She kicked off the sandals anyway and walked toward the dock barefoot.

I caught her before she reached it.

“Sal.”

“You were warned.”

“I was exercising my free will.”

“You were being a menace to yourself.”

I lifted her into my arms.

She made an outraged sound, then wrapped her arms around my neck, then tenderly kissed my cheek.

On the boat home, she sat beside me beneath a blanket. The harbor lights grew smaller behind us. Her head rested against my shoulder while she wrote in the firebird notebook.

After several minutes, she turned the book toward me.

I want a home with you.

For a moment, I could not breathe. The words were written in dark ink. Careful. No hedge around them. No joke.

I touched the page.

Then I looked at her.

“I want that too,” I said.

Her eyes shone.

I kissed her, mouth fitting to hers like it was made for this. The first pass was gentle—hesitant even, like I could lose her with a single rough move. But she made a tiny, involuntary sound, a hungry one, and my chest went molten. I held her close, the line of her back arching into my hands. Her lips parted under mine and I lost what little patience I had.

Her nails dug into my shoulders, then slid up into my hair, anchoring me. It was all I could do not to press her against the bar and let everyone see how I wanted her. She tasted like sun and salt and the pink drink, citrus and sugar, pure Yelena. Her legs tangled with mine. She pulled me with her body, no wasted motion, no hiding from the heat. I had to stop myself from marking her right then, teeth on her neck, hands roaming everywhere.

We kissed until my lungs burned. When she broke away, she was breathless, face flushed gold by the last of the sun. She hid her face in my shoulder for a second, laughing in quiet, shivery bursts. I couldn’t get enough of the shape of her. I wanted to take her home. I wanted to give her everything she’d ever missed. I wanted the rest of the world to disappear.

When she finally looked up, her lipstick was ruined and her smile was wild.

“Home?” she said.

“Home,” I said, so low it was closer to a promise than a word.

At the villa, she took my hand and led me upstairs.

There was no formal scene. No rules written down. No performance required.