He buys time, sips his champagne. “Arina. Running a business in Mexico isn’t always easy.”
“What does that mean?” I frown. “What kind of business are you talking about?”
“Look,” he sighs and takes another bite, taking far too much time to swallow, and I feel mildly annoyed.
“Ilariy?” I ask, raising an eyebrow in his direction.
“Okay. Look,” he sighs. “The thing is, I have interests in many countries. Some of them are corrupt, and we have to grease palms, do things we aren’t proud of. Sometimes, things can escalate.”
“Okay, fine,” I say. “You bribe people. Big deal. But why would you be afraid enough to change hotels? Why would someone try to take me in the middle of the wretched street?”
“Because I’ve made people angry,” he admits, looking a little sad at the admission. “Let’s just say… There are people inthis country who don’t appreciate my presence. Not everyone plays fair here.”
“Why? What did you do? And what people?”
“I don’t want to drag you into it,” he says immediately.
“In case you haven’t noticed, Ilariy,” I hiss. “You already have.”
He looks like I’ve struck him across the face.
Just then, the waiter comes to ask if we’d like some dessert, and Ilariy shakes his head, like he wants nothing more than for this night to end.
“Just the check, please. Thanks!” he says.
“Wait, what?” I screech, not wanting our conversation to end until I have answers. “What if I want dessert?”
“Do you?” he asks. “You haven’t ordered dessert a single night we’ve been here.”
That’s true. He noticed. I don’t exactly have a sweet tooth.
“Fine, just the check,” I admit sheepishly, but turn to Ilariy. “But this conversation isn’t over.”
“I told you everything,” he protests, topping the last of the champagne into our glasses.
“But—” I try to protest, but Ilariy breaks into a smile.
“Do you really want to spend the last few moments on this beautiful beach arguing, Arina?” he asks, his voice so hoarse it does something to my stomach. “How about… we take a walk along the beach while we wait for the check? Enjoy the sand and the water?”
There’s something in the way he says it that makes me pause and reconsider. There’s always time for answers, but what he proposes sounds like a beautiful idea.
I finally relent with a smile, and he walks over, helps me out of my chair.
“If I were you,” he suggests, his eyes trailing down my body in a way that makes me shiver. “I’d take those heels off.”
I blush and do as he says, carrying them in one hand while linking my other arm in his. Together, we walk to the shore.
We stand there in silence for a while, enjoying the waves. Occasionally, I steal a look at him, see the serenity in his face as he gazes up at the stars, at the foam on the waves. He looks so at peace, so gentle, so soft.
“Thank you for this,” I murmur softly. “It’s beautiful out here.”
He looks at me like I’ve made him the happiest man possible, and I feel my heart flutter. “You deserve beautiful things, Arina,” he says, and my stomach does a somersault.
“Why?” I ask, with a hoarse voice. “I’m no one to you.”
“It’s like you said, I dragged you into this mess,” the guilt washes over his face.
He says it so simply, with such quiet honesty that for a while, I don’t know what to say. What is there to say to a man who changed your life on an impulsive decision? Who now acknowledges what he did?
