Azure (Drowning In You) (24 page)

She whole-heartedly agreed but speech had deserted her again. He felt wickedly good, pressed against her, but she needed more. She reached up, brushed silken hair out of his eyes, and kissed him.

He responded fiercely, devouring her mouth, one hand braced by her head, the other stroking her, igniting her all over again. God, he tasted like nothing else in the world, salt and sugar, caramel and bitter almond. Her body hummed with pleasure, her head swam, and still she couldn’t stop kissing him, her fingertips running over the rough stubble of his jaw.

He shifted again, his hand slipping between them, and he pushed into her like a warm wave. She gasped in his mouth, raising her hips, and he pushed harder, groaning. The thick muscles of his thighs moved between her legs and she raked her nails lightly down his back.

He lifted his head, his lips parted, his eyes closing. The lamplight gilded his cheekbones, his long lashes, the corded tendons of his neck. Blue seemed to shimmer down his arms, ripples like sunlight refracting through water. He whispered something that might have been her name and began to move, rolling inside her like the sea.

It felt good, so damn good, and yet it wasn’t enough. She wrapped a leg around his, shifting closer, making him gasp out loud. Jagged shadows fell on his face, on his soft lips. Sweat rolled in glistening paths down his chest, muscles standing out in stark relief on his arms and stomach. His breathing quickened as he moved faster, his arms trembling on either side of her.

Pleasure crashed into her, rising higher and higher, until her eyes rolled back and she arched her neck, her hands gripping his shoulders. She cried out, shaking, as time snapped and hurtled her into the void. She tumbled, pleasure zipping along her nerves, electric aftershocks jolting her, as Kai hissed, his head bowed. His lips pulling back in a grimace, he rocked into her one last time, his whole body vibrating, and he stilled, panting hard.

 
“Holy shit,” he whispered and laid himself on top of her, elbows planted on either side of her head, supporting his weight. He nipped at her lips, kissed her, then rolled off and stretched by her side. “That was...” He gave a breathless laugh and she smiled.

“Mind-blowing?” she provided, winking.

“Mind-blowing, yeah. Fucking beautiful.” He blinked at her, stroked a fingertip down her throat. His chocolate eyes were somber. “You are that.”

She snuggled closer until their noses almost touched, his arm curling around her. “I like being with you.”
I love your body, your voice, your taste, your smile, I love so much about you. Don’t let the sea have you.

Kai’s eyes were hooded, his breathing slowing. He was falling asleep. “I’d sell my soul to stay with you,” he whispered.

***

Sunlight teased Olivia’s eyes. It was quiet, the curtains fluttering at the windows and the buzz of the wind the only sound. Not even the cicadas had woken up yet.

She was alone in the hut.

Throwing off the sheets, she swung her legs off the bed and stared at her bare legs. She was naked, and the realization brought back in a rush the memories of the previous night.

The taverna over the aqueduct. Kai fleeing something her friends had said. The drive back. The sex.

She grinned down at her toes. He thought she was beautiful, and he was...
gorgeous
didn’t begin to describe him. Hot and sexy. Cute. And also nice. Considerate. Fun.

Raking her fingers through her salt-stiffened hair, she got up to gather her clothes. He was everything she thought he might be, and she wanted to know more. She paused as she put on her bikini. What was he hiding? What was his secret?

Panos said it hadn’t been his fault, but what did that mean? What exactly had happened?

She pulled on her dress and stood at the door, looking down at the choppy sea. She thought she saw Kai swimming out in the open, but wasn’t sure. Shaking her head, she returned indoors. A note on the rickety table caught her eye.

‘Didn’t want to wake you up. I’ve gone swimming. Kai.’

She could wait for him down on the rocks. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail and sat on the bed to put on her sandals.

Something lay under the bed. A book. Its cover was a faded green, its pages dog-eared. When she picked it up, it had no dust or sand on it. As if someone read it often.

‘
Myra
Crow. Poems.’

She leafed through it. No notes in the margins. This wasn’t a student’s book. Besides, what had Kai said his major was? Architecture? What a coincidence that he seemed to be so fond of Markus’s favorite poet.

Or was it because of the place? Markus said Myra Crow had died in
Crete
.

Had drowned, in fact, in the area.

Cold sweat trickled down Olivia’s back. She turned the book over. On the back, there was a picture of a young woman with a mop of dark hair. She was smiling, a sweet, faint smile. A short biography was printed below.

A great voice of her generation. Born in
Massachusetts
. English professor. Lived on
Crete
for a while. Taught in several universities. Lyrical poet with dark themes.

Olivia’s attention returned to the photo. She traced a fingertip over Myra Crow. Her smile. There was something familiar about it, something nagging at Olivia’s memory. And those dark brows, straight like pencil strokes.

Who did she remind her of?

“Why did you live on
Crete
?” Olivia whispered. “Why would an English professor want to live here?” Was there a university in the region? It was a beautiful place, but not the best place to advance one’s academic career.

Olivia turned to the first page.
Poems. A collection of my youth. Printed in
New York
.
She didn’t know the publisher.

She flipped the page and froze. Printed on top of the page was the dedication.

‘To my son Kyler.’

And below, in faint, looping letters was inked:
‘My sunshine boy, don’t let the sea take you. Love you, always. Mom.’

***

Olivia left the book where she’d found it and scrawled a note below Kai’s, letting him know she was heading back to the hotel to shower and change.

Sand blew, stinging her shins as she walked down the path. She stared down at her feet, not really seeing anything, her mind a whirlwind. It threw scraps of memories at her — Kai who didn’t want to read, who paled when she told him she studied English literature, and had a panic attack when Markus mentioned Myra Crow. Or was it when Kirsten had quoted that bit about his father — what was it? Being at the bottom of the sea?

‘An accident,’
Panos had said.
‘The sea can’t take him. He’s of the sea.’

Jesus, what had happened?

Panos was there, behind the desk, when she entered the hotel. He looked up, his bushy brows drawing together.

“Good morning,” he said, eyeing her outfit. “Go swim, like Kai? Storm today.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Not for Kai.”

She nodded, her thoughts still swirling like blood down a drain.
Right
.

“Make him laugh again?” Panos gave her a hopeful look.

She had to think about that. Yesterday seemed like years ago. “Yes.” She remembered tickling Kai at the beach, playing in the waves. “Yes, I did.”

“Good.” Panos nodded and held out her key. “Good.”

She took it, clutching it so tight its ridges burned into her palm. “Thanks.”

“Are you okay?” Panos leaned forward, his big hands flat on the desk.

“I’m worried,” she confessed, not even knowing why she did it. “About Kai.”

“He swim good. Winter, storm. No problem. Is the curse.” Panos shrugged. “Breathe in water, like fish.”

Yeah, funny.
“He’s human, Panos. He can die in a storm just like everyone else. Hell, boats are made to float and they sink sometimes. How would he survive it?” Fear clenched her insides. “Maybe we should go look for him.”

“No.” Panos gave a grave shake of his head. “Boat sink, Kai survive. Everyone die in storm. He swim.”

Okay, rewind.
“He was on a boat that sank?”

“Accident,” Panos said, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Many years ago.”

Oh god.
There it was. “Myra Crow,” Olivia whispered. “Kai’s mother.”

“He tell you.” Panos rubbed his eyes. “Yes. He lose everything. Almost go crazy.” He blinked. “Now you understand.”

Understand what? Kai had survived a wreckage that had killed his mother. Talk about a traumatic experience.

“Why did he come back?”

“I tell him,” Panos said. “Young. Should go study, have life. He live like a wild man, in hut, in sea.” He gestured at her pendant. “You have magic. Tell him.”

“What about his father?” She was still clutching the key. “Where is he?”

Panos took a step back from the desk, eyes narrowed. “He not tell you everything.”

An understatement
. Cold dread gripped her. “Panos?”

“Father, mother, friends. Gone. He lose everything to the sea.” Shaking his head, Panos turned and hurried away.