His green eyes are pleading with me to tell him the truth and that’s when I realize I can’t hide anymore. Everywhere I go, someone is going to find out who I am. As long as I’m running, I’ll never be able to be Alex Carmichael again.
But if Daimon was telling me the truth, that means the prince is requesting my safe return so they can kill me. But why would he contact Europol if he were planning to kill me. Unless… Maybe the prince found out his wife was trying to have me murdered. What if he’s trying to save me?
No, I shouldn’t flatter myself with such dangerous delusions. I have to go to Monaco. I have to kill the prince and princess before they kill me.
“I’ll go with you,” I whisper, barely able to force the words out of my mouth.
“You will?” He seems almost as surprised as I am.
I look him in the eye and nod. “Yes, I’ll go with you to meet this prince. We’ll leave in a couple of days.”
He smiles and grabs both my hands. “You’re doing the right thing, Alyssa. I mean, should I call you Alex?”
“Call me Alex and I’ll break your neck.” His face turns two shades whiter, then I chuckle heartily. “I’m kidding. You can call me whatever you want.” I lean forward and lay a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Alyssa, Alex, keeper of your heart…”
If these are my last days on this island, I should at least make the most of them.
Nick takes my face in his hands and kisses me hard as he gently pushes me back onto the sofa. I curl my legs around his waist as he grinds his pelvis into mine. He may actually remember to get me off this time.
He slides his hands between my legs and I thrust my hips upward, primed to receive his touch, but all he does is push my panties down.
“No. Get up,” I say a bit too impatiently.
“What’s wrong?”
I push his shoulders back and it takes him a moment to get the hint. He sits back on the other end of the sofa so I can sit up. I have half a mind to tell him he’s doing it wrong, but I can’t. Our last days on this island are supposed to be pleasant.
Besides, I’m pregnant with another man’s child. I can’t have sex with Nick. Wouldn’t that make me a whore? Even if Daimon is dead, he’s dead at my hand. So, technically, that would make me a black widow.
“I’m sorry. I’m just dying to take a shower and a nap. I was a little worried about you choking on your vomit last night, so I didn’t get much sleep.” I stand from the sofa and he stands after me. “I’ll be back later. Or you can come by my place in a few hours.”
He looks a little dissatisfied with this explanation, and with my leaving him with a throbbing bulge in his pants, but he just nods. “Whatever you say. I’ll come by later to check on you.”
We say our goodbyes and I hurry home. After a quick shower, I don’t bother reapplying any ointment or bandage to my scrape. I just dab it dry and slip into a nightgown. Then I curl up in bed, hugging my pillow between my thighs.
“Where are you, Daimon?” I whisper my plea to the bedroom window. “I’m pregnant.”
I adjust the pillow between my legs and the friction sends a tiny shock of pleasure into my clit. Closing my eyes, I imagine it’s Daimon’s bulge, which is a bit more impressive than Nick’s. I wrap my legs around the pillow as I slide it back and forth.
“Oh, Daimon,” I breathe, imagining Daimon’s jeans popping at the seams over his hard cock.
Up and down, forward and backward, he grinds into me until he can’t take it anymore. He must taste me.
I kick off my panties and spread my legs wide, then I reach for my throbbing clit.
“Oh, God! Daimon!”
My hips buck against his mouth as he licks me up and down then in a slow swirling pattern. Oh, that tongue. That beautiful tongue.
“Yes, Daimon. I’m coming.”
My body convulses and as my pussy clenches intermittently, releasing a river of juices for Daimon. I take a moment to collect myself, then I roll onto my side and pull the covers up to my chin. I need to get some rest. Maybe I’ll just stay in bed all day.
Tomorrow, I’ll spend my last day on this island with Nick. And I’ll make love to him, whether he makes me come or not. Because life isn’t always about what you can get. Sometimes you have to give more than you receive.
Then we’ll leave for Monaco. Nick will imagine a beautiful reunion. While I imagine something a bit more bloody.
Alex Carmichael is dead.
Daimon Rousseau may be dead.
But after tomorrow, the Prince and Princess of Monaco will definitely be dead.
Chapter Ten DAIMON
I cut through the neighbor’s backyard to get away from Alex’s cottage. I’m not surprised to find eighty-year-old Ignacio pulling weeds in his strawberry garden.
“Hola, Ignacio!” I shout to him.
He straightens out his crooked back and turns toward the sound of my voice. Flashing me a glorious toothless smile, he waves vigorously. He doesn’t know my name, so he doesn’t return the greeting verbally. All he knows, from the first time I passed through here last night is that I live on a forty-foot sailboat in the harbor on the other side of the island. And that I’m in love with the new girl next door.
I had to be up front with him about this. Then he wouldn’t mind me cutting through his backyard every once in a while. Everyone understands a person in love acts irrationally.
Which is why I’ve given Alex the benefit of the doubt that she purposely left me alive. If she had wanted to kill me, I’m certain I’d be dead. And what I’ve seen while observing her so far only solidifies this theory in my mind.
Alex knew exactly how to kill me without leaving any evidence. The plan she executed at the masquerade ball was not something the average woman her age could pull off. Her only mistake was believing she could set aside her feelings for me long enough to follow through with her plan. Well, that was her second mistake.
Her first was watering down the tranquilizer so she would have time to divulge her plan to me before I fell unconscious. She watered it down too much. I had to pretend to be unconscious, then I had to hold my breath for three minutes and pretend to be dead. I was drowsy enough that I couldn’t fight her off. And I was lucky enough that the drugs slowed my heart rate and weakened my pulse. In her distraught state, she was sloppy when checking if I was truly dead.
After she left, I assumed she would go straight to the airport. So I stumbled out of the hotel and caught a cab to her apartment. The detective in me needed evidence. I needed to know where she was going so that when the drugs wore off, I could find her and make her pay. I didn’t expect to walk into her apartment and hear her sobbing in the shower.
I almost walked into the bathroom and told her I’d forgiven her, but I kept imagining my fingers wrapped tightly around her throat. I knew I had to leave before I did something I would regret later.
Searching her apartment, I found a laptop under her bed with all her flight information. I emailed the itinerary to myself and wiped her hard drive. Then I went through her trash and found the fruit that I had given her. It was just too tempting not to put it back in the fridge to send a message.
I’m convinced Alex knows I’m still alive. In a sick way, Alex needs me as an adversary as much as she needs my cock inside her. As the Americans say, she wants her cake and eat it too.
Well, I am more than ready to give Alex the whole fucking cake, and the cock. But first, I need to make her pay for almost killing me. She’s young. She has many lessons to learn. And I’m going to have a lot of fun being her teacher.