Page 33

“Would you like to go out with me today?” he offered at the end of the slimy, swimming-creature list.

“Out? On the water?” My voice rose an octave. “On the ocean!”

He cocked his head. “You have been on a boat before.”

“Yeah, once on a small lake in Wisconsin. It was a speedboat. And a month ago, we cruised around Lake Michigan on a yacht, but beside those two times, I’m content to bebesidethe water.”

“Twice, huh.”

“Mhmm.”

Plating the food, I set the table. Markos took his seat. His spine was straight; his body was stiff. The effort to have this meal with me must be costing him.

The smallest of pangs tugged at my chest. The desire to put him at ease surprised me, but I dismissed it just as quickly. There wasn’t anything I could say to make him believe his scarred visage didn’t bother me.

“So what happens now?” I demanded, gesturing between us. “I refused Iosif. Who else will be thrown at me until whatever terrible alternative becomes my fate?”

Eggs fell from his suspended fork. “You’re safe, Serena.”

I wanted to believe him. The look in his eye, the tone of his voice—the combination was deceptive.

“I know what you are, Markos,” I whispered before I could stop myself.

His gaze narrowed. “What’s that?”

Shit!My knowledge about the presence of the Greek mob was still a secret. This couldn’t backfire on Evangelia. “You’re someone who’s not afraid of the law.”

“And yet you’re not afraid of me.” He leaned back, but not enough to touch the wooden slats of his chair, as if his back was sore. “You’re either a liar or you bumped your head.”

“Neither,” I stated simply.

“Prove it.”

Prove it? Prove that I wasn’t scared of this mobster? Only one idea came to mind. My body thrummed to life at the thought,desire coiling low in my belly. I pushed away from the table and rose. My fingers splayed over his face, eyes pinning him in place.

Slowly, I bent forward, tipping his head ever so slightly to the side, and only right before I stole the kiss did I close my eyes.

The collision was electric. He tasted of smoke and spice, with a hint of sweetness that lingered on my lips. As we kissed, the heat from his mouth spread through my body, igniting a fire within me. It was an intense and electrifying sensation, like taking a shot of strong liquor.

For a moment, he went utterly still, and I thought I’d made a terrible mistake. Then his hand shot up, fingers threading through my hair, gripping tight enough to make me gasp against his mouth. He used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, claiming me with a hunger that matched the fire he'd ignited.

When we broke apart, his eyes had darkened to the color of the midnight sky, pupils blown wide. The careful distance he’d maintained vanished as he leaned forward, elbows on the table.

"That doesn't prove you're not afraid," he said, voice rough. "Only that you're reckless. You’re tempting fate."

“Is that such a bad thing?” I countered, giving the strands of his hair a hard tug before releasing my hold on him and returning to my seat.

“It’s...interesting.”

I settled back into my chair, heart hammering against my ribs. “Fearful people runaway. I just ran toward you.”

A smile curled at the corner of his mouth—dangerous, appreciative.

“So you did.” He studied me with new interest, like I was a puzzle he hadn’t figured out. “And don’t worry about the marriage. That business is done. No one will force you to do anything you don’t want.”

“Then—” I shook my head. “What?”

“You’re free to continue living in my cottage and working as one of the villagers.” Markos stabbed his eggs.