Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Her eyes go wide, and I chuckle. I realize I have laughed more with her stranded on this island than I have in years.
Even before I took over the business, I don’t ever remember laughing.
“What?” she asks, and her voice pulls me back to the here and now.
I shake my head. “I was just thinking.”
“About?” Sincerity drips from the question. She truly wants to know.
In my actual life, I don’t talk about my feelings, and I don’t answer to anyone. But it’s different here on this island. A part of me wants to tell her, but I don’t, but I’m still surprised about my desire to open up to her.
Maybe it’s because she is my only companion, but—and I won’t admit this to her, although I’m sure she knows—there is a very good chance we will die here.
I’m okay with that.
I made my peace with dying a long time ago.
But even if I’m resigned to my fate, that doesn’t mean I want my time left to be spent fighting.
Even if she is my enemy’s daughter, that has no bearing here and now.
For whatever time we have left, we’ll work together. That’s really our best shot at survival. Then if we escape, we can cross the next bridge. I’m sure she knows my vendetta won’t end because we went fishing together, but there is no point in thinking about that now.
“Let’s go. We’ll go fishing in the shallow part of the ocean. I usually go over there.” I point toward the opposite section of the beach. “It’s about a twenty-minute walk.”
“Do I need anything?”
“Grab the tape. Also, I have a spear and also a large stick beside that tree.”
“Um, okay.”
“I’m going to use the spear. I’ll stand on the rock over there and try to fish that way.”
“You can do that?”
“Yeah, remember? Years spent training for this,” I respond.
“And the long stick and tape?” she asks, brow raised in question. There was actually supposed to be a net and a hook in the raft, but it must have fallen out—but I don’t tell her that because it’s not important. I can make something for her to fish with.
“That’s for you. It takes years of practice and skill to use a spear to catch a fish, but if we tape the large leaf of the palm tree, you can use that to catch smaller fish.”
“Seriously? You have to be joking.”
I give her a stare that tells her I’m anything but joking. “You said you wanted to learn.” My lip tips up. “If you are a good girl, I’ll even let you touch my spear.”
She rolls her eyes at my blatant attempt at a sexual joke, but I don’t miss the way her pupils widen just before she does it.
Interesting.
It seems my little dove isn’t against the idea at all.
This I can work with.
That certainly would be a better way of spending our time, at least our nights. Maybe then I won’t have to talk about myself anymore.
When it’s obvious I’m not going to say more, she walks over to the tree and grabs the gear I told her to.
“All your stuff. Spear included,” she mocks.
“It’s a big one, right?”
“Lord.” She laughs. A loud and contagious laugh. One that makes me laugh too.
Better be careful, Alaric. If you keep laughing like this, you might grow to like her, and that is not a good plan.
Pushing down the thought circling my head, I grab my knife and place it in the back pocket of my pants that I’ve since cut into shorts.
She walks up to me and reaches out her hand, holding the sticks.
I take my spear, and we both walk.
We’re quiet on the trek. When we finally get to the shallow lagoon, I point at a spot a few feet away from where we stand.
“You’re going to fish over there. And I’m going to be a little deeper on that rock.”
“Am I going to get wet?”
“Where you’re standing? No. But I would recommend if you don’t want to get your pants wet that you take them off,” I say as I remove my shirt and then set it down on the sand,
“You’re just saying that ’cause you want to see me naked.”
I lift my brow. “Maybe. Maybe not. But you won’t even be naked.”
“Practically,” she counters.
“You’ll still have a tank. It will be like you are wearing a bathing suit. And why so modest? I’ve already seen you naked.”
“Fine.” Then she pulls down her pants.
The truth is, she shows no more skin than someone on a family trip to the beach would. But there is still something very enticing about the picture she’s portraying.
Her skin is sun-kissed. Her dark brown hair flows in the sea breeze. She looks like a sea goddess, a siren luring me toward her. I don’t go, though. Instead, I squat down on the sand and tape the leaf to make a net.