Page 28 of Chasing Caine
She nudged my leg with her foot and frowned at me before putting her hat back on. “You know what I meant.” She stood and picked up her tan handbag with its asymmetrical F-shaped frame. The way she’d been tossing the bag about put into question how much she actually accepted my spending money on her. Like a tiny passive aggression.
“And our towels are being taken down right now.”
Small pleasure craft motored around the edges of the large natural pool formed by the island’s shore and the sea stacks. The beach club was built into the side of the cliffs, and the lounge chairs and sun beds sat on concrete slabs among the carved rocks. We walked to the stairs leading down to the most private space available on the outcropping.
“Come on,” she said, taking my hand as we climbed down the steps. Her hat was so wide it tickled my ear when she leaned close to me. “What did Mario say about the missing fresco? Did he find any details?”
“Nothing yesterday and nothing so far today. He checked the tracking software, paperwork, areas in the lab where it may have been, and no sign of it. He also spoke with everyone who would have worked on it or authorized work on it, and no one knows.”
“Has he called the authorities?”
“Not yet.”
A young man in a beach club uniform smiled as we neared our sun beds, laying the towels and a small bottle of sunscreen on a table between them. He’d flattened the beds for lazing in the sun and positioned a blue umbrella behind them, which we could tilt for shade. We were closest to the cliffs, down a few steps and somewhat isolated from the others.
“Due Sangrie, per favore.” I slipped a bill from my pocket and shook his hand with it.
“Sì, signore.” He gave a curt nod and was off to get our drinks.
Samantha stood with fists on her hips, eyebrow raised. “Why not?”
I pulled my shirt off and folded it on top of my bed. “There are still two of the conservators he’s not spoken to. Bianca was out sick and Océane—from my team—took a trip when we were delayed.”
“A trip where?”
I shrugged. I was not actually her boss and there was no work to be done, so I hadn’t asked.
“So we’re going to see them tomorrow?”
“Sì, bella, Bianca tomorrow. Océane if she’s back.”
“Good. I’ve been thinking about this non-stop.”
“Hopefully not while we were making love,” I teased.
She feigned a glower, but didn’t miss a beat. “Still, if they knew something about it, they would’ve logged it somewhere, right?”
“Give me your things. I’ll take them to our locker.” I held out a hand, waiting, but she didn’t move her fists. “Do you think worrying about it right now will fix anything?”
Grumbling under her breath, she undid the ties at her waist. The dress floated off her shoulders, and she folded it on top of my shirt.
“Wow.” My eyes scanned the length of her lithe figure and long legs. Seeing her in the small bikini—in public, knowing I was the only man whose hands would touch the skin underneath—sent a spark through my body.
Her frown deepened. “That was eloquent.”
Chuckling at her insistence on remaining irritated about the fresco, I leaned closer, pulling the brim of her enormous hat down on either side of our faces, creating a private space. “I want to rip that bathing suit off you with my teeth.”
Her eyebrows shot up. Perhaps it was a trick of the light under the hat, but it appeared she was blushing. “That was better.”
“If we were alone, I would ravish every square inch of your exquisite body.”
She chuckled at that line. Was it nerves? Insecurity? Regardless, chuckles were not my goal.
I dropped the pitch of my voice. “And I would bury myself in you so deeply—”
She sucked in air and her eyes widened. There. That was my goal.
Returning to playful, I smirked. “—that you would relax for a moment.” I kissed her on the nose and released the hat as she smacked me. Picking up the dress, my shirt, and her handbag, my gaze traveled the length of her again. She was stunning beyond words. “Now lie down. I’ll be right back.”