Page 26 of When Hearts Unravel (The Orchid #6)

Before I fully climb down from the wall, he grabs my hand and takes off running.

“What the heck? Where are we going?”

Rex doesn’t answer and instead quickens his pace into a full-on sprint.

My lungs strain for oxygen. I’m winded and need to exercise more because making trips to the bathroom from my office clearly doesn’t count. “Slow down. You’re too fast. You’re a foot taller than me; your legs are longer. Eeek!”

Rex hauls me into his arms in a fireman’s carry, and I bat at any part of him I can reach, which is as effective as a fly flapping its wings to put out a fire.

Don’t think about his muscles—strong and sturdy. That sexy vein rippling in his neck. I want to lick it.

Don’t look, Olivia! Self-control.

He’s forbidden. Verboten. Prohibido. God, he’s drawing out random foreign words I’ve picked up over the years. He’s driving me nuts.

“Put me down, Rex!” I squeal, jostling in his hold, with no recourse but to cling onto him for dear life.

“Live a little, Olive.” He looks down and winks, a mad grin on his face. “Trust me! It’s good to be surprised sometimes.”

My center-of-gravity plummets and a screech tears out of my throat. Stairs, he’s flying down stairs. Where did the damn stairs come from?

I don’t care anymore. I’m shamelessly gluing myself to him.

Minutes later, he comes to a sudden stop, then he sets me down on a patch of rocks and shrubbery.

My mind still in a daze, my lungs heaving in desperate gulps of air, I glance around, finding the fort far above, and notice the chains and bright yellow signs next to us. I bet the words say, do not trespass in Croatian.

“W-Why are we here? I don’t think we’re supposed to—” I whip my head toward him, my words freezing in my throat when I take in the sight before me.

Rex Anderson, his dark hair tousled by the wind, a ray of sunlight shining on him like he’s some Greek god, is taking off his clothes in front of me, with the cerulean seas as the backdrop.

“Wh-What are you doing?”

His full lips hitch up as he pins me with those mesmerizing eyes.

Still not answering me, he continues unbuttoning his black shirt, slowly revealing hard, cut muscles, a body that looks like it’s carved by Renaissance artists.

Tanned skin glistens with a sheen of sweat, drawing attention to the smattering of hair on his chest, down the ridges of his abs to the happy trail disappearing in his pants.

An image of me trailing my tongue over that ridge flashes into my mind. My mouth waters.

I gulp, unable to look away as my pulse drums in my ears. Rex doesn’t speak, but chucks his shirt to the side, then moves on to his jeans.

My eyes bug out and my legs finally wake up because I’m moving toward him, even as my mind screams for me to turn around and run away. Stopping before him, I cover my eyes because seeing him almost naked is crossing my wires and tempting me to make very bad decisions.

“Rex? What on earth are you—”

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Have you seen a half-naked man before? Or am I your first?” He pries my hand from my eyes.

The jeans are off, then the shoes and socks, and seconds later, he’s standing before me, clad only in a tight pair of black boxer briefs, which do nothing to conceal the deadly weapon nestled between those strong thighs.

“I-I’m a doctor. Of course, I’ve seen naked men. I’ve had a boyfriend before too. A-And you aren’t anything special.”

He arches a brow as if to say, “Really, that’s what you’re going with?”

I bite my lip, stopping myself from saying anything more ridiculous.

Eyes darkening, he leans down—a panther locking in on his prey.

I should flee, back away, or hold my hand out to stop him. But instead, I’m rooted in place. Prickly heat travels down my neck to my breasts, then curls around my legs before settling in my core.

My skin is tight, achy, sensitive, my nerves calibrated only for this virile man before me. I twitch with the need to touch him, but I curl my fingers into my palms, digging my nails into the flesh until it hurts.

Because I’m a goddamn professional.

“My little Olive is all smiles and grace in public. But I’ve seen them.

Your claws. Heard your barbs. You don’t back down when challenged, you fight back.

I think underneath that neat librarian exterior, the rule-following doctor has a hidden rebellious streak.

Bravery waiting to be unleashed,” he murmurs.

He reaches out and tugs my lip from between my teeth. I pant out a half moan.

Eyes flaring, he slowly dips his thumb in—not tentative, but dominant.

He might as well have touched my clit, which throbs and aches.

A pleasurable haze blankets my mind and I suck on his thumb, tasting the addictive saltiness of his skin, watching a flush crawl up his face, making his eyes smolder like burning coals.

“You’re a mirage,” he rasps. “A temptress and a rule breaker trapped inside, waiting to be let out.”

I shake my head. No, that’s not me. You have the wrong twin. That’s Mia. Not me.

But aren’t I tired of following the rules? What if he’s right?

He must see something in my eyes because he withdraws his thumb. Holding my gaze, he dips the same finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it as if to taste me like he did with the cherry at Mystique.

A groan ripples from his throat. “Delicious and sweet.”

Wetness slicks my underwear and I can’t catch my breath.

Rex skates his eyes over my face, down to my body, my feet, then back up. I resist the urge to tremble under his scrutiny, my erogenous zones on fire.

When he opens his mouth again, his voice has taken on a deep, sexy rasp. He points to the ocean behind him.

“This spot is popular for cliff diving. We aren’t supposed to be here, but who cares? Fuck the world.”

“You’re out of your mind.” My heart jackhammers inside my chest.

Rex smirks as he slowly backs away. “Am I? Or am I facing my fears? Join me, Olivia.”

Without another word, he spins around and leaps off the cliff.

I gasp and run to the edge, just in time to see him disappear in a splash of white into the Adriatic Sea, which is now a jeweled turquoise under the morning sun.

I wait for him to come up, my mind spinning with what I should do next.

Stay put? Go back to the ship and call this morning a temporary lapse of sanity? Get his clothes and find my way down so he has something to wear when he resurfaces?

But the questions and answers quickly fizzle out when I notice something’s wrong.

Terribly wrong.

He doesn’t resurface.

Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. Did I count seconds or was that milliseconds?

I try again. One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi.

How long can humans hold their breath underwater? What did I learn in medical school? Ninety seconds? How do people drown? Panic first sets in, followed by fear, then an intense struggle to swim, to breathe, disorientation and not knowing what’s up or down.

My mind rattles off factoid after factoid as my heart incinerates like a volcanic eruption.

We’re at least seven stories up from sea level. So high up. Why isn’t he resurfacing?

Jump in. Save him. You’re a good swimmer. Jump in, Olivia.

My body moves before my mind catches up. I quickly strip off my clothes until I’m only clad in my bra and panties.

Without hesitating, I hurl myself off the cliff and pinch my nose as I cannonball into the frigid water. Icy shards stab my body, but I hold my breath as the ocean envelops me.

Holy shit, that’s cold.

As soon as I get my bearings straight, I swim toward the light, breaking the surface.

I draw in an inhale and yell, “Rex? Where are you, Rex?”

There are no signs of him.

I dive back underwater, trying to locate the maddening man. Out of nowhere, strong arms wrap around my waist and pull me upward until we come up for air.

His low laughter reaches my ears.

The devil.

I grab his forearms and try to spin around to give him a piece of my mind. But he easily overpowers me and cinches me tighter against him.

Against his mostly naked body.

The sensations of his skin against mine throw me straight back to that day in Mykonos when he rescued me inside the caves.

But this time, he isn’t the siren, Calliope, or Poseidon, the violent god punishing me for disturbing the peace. He’s the most irresistible version of himself.

The charming, sincere, boyish daredevil I’ve seen snippets of only when he’s around his family.

“Worried about me, aren’t you, little Olive?”

Between the adrenaline rush, the fear, the relief, and that dastardly sexy rasp in my ear, my body lights up like the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center. My nipples tighten, goosebumps prickling all over my skin.

“You asshole,” I seethe, but the words don’t hold venom.

Instead, I smile, my chest twitching as I try to hold in laughter.

“Let it out. You know you had fun, you naughty, bewitching rule breaker.”

Bewitching. He called me bewitching again, and this time, he means it.

He presses his lips against my ear. “You’re afraid of heights and you jumped. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

My heart careens out of control.

Bubbles form in my chest and I relive the past few moments.

The rush when I dove off the cliff, the feeling of suspending between life and death, of pushing myself past my limits.

The absolute high.

And I did that—jumped off a freakin’ cliff in a foreign country!

I lose my battle. The snort becomes a giggle, which quickly morphs into a full-body laughing fritz.

He joins me. The sound of his happiness, as beautiful as anything I’ve ever heard, makes my body warm all over.

Hot to the touch.

I turn around and this time, he lets me.

I wipe my tears—tears from laughing too hard. I can’t believe this person is me.

This person, standing in the shadows her entire life, has now captured the attention of a sexy, infuriating man.

Who’s no longer laughing, his slate-gray eyes hot like molten lava as he stares at me, the smile disappearing on his lips.

The air thrums with awareness and smells like temptation.

He swipes his tongue out, and I do the same, my mouth suddenly parched. His eyes snag on the action, and those dark pupils slowly dilate.

“I’m supposed to stay away because I’m not good for you,” he whispers. “But how could I? You make me forget.”

Forget what? But I don’t ask. I’m held captive by his gaze.

Turbulence swims in his eyes. “I never forget, and you…my sweet Olive, you make me forget. I…I feel normal around you.”

My heart jolts again. I want to throw myself at him and tell him I’ll always be here.

I’ll make him feel better. I want to make him feel better, not just as a doctor, but as…a woman.

My breath hitches when he pulls me flush against him, and I feel a hard bulge prodding my stomach.

He’s turned on.

My pussy clenches, needy and empty. What would it be like to kiss him, to be the sole object of his obsession, to have him fill me up and slake his lust inside me?

Clutching his biceps, I look away, afraid he’ll see my thoughts.

We’re forbidden. This is so, so wrong—a violation of my oath to the profession.

“What are you afraid of, Olive? Why do you walk around looking so sad?” He gently tips my face toward him. “Look at me.”

Blinking rapidly, my breath quakes inside my lungs. A familiar ache resurrects in my chest.

No one’s ever asked me these questions before. I’m the calm and poised Olivia—loyal friend, dutiful daughter, and successful doctor.

Blending into the background.

“What are you hiding?” He cups my face now, his touch so gentle and reverent, his attention completely focused on me.

I want to cry.

“Olive? Talk to me.”

I’m hit with an urge to kiss him, to stop him from asking me more questions I don’t have answers for.

To mask our pain under the haze of passion.

But logic stops me. This is madness. Ludicrous. Not allowed.

“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” I murmur, pushing him away.

He yanks me back and clamps his teeth on my shoulder.

Sharp pain ricochets through me and I hiss. “What—”

My words leave me when his tongue snakes out, lapping at the bite marks. The pain morphs into something sensual. Each lick shoots pleasure through my veins.

I tremble, a wispy moan slipping out of me.

Is this his punishment for dodging his question? A reward? A taste of the inferno?

“I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmurs. Another kiss. Another suction.

“What?”

“Your pretty pale skin. I want to mark it up.” His voice takes on a dangerous, dark edge.

“You know we shouldn’t do this.” Using the last of my willpower, I pull away from him.

This time he lets me, and I swim toward the shore.

“Your secret, Olivia. A truth for a truth. You owe me one and I want to collect.”

I stop at his words and moisture suddenly pools in my eyes. Keeping my back toward him, my gaze pinned on the shoreline, I reply with one truth.

“I’m a prisoner of grief and guilt. And that’s why I’m your doctor today. Because I think, I sense…you’re just like me.”