"Dalt vila,"I answered. "The Old Town. The walls are from the renaissance. The city inside is stunning, and there are little shops and restaurants. It is a must for anyone spending time in Ibiza." We made our way into the entrance, Isa's hand reaching out to touch the old stone with trembling fingertips.
"It's really been here that long?" she asked, the history buff inside her forcing her excitement to the surface much like I'd hoped.
Humming my agreement, I captured her hand in mine and dragged our fingers over the stones so they scratched her palm. She closed her eyes; her face pinching as she lost herself to the desire of me pressing into her spine. Of our hands together.
I'd use my touch to manipulate her every chance I got.
I hadn't expected the innocent virgin to be so inclined to my rougher tastes. I'd expected to spend the next few days making love to her sweetly and then slowly acclimate her to the more...
Deviant of my desires.
But that she stood there with me willingly after I'd lost my control with her repeatedly proved just how well-matched we were. She'd give me everything I wanted and beg me for more.
As long as I kept her from questioning if her desires were wrong. I suspected my Isa would battle with that, eventually.
The entryway opened up before us as we stepped through the narrower tunnel. Her face lit as she took in the whitewashed buildings and stone streets. The timing of her trip was unfortunate, but I hadn't been willing to wait any longer to bring Isa to Ibiza just to avoid the summer crowds inDalt Vila. Vendors lined the streets for the summer, selling all sorts of wares and handmade items. I guided her up the road, passing vendors who smiled at her as if she was their saving grace even as they avoided me entirely.
Nobody wanted to make eye contact with the devil.
Even as my princesa turned wide eyes to them and smiled shyly when she didn't understand what they said to her, they still moved forward as if drawn by her haunted presence. Something in her called to all of us, a history that needed fixing and a mystery that needed solving.
Our fingers interlocked as I guided her forward slowly. "Wait until you see the citadel up close," I told her, squeezing her hand to draw her attention back to me. As much as I loved watching her fall in love with the island, I wanted nothing more than for her to love me for giving it to her.
I would be the center of her universe. Not Ibiza.
"The citadel?" she asked, her voice betraying her excitement. "Sorry," she winced with a laugh as she tempered her joy. I wanted to rage against the fact that she felt the need to diminish her happiness. Like she couldn't enjoy something without feeling guilty. "I'm a history geek. I'm going to college in the fall to get my Bachelor's in Anthropology."
"Why not just regular history?" I asked, prying into the parts of her mind that I couldn't know from watching her. Hugo knew her very well, but there were certain questions he didn't think to ask. His desire to know her didn't come from a unique fascination, though I knew the boy had come to care for her in his time with her.
I already knew Joaquin had questioned me far too often over the last few months as the looming deadline neared. He adored Isa primarily from a distance, as one might a younger sister he'd been separated from in a divorce. The man had never questioned my decisions prior to Isa, but something about her had wormed her way under his skin.
For that reason alone, he'd be her personal security once she knew the truth. Nobody would protect her better than a man who was brave enough to risk my wrath in an attempt to give her a chance at the best life possible.
"I find people oddly fascinating," she admitted. "I don't like them most times, so I don't want to actually have to deal with them regularly like a therapist would or something like that. But I find the study of culture and the overall human experience throughout history, and the ways we've developed, to be uniquely compelling."
I tugged her closer to me, ducking off to the side of the street to avoid other foot traffic as we stood in front of a shop window. "You hate people?"
"Well, notallpeople, but most of them, yes," she laughed sheepishly. "People are inherently selfish at the core. They'll do whatever it takes to get what they want in life, no matter who they hurt. I think that's really depressing." She laughed sheepishly, glancing down to the ground. Her cheeks turned pink when I cupped her jaw in my hand and leaned down to kiss her. She leaned into the touch, letting me fold her into my arms despite the public location.
Eyes came to us as I kissed her, but I paid them no mind when I pulled back and tucked my face into her hair to breathe in the scent of her, beneath the shampoo the hotel offered. Her products onEl Infiernowere an expensive version of the scents she seemed to prefer at home, an exotic mix of orange blossom and vanilla. The scent of them in the bottle when they’d arrived had made me desperate to smell them on her skin once more. But it would have to wait.
"I have been pleasantly surprised by you at every turn,mi princesa. I vastly prefer to spend my time alone," I said as I pulled back to stare at her. Wrapping a lock of long, chocolate hair around my hand, I slid it to the back of her head and gripped her there. "But that's not the case with you."
"I think that's somehow the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about me." She chuckled lightly, the sound raising the hairs on my arms. I knew in that moment, I would doanythingto hear the sound again and kill anyone who stood in the way of it.
I chuckled as well, turning her back toward the center of the street as we made our way up toward my favorite shop — the sole reason I would tolerate the trip into Dalt Vila anytime I was in Ibiza Town. "If you like history, then you need to see the museums on the mainland in Europe. All the monuments and the ruins are remarkable."
She sighed wistfully, her body sagging with the weight of a thousand worlds as it fell upon her. "I wish, but I don't know that I'll ever make it to Europe again. This was a freak thing where I had a paid opportunity to come to Ibiza. Coming back might be difficult."
I bit my lip to stifle the urge to tell her I would take her to see anything she wanted, if only she promised to be mine. Too much, too soon, and I would scare her off. Reminding myself that Isa hardly knew me came harder with every moment that passed.
"I am sure you'll find a way. We do what we must to achieve our dreams, do we not?" I asked, staring down at her as I said the words. She'd been everything I hadn't dared to dream for, a woman to match me, who called to me in a way I hadn't thought possible. "Come," I said, changing the subject as I dragged her into the little bakery.
"Señor Ibarra!" Samuel chimed from behind the counter. "¿Lo mismo de siempre?" he asked with a smile.Your usual?Reaching into his display case, he grabbed one of the massive pastries and slid it into the paper pocket to hand it to me.
"Gracias," I returned, handing him far more Euro than was necessary for the pastry. I would overpay him until the day I died if it meant I continued to have access to my favorite treat.
"What is it?" Isa asked as I pulled her into the little alcove between Samuel's shop and the jeweler next door.