my words, then bit off, “If you’re always thinking of me, then you shouldn’t put yourself in danger, should you? What the fuck would I do in this shitty world without you in it?”
My throat felt tight again, but rather than reply, rather than say I understood, I reached down and covered the hand he’d pushed into my belly to prop me up.
Blanketing it, I squeezed gently. I knew he understood when he just sighed and pressed a kiss to the place he’d bitten.
The next ten minutes were a blur. Concierge took us up to our apartment, and we were guided down marble-lined halls toward our accommodation.
I didn’t really listen to what the guy had to say, even though I knew Adam was taking mental notes about the best restaurants in the area and such. Me? I didn’t come here for that, I came here for the beach.
The second we were inside, I rushed over to the window. Ignoring the sleek leather sofa, the glass and silver adornments, the modern kitchen, and swank amber-gold tiles beneath our feet, I dashed to the wall of glass and hurriedly opened the doors wide.
The second I did, the roar of the tide flushed through me. We were on the first line, nothing between the ocean and us but a thin road, and the air was even stickier up here with salt. The endless coastal vista had delight whirling through me.
I’d seen the pictures but hadn’t expected this.
The sun beamed down, creating a little spotlight on the beach, and I sighed in delight as I saw a few intrepid joggers ignoring the threat of the storm in the air as they ran down the sandy shore.
The water was gray, a little murky. Not a bright blue like I’d anticipated, but the roar from the waves was such that it didn’t come as a surprise. The sand on the seabed was agitated, turning the water an odd color, but it didn’t stop me from wanting to be in it.
A wall of glass balustrades propped me up as I stared out onto a view that would be with me until the day I died.
Something that was set in stone the second Adam moved behind me, his heat at my back, as he settled his chin on my shoulder.
I wasn’t sure this could have been more perfect if I’d planned it.
I’d thought I’d be here alone. I’d thought I’d come here to lick my wounds, even as I celebrated my record-breaking strike at the Olympics.
I’d thought I’d come to distance myself from Adam, from what we meant to each other, from that night when Lori, damn her hide, had given him her keycard so he could come into my room and reclaim me as his.
Instead, I was here with him.
Weak...always weak.
The words should have stung, but it surprised me when they didn’t.
I was strong, incredibly so. I was a survivor. But I couldn’t always keep my defenses up, and certainly not with this man at my back.
“You need to sleep,” he rumbled.
“You’re not supposed to sleep until it’s night here. You know that’s how jet lag works.”
His lips twitched as he pressed them to my jawline. “I had plans for us before we slept.”
“You did, huh?”
My body, though fatigued, not only from the flight but from the intensity of the Games, sparked to life at that.
“I definitely did.”
I thought about that, and my body concurred—we were totally okay with his plan.
“I want to shower first.”
He nodded then stepped away from me, and I loved him even more for knowing I wouldn’t want to shower with him.
I was head to toe mahrime at the moment. I didn’t stink, but I was sweaty and dirty, and I didn’t want him touching me like this.
Old habits died hard, and even though I didn’t abide by any of my culture’s rules anymore, cleanliness wasn’t something I could compromise on. It was too ingrained in me.
So I showered alone, even though I’d have liked to feel him inside me as I stood beneath the luxurious showerhead that felt like rain against my skin.
Maybe another time.
When I was clean.
I hummed at the thought, then got busy. I soaped up, shaved everything in sight, then rinsed and repeated twice more. When I was pretty much squeaking, I dried off, moisturized, then curled the damp towel around me.
I had no intention of having anything between me and Adam in bed, but the apartment had so many windows—so many. Like banks of windows on three of