The City

by London Miller

  “You didn’t have to do that, Mish.”

  “I wanted to.”

  “But I’m not packed for a honeymoon!”

  Smiling, he patted the bag that he’d had Amber put together for him the day she and Lauren had gone shopping, knowing that she would be more than happy to do it.

  “You have great friends.”

  “I don’t know if I’ve told you, but I love you, Mish. More than you’ll ever know.”

  It took ages and multiple flights to get from Michigan to Sardinia. Though she was tired, Lauren was far too excited to get there to do much sleeping. Mishca was asleep beside her. Earlier, he had reached over, curling his hand around her thigh. Even in his sleep, his hold was possessive. She often wondered if he would ever get over doing that.

  It also didn’t help that she had to go to the restroom while he was still holding her. She tried to carefully lift his hand without waking him, but as she tried to free her leg, he spoke with surprising clarity. It was as though he hadn’t been asleep, but his eyes were still closed.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Restroom. Go back to sleep.”

  “Don’t be long.”

  Always demanding. She slid out into the aisle, heading toward the facilities that were only a short distance away. The restroom was clean—cleaner than she was expecting, though it shouldn’t have been surprising since they were in first class—and when she finished, washing her hands in the basin, she took a moment to appreciate where she was going and who she was with.

  When she thought of their honeymoon, this hadn’t been what she originally planned, but all thoughts of it had been forced from her mind when he’d been shot. Some nights she still woke up in a panic, her hand drifting over his chest, feeling the strong and steady beat of his heart beneath her touch. He was understanding and always made it a point to pull her into his side until she fell back asleep.

  Now that he was fully healed—and she would only accept that assertion from his doctor—it made her feel a little better. Things were relatively back to normal and she was happy about it.

  Returning to her seat, Lauren stretched her legs out, nearly laughing when Mishca reached over, resting his head on her shoulder, his hand returning to her leg.

  “We’ve been in this damn place for hours,” he complained, relaxing beneath her when she began playing with the silky strands of his hair.

  “You’re the one who chose Sardinia, Mish.”

  “Remind me never to do that again.”

  This time getting their luggage wasn’t that easy. Standing there, Mishca’s bags had come around, even the special bag he’d brought for her, but for whatever reason, Lauren’s hadn’t shown.

  “Could be worse,” Lauren said trying to lighten Mishca’s darkening mood.

  Truthfully, she was just excited about being out of the country more than she was worried about what was now lost in her luggage. There wasn’t anything particularly irreplaceable within it, so that was a good thing.

  “How might that be?”

  “I could have gotten taken by a cute guy outside this airport.”

  He held on to his frown, but his eyes were smiling. “No more TV.”

  Laughing, she followed him over to the help desk, acutely aware of the attention they were drawing. She doubted it was because of Mishca’s status; more likely it was because of how big he was compared to the smaller Italian women.

  While Mishca might have been frustrated, he tempered his agitation, speaking calmly and quietly to the man seated behind the desk. From the way he hesitated over the certain word, it was clear he wasn’t as familiar with Italian as he was with French and Russian. Reaching into her carry-on, she hunted for the pocket edition Italian-English dictionary she’d bought from their last stop. While she had been on the plane, she had already practiced how to greet people and how to introduce herself. She knew she would need a little help as she figured that she wouldn’t be getting her luggage anytime soon.

  As best as she could, Lauren asked if there were any local shops around, places where she could buy a few things to replace some of what had been lost. The women were more than happy to assist her with her search, but speaking in rapid Italian, most of it was lost on her. Thanking them, she headed back to Mishca, telling him of what she had learned.

  Since they wouldn’t be getting much help from the attendant standing behind the desk, Mishca finished his report, and they left. While Lauren waited for Mishca to pick up their new car, Lauren looked around the little shops, picking up little souvenirs that she could bring back to the States. When Mishca pulled around the corner, she raised her hand to let him know where she was standing.

  Mishca put on a pair of opaque sunglasses, shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun. He opened the passenger door for her, gesturing with a wave of his arm for her to climb in. One thing she definitely liked about this car was that the top was down, and as they pulled off onto the winding streets toward Sardinia, the wind whipped her hair back and she could do no more than smile.

  The drive from Cagliari, where they had actually landed, toward Nuoro was where Lauren asked if they could stop so she could get pictures of the town. Most of the houses and buildings, in general, were made of limestone and looked stunning in the low light of the sunset. While she happily snapped pictures of practically everything in sight, Mishca just smiled, glad that she was enjoying herself.

  The farther they went, and the closer they got to their destination, the more the scent of the sea permeated the air, and with it came her first view of the water.

  “Why here?” Lauren asked as she got a better view of the sheer beauty of the town they were now in. “Not that I’m complaining or anything, but I’d never even heard of this place before you mentioned it.”

  “A friend suggested it. I have very few business contacts here so we’ll be undisturbed during our time here.”

  They drove in silence the rest of the way to where they would be staying, but once they had arrived, she gasped.

  One day, and she had no idea when that day would come, Lauren would stop underestimating what Mishca would do for her. If she weren’t so tired from the flight, then she was sure her mouth would be hanging open. Clearly, even on short notice, Mishca was able to pull off something most people only dreamed about.

  They weren’t staying in a hotel close to the harbor—as she’d thought they would—but rather a holiday villa on top of a promontory, giving clear views of the rocky shore and water below. Only thing cooler was the peak of the villa, a shining light like a beacon pointing out toward the sea.

  Standing in front of the residence was a man, who looked to be in his early sixties, wearing a pair of white linen pants, a shirt similar in material, and brown sandals. His snowy white hair fell flat on his head, and once he saw their car pull around, he straightened further, tucking his hand in his pocket.

  Lauren’s eyes shot to Mishca, but since he didn’t seem surprised to see the man standing there, she dismissed her worries…at least until they were right before him and he was passing Mishca an envelope.

  After speaking in quick, fluent Italian with Mishca, he smiled politely at Lauren and went on his way.

  “What did he say?”

  A muscle had ticked in Mishca’s jaw before he said, “Welcome to Italy.”

  “And…”

  He hesitated, clearly not wanting to answer, but did anyway. “Roman sends his regards.”

  Lauren stiffened, not taking another step forward. “Was this a favor then? A gift for a deal you agreed to?”

  “Not in so many words.”

  “You know what?” Lauren said holding her hands up as she plucked the keys from his hand, heading toward the house. “I don’t think I want to know. Hopefully he didn’t bug the house because it would be weird knowing your cousin is listening to us have sex.”

  He smiled though she wasn’t trying to be funny. “Noted.”

  Chapter 6

  Between jet lag and their alr
eady erratic sleep schedule, they didn’t go back out again until that night. As they started down the cobblestone streets, Lauren was taken by the sky; the whole of it was painted in brilliant colors, ranging from pinks to purples, indigos, and yellows, with lines of white throughout. It didn’t look real.

  There were a number of restaurants facing the water, and while there were a good number of the outdoor tables filled, Lauren pointed to one in the corner. Instead of sitting inside—though the interior was just as beautiful—they opted for a table outside to enjoy the view.

  Mishca pulled the chair out for her before removing his jacket and claiming his own seat. When their waiter appeared, greeting them warmly in Italian, he ordered for the both of them, most of it lost on Lauren as she continued to smile, captivated by the way he spoke.

  After thanking the man and handing over their menus, Mishca reached across the table for her hand, tracing the delicate skin of her wrist with his finger.

  “Are you happy?”

  Could her heart beat any harder for him? “I’m always happy with you.”

  His dimple showed as a corner of his mouth tilted up. “You’re sweet.”

  “I’m honest.”

  Their wine came first, poured expertly into crystal glasses. The local wine smelled pungent and tasted rich in a way only red wine could. Before long, Lauren had finished her first glass and had another.

  “Tonight is going to be interesting,” Mishca commented absently, smiling over at her as he took a swallow of his own drink.

  “I don’t know what you mean, Mish. I’m completely sober.” Though, at this point, she was feeling the effects of the alcohol, and because of that, she was more aware of his touch as he continued to rub circles on her arm.

  “Is everything going to be okay with us staying gone for so long?”

  He shook his head. “You don’t need to worry about that. Just enjoy yourself. That’s why we’re here, no?”

  Their food arrived, and Lauren’s eyes widened as she saw the fish on her plate, head and all. It was cut down the middle, slices of lemon and herbs inside, and while it looked intimidating, it smelled amazing.

  She took small bites, tasting it first before she really dug in.

  Apparently, that was just the appetizer. Gradually, over the next couple of hours, several dishes were brought out to them one by one. By the time dessert came around, Lauren was stuffed, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn down the tiramisu.

  Mishca paid their bill, keeping his arm around her waist as they walked down the dock to the water. Toeing off her shoes, she picked them up, dipping her feet into the water as she sat. He was more content watching her enjoy the night, leaning against one of the wooden beams as she kicked her feet in the water.

  “It’s beautiful here,” she said absently, staring out at the reflection of the moon in the water. “Thank you for bringing me.”

  “I can’t count the number of times you’ve thanked me since we arrived. You don’t have to thank me at all. All of this, everything I do, is for you.”

  “But still,” she said getting back up, shaking her feet to sling some of the water on him, making her laugh as he glowered. “I’m grateful for this, for everything. I know it isn’t easy for you, and I know that it could be potentially dangerous for you to walk around without your guys, so I need you to know that I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

  “Maybe you can show me how appreciative you are when we get back? I know I’ll enjoy that.”

  She smiled, trailing her nail down his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his clothes. “Sure…I think you’ll like the surprise I have for you.”

  Chapter 7

  For the second time in only a week, Lauren was up before Mishca. At first, she’d sat on the balcony with the doors open, just breathing in the cool sea air before she began combing through the travel book she’d gotten—along with a few suggestions from one of the workers at the hotels—trying to decide on the first beach they would visit.

  One thing she definitely wanted to do, though she hadn’t bothered to mention this to Mishca yet, was cliff diving. Undoubtedly, she knew he wouldn’t agree and would more than likely try to stop her from doing this, but with the element of surprise on her hands, she doubted there would be much he could do.

  With a pen, she circled a few of her favorites, trying to work out in her head how they would be able to visit every one of her selections by the time they left.

  Vaguely, she thought she heard a chiming bell within the house, but as she ventured in, she caught sight of Mishca closing the front door, two bags in hand.

  “Who was that?”

  He glanced up at her and the sight of him, wearing nothing more than his pajama pants that rode low on his hips and his messy hair, made her smile down at him.

  “I ordered breakfast.”

  Her brow knitting in confusion, she shook her head. “When?”

  Mishca’s answer was a smile. After making a quick stop in the kitchen, he headed in her direction, walking her back onto the balcony, his free hand at her waist. With the waves crashing against the rocks down below and the occasional bird soaring through the air, there was no better way to enjoy the morning.

  He plated all of it, setting each one in the middle of the table. When he finished, Lauren spread some Brie on a croissant, taking a small bite.

  “What do you want to do today?” he asked, reaching over to play with her hair. “This island is your playground.”

  She was silent for a while, thinking over all the possibilities until she made her final decision. “Rent a boat.”

  Lauren was lying on a towel on the bow, sunglasses on as the sun beamed down on her. She’d already rubbed on a coconut-scented tanning oil before enjoying the slight rocking of the boat as the water moved around her. Renting the boat had been a relatively quick process, and since Mishca already knew how to drive one, they had it out on the water in no time.

  The beaches of Sardinia were far more beautiful in person; their allure lost in translation with photographs.

  Mishca had been below deck, but she could hear him walking back up. She shifted in his direction, using her hand to block out some of the sun as she smiled over at him. He was barefoot, wearing a pair of nautical-themed board shorts, along with a straw fedora that really worked for him.

  Thank God for this vacation.

  “Are you going to tan, Mish?” she asked innocently, plucking a grape from the tray he was carrying, turning over on her stomach so she could see him better.

  Mishca, in all his pale glory, glared up at the sun and shook his head. “I don’t tan.”

  “Are you at least getting in the water then? I don’t want to get wet by myself.” Lauren realized what she said too late, rolling her eyes at his blooming smile. “I’m serious, Mish.”

  “Sure, but in the meantime, I’ll enjoy the view.”

  “You know,” Lauren said swinging her legs down, “I think we’re alone out here.”

  Mishca lounged back in his chair, setting the tray to the side as he watched her, one corner of his mouth tugging up. His head canted to the side as he asked, “Are you trying to seduce me, Lauren?”

  She hopped down, pulling at the strings of her bikini top as she took slow steps toward him. “Maybe.”

  As her top fell away, and his gaze dropped from her face to her breasts, his next words came out as almost a whisper. “I’m already seduced.”

  Usually that expression that he was wearing was playful, but now? She could practically feel the pulsing energy coming off him. Grabbing his hand, she moved between his legs, using his fingers to trail down her sternum. He watched the descent, mumbling words in Russian that she didn’t bother to try to understand.

  Though she felt like she was on fire, his skin was cool to the touch, leaving a cool but heated path down her stomach. At first, he was compliant, just accepting that she was using him to tease herself, but he could only take so much.

  He got to his feet, wrappi
ng an arm around her waist as she wound her arms around his neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her down below the deck.

  Dropping her on the bed, he immediately climbed over her, his hand sliding between her legs and slipping beneath the fabric that covered her.

  His eyes roamed her face, waiting for her reaction before he dropped his lips to the curve of her neck, his tongue tracing over her flesh, his teeth grazing over her neck.

  Lauren felt like she was on fire as he slowly explored her as if it was the first time all over again, like he didn’t know every single place on her body that made her come alive beneath him. By the time he found his way below her navel, she was a squirming mess, softly begging him to touch her more, give her more.

  She had never thought that she could get this high from just his touch alone. The moment his tongue traced over her opening, that groan of his breaking through his chest, she was done.

  Within the confines of the boat, he let her scream out her release, her hands gripping fistfuls of the sheets on either side of her, but he wasn’t done with her, not by a long shot. Her cries seemed to spark something to life inside of him.

  He pulled away, fisting himself, slowly stroking up and down, eyes on her spread thighs and the evidence of her arousal there. Mishca seemed mesmerized by the sight, like it was a place he was desperate to be.

  After the orgasm he had just given her, she wouldn’t deny him anything.

  Lauren moved to shaky knees, changing their positions so that Mishca was now on his back and she was the one on top. Replacing his hand with her own, she felt the pulsing throughout his length as she stroked him the way he liked, watching his expression change from hungry to something more heady.

  “Now, Lauren.”

  She rose above him, positioning him at her entrance then sinking down onto him, moaning in abandon at the way he fit almost perfectly.

  It didn’t matter that she was the one on top; he was still in control.