by Cat Porter
“All right.” I raised my glass at her.
She held her cloudy ouzo glass before mine, those blue gray eyes full of light. “Yiá mas.”
“Yiá mas,” I repeated. We clinked glasses.
We sipped, her gaze on me. Anise, aromatic and icy, flooded my mouth.
She licked at her upper lip, sliding on her sunglasses. “What do you think?”
“Refreshing. Crisp. Provocative even.”
“Provocative?”
“Yes, makes me want to devour all this amazing food. And you.”
She only laughed. We ate, we drank. We ordered more—mussels steamed in a garlic ouzo broth, boiled wild greens in a lemon and olive oil dressing. Perfectly fried calamari—not crusty and thick like the ones I was accustomed to in the Italian American restaurants I’d frequented, but crispy on the outside and delicate, tender, sweet on the inside. The small dishes of delights kept coming.
She ripped a sesame-seeded crust of bread apart, dipped it in the creamy remains of the Greek salad and offered it to me. “Go on, you must, consider this a rite of passage.”
I bit into the bread from her hands and closed my eyes enjoying the chew of the freshly baked bread bathed in oregano and the caper-perfumed lushness of the oil. The rich cheese.
“That’s not feta cheese, is it?”
“No, it’s a local cheese that’s made only on the island.”
“It reminds me of French goat cheese but milder.”
“Yes, you’re right,” she said.
“Our lunch yesterday on the Allegra was good, very good, but this food has soul. It’s a rich experience we’re moving through. We’re not just consuming a fine meal.”
Letting out a small laugh, she leaned over the table and clinked my ouzo glass with hers. “You really are a foodie, aren’t you, Turo?”
“I am,” I admitted. “My mother raised me with a finer palate than most.”
“More hidden talents.” She raised her ouzo glass, and a prick of disappointment hit me that sunglasses hid her expressive eyes.
“What more is there to be discovered?” she murmured.
“You’ll have to find out for yourself.”
“Hmm.”
We talked more, we drank another bottle of spring water. I hailed the waiter for the bill. She reached across the table and touched my arm. “This is my treat, Turo. Please. Your first meal on the island, and I’ll bet your best yet in Greece. Let it be my treat for you.”
My chest filled with heat.
It had been perfect. But it was something more than good food.
This meal had been a sort of ritual ceremony. A colorful washing away of the gray and black of the past couple of days and nights. Of the hundred prickly tensions and strains from every direction. This had been both a cleansing and a celebration we’d shared.
Having her all to myself the past few hours had been a balm and a treat. Exciting and relaxing. This getaway of ours was suddenly precious and vital to me. Her gift of this bite of paradise to kick it all off was pleasing in a way that I couldn’t quite figure out. But I knew that I wanted to swallow the experience—whatever happened between us and for however long it lasted.
Swallow it whole.
She took off her sunglasses and those eyes glimmered at me, her lips swept up in a confident smile. A pact, a deal, a grabbing of hands and jumping off the cliff. She wanted this, just like I did.
Fate sealed.
“Your treat, Lovely.”
Her smile deepened and she sat up straighter. I surrendered to her pleasure. I surrendered to her smile, I surrendered to her simple joy in a simple gesture of generosity. I took an easy breath right there in her genuine smile, in the affability of her tone as she asked for the bill. She’d created this moment for us and she’d truly enjoyed giving it to me. She’d enjoyed my appreciation. Something curled inside me, wanting more moments like this. Needing them.
A new craving had taken hold of me.
She took care of the bill, and as we rose from the table, I took her hand, kissing the back of it. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” she said quietly, sliding her arm through mine as we strode along the harbor toward the jeep.
Just another couple on a vacation. But this couple had two of the most powerful crime families trying to figure out where they were right about now. Would they try to find us? An ache raced over my skull, the hard glare of the sun pricking my eyes even though I was wearing my sunglasses, and I raked a hand through my hair, my scalp tingling.
“Roman emperors used to banish people to Andros and other islands as punishment,” she said. “I imagine it must have been devastating to be banished back then, separated from everything and everyone you knew.”
“Definitely.”
“You and I, on the other hand, have chosen to be here. To banish the madness of so-called civilisation from our minds and spirits.” Her playful voice had taken on a more serious tone.
Was that where we’d been the past couple of days? In a well-mannered, high-powered, enlightened, educated, cultured society?
“A man was killed last night,” she murmured.
And there was the giant troll tracking behind us all day long, his heavy footsteps, his thick smell. Neither of us had said a word about it. Neither dared. I didn’t want to see any signs of hate in her eyes, or disgust. I hadn’t. Not yet.
“And I killed him,” I said.
“You had no choice, and you almost killed yourself, Turo. And for what? For the sadistic whim of a madman?”
“It’s men like Berezin who rule the world, Adri.”
She stopped, her eyes leveling with mine. “I don’t know how long this will last, us being alone here in Andros.”
“Until they find us? Because I’m sure they’re looking.”
“I’m sure they are.” The wind whipped her hair around, and she swept it away from her face. “But there’s nowhere I’d rather be at this moment than right here with you. Nowhere on this earth.”
My heart ticked to a quicker rhythm at the firm tone of her conviction, her words. Was she running away from something other than the shooting? Or was it from someone? Maybe it was my exhaustion from the deluge of last night’s sewage waters, but I really didn’t fucking care. We were on this island, me and Adri, together.
A shimmer of sunlight created kinetic sparkles on the surface of the sea before us, like tiny, golden, magic fairies dancing on the water. Yeah, I wanted this exile with her, here, now.
“Me too,” I held her gaze. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Adri beamed that grin at me, part sly, part sexy, part girl having fun. All woman. The most beautiful woman.
The jeep waited behind us and she unlocked it. “Let’s get on with our exile, shall we?”
24
Turo
Adri shifted gears like a seasoned race car driver. Her jaw tense, eyes riveted to the road, hair flying. My Formula 1 Lady Godiva.
Ah, if only she were naked.
The Land Rover skillfully ate up the twisting, winding roads we climbed in this thorny mountain scape once we left Batsí. I glanced down past the edge of the road and my stomach shoved up my throat. The edge of the road was truly the edge to the immediate sheer drop of a cliff. Everywhere cliffs. But there were rewards. With every twist and turn of the road a glorious sweep of blue flashed in the distance, glinting in the sunlight like a fantasy promised land. A prize revealing itself bit by bit. A treasure to wait for.
“And where are we going?” I asked over the roar of the engine, the brunt of the wind.
She glanced at me and smiled.
“Eyes on the road, Lovely.”
She let out a dark laugh. She was enjoying my angst. “Don’t worry, Turo. My father taught me to drive and he was a top rally race car driver in his youth.”
“Great. I’m not sure rally and cliff roads jive though.”
She laughed again. “I’m taking you to a very special beach.”
“That sou
nds so very benign. Yet this is the furthest thing from it.”
“These are the Cyclades islands. For the most part, they are barren mountain rock. The roads that do exist are cut from that rock. Villages were tucked away in these high, remote spots to make things difficult for all the pirates who came hunting for treasures.”
“Pirates, really?”
“Many, many pirates over the centuries.”
We were on the historic trail of marauding pirates. Somehow that seemed fitting. The deep valleys and steep mountainsides were laced with miles of stone walls. Constructed of wedged and piled flat stones, the handmade walls outlined an endless pattern of loping terraces of land. Unusual flat crags of jagged stone jutted out of the cliff sides giving the landscape an otherworldly quality.
“The stone here, it’s different,” I said. “The rock shimmers, like it’s been scrubbed with gold. It actually glitters.”
“Yes, the stone here has layers of different minerals and can be split into thin plates.”
“And that’s why they build walls and small buildings out of them.”
“Right. There’s lots of marble and quartz everywhere as well. I used to go hiking with my grandfather. He knew these things.”
My ears popped with the height. A series of medieval oblong towers dotted the steep mountains. “Are those dovecotes?”
“Yes, the Venetians left them behind.”
“The Venetians were here too?” I sat up in my seat.
She nodded, eyes focused on the road. “They came here for a holiday after a Crusade in the 1200’s and stayed awhile.”
“And they left their love of pigeon poop behind.”
She laughed. “Great fertilizer.”
Adri powered the jeep around yet another tight curve, and I said a silent prayer of thanks to Dionysus for the perfect choice of vehicle. It gripped the road and easily managed the steep turns. A small black goat perched on a sliver of rock glared at us as we rounded the bend.
“The asphalt is good here,” Adri said, shifting. “But it ends in about fifteen minutes.”
So much for that prayer.
Soon enough the asphalt vanished before us and we were left with a dirt road strewn with all kinds of stones and rocks. Adri downshifted and cut her speed, as my feet pressed against the floor of the jeep, my one hand gripping the bar above me. Twisting around a cove—the sheer drop steep as hell—we passed around a huge, round tower planted on the side of the mountain, a vestige of medieval construction.
“Watch now,” she slanted her head to the right as we swerved to the left, Adri gripping the steering wheel, her lips pressing together, forehead lined. Focused as fuck.
I shifted in my seat, and there it was in the distance, a perfect cove, turquoise water glittering in the sunlight edged with a pale halo of shore. Something out of a travel magazine or a postcard but it was no glossy ten-cent photo. It was real, and we were heading there together.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” her voice soared. “Andros has many, many amazing beaches, but this one, Vitáli, is my favorite.”
“Are they all as challenging to get to as this?”
“Many, yes. We’ll get there, Turo. Don’t worry.”
“I have no doubts.”
Her cheeks reddened, a small smile lit up her face and that flare of heat went off in my chest. She enjoyed my compliment. And it wasn’t bullshit, it was the truth. Ordinarily I’d hate being driven around by a female. Especially a female I wanted to bed, but this girl driving this jeep was the take charge tigress I’d seen at the party in Mykonos, on the Russian’s boat, and I fucking liked it. She hid the tiger more than let it out of its golden cage. Her quiet roar had my blood racing in my veins.
“Eyes on the road, Lovely. Eyes on me later,” I said.
She let out a low, sly laugh. The tigress wanted to come out and play.
The road descended, and that insane, impossibly perfect beach grew closer, nearer. A surprising clearing of emerald-green grass spread out before us and opposite, stood a small building with a covered veranda filled with tables and chairs and a donkey in the yard.
Adri slowed down. “That’s a tavérna, a restaurant. We’ll eat there later.”
“Of course we will.”
Just past the field on the edge of the shore, Adri pulled in to a wide patch of rocky dirt and parked alongside three other vehicles. We’d made it.
We got out of the jeep, and I stretched out. Vitáli Beach was a hidden cove surrounded by a rise of low mountains.
She stilled, staring at the sea.
Oh, this sea. Aqua blue blended with turquoise. Pure and clear, calling to something thirsty in my soul. Waves swelled in a relaxed rhythm, beckoning us to enter their soothing swirl. A sensual seduction of a different kind. Smooth, round, white stones were scattered over pale gold sand. We were on the edge of the world. A different world from everything I’d ever known.
Perfect.
Unbelievable.
And yet, here I was. Here we were. Me and Adri together.
I went up behind her and leaned into her. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
Her hand reached out and fell back into my chest, and I took it and rubbed it there, liquid warmth spreading through me. Our fingers entwined, and we breathed in and out. Breathed in the pure salty-sweet air blowing over us, capturing it in our lungs.
She turned to me, her fingers squeezing mine, and my heart stopped. Eyes a brighter blue than ever before locked on mine, smile huge and relaxed, hair floating in the breeze. The magnificence of this beach wasn’t enough. No, it was Adri herself.
“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” she whispered.
We got our bathing suits out of our suitcases and took turns changing in the jeep. We headed toward the pairs of loungers stretched out underneath straw umbrellas over the sand. She chose one up front by the water, smack in the center. “I have plenty of sunscreen, so don’t worry. I won’t let you get burnt.”
“You’ve thought of everything.”
“I’m thorough, Mr. DeMarco. Now, onto important matters. What would you like to drink? A juice? An iced coffee? Soda?”
A waitress in a bikini top and shorts holding a pad and pen marched over to us in the sand.
“Whatever you’re having,” I said. Yes, how very unlike me, but I wanted to experience Adriana’s island, Adriana’s way.
A feathery eyebrow lifted. “Freddo espresso it is then. How do you like your sugar?”
“On your skin so I can lick it off you.”
Her teeth grazed her lip. “And in your coffee?”
“I’m a purist. No sugar in my coffee, no milk.”
Her gaze lingered on me as the waitress waited. Adri ordered our coffees and bottles of neró, water. Sitting on the edge of the lounger, I buried my toes in the small, smooth, warm stones that filled the beach. She removed her tunic and my eyes burned at the sight of her fantastic body in a pink bikini with a strapless top, and a high waisted bottom that had ties at each hip. My hands itched to pull on those ties, pull her hips to my face and—
She said, “Shall we go in? I can’t wait.”
Baby, neither can I.
I placed my sunglasses next to hers on the small, round table between our loungers. “Why should we wait?”
We entered the chilly water, both of us moving through the full rolling waves that never broke or got very high. Crystal aquamarine. I could see straight down to the smooth, sandy bottom. I dove in, the cool water sheathing me. I broke the surface as Adri swam to the other end of the shore where the beach bar was, and I followed her.
At the end of the shoreline rose a high wall of concave rock which towered over the water, the sides jutting out into the sea where a lone snorkeler swam. The water was darker and wilder here, slamming and smacking swiftly into the rocks of the small cave. Adri emerged from the sea and clambered up over the slippery slabs of that shimmering mica, and grinned like a kid who’d been given the birthday present she’d been coveting for a long
time.
But she was no kid.
She was Aphrodite rising from her seashell, water sluicing over her skin, wet hair in a long tangle down her body, eyes huge and bright, ready to greet her ardent lover.
The compulsion to drop to my knees and worship her as any ordinary mortal would overwhelmed me. But she was no ethereal goddess. She was real, and she had chosen to run away to this hidden paradise with me. To share this special place in her heart with me.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” she asked, sniffing in air, hands wiping the water from her face.
“Fantastic.” I smoothed my hair back, a hand down my middle, catching my breath. The cave, the wind, the loud smack of the waves.
The girl.
“In the summer, it gets crowded,” she said, “so being here now, having it all to ourselves is wonderful.” Her eyes glimmered as her attentive gaze darted around the small yet high cave, taking in every detail. True, satisfied joy as she moved deeper into the small cave.
I caught up with her and grabbed her, planting a kiss on her wet, cool lips.
Her eyes popped open. “What was that for?”
“You’re so damn happy right now and I wanted a taste of it.”
“The things you say.”
“They’re true.” For you.
I hadn’t had to dissemble with her. I didn’t have to look over my shoulder or over hers or double guess. And I think she didn’t either. It felt odd, liberating.
“Do you mind if we stay here all day?” she asked.
“Is there somewhere else we need to be?”
“We don’t need to do anything, Turo. ”
“There’s a thought.” I laughed.
“This is our secret getaway. Ours.”
“It is.”
Our eyes melded into each others, and she averted her gaze as she wiped tiny pebbles from her hands. “I ask because not everyone is a beach person,” she said. “And I don’t want this to be tedious for you.”
“There’s nothing tedious about being here with you, Adri. Nothing at all.”