By the time the sun started setting again, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold and orange, they were lying on the beach with a blanket spread beneath them.
"Three days down," Eve said, her head on his chest, her hand over his heart. "Eleven more to go."
Dimitri didn't respond. Just held her closer and listened to the sound of her breathing matching his own, the rhythm of the waves matching the rhythm of their heartbeats.
For now, there was just this. The island. The woman in his arms. The promise of eleven more days where nothing existed but them.
That would have to be enough.
That would be everything.
***
POV: ANTONIO VALENTINO
The office in Rome smelled like old wood and power.
