The flavor of the re-heatable sausage, biscuits and orange juice she’d found in the mostly-empty freezer still lingered on her tongue as her eyes ran him across the table, always amazed at his ripped body. His six-pack abs were just as taut as ever, showing no signs of the massive meal he’d just demolished. Neither did his washboard pecs, hulking biceps, and broad shoulders, all of which seemed to be flexing and relaxing, over and over, just to torture her. Just to remind her how royally she’d screwed up. Whatever godly sculptor had gone at him with a chisel and mallet on the day he’d been born was surely shaking his head at her from up above too. Deeming her completely unworthy of the man he had spent so much time laboring over, with great patience and care, until his every bulging muscle had reached absolute perfection.
How dare she neglect such a priceless work of art? Not just a man so externally beautiful she could scream, but internally beautiful as well. A father doing everything in his power to save his daughter. Who loved his daughter deeply enough to put everything on the line. A father truly dedicated to a little girl he’d never even met. If that wasn’t beauty, Mia didn’t know what was.
She gave a heavy sigh, shoulders sinking as the knot in her belly grew tighter at the memories of her foolishness. She could only hope, as he typed a number into his phone, that this would fix it.
His raised his scarred eyebrow while meeting her eyes across the table, putting the phone to his ear.
Mia straightened when the green eyes he’d been depriving her of finally locked onto hers like a puppy standing at attention in preparation for a meal.
“You ready?” he asked.
She breathed in deeply when the buttery bass of his voice, which he’d also been robbing her off all morning, reached across the table and stroked her skin like cocoa butter.
“Ready.” She nodded sharply, determined to right what she’d wronged.
The phone on his ear must’ve still been ringing because he added, “We only have twenty seconds. Make it count.”
“It’ll be the performance of my life.”
He nodded, and she saw the moment Malik picked up the phone on the other line. She could tell by the way Linc’s green eyes grew almost as gloomy as the gray clouds hiding the morning sun outside. The way his breathing picked up so loudly it drowned out the soft trickle of sprinkling rain against the canal waters. Waters that had risen several inches overnight, leaving the city of Venice completely flooded.
“Emma for Mia,” Linc growled into the phone, adhering to his twenty-second rule by getting right to the point. Whatever Malik said on the other line caused his green eyes to harden even more. For his fists to clench tight. He looked at Mia. “Yeah? Well, I’d hate to have to return your wife to you disfigured beyond recognition.”
Linc paused, presumably listening to Malik’s response. It must’ve been a sour one, because Linc cringed, his jaw tightening as he met Mia’s eyes once more and whirled his finger through the air.
Seeing the cue they’d agreed upon earlier, Mia took the edge of the table in both hands, drew in a deep breath, and then screamed at the top of her lungs. The kind of scream most people only heard while watching a horror movie. A horror movie where the knife-wielding killer had just grabbed the heroine’s hair from behind, seconds after she’d breathed a sigh of relief, believing she was home free. Mia’s gut-churning scream filled the small room and petered out of the open windows as well, surely startling the hell out of their neighbors.
She screamed until her lungs burned too badly to continue, and then she began to weep, her voice hoarse with terror. Her wide eyes even filled with tears as she got into the part, gasping heavily through her strangled cries.
“I just broke a finger,” Linc said, giving his attention back to the phone. “If you don’t come with my daughter, two days from today, I’ll break the other nine, and then I move onto the face. Ask yourself how bad a battered wife will look to your loyal constituents before you decide to send your goons after me again.”
A smile laced Mia’s lips when she heard Malik screaming through the phone, so irate that she heard his every profane word, even as they came muffled through the receiver.
Linc ended the call in the middle of Malik’s rant, and silence filled the room once more.
Their eyes met across the table.
He smiled.
And her heart skipped a beat.
Perhaps she hadn’t ruined everything after all. “Was I convincing?”
He tossed the phone, letting it clatter down onto the table. “Very. Even my heart stopped for a minute after that loud ass scream.”
She clapped her hands together with a beaming smile.
His eyes fell to drink in the sight, a little softer than they had been before.
“Do you think the city will be drained in two days?” Mia asked.
“Better be.”
She searched his face, the memories of the small smile he’d just given her, lighting a fire in her belly. “Well, we might as well take advantage before that day comes.”
He raised his eyebrows at her.
Biting her bottom lip, she stood from the table and moved out of the kitchen, passing the bed and making her way toward the open double doors of the balcony. Her heart raced when she leaned on the railing and looked down to the narrow canal where the water had risen so high it had swallowed up the bridges that connected the apartment buildings lining either side of the water. Bridges that had been completely clear just a day before were now completely submerged. Mother nature had made her point by closing Venice entirely. Leaving every gondola parked for the day. Rendering the once vibrant city as quiet as a mouse. Like a watery ghost town.
With the memory of Linc’s smile at the table behind her still fresh in her mind, Mia knew this was the ultimate test. The ultimate indicator of whether he’d ever be able to find it in his heart to forgive her. No man who had real feelings for a woman—especially a woman he had yet to sleep with—could help himself from watching her walk away from any table. This was doubly true when the object of his affection was wearing nothing but a towel. If she’d gotten across the room, bent over the balcony rails, looked over her shoulder and found his eyes on anything but her—that was it. She’d lost him. So much so that it would be impossible to get him back.
So when she took a deep breath—filling her nostrils with the fresh scent of rain—peeked over her shoulder, and found his green orbs locked to hers, she couldn’t fight the beaming smile that crossed her face. The blush that warmed her cheeks. The sensation of her heartbeat picking up pace sent blood gushing to her center and made her pussy lips swell. His gaze, riveted to her from over his own shoulder, as he leaned forward on the table, fell to the valley between her legs as if he could sense it. As if he could sense the blood surging through her veins and straight to her center. As if he could smell it across the room. He licked his lips.
She pushed away from the railing while tucking her hair—also damp from that morning’s shower—behind her ears. Her gaze shifted to the yellow bear still sitting on the foyer table, and she lingered on the sight before looking back to him.
He lifted his eyes back up to hers, holding her gaze across the room.
“Let’s take advantage.” Her voice was soft in the way only a woman hungry to reel a man in could be. “How many times will the opportunity to go swimming in a flooded Venice quarter present itself again?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Swimming?”
“Swimming.” Her voice grew defensive. “Swimming. Splashing. Playing. Living.”
He smirked.
The sight lit her soul on fire. “I suspect you haven’t let yourself live in years.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I guess you haven’t really been allowed to.”
Something dark flashed across his face, but the shadowy look didn’t form itself into words.
Gaze still locked to his, Mia tilted her head and dipped her fingers into the tie of her towel.
His eyes fell to watch, jaw clenching.
She turned away before he could respond, moving toward the door without looking back. The legs of his chair disagreed with the wood floors a moment later. The sound put a smile on her face, and the boom of his heavy stomps coming up behind her made it spread to twice its size.
26
“Come on, Linc,” Mia cried, sinking into the warm water of the narrow canal just outside their building, her voice echoing in the tight enclosure. “The water’s great. It’s not cold, at all.”
“Why do you have such a problem keeping your clothes on?” Lingering inside the open double doors of the building, Linc’s broad frame remained slightly shadowed from where he stood in the middle of the staircase, right where the water had stopping rising on the flooded first floor. He clenched his teeth. “Get back inside. Let’s go.”
She smiled, reveling in the warm water tickling her nipples, making them perk up even more than the tightly-wound man before her, did himself. The water lapping at the skin of her bare pussy made the grin on her face grow, feeling naughty as she continued backpedaling, the water saturating her hair and making her head feel twice as heavy. She did a little swirl, squealing the whole time, laughing when she faced him again, where he still scowled from inside building.
“It’s so beautiful out here.” She looked back and forth. Her words strained from the exertion of swimming. She noticed even the cut on her foot felt soothed by being under the surface. “Linc, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Will you please join me?”
Apprehension flashed across his face. His abs tightened, and so did his fisted hands. The muscle in his jaw that loved to rotate like a rolling pin remained hard at work. The exasperated roll of his eyes joined the party. Even as those eyes of his rolled, however, his fisted hands still managed to unclench and find their way into the tie of the towel hanging on by a prayer at the V in his hips.
He hesitated.
She held her breath, gaze riveted to the deep, chiseled V, drawing in a sharp gasp when he dropped the towel, revealing the dick she’d always known was long and thick but whose beauty she still hadn’t been prepared for. Hard, pink, incredible. Her channel clenched tight, sending warm shockwaves racing all over her body. Warming it up so much that the water suddenly felt way too hot. Like she was treading the surface of a sauna and not a flooded Venice passageway.
His dick stood to attention as he made his way down the stairs, eyes never leaving hers. Then he was submerged in the water too, looking her right in the eye as he swam languidly toward her, long hair lapping against the water.
With every stroke that brought him closer, Mia took two strokes away, letting him follow her, chase her, all the way to the end of the narrow canal and into the larger body of water it was connected to.
Into the Grand Canal of Venice.
“God, look at this!” She beamed, doing circles in the water as she paddled deeper into the ancient waterway of the abandoned Grand Canal, hardly able to believe her eyes. “Linc, have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”
“Never.”
She looked at him only to find his eyes locked to hers, half of his face submerged underwater as he paddled after her, his gaze lighting hers on fire.
“No,” she beamed, finally ceasing her dog-paddling in the middle of the quarter, treading water before splashing him. “Not me, silly! Look around.”
With what appeared to be great reluctance, he broke his eyes away from her and looked around the canal. Mia heard the exact moment his breath caught in his throat. The exact moment when he took in the sprawling, time-honored waterway that went on for over two miles. Drawing a leisurely S-shaped path throughout Venice before eventually spilling to the immense Venetian Lagoon, an enclosed bay of the Adriatic Sea.
She came to her toes in the water that she guessed was now almost six feet deep since it reached her upper lip. Less than an inch above her nostrils. She enjoyed the sight of him taking in the view.
“Wow,” he breathed—also standing underwater— as his gaze landed on the aged white stone of The Rialto Bridge. The oldest bridge in Venice and one of its architectural icons greeted him from a few hundred feet down the water. At twenty-four feet high, the arch of the bridge had escaped the worst of the flood. Still completely untouched by the rising waters.
Each end of the bridge was lined with rows of Venetian shops, now abandoned on the quiet canal. Each shop boasted its own unique, slightly faded color, aesthetic and design, selling jewelry, linens, and other touristy items. Unlike the Rialto Bridge, the shops hadn’t escaped Mother Nature’s wrath—their floors flooded, along with the once bone-dry sidewalks outside of them. Hundreds of colorful gondola boats went abandoned as well. Tied down to wooden beams that shot from the water’s depths and lined the channel as far as the eye could see. In the distance, the San Simone Piccolo church jutted out from the long line of beautiful buildings. Its striking turquoise copper dome making itself known against the storm cloud laden sky.
Water still sprinkled down from those gray clouds, albeit so softly, Mia could barely feel it. The drizzle showered onto the water and bounced pleasantly off the surface, the droplets dotting their skin. She swam toward Linc, who was still taking it all in. Nearly six inches taller than her, the water ended just below his chin, even though he was clearly standing on the beds of his feet. Not forced to bounce on her toes like her.
Apparently sensing her bopping struggle, he returned his attention to her and swam closer.
She screamed when he splashed her, her head disappearing under the water before she re-emerged for revenge, splashing him back with all her might, drawing a laugh from his lips. She took hold of his shoulders and used their strength to push herself up and out of the water, panting heavily after swimming non-stop for several minutes, and then stacked her hands on top of his head, dunking him under the surface.
He was too fast, however, and the strength of his arms was around her waist just before he went under, taking her below the surface with him. They kicked and thrashed under the water, both of them fighting to keep the other under the water before Mia couldn’t take it anymore and came back up for air.
A gasping breath left her lips and filled the quiet canal as she surfaced. “I can’t breathe!”
He came up for air as well, with a glorious smile on his face, the deep base of his laughter drowning out her frantic breaths.
“I can’t breathe,” she said, less urgently this time, her arms slapping against the water a little more violently than before. Like a child who hadn’t yet learned how to swim properly.
Still chuckling, Linc swam closer. “Come here.”
She gasped when he grabbed her waist again, but this time to pull her closer, not to take her under. She searched his eyes, saying a silent prayer of thanks to the God’s raining down on them above for letting her know the feel of his skin against hers once again. Of his naked body—his hard, muscled stomach—pressing against hers when he pulled her in. His solid pecs as her bare breasts and hard nipples smashed into them. His insistent fingers warming her thighs as he wrapped each of them around his waist. Of his erection between her legs once again, making her skin prickle pleasantly.
“You tried to drown me,” she accused, her words still fractured by her out of control breathing as she locked her arms around his shoulders, giving him all of her weight under the water, which was already making them both feel lighter. “You tried to drown me.”
“Yeah, well, you put a nail in my neck, so…”
“You kidnapped me.”
“You broke a lamp over my head.”
“You tied me up.”
He squeezed her waist, tickling her sides under the water and drawing a squeal from her. “You put a knife to my chest.”
“You made me step on br
oken glass!” She giggled, wiggling under the water, her natural reflexes making her jolt in anticipation of his next squeeze.
“You led me on,” he countered, drawing a stunned silence from her.
She gaped at him. “I didn’t lead you on. Yesterday was…”
She didn’t finish.
For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed frustrated at her silence. Holding her eyes with an unwavering intensity that begged her to finish that sentence.
She was still too hesitant to speak her heart’s deepest desire. Worried it would ruin that amazing moment. Taint their once in a lifetime swim with the darkness of the truth.
The truth.
That they would soon be saying goodbye. That they would have no choice but to. Because Emma’s life depended on it.
“Doesn’t it feel good?” she asked, willing those thoughts away, tightening her hold around his neck, their faces inches apart. “Just letting go? Even for only a little while?”
“Yeah.” He brushed the tip of his nose against hers. “It kind reminds me of home. Back in Shadow Rock. California’s not as old or historical, obviously, but… the water. The tight spaces. The beauty mixed in with the grit. Feels like home.”
She swallowed thickly, sinking her fingers into his hair, loving that she was allowed to do that again. “Shadow Rock is on the water?”
“An island, yeah. People loved to call it ‘sleepy’, but that place was far from sleepy.”
“Are your friends and family still there?”
“A few. One of them moved out here, though, to London. Few years back.”
“Is it the same friend who’s been helping you out with throwaway cars and safe-houses in outrageously expensive cities?”
He cocked his head back.
Mia pressed. “Like I said before. You can’t be buying them on your own.”
“What’s got you so convinced I’m broke?”
“Your clothing. Your dialect. Your attitude.”
Captive Page 18