When those black waters began to surge most abnormally.
When they began to rise—most alarmingly.
When they began to take shape, with heavy rivers cascading down a large form. An obelisk made of bronze, growing by every second. The ticks of time that sucked away more of her terrified breaths, until her chest pumped hard and tiny whimpers accompanied each exhalation…
Up to the moment her lungs refused to cooperate at all.
The instant that she recognized a jolting truth.
The tall, steely form was no manmade obelisk. But it was all man, surely carved by the Creator’s own hand. Magnificent and muscled. Glorious and godlike.
A force of nature.
Her force of nature.
Chapter Thirteen
Holy shit.
Was he dreaming?
Brick scrambled to validate the conjecture by ruling out the other theories assaulting his mind. He hadn’t swum low enough to be getting the bends, and he absolutely wasn’t high. If he was having a hallucination, it was a damn good one.
A dream still made the most sense. This incredible fantasy pool deserved an equally entrancing siren on its curved rock shore.
That had to be his answer. Fantasizing was the logical coping mechanism for being carried into the cavern by an unanticipated high tide. But it wasn’t like he had planned to take the swim at all, let alone check the tide charts beforehand. Dunking himself in the Mediterranean had simply seemed a better idea than getting drowned in a fresh wave of dejection. All the feelings that refused to set him free, even now.
The selfishness that wouldn’t unchain him from this goddamned mope.
The punishment that he deserved.
He’d broken the rules. No, he’d shattered them. Gotten too damn entangled in the op to the point that he couldn’t give the mission up. Yeah, despite its happy ending. Despite how he’d never have to worry about Jayd again.
But goddammit, he wanted to worry. About everything. About her bold, impetuous spirit. About her open, trusting heart. About her dreams and her goals, her sanity and her safety…
And yes, even now, about the fantasy he’d conjured of her. Whether that dream girl was going to stop staring at him and remember exactly where she was stepping…
And continued to step…
Until she careened right off the lagoon’s edge.
And on her way into the choppy water, let out a shriek to finally shatter him. And horrify him.
“Jesus Ch—” He dove forward, breast stroking toward her like the obedient fool he was. Reality was about to hand him his soul on a plate the second he reached and watched his fantasy turn back into pixie dust. In this case, perhaps pixie drops.
But he wrapped his hand around a very real shoulder. And then around the other. A wonderfully real warmth flowed over his chest as Jayd sputtered and coughed past the soaked curtain of her hair.
“Rahmié Creacu!”
Holy shit. That sounded pretty real too.
Did he dare test the postulation?
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Not his smoothest reality test, but damn how he rejoiced in the results. Down to every infuriated light in her eyes and every twist of her lips.
“I live here, Sir. And your excuse?”
Oh, damn it. She was begging for it. Before he could resist, his most insolent smirk splayed itself into existence.
“So…you were just taking a stroll underneath the palais to get some fresh air? That it?”
Her mouth relaxed. Her body softened against his by the same degrees. Shit. Clearly, she hadn’t gotten his abstinence-is-golden memo yet. Not even an email version.
“I shall answer your questions when you answer mine.”
She tilted her head, channeling so much of her sassy sprite side that Brick started fantasizing again. This time, about what he could do to tame that wild little creature. How he could haul her out of this pool, yank down her leggings, and give her a discipline session like she’d never known. He already saw it: the wet smacks of his palm against her gleaming backside. He felt it: the heady sting of hitting her wet flesh. And oh yes, he heard it—the echoes of her high wails along all these hard walls.
Shit, shit, shit!
“After the crowd in the commissary started closing in, I needed some air.” Not a lie, but not the whole truth. Slivers of panic had definitely soaked in at the outskirts of his psyche, but having Jayd nearby had taken a lot of the edges off—at least until they got too sharp. “I headed for the beach. The water was warm. Seemed a no-brainer.”
She narrowed her stare. “Even with your wounds?”
He shrugged, deliberately emphasizing the shoulder with his half-dissolved sutures. “Saltwater keeps shit clean, right?” He ignored her little huff and went on. “Anyhow, I was fine until the tide decided to be a beast. Idiotic, I know. But Puget Sound isn’t exactly known for its mean rips.”
Jayd canted her head the other direction. Holy God, she was such a sweet sight in yeah-you-are-an-idiot mode. But perhaps she was getting distracted in interesting ways, just like he was. He hadn’t exactly packed a swimsuit for this island detour, so their sexes were only separated by her thin yet soaked leggings. If he was feeling everything accurately, she was already hot and needy. And goddammit, his dick was already a boulder.
“Pixie?”
“Yes, Sir?”
Fuck. He’d absolutely walked into that one, and most of him wasn’t sorry.
“Your turn,” he prompted in a slow, meaningful growl.
In return, she first straightened her head. But just when Brick expected more kittenish stalling, she declared, “I was not just taking a stroll.”
Intuition supplied him with some possible follow-ups. Maybe a sense that went beyond that. An awareness of her that nearly supplied the explanation already. Then again, he was the guy who’d first thought she was a fantasy. Maybe she still was. If so, then she wouldn’t disappoint.
Who the hell was he kidding?
This woman would never dissatisfy him. She would never be anything short of dazzling for him. She’d always astound and amaze and fascinate him like few ever had.
No. Like no one ever had.
“If you must know, I was looking for you.”
Her admission, and its threads of accusation, weren’t a complete surprise. Still, deep inside, he was glowing like a kid who’d gotten a smile from the cute girl at the mall.
“It was your moment to celebrate with your brother,” he mumbled, already looking away. “And with Samsyn on the way with Carris, I figured you all would want to—”
He couldn’t determine how to label her sharp laugh. It wasn’t a full bark, but it was better than a ladylike chirp.
“And you truly think I want to spend any time with my brothers…why? And please do not with that confused glare, Sir.”
“Who says it’s a prete—ow!”
The tracks from the woman’s gouging nails were probably going to be permanent. She was clearly after the same result with the blue fire in her unrelenting gaze.
“The Creator is not merciful to liars, Brickham.”
“Thanks for the post of the day, Pixie.” He lowered his head, impaling their gazes tighter—and bringing their mouths an inch closer to each other. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all…or the best damn move he’d made tonight. His tone dropped to a husk as he managed to follow up. “But maybe you want to clarify some of this shit now, little girl?”