Third a Kiss (Goddess Isles #3) - Pepper Winters Page 0,40

overflowing crops of mesclun, baby lettuce, and bok choy, while a roofed patio protected delicate watercress and bean sprouts.

The orchards were next, the manicured rows of almond, hazelnut, and walnut all interlinked and producing bushels of nuts per year. The mandarins, apples, and stone fruits bordered that field, also decorated with pansies, wildflowers, and favourite weeds of bees.

I glanced down at my hands as I followed Eleanor. The wounds from the scratches Calico had given me had scabbed, leaving condemning trails in my flesh that cracked when I flexed my fingers.

It was only fitting that she’d marked me after what I’d done to her.

Neptune and Jupiter were fine. They’d come out of their strangle-induced siesta and were no worse for wear. Like Eleanor, they’d been given a scan to ensure their lack of oxygen hadn’t caused brain damage or unseen complications, and comprehensive tests to make sure none would suffer from my rage.

However, unlike Eleanor, who I’d given my fucking soul to the minute Pika shot down her dress, just daring me to remove him from her perfect breasts, those two had been given different accommodations for the night.

The cage Eleanor had become acquainted with now had two new inhabitants.

The quarters were tight enough for one. Two would be…uncomfortable.

They didn’t deserve to die, but they hadn’t served enough punishment, not yet.

My fingers curled, activating fresh beads of blood to flow from my wounds. They hadn’t served nearly enough. They’d. Hurt. Her. They’d tried to murder her. They would no longer be given free rein on my island or treated like goddesses.

Their immortality had been revoked.

I had plans for them tomorrow, just like Calico.

I gritted my teeth.

Calico.

Unfortunately, I’d hurt her the most. Unwittingly or premeditated—I would never answer that question—but she was alive and that was all that mattered.

I hadn’t taken her life.

But I had taken her voice.

According to Dr Campbell, I’d caused fractures to the cartilage in her larynx, damaging her vocal cords.

It didn’t impede her ability to breathe, but after an extensive examination, he wasn’t sure she’d ever regain the full range of pitch.

Guilt had started the moment I’d visited the three goddesses—after he’d called me to take Jinx to her villa. Self-loathing had followed swift on its heels when he’d jerked me to the side and given me an ultimatum.

Stop who I was.

Stop doing what I did.

Or…he’d quit and wouldn’t be quiet about who he talked to.

He willingly put himself in my line of fire, knowing I would have to remove his ability to destroy my enterprise, but also hesitant to harm someone who proved as trustworthy as any human could.

He at least gave me a heads-up about his betrayal…giving me time to fix what I’d broken before I had to deal with him.

Eleanor stopped up ahead.

Her white and silver dress swung around her hips as she coughed gently and turned back to face me. Her voice held a huskier depth than before, the discoloration around her neck bringing mixed results of shame and desire.

I froze as she padded back toward me, her bare feet and slim ankles a fucking aphrodisiac, even though my body hadn’t fully recovered from elixir.

She licked her lips, smoothing her dress and smiling softly as Pika and Skittles shot past, flying from fruit to fruit, destroying and indulging on whatever they wanted.

I waited until she stood in front of me, her grey eyes still molten from our moment in the boat. When I’d laughed…I’d shocked both of us.

I’d forgotten I was capable of such a thing.

It’d felt foreign. Wrong.

But also familiar. Right.

The way she stared at me had ensured whatever language we’d traded in, steadily learning more phrases the deeper we fell, had switched from unknown into fully understandable.

A look wasn’t just a look now.

A touch wasn’t just a touch.

I heard what her look said.

I knew what her touch promised.

And the way she’d watched me as I’d stopped mid-laugh, confused and conflicted, swallowing back the outlandish sensation, had grabbed a bullhorn and told me everything I needed to know.

She loved me.

Despite what I’d done, because of what I’d done, regardless of who I was and what I did, she loved me.

I knew it in my fucking bones, but it didn’t mean I trusted it.

Not at all.

Why should I trust something that was a simple cocktail of chemicals and body chemistry? She thought she cared, but she’d conveniently ignored the circumstances of our meeting and the complications of our future.

My own parents loved me and look at the level of treason they were capable