Asylum

Chapter 28: Swimming with Sharks

I felt his smile more than saw it. "Good," he said, "but pretend that you're a little reluctant. It will help cement the impression that I'm a controlling ass if they see me making you do something you don't want to do."

I gave a barely perceptible nod and stiffened, pulling away from him as much as the railing would allow. His hand clamped down on my forearm, and he pulled me after him, towards the stern of the boat, away from where Emilio was still molesting Lucia. I ignored that sickening performance to concentrate on my own, following after Ivan with what I hoped was a visible combination of reluctance and resignation.

Ivan swung onto the ladder and quickly lowered himself from the main deck, dropping the last several feet to splash into the water. I grinned. I didn't often see the boyish side of him; I wouldn't have expected to see it on this boat, of all places. I hesitated theatrically and gripped the side rails of the ladder, averted my eyes from the spot where I last saw Emilio, and climbed down into the deep blue waters of the Atlantic.

The water was a shock, much colder than I'd anticipated. After dipping that first toe in to test the waters, I forced myself to drop off the ladder rather than ease my way in, and the icy grip of the water was almost enough to force the breath from my lungs. I surfaced with a gasp, and felt Ivan's fingers take my own and pull me farther away from the yacht and the monster who owned it.

"Let's get a little distance," he suggested, casting a wary eye along the nearly empty decks.

"Okay," I agreed quickly. "Race you to ..." I looked about, but there was nothing but El Dragón Marino in any direction. "Never mind," I concluded, and struck out in a strong crawl.

I was a reasonably strong swimmer, but it was soon obvious that Ivan was the real athlete. He quickly outdistanced me, his tanned arms flashing in the late afternoon sun. He was probably twenty yards ahead of me when his water-slicked head suddenly vanished beneath the waves.

I continued swimming a few more strokes, but when he didn't reappear, I stopped to tread water. Where was he? I scanned the horizon in every direction, spinning jerkily in place, but saw nothing but the boat, bobbing like a child's bath toy in the distance. No Ivan, but no conspicuous circling shark fins either, I reassured myself. But while I was reasonably sure that large sharks didn't swim this far south, I was not a marine biologist or ichthyologist or whatever kind of -ist studied sharks, and didn't they dive anyway after grabbing their prey?

Suddenly, Ivan's hands were on my waist as he broke the surface behind me. "Jesus," I hissed. "You scared the shit out of me!"

He floated around to face me, all smiles. "Did you think I'd been eaten by a shark?"

"No," I lied quickly.

His smile widened, and he planted a quick peck on my pouting lips. "Don't worry, there shouldn't be any dangerous sharks this far south," he reassured me. He looked at the deceptively empty waters around us. "Don't quote me on that, of course; I'm not actually a selachologist."

I suddenly felt warm all the way to my toes; he was so obviously the perfect man for me. "Where did you learn that word?"

"Shark Week."

"You watch Shark Week?" I asked skeptically.

"I keep odd hours, which sometimes messes with my sleep patterns. But a good nature documentary will usually knock me out within 30 minutes."

"And enrich your vocabulary until it does."

"A definite bonus," he agreed. He turned to look back at the yacht. "I think we're far enough away," he decided, and pulled me into a tight embrace, his lips descending to possess mine.

I wrapped myself around him and returned all his lusty passion. I felt his hands glide up my back, and suddenly my bandeau top was unhooked and slipping out from between us, leaving my bared breasts pressing against his hard chest.

"Much better," he murmured against my mouth before deepening the kiss.

I lost myself for a moment before forcing myself to break away for air. "Just don't lose that," I warned him. "I don't particularly relish the thought of scrambling back onto that boat topless."

Ivan shifted his grip on me and fumbled at my hip for a second, tucking and pulling the strip of bikini top through the side of my bottoms. I smiled again. "That should do it," I said happily, and returned my attention to his wicked mouth.

His tongue danced with mine, insistently probing and stroking as his hands did the same – along my lean thigh, under my taut ass, up my back and neck and into my hair. He broke the kiss to trace his lips and tongue across my jaw, down my glistening throat, along my shoulders where they barely breached the surface, and when he was thwarted from going further, he lifted me under my arms, bending me back so that my head floated on the dark water and my breasts jutted up to the sky, taking each puckered nipple into his warm mouth with a strong pull before sliding me back under the water, gliding my skin along his tongue and body until we were, once again, face to face.

We remained like that for the space of several breaths – foreheads pressed together, arms wrapped about each other, my legs around Ivan's lean waist as his powerful legs lazily scissored to keep us both afloat.

"Much better," he repeated. His brow furrowed in the briefest of frowns before he kissed my closed eyes. "Sometimes I feel like I can't breathe when I'm around him."

"He's awful," I agreed. "I know you tried to prepare me, but he just ... makes my soul cringe. I don't know how we're going to get through another 18 hours on that floating hell."

"Fortunately, we'll be blissfully asleep for several of them, and hopefully, alone in our cabin focusing only on each other for a few more. After all, I brought all those toys ..." He laughed at the expression on my face and kissed me again.

"Still," I said when we paused for a breath. "That man is a monster."

Ivan pulled back his head a bit so he could look me fully in the eyes. "Did he do or say something to you? I thought I had been watching you the entire time we've been on board."

I hesitated, my lips already parted to tell him about the scene on deck with Emilio and Lucia, but then I thought the better of it. Much as I hated keeping something from Ivan – or rather, yet another something – I suspected that he would be beyond enraged by Emilio's psychological assault on me, and I knew that he needed to focus and keep a cool head in his dealings with the drug lord. "I just don't like the way he looks at me," I hedged, doling out some of the truth, if not the whole truth. "And I hate the way he treats the other women."

"I know," he replied. I thought he was going to say something else, but he just shook his head, almost imperceptibly. "I'm sorry."

I kissed him softly. "But I'm still glad I came," I assured him and kissed him again. "I would be out of my mind if you'd left me back at the guest house, or worse, stuck in New York."

He laughed softly. "да (Yes), and I would be too anxious to get back to you to concentrate on that psychopath. Someday ..." he began, but stopped himself again, speaking the unvoiced promise in the form of another heart-melting kiss.

I felt us sink slightly, the chill water lapping my chin before Ivan renewed the pace of his kicking and brought our heads back up again.

"Much as I might wish it, I don't think that you can keep us afloat out here forever," I said regretfully.

His mouth lifted at the corner in the hint of a smile. "No, probably not. We should be headed back, anyway. We'll have a little time to shower and change, and then we're expected to join Emilio for dinner and drinks."

I sighed. "I never thought I'd be dreading a sunset dinner and cocktails on a private yacht with a devastatingly handsome man."

"You'd better be referring to me," Ivan teased.

I shuddered. "Definitely." I pulled on the back of his neck and kissed him fiercely. "One last one before we have to assume our master/slave roles."

"Maybe two," he suggested, and kissed me until I was breathless. "Come on, we've got to go. Best not to keep the hungry beast waiting."