More groaning came from her, but he could tell it was merely on principle now. He was surprised to find it...cute.
For the briefest second, he wondered if she was some kind of sleeper agent, the ultimate coup de grâce of Dominic d’Tierrza’s grand evil schemes, even while he knew it wasn’t possible.
A move like that would have required that he understand things like love, and need, and the cruel choices of the heart.
To the world’s great fortune, Dominic had not been aware of exquisite agonies of the warmer emotions. If he had realized love could burn like fire, he would have seen his daughter as a weapon, instead of merely a pawn. That he had done even that, and that it was only her own ingenuity that had kept her safe from his machinations, was repulsive enough.
But as childhood images of her flashed through his mind, he wondered if perhaps Dominic had understood more about his daughter’s potential than he’d ever let on.
In his memory, it was as if she had always been there, a constant companion at his side, carried around to protect and encourage and goad and draw smiles from, rather than a woman with whom he’d only recently become reacquainted.
He gave his head a shake to free it from the cobwebs of melodrama. It was time to get out of the pool and away from his gorgeous linchpin.
But first he drew her closer again.
She softened against him, her eyes closing on an exhale.
Just like that, they fit together—as naturally as if they had been made to comfort one another.
They stood together in the pool without words as the sun made its debut, its light dancing across the black waves of the sea, bursting free to bring blue to the sky.
Helene opened her eyes in the growing light, the pool room sparkling, and he watched the realization dawn on her that the room’s nighttime performance had been mere sleepwalking, that it truly woke with the dawn, its bright white walls near blinding, its mosaics glittering like paintings rendered with multifaceted gemstones. The room itself was a treasure chest, the water of the pool crystalline turquoise, the beautiful cushions of fabrics and pillows even more stunning by day.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, enjoying the irritation that flickered across her face at being asked such a mundane question after all they had shared.
“You’re always trying to feed me,” she grumbled.
“You’re too skinny,” he insisted, to her outrage.
She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“On a normal day, I eat three thousand calories!” she said.
“So you say,” he said, shrugging. “Your frame speaks for itself, however.”
Her eyes narrowed, glittering in the light as jewel-toned as the mosaics beneath their feet.
Her statement was ruined, however, when Hel’s stomach grumbled.
Squinting in the ever-brightening room, he turned a grin her direction and said, “You’re hungry. And tired, I’m sure, after our little adventures. We’ll eat, rest and then we’ll return to Cyrano to destroy your father’s legacy.”
From the pool room, it looked as if the sun had bleached out every color except for blue on the island, the palm fronds mostly silhouetted against the sand and sea.
She nodded, eyes wide blue orbs in her moon-pale face reflecting the impossible blue of the sea in the distance, as well as the topaz-clear waters of the pool. Her cheeks had pinkened again, making her look like a porcelain doll...but he knew she was far from fragile.
Lifting himself from the water, he wrapped a towel around his waist before reaching out a hand to assist her.
Taking it, she followed his lead, wrapping her towel to hang low around her hips, and he shook his head, his smile growing. Most women would have covered their whole bodies.
Helene wasn’t most women.
He walked them out of the room, toward the kitchen.
The compound on Yancy Grove was impressive, considering its foundations were historic, if not ancient—he didn’t know for certain because accurate structural dating of the original foundations was less important than privacy.
Over the years he had improved the existing ruins, maintaining structural integrity wherever he could, and made sure that every element of new architecture blended stylistically with what remained.
The result was like traveling back to the times of the great African kings. Wide walkways lined with fragrant blooming vines created the boundaries for smoothly tiled hallways. Cleverly placed arched cutouts in the walls encouraged the sea air to dance through the buildings, cooling as they went, as well as ensuring there wasn’t a poor view to be had. The complex of buildings was loosely rectangular, arranged around a central courtyard with a massive, three-tiered fountain in its center. The fountain was classic with simple flowing lines and flourishes rather than ornate carvings with waterspouts. Palm trees and flowering shrubs grew wherever there was space, giving everything a feeling of overgrowing paradise, newly discovered, like the day they’d stumbled upon it so desperately.