Darkness swallows us, erasing everything until only the sky remains.
She sucks in a breath, her head on a pivot, her eyes darting as she takes in the endless scatter of speckled light while the moonlight dances across her face as if even its glow can’t resist her. “It’s beautiful.”
“It is.” My voice comes out rougher than intended. I wrench my gaze from her and return to the safety of the railing, gripping it like a lifeline.
She keeps talking, marveling over the vastness, how the city has never done the night justice, every word reverent and full of wonder despite the circumstances that brought us here.
And all I feel is twisted. Gut tight. Muscles coiled. Because as awe-inspired as she is, the beauty of this moment isn’t real.
There’s no charm in having to remain here for her safety.
Nothing endearing or glamorous about a yacht once owned by a ruthless criminal.
My father gave me and my brothers up because his enemies killed our mother. Slaughtered and tortured her.
Even at a young age I understood what that meant.
Loving someone—claiming them—would paint a target on their back.
So I didn’t indulge my feelings for Isla. I ignored our potential for a fucking decade, convincing myself distance was protection, because who knew if or when my skeletons would escape their closet.
Only I fell victim to temptation within hours of my father’s downfall. Without knowing or sensing his passing. As if the moment he died, the universe sent a memo to my soul.
But even in death my father ruined what could’ve been.
The blood debt is just the beginning.
“Are you going to join me?” Isla asks.
Fuck no.
“I’ve seen it before.” I remain rooted in place, back turned, pretending I can outlast the pull. But the quiet turns dense, and every breath has to be earned.
Her moans still echo in my ears. The memory of her nails is seared into my skin.
I hang my head, grit my teeth, bite back resentment.
I’ve been denied my entire life—a mother, my birth father, the security of a future without complication.
I shouldn’t have to be denied Isla, too.
But it’s necessary. Not only due to the threat of my father’s enemies, but because of the man I would have to become to protect her. The darkness I would have to welcome, after spending a lifetime keeping it at bay.
She exhales a weary breath edged in discomfort.
I turn and find her shifting on the daybed, arms wrapped around herself, her blouse no defense against the cooling air.
I stalk toward her before I can think better of it, shrugging out of my suit jacket. “Here.”
She sits slowly, her gaze locked on mine, cautious yet so fucking alluring.
I curse myself as her arms slide into the sleeves I just vacated, a transfer of heat, of scent, of possession.
The jacket settles against her delicate frame, dwarfing her—a painfully perfect metaphor for how my attempt to protect her only magnifies her fragility.
I need to get out of here. To return the mounting calls on my phone. To place her in my rearview.
Then, so faint I question whether it’s real, she tilts her nose into the collar and inhales.