GYPSY STIRRED FROM HER SEAT, the wind curling strands of hair around her neck as she opened her heavy eyes and sat up to glance out the window. “Where are we?”
I turned my attention back to the road ahead, amusement playing across my lips. After the flights and a ferry ride, it was understandable that she had jet lag. It was her first international trip, and I’d somewhat sprang it on her without warning.
“We’re in Santorini,” I told her.
“Greece?” she rasped.
I snuck a glance at her, eyes tired but excited. She looked beautiful, as she always did, but her defenses were down right now, and there was value in that.
“You told me you wanted to travel the world. I thought this would be a good place to start.”
She offered me a sweet smile, the afternoon sun scattering over her skin like a kaleidoscope. We’d been traveling for far too long, and I was eager to get to the hotel where we would be uninterrupted for the next three days.
“If this is where we start,” she said. “Where does it end?”
“You’ll have to see,” I told her.
Her eyes were soft as they wandered over my face, almost repentant. “What about work?”
The trial was coming up in two months, and I had intentionally blocked off this time for that reason. Once the process started, I’d be seeing very little of Gypsy. It was important to me that we had this time together because I was all too aware that the stress of the trial could cause a rapid decline in my health.
“I’ve been working a lot.” I reached across the seat and took her hand in mine. “I thought maybe you finally deserved that honeymoon.”
The driver pulled to a stop in front of the hotel, and Gypsy couldn’t contain herself. She got out of the car before either of us could open the door, shielding her eyes with her hand as she peeked down at the sea. “This place is unreal,” she murmured. “It feels like we’re on top of the world.”
I took in the moment, watching her with a reverence that I couldn’t hide anymore. I wanted to remember her just like this. Beautiful and happy, facing the world with the wonderment of a child that most adults often forgot. I hoped she’d never lose that. I hoped that even when I was gone from her life, she would find contentment in the little things.
The driver removed our bags, and I took Gypsy’s hand in mine, following him down the narrow white stairs to the room.
“Don’t we have to check in?” she asked.
“No, I had them leave it unlocked. The keys are inside.”
Her response got lost in her curiosity as her eyes roamed over the property. The hotel was a group of suites located in the village of Imerovigli where my research told me we could see some of the best sunsets the world over. Perched on top of the island with a direct view of the volcano and the Aegean Sea, I hoped that Gypsy and I might find solace here.
We turned the corner, and Gypsy made a small sound of surprise as she looked around the space. “This is beautiful.”
And it was. We were surrounded by a white wash of Cycladic houses and hotels with a spattering of blue church domes. But the suite itself was large and private with a veranda overlooking the water and a plunge pool that extended inside the room. Gypsy already had her eye on it before we even made it inside.
I tipped the driver, and he left us on our own to explore the space. Gypsy walked around the room, touching the walls and examining the artwork before she found the bottle of champagne waiting for us on the table. She popped it with an easy familiarity and poured us each a glass.
“You look like you’re in your natural habitat,” I teased.
She handed me a glass, and then brought hers against mine. “Cheers to my husband.”
I swallowed, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. The sudden wave of reality washed over me, and my thoughts moved to a dark place without warning. Every day, these moments with her were dwindling. We had so little time together, and she had no idea. She was comfortable with me now. She had placed her trust in me. Possibly, she even had real feelings for me. I simultaneously wanted it and dreaded it.
“Lucian?” She reached out and touched my hand. “Where did you go?”
I offered her a stiff smile. “Nowhere. I was just trying to remember this moment. How beautiful you look right now.”
Her cheeks pinkened, and she wrapped her arms around my waist, resting her head against my beating heart. I wondered if she could sense it growing weaker, and I hoped she never did. If she knew how much it tormented me to think of leaving her alone, she would try to change it.
“I already told you that you don’t need to remember,” she murmured against me. “I’m right here.”
My answer was to kiss her, which was cheap. She deserved so much more from me. She deserved the truth, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I couldn’t risk that she would run away too early because selfishly, I wanted her in my life until the end.
“Can we sit out on the veranda?” she asked as she toyed with the hem of my shirt. “I bet the sunset is amazing here.”
I led the way, and we found ourselves on a couple of deck chairs, side by side, the ocean breeze gently teasing our senses as we waited for the sun to fall from the sky. It was a comfortable silence, but I could tell Gypsy’s mind was turning, and soon enough, she gave her thoughts a voice.
“Do you ever talk to your family?”
“No,” I admitted. “Since I went to prison, things have been tense between us.”
“That was a long time ago,” she said softly. “And you were exonerated, right? So why wouldn’t they want to talk to you?”
“It was a long time ago.” Gypsy waited for me to explain, but I wasn’t proud to acknowledge that I’d never forgiven them. “They’ve tried to reach out several times, expressing their regret and confusion over the situation. Maybe I should have been a better man, but it’s been difficult to let go of my resentment. Especially when I consider that if they had listened to me, maybe Dawson would still be alive today.”
Gypsy didn’t argue or judge me for what I said. She simply nodded. “I can’t say that I would feel any differently if I were you. Some things are just unforgiveable, but who knows. Maybe someday it will be different.”
“Maybe,” I lied.
She pointed her toe over at the plunge pool. “Want to test it out?”
I couldn’t deny that. We had full privacy on this veranda, and with no prying eyes, I had some ideas about this pool before we even got here. I drained my glass of champagne and took her hand, helping her up from the chair.
In the middle of the sunset, under a sky of burnt orange and vivid blues, I undressed the goddess of a wife I never thought I would have. I stripped her down until she was naked, and then she did the same to me. Her pupils dilated when she snuck a glance at the cock hanging down between my thighs. Already, blood was moving through my body and swelling uncomfortably as my eyes roamed over her full, soft breasts and curvy hips. I wanted her now, but Gypsy had other ideas as she dipped a toe into the water, testing it before she climbed inside and rested against the jet.
She gestured for me to sit beside her, and together, we leaned over the edge and watched the sun sink into the ocean.
“What does it mean?” I felt her fingers graze the inked skin on my back. “Revelations 21:4?”
“It’s for Dawson,” I told her. “I got it to remind myself that he’s in a better place. That even if I hate every second I’m not with him, he’s at peace.”
Gypsy was quiet for a moment while her fingertips fluttered over the design, taking it all in. “I guess that’s probably the best way to look at it,” she said quietly. “Isn’t it?”
The torment in her voice made me wonder what was going through her mind. “That’s the only way I can look at it. That’s how I’ve managed to survive the past seventeen years.”
Her head dipped, and she tried to hide her emotion. “I understand. It’s just that, if I were to believe in your God the way that you do, it would mean Birdie and I are going to hell.”
I tipped her chin back up and met her stormy gaze. “That’s not going to happen, pet.”
“How can you be so sure?” she argued. “If you believe what the church tells you, then you have to believe we’ve committed the ultimate sin.”
“That’s an ancient way of thinking, and it doesn’t apply to you,” I assured her. “If anyone is in hell, it’s Ricky. What happened that day was not your fault, and it wasn’t Birdie’s either. Someday, I hope you will come to understand and accept that.”
“Can you ever accept that what happened with Dawson wasn’t your fault?”
My fingers fell away from her, and a dark cloud descended over us. She was within her rights to say it, but it didn’t mean I liked it. “Let’s change the subject,” I said. “And save that conversation for another day.”
She was quiet for a pause before she acknowledged what I’d said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know.” Our hands came together in the water. “It’s just a subject that’s better left for another time.”
She nodded and stared off into the distance again. “How did you become a lawyer with a criminal record?”
“It wasn’t easy,” I told her. “After the news picked up the story of Dawson, some of the media outlets began to cast doubt on Nessie’s previous accusations against me. I wasn’t in any state of mind to care if my circumstances changed or not, but those stories were how Nolan found me.”
I felt her eyes on me, studying my face. “He helped you?”
“He saved me,” I said. “If he hadn’t come along, I honestly don’t know where I’d be right now. But he was the only one who had ever really believed in me, and he went to bat for me. He was able to prove that the cell phone records used to convict me weren’t reliable evidence, considering Nessie’s phone had pinged off the same towers. But that wasn’t enough to convince a judge, so he took it a step further by visiting my ex in prison. At that point, she knew she was facing life anyway, and he managed to get a full confession of what she’d done with one caveat.”
“What was it?” Gypsy asked.
“She wanted to see me.” I shook my head in disgust. “That was it. That was all she cared about. She wanted to see me one last time.”
“Did you go?”
“I’m a man of my word,” I said. “As soon as I was released, I went to visit her. And I’m not going to lie; if there hadn’t been plate glass between us, I might have murdered her.”
Gypsy nodded, no judgment in her eyes as she tangled her fingers in mine. “She would have deserved it.”
I didn’t want to discuss that anymore or give her any more minutes of my life, so I moved on. “Legally, I was exonerated, but there were still issues. It wasn’t easy to get my license. I had to pass a character exam, and there were questions. I had to go into details I didn’t want to. But in the end, they determined I was of reasonable character.”
She rested her chin on the edge of the pool and peeked up at me beneath her long dark lashes. “And you’ve been saving lost souls ever since.”
“It didn’t really start out that way,” I admitted. “At first, it took me some time to figure out what my path was. I took on a few cases that I probably shouldn’t have, but it was a learning experience for me. Nolan was my mentor, and with his help, we found a happy medium. I worked for him in the beginning, and he helped me get established until he retired. Then I moved to another firm, and Nolan and I started a foundation for wrongful convictions.”
Gypsy reached up and toyed with a loose strand of my hair. “Do you always believe in the innocence of the cases you take on?”
I stared out over the water, watching the waves ripple back and forth as I tried to find a way to explain it. I never had to justify myself to anyone before, but I wanted her to understand. “It isn’t always that black and white. Some of my clients might not be innocent in the eyes of the law, but morally, I can relate to the crimes they’ve committed in the name of justice. It doesn’t mean I condone what they’ve done, but I can understand it, and I want to help them.”
“Like, for example, someone who kills a child molester,” Gypsy ventured.
She was referring to Ricky, testing the water to see how I felt about the circumstances. Even though she hadn’t committed the crime, she’d taken on the moral responsibility of it.
I met her gaze. “If it had been you, it wouldn’t change anything for me.”
Her eyes moved over my features, trying to discern the truth. It was a dangerous confession to make. In a way, I’d just admitted my feelings for her. I’d done the one thing I said I wouldn’t and given her an out if she wanted it.
“Are you telling me that you don’t care what happened?” she asked.
“I do care.” I sighed. “I wish that the two of you were never put in that situation. I wish that you didn’t have to be the ones to do it. But if someone else had, would I care that he was dead? No.”
“So you never really wanted to put me in prison?”
I wiped away the froth bubbling at the top of the water and gave her an honest answer. “No.”
“I don’t get it,” she said. “I was exactly the thing you should have hated. A con artist. A manipulator. A liar. You should hate women like me after—”
“Don’t ever compare yourself to her,” I snarled. It came out more vicious than I’d intended, and I immediately regretted it. I needed to tread carefully with her. Sometimes, it was easy for me to forget how much shame she felt inside because she didn’t show it often.
I pulled her closer, burrowing my face against her neck. “I believed in you.”
Pain welled in her eyes, and she tried to look away, but I turned her gaze back to me. “I saw too much in you to believe that you were the person you were trying to be.”
“Or maybe you only saw what you wanted to,” she said. “Maybe I’m not as salvageable as you’d like me to be.”
“Then I don’t care,” I murmured against her lips. “Salvageable or not, I want you. Every broken and jagged piece of you.”
Her fingers curled in my hair, and she dragged my lips to hers, hungry, starving. She crawled into my lap, her breasts wet against my chest as she pivoted her hips against my cock. Even in the water, she was wet for me, and I needed to be inside her. I didn’t care if it was wrong anymore. I wanted to be inside her every second that I could until all my seconds were gone.
I hoisted her up into my arms, and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I set her on the edge of the pool and rubbed the head of my cock against her.
“Lucian,” she pleaded.
Nothing had ever sounded as sweet as her voice begging for me. Wanting me. I plunged inside her, and she dug her fingers into my back. We were wet and sloppy and disjointed when we came together, but none of it mattered. We raced toward that invisible line, desperate to throw ourselves off the cliff.
I needed to bury myself inside her and fill her with a part of me that I hoped would stay there forever, embedded in her DNA and chaining us together long after I ceased to exist on this earth.
“Fuck me like you’ll never let me go,” she whispered in my ear.
My chest contracted, and I buried my face in her neck, so she couldn’t see the lies in my eyes.
I fucked her like I’d never let her go.