Page 13 of Awake in Cheshire Bay

The Pacific Ocean surrounded us, cliffs on either side a hundred feet up above sea level. As the path followed out to the horizon, the heights of the embankments rose and fell, dropping to a modest twenty feet high out by the lighthouse. Waves crashed against the rocky outcropping, an indication to me at least, how a storm was brewing off in the distance, and the salty air had a cool taste to it.

The breeze blew across my body, and I shuddered involuntarily.

Before I could protest, Antonio had shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. When he gently pulled my hair up and over the collar, the skin at the nape of my neck tingled. Did guys like this really exist? Was I dreaming?

“Thank you.” My breath barely rolled out of me.

He surveyed the scenery. “This view, it is majestic.”

My smile grew in strength. “Yeah, that’s the perfect word.”

There was a bench nearby and I pointed to it, as I needed a place to sit. My foolish legs were turning into wet noodles.

“Care to sit?”

He waited until I sat before he joined me. “Thank you for showing me.”

“My pleasure.”

I leaned against the back rest and gazed over at Antonio. His face was as relaxed as his posture. It was a pleasant change from the stiff form he’d be presenting since I met him.

“Do you have anything like this where you come from?”

“No.”

I leaned a bit closer and as I did, I inhaled a spicy scent lingering on the jacket. “I can’t place your accent. Where are you from?”

“It is not relevant. I here only for little time.”

Was it Russian? His grasp of English was damn decent, but there was just something about his voice and inflections that highlighted how much of a foreigner he was.

His attention fell away from the breathtaking seaside view and instead settled over me. “You are very beautiful woman.”

“Oh, stop.” Despite my protest, a blush crept over my chest.

How many other women had he said that to? Probably oodles, and I was sure they all fell at his feet because how could you not? I was fighting my own urges to resist him, and I was typically good at rejecting men. Very good.

“I speak truth.”

“Well, you flatter me, thank you.” My chest swelled and a content feeling spread through me.

He reached for my hand, lifted it, and planted a kiss across my knuckles. “My perfect day because of you.”

The phone inside his jacket pocket rang, and I jumped from the vibration as I was wearing it.

He pulled back the lapel. “May I?”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

He was being a perfect gentleman as he opened the jacket as much as possible without taking it off and reached into the depth of the breast pocket. An involuntary groan rolled out of me as his hand inadvertently grazed my breast, and I wished the ground would open and swallow me whole.

“Ja.” Antonio answered, rising, and walking out to towards the seaside path.

Once again, he spoke in his foreign tongue, the words low and throaty. This call was quicker and before I had too much time to allow my thoughts to drift away, he eclipsed my view.

“My crew at hotel.”

It was a motel, but I wasn’t about to correct him, he’d find out soon enough the stark contrasts between the two.