Chapter 10 - Stefania
“Adventure?” I mutter to myself, with Marlen already out of earshot. “What in the world is he talking about?”
Swinging my legs off the sun lounger, I grab my kimono and slip it over my shoulders. The sun is already crazy hot, and it’s still early in the morning. Today is going to be a scorcher. The sun is making a desperate attempt to shine despite winter creeping closer.
Adventure.
Today, being as beautiful as it is, is the first day I’ve ventured outside. I tried to use the umbrella to hide behind, but I guess I didn’t do a very good job.
I wonder what in the world he meant. When he said we were going away for a few days, my first thought was that he was planning to get rid of me.
To dump me somewhere, possibly lifeless.
But then he tells me to bring my swimsuit?
What game is this man playing? Is this some kind of manipulation to get me back for the kiss thing?
Whatever. An adventure sounds amazing. I’m going absolutely stir crazy in this place.
I’ll just keep my eyes open and a careful watch on him.
Upstairs in my room, I find an overnight bag waiting on my bed. It isn’t something I thought to buy for myself during the shopping spree, but it appears Marlen already recognized this oversight and kindly provided one. I scoff, annoyed that he can be so thoughtful but also such a complete asshole.
From my closet, I pull a few summery dresses and two different sandals.
My kimono. My sneakers, in case there is going to be a lot of walking.
Actually, I’ll just wear those now. A pair of smart jeans and a few tops.
Just in case, I throw in two warm tops. One thinner and lighter, the other a proper warm jacket.
After I’ve packed my toiletries and changed into a pair of shorts and my sneakers, I carry my bag downstairs and leave it at the front door.
“You look lovely,” Marlen says, arriving downstairs just behind me.
I crinkle my nose, unsure how to take the compliment.
My eyes trace over him. Casual jeans and a white t-shirt.
Grey sneakers. A baseball cap in his hand.
He looks relaxed and super fucking sexy.
The white shirt leaves little to the imagination when it comes to his toned abdomen.
Images of the kiss flash through my mind, pulsing through my body in heated lust. I blink several times in annoyance.
“Ready?” he asks.
“I’m not sure what I’m ready for, but yes.”
He smirks, and a little string of anxiety pulls inside me. What sinister plan does he have up his sleeve? “Do I need a hat?” I ask, eyeing his.
“No, there are plenty there, I just really like this one.” He lifts his baseball hat to show me, smiling awkwardly.
A favorite hat. I can’t picture a man like Marlen having a favorite hat. It seems like such a normal, human thing to do. To have a favorite anything. He picks up my bag, and I follow him out to the car, contemplating this new thought.
It’s strange that I know so little about him. Almost nothing, actually. I know he’s angry. I know he’s hurt by what my brothers did to his family. I know he likes cream-based sauces, like mushroom and cheese. But what else? Nothing.
He loves his family and would do anything for them.
My stomach churns. He would do anything for them, including getting rid of me.
Marlen opens the passenger side door for me, and I climb into the car, my eyes studying him, trying to see behind his expression to whatever he might be hiding.
He climbs in and starts the car.
The drive is quiet, and while he looks relaxed, I’m not.
We arrive at the yacht club, and he parks in a private garage. “I probably should have asked earlier, but do you get seasick?” he says.
“Not that I know of. I’ve only been on short day trips on yachts, though,” I shrug.
“Ok, well that’s good then. It’s less than a day’s sail to get there.”
I want to ask where, but I already know he won’t tell me. He seems to be enjoying the secret.
Marlen carries our luggage, and we walk down a jetty to the most magnificent white yacht.
“Ocean Rain,” I read out loud. The yacht’s name is written in a beautiful cursive style, with long, flowing letters. “Is that your handwriting?” I ask, remembering the note he left me.
“Yes, how did you know that?” he asks, surprised.
“I have a thing for handwriting, and yours stood out. It’s beautiful.”
“When did you… Oh,” he nods, understanding. “Thank you. I have a thing for handwriting, too. It’s a lost art these days. People don’t appreciate it as much as they used to.”
“I taught myself calligraphy,” I tell him as we step onto the yacht.
“That’s impressive. It shows your levels of patience.
I’d love to see it someday,” he smiles, his eyes warm and friendly, not dangerous or full of warning.
Still, the tension in my stomach doesn’t leave.
I can’t help but think he’s going to sail us out into the middle of the ocean and shove me overboard.
It would be so easy. He wouldn’t even have to get his hands dirty.
He could just leave me floating there for certain death.
A shiver runs down my spine.
“Welcome aboard,” the captain says, greeting us.
“Hi, Captain Jake, this is Stefania,” Marlen says.
“Hi, Captain Jake,” I smile, shaking his hand.
“Just Jake is fine.” He bows his head in greeting.
The cabin crew takes our luggage and asks me if I would like to see my cabin or have a tour of the yacht.
“Show her to her cabin so she can settle in while we leave port. I’ll give her a tour of the yacht once we’re on our way and she’s ready,” Marlen answers on my behalf. I let the young man lead me to my cabin, wondering what I need to get ready for.
***
Marlen doesn’t sail me to the middle of the ocean and drop me in the ocean. Not yet, anyway.
Instead, we sail to a very small island, arriving late in the evening after the most incredible sunset I’ve ever seen. It painted colors too beautiful to describe across the surface of a calm ocean, and honestly, I’ll never forget that moment. It’s an image that’s forever etched into my memory.
The island’s lights grow brighter as we get closer.
“You can anchor here, then give us a lift to shore,” Marlen tells the captain, who is standing out on the deck with us.
“Yes, sir, will you be taking the…”
“Let’s do the fun choice tonight,” he grins.
“Yes, sir,” the captain says, smiling as he walks away.
“Leave your sneakers on the yacht. The crew will bring them for you with the luggage,” Marlen says, looking excited.
The fun choice turns out to be jet skis.
I’m perched on the back of one, my thighs spread around Marlen’s hips, my arms wrapped around his waist, my cheek pressed into his back, and my heart running full speed as he races us away from the yacht.
“Couldn’t we go with the luggage on the little boat?” I shout, but he can’t hear me.
Water splashes up and into my face, cool and salty. I close my eyes and try to tell my heart it doesn’t have to be afraid and that I should enjoy this experience. It’s only my fear of what Marlen has planned for me that’s stopping me from doing so.
You love this sort of spontaneous adrenaline, Stef, enjoy it!
I force myself to pull my head up, to look around, to try and take it all in.
Marlen doesn’t go straight for the shoreline; he takes us on a ride all the way around the island, stopping when we’re floating in front of a little village.
“A lot of people call this place home. This side of the island is for those people; the other side is my resort,” he tells me.
I look across the village. Glowing lights and laughter drift across the ocean from the shoreline.
There is a bonfire on the beach and people sitting around it, enjoying the warm evening.
“Your resort?” I ask, confused.
“Yes, it’s a small luxury escape from my life. I needed somewhere to go where no one would find me. A place to clear my thoughts and have a real break.”
“So, you built a resort?” I scoff.
He chuckles, his body vibrating against me. “Yes, I guess I did,” he says, revving forward again. I tighten my grip to not fall off.
He takes us around the back of the island, showing me the rest of the village, then finally comes to a stop on a sandy white beach in front of a villa that looks like someone plucked it off a Greek island and wedged it here in the sand.
I wiggle off the jet ski, stepping into warm ocean water. Marlen grabs a rope from beneath the seat and ties the jet ski to a palm tree on the shore. Then he turns and gestures for me to follow him.
The villa is magnificent. “This is the main residence. On either side, there are two smaller villas for when my family wants to use the island. I like to keep it private, though. We don’t have clients or business partners here.
This is just for the family; otherwise, it wouldn’t feel as safe as it does,” he explains, leading me around.
There is a communal eating area that looks like a five-star restaurant. It faces the ocean with wide glass windows that can open all the way to make it feel like you’re right on the beach. Behind that is a kitchen fit for award-winning chefs, but open for any guests who feel like cooking.
There is a beach bar, a swimming pool bigger than most houses, a basketball court, a spa, Jacuzzis, a coffee bar, a gym… anything I can think of, I think I’ll find here.
After a tour, Marlen takes me to my room. My bed faces the ocean and a massive private balcony. I can smell the sea air and feel the warm breeze while I’m lying in bed.
“Breakfast is at eight, you can meet me downstairs in the restaurant,” he tells me. “Sleep well, Stefania. If you leave the balcony doors open, you’ll want to sleep under the net curtain around your bed. This is an island after all.”
“Thank you,” I smile. Marlen leaves.
I flop down onto the bed and giggle. This is incredible.
I can see why he calls this an escape. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, and I can’t wait to explore more in the morning.
***