Azure (Drowning In You)

by Thoma, Chrystalla

  “My opinion?” He sobered, lifted his hand. “No, miss, please. I only joke.”

  “Why, is he touchy about his size?”

  “Size?” Panos frowned, then threw his head back and roared with laughter. It came from deep inside him, rocking his shoulders. “Very funny. Maybe you do this for him.”

  “Do what?”

  “Make him laugh. He need it.”

  Her heart clenched. “Why?”

  Panos shook his shaggy head. “He never laugh. Never cry. Nothing. Make Kai laugh.”

  “Are you offering me a job?” she teased. “Should I report my daily progress to you? Will I get a commission?”

  “Commission, yes.” He nodded enthusiastically. “You are hired. One per cent.”

  “Excuse me?” She tapped a finger on her lips. “Ninety per cent.”

  “Ten.”

  “Eighty.”

  “Fifteen.”

  “Eighty.”

  “Oh.” He rubbed his chin, scratched the dark stubble. “Tough woman. Twenty.”

  “Seventy five, final offer.”

  He sighed. “All right. Deal.”

  They shook hands formally, and she skipped to her room to leave her bags of shopping. It didn’t occur to her until later, when she went to knock on Kirsten and Markus’ door, that she hadn’t even asked what her commission consisted of.

  ***

  She spent the afternoon with Kirsten getting roasted on the beach, dipping into the waves from time to time to cool down. A wind was rising from the west, bringing white caps on the sea and trying to pull away their towels.

  Olivia flopped belly down on her towel, her hair streaming seawater down her back. Damn, she was getting sunburned and she didn’t care. The warmth felt so good on her skin.

  Kirsten pulled out a dog-eared book — Shakespearean sonnets? Really? — and opened it on a marked page.

  “So,” Olivia said, because she’d forgotten to bring a book, dammit, “how was your hike?”

  “War nicht schlecht,” Kirsten said, putting her finger as a bookmark. Wasn’t bad. “Well, to be precise, it was wonderful. Walked through these small villages, and there was a cave on a hill. We went up a thousand steps to reach it.”

  Olivia shuddered. She didn’t mind sports — she liked swimming and biking — but in this heat...

  “There was a church inside,” Kirsten said, opening her book again. “With old frescoes, destroyed by humidity.”

  And Markus almost got a heatstroke and was now lying in the darkness of their room, wet cloths on his face, fast asleep.

  Olivia buried her smile in the crook of her sandy arm. She got a mouthful of sand and spat it out. “Yuck. Hey, I met a cute guy.”

  “Hm huh.” Kirsten didn’t even look up. “How cute?”

  “Oh I don’t know. A ten, I guess.”

  That made Kirsten look up, eyes wide. “No way. You’ve never given a ten to anyone.”

  Not even Justin. Olivia wagged her brows. “I have now.” She’d said it to get Kirsten’s attention, but now she thought about it... Yeah. He might be a ten. She’d have to have another look. Purely for verification purposes. Right.

  Kirsten’s eyes searched her own. “So is he your...?” She waved a hand, looking for the word.

  “My rebound guy?”

  “Rebound, yes.”

  “No, he’s not. He’s just a mystery to keep me busy.”

  “It doesn’t hurt to have a rebound guy.”

  “Yes, it does.” She wasn’t into one night stands, or even two-week relationships. “He’s a case for me to investigate.”

  “All right, Ms Detective Liv.” Kirsten winked. “Now listen to this, which is pertinent: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May—”

  Olivia threw her sunglasses at Kirsten. “Shut up. I said he’s hot, I’m not about to start reciting poetry about him.”

  “Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, and often is his gold—”

  Olivia wrestled Kirsten for the book and won. She hugged it to her wet chest, resting her breasts on top of it.

  Kirsten squealed in dismay. “You’ll pay for this. Dearly.”

  Olivia huh-hummed and closed her eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Suit the action to the word, the word to the action.

  Shakespeare

  The sharks are circling; swim faster.

  Myra Crow

  Her project wasn’t going so well.

  That night after dinner, Olivia strolled down to the beach bar, but Kai wasn’t there. She walked the beach, fingering the cool pebble at her throat, but he didn’t appear. It was as if the earth had swallowed him.

  Well, that was too bad. And truth be told, she was having second thoughts. Her motives weren’t entirely objective.

  Well, of course they weren’t. She rolled her eyes at herself. She and Justin had just broken up — well, two weeks ago — and Kai was cute, not to mention mysterious and sexy.

  What if Kirsten was right? What if she simply wanted a rebound guy, and what if in the process she broke her heart — bruised her heart — all over again? She shouldn’t be thinking about men at all.

  Besides, it felt like she’d be using Kai to forget about Justin — and what would be the purpose of investigating him? She’d probably rarely see him, if ever, before she left in two weeks time.

  Stupid game. Stupid project. She’d just chill out and read. She’d brought along a promising novel and she’d sit on her balcony with the view of the sea and sink into the story. Sink deep and lose herself in someone else’s life. Characters in novels tended to have adventures that ended happily. It gave her hope.

  As for Panos and his job... what a joke. Let the blind guide the blind. Make Kai laugh. Huh. Why had she ever said yes? After battling depression for over a year, it had taken Germany and Kirsten to rise above it. Germany had done her a world of good. Kirsten still ran after her, pressing her to eat, but at least Olivia had regained some of her curves, and she smiled a lot more. Life was looking up and she wouldn’t let Justin or anyone drag her down again.

  Which was why she wasn’t going to call him. Not that she was chicken shit, afraid she’d take him back just for the security he offered, the space between his arms where she could hide. The happiness there was temporary.

  No more hiding. New beginnings.

  The music was quiet tonight at the beach bar. Maybe it was still early. The barman, a thin, tall guy with fair hair and a goatee, glanced up when she sat on a stool. He nodded.

  “What are you having?”

  “Something Cretan,” she decided.

  “Raki,” he said and poured her a shot of clear alcohol, placing a small bottle next to her glass. “It’s like Grappa. Served chilled.”

  She downed the shot and went a little cross-eyed. “Whoa.”

  He grinned. “Like it?”

  She chuckled and poured herself another. “Not bad. So you’re Cretan, too?”

  “What do you think?” He started to wipe down the bar.

  “You’re blond.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She laughed. “I take it not all Cretans are dark-haired, then.”

  “But our hearts are black as pitch.” He winked and she kept laughing. “Come on, you seriously think I’m Cretan?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Bloody hell, no. Do I sound like a Greek?” He made a face.

  She grinned. “I did think your English was very good...” Yes, this was much better. Safe. Forgetting who she was or where. No projects, no responsibilities. No past. “So where are you from?”

  “England. I’m dating one of the girls. The boss’s daughter.”

  Heh. “Tell me about this place. Where should I go for swimming? Are those small coves to the west any good?”

  He hummed. “They’re not bad.” He wiped the bar more vigorously and his jaw clenched.

&
nbsp; “What is it?” The alcohol made her head buzz and the murmur of the waves wafted to her ear. It almost sounded like voices singing. “Tell me.”

  “Nothing. Always be careful of the currents, and when the winds gather, then be sure to be on shore. The Cretan sea is tricky. Storms come suddenly and catch you by surprise.”

  She nodded, her heart beating faster. The guide said to pay attention to flags for swimming. She should check the weather calendar in the back of the book. “September a wind month?”

  “Yes. And if you really want my advice, miss...” He seemed uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, not looking at her.

  “I do. Go ahead and hit me with it.”

  “Avoid the Wreck Beach. Yes, it’s pretty and your guide or the internet may say it’s a good place to go. Don’t.”

  “Okay.” She wiped her hands on her bare legs and shivered. “Why not?”

  “Old magic.” He shrugged. “I know most people don’t believe it. But since the accident, we never go there.” He raised his hands, crossing his fingers. “Bad luck. And death.”

  Oh. Nice.

  ***

  Olivia woke up feeling rested, which was odd. What, no hangover?

  That Raki stuff was good. She was ready today for whatever Crete cared to dole out — especially of it included hikes in the hills and swimming in the blue sea, and maybe even the sampling of some local food.

  But soon she realized that it wasn’t to be. Typical vacation bad luck.

  Kirsten came down to breakfast looking distraught, her face pale. Markus still felt ill, dizzy and light-headed, and she’d asked the reception to call for a doctor.

  Breakfast was a quiet affair, the silence strained. They went up quickly. Olivia hovered at the door to her friends’ room. She hated this, hated to see either of them in pain.

  The doctor came not ten minutes later, a young man in cargo pants and a long t-shirt. He examined Markus and pronounced him dehydrated with a slight heatstroke. Then he prescribed rest and cold packs for Markus’s head, lots of liquids and ice-cream.

  This last bit made Markus grin and Kirsten swatted at him, trying to hide her relief. Good news.

  “What is life but ice and cream?” Markus quoted, his eyes closed and a cold compress on his brow. “The sky is vast and we but a dream.”

  “And the sun too strong,” Kirsten muttered. “You’re making this up.”

  “Myra Crow,” Markus said, waving a hand at her. “Shakespeare’s got nothing on her.”

  “Oh please. Ice and cream? A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool.”

  “There she goes again, insulting me with the words of a man dead for at least five centuries,” Markus sighed. “Myra died in the last few years. Her words still echo in this place.”

  The doctor departed and Markus fell quiet. Hikes and days on the beach with her friends were out of the question for the time being. Kirsten begged off going to the beach, and Olivia hugged her, rubbing her friend’s back, and told her not to worry. The main thing was to get Markus back on his feet. Besides, they still had many days ahead of them.

  She squeezed Markus’s shoulder, knowing he must be beating himself over the head for such a rookie mistake — going out in the Cretan countryside, in September, still summer in the Mediterranean, without a hat and not drinking enough water. “You’ll be fine by tomorrow,” she told him. “Take it easy and stay in bed.”

  “Only if Kirsten comes to bed with me,” he said, still grinning. “Woof.”

  “Down, big man.” Kirsten shook her head. “You’re insufferable. And don’t you dare quote that woman poet again.”

  “What? You keep quoting stuff.”

  Olivia left them to their own devices and went to her room. Okay, so, new plan. She was going to have some fun no matter what. That was the purpose of the trip. Forgetting. Beginning. Being.

  She put on her bikini, grabbed her goggles and her beach provisions and headed down. Panos looked up when she entered the lobby, giving her a thin smile that reminded her of Kai.

  Stop thinking about him.

  “Your friend okay?” he asked as he took her room key and hung it on the wooden board behind him.

  “Yeah, just a slight heatstroke. Nothing some rest won’t cure.” She licked her lips nervously. “Hey, the barman last night told me that there’s a beach with a wreck not far from here?”

  Panos’ smile slipped. “You not like this beach?”

  “It’s lovely. I just want to explore the area.” He was frowning now and it made her want to know more. “The barman said something about an accident. What happened?”

  “Matt? He talk a lot.” Panos thick brows cast shadows over his hazel eyes. “Talk and talk. Accident is old.”

  “What sort of an accident, then?”

  He didn’t seem so pleased to see her anymore. He turned slightly sideways, moving papers below the desk. “Boat sink.”

  “The wreck?”

  “The wreck on beach is old. The accident years ago. Sudden storm. Wind. Current.” He made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Boat crashed on rock. People die.”

  She shivered. “I wouldn’t go deep, just splash in the shallows. I’d like to see the beach, if it’s so beautiful.”

  “You no go there. Bad. Danger. No.” He seemed to lose all grammar when he was upset.

  “Then I’ll just wet my feet and walk along the water. No problem.”

  He shook his head and muttered something in Greek. She thought she caught the word “tourist” as she turned to leave.

  The hotel beach was relatively empty when she went down and spread her towel on a deck chair. She dutifully applied sunscreen and tugged on her big straw hat. She wasn’t going the same way as Markus. No way was she spending her vacation in bed.

  As soon as her skin began to heat up, she donned her goggles and plunged into the rippling sea. With strong, even strokes, she started toward the island she could see in the distance. Setting out in a front crawl, turning her head to the side to breathe in, then to breathe out, she let the rhythm of the exercise clear out her mind. The chain around her neck pressed into her skin. She didn’t let it distract her, although she should probably have taken it off. Her legs kicked at the waves and she felt free.

  When she stopped to catch her breath, the beach was a colorful line, the umbrellas tiny white tufts like flowers, the hotel a massive presence behind. The sea spread around her, heaving and dark. A current tugged at her legs. Both the island and the beach looked now far away.

  Fear pricked her chest. She was a strong swimmer and had often swam deep, but maybe it was Panos’ uneasy gaze, his words of danger, or this unknown water that made her turn and knife her way back toward the beach as if the devil snapped at her heels.

  She couldn’t recall ever swimming so fast. She lost track of time as she struggled to keep her strokes even, to take deep breaths on the upstroke. Still, by the time she made out the people on the beach, the colors of their swimsuits, she was lightheaded and exhausted.

  Stupid, Liv.

  She finally stumbled in the shallows, her legs like rubber.

  There had been no real danger. You made it dangerous by hurrying. There was no reason. Listening to stories and scared shitless. You’re not three years old.

  Someone stood at the water’s edge, hands fisted at his sides, staring at her. A mop of dark, glossy hair and wide shoulders was all she made out before he spun on his heel and started climbing up the beach toward the bar.

  She trudged wearily to the beach and dragged her feet to her desk chair where she proceeded to flop, face down, until her gasping breaths evened out and the stars faded from her eyes.

  Jeez. She was so out of shape.

  A silhouette cast a shadow on her face and something glass-shaped was placed by her head.

  “Are you all right?” Kai’s deep voice asked and she squinted up to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. “I brought you some water.”

  Whoa.
Dressed in ripped jeans and a white t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest, his hair falling into those shining eyes, he was definitely a ten. Ten plus, maybe. She wasn’t sure. Her brain had blanked.

  His eyes seemed darker than ever, pupils dilated even in the glaring sunlight. They rested on her face, moved down to her breasts, then back up. His scrutiny made her catch her breath.

  She curled her wrinkly fingers around the glass and sat up. “Thanks for the water.”

  “You shouldn’t swim that far in,” he said and looked out at the sea. His jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked. “It’s dangerous.”

  “You’re worried about me?” she asked, the words slipping out before she realized how flirty and teasing they sounded.

  He huffed, mouth flattening into a line, and turned around. “I need to get back to work.”

  Wait, whoa again. Work?

  Gripping the glass of cool water, she watched him stride toward the beach bar where people sat at the tables, sipping coffees and lemonades. Kai disappeared behind the bar, swallowed by the dimness.

  Oh. Right, a glimpse into the mystery named Kai: he didn’t just deliver groceries to the hotel. He was the daytime barman.

  Now you’re telling me.

  Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her towel around her hips, hung her goggles on her arm and went to get a table.

  ***

  Kai marched up to her table and whipped out his notepad, not looking at her. He stared at it as if it held all the secrets in the universe. “Why aren’t your friends with you?”

  His cold tone was like a slap. “Do I have to answer the question or will you get me something to drink anyway?”

  He glanced up, brows arching, and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I was just... When I saw how far you swam...” He shook his head and lowered his gaze. “Never mind.”

  Hell. He’d been really worried about her. The anger left her as fast as it had come. “Markus had a heatstroke. He’ll be fine. Kirsten is nursing him back to health.”

  He nodded, a jerky movement. “What can I get you?”

  “A lemonade, please.” She waited but he didn’t look up, only nodded again and turned to go. “So you’re Panos’ little cousin.”