The adrenaline had kept him upright far longer than he should have been able to manage. While danger surrounded them, while fear and desire tangled in his veins, his body had obeyed sheer will alone.
But now that the threat had passed, now that the rush was fading, the wound he'd ignored began to claim its due.
His pulse spiked erratically, forcing blood through the grazed injury he'd sealed off by nothing more than stubborn resolve.
Once his body finally started to calm, it gave in slowly, mercilessly to the damage he had refused to acknowledge.
She heard him coughing for some seconds, relaxing a bit by breathing heavily, while he lay on the pool's surface.
She knelt down by his side, rubbing his hair tenderly, careful, her fingers tracing his damp strands as if to soothe more than just the body.
Her mind raced. "How… how do I get him to the roadside?" she whispered to herself, worry seeping through her voice. 'supporting him with my wound, while he's also injured… to hail a cab, then the hospital?' Won't we fall before we even get there?
She didn't realize she'd spoken aloud until he smiled—a small, dangerous curve of his lips.
Then she spoke her thought softly again, "I wonder why my handsome stranger is smiling," and then it dawned on her—she had repeated her thoughts aloud what she did a while ago.
That's why he was smiling. Gosh! She covered her mouth with her palms, blushing crimson.
"So am I handsome in your terms?" He raised his brow, trying to hide his smile now.
"No… I mean ye… s… That's not how I meant it…" She rushed forward to defend the words that spilled from her mouth, nervousness racing through her body.
He leaned close, teasingly. "So I'm not handsome?" His voice wrapped around her like silk and steel.
He loved the way her words faltered, how her blush spread like wildfire across her cheeks.
It was just too cute, in his opinion.
"Am I still a stranger?!" He paused, letting her begin to answer.
Torn between words and silence.
She opened her mouth
"No… that's not…" she started, but was cut off ruefully by his soft words.
"Really?! I thought for us to get to this point, we have established some things between us…" He spoke softly, turning his head towards her, his silvery eyes meeting her gaze. Her perfect pink lips widened in surprise, like she wanted to say something.
"Like I could convince you we have established some things—physically and emotionally." Licking his lips.
A beautiful smile filled with dangerous promises accentuated his features even more. Every muscle of his body exuded allure.
Drawing his body nearer to where she knelt, he leaned closer, voice dropping.
"You don't know what you do to me when you blush like that."
He was about to render her blushing more, hypnotized by his sweet talk, when he noticed she was kneeling, her soft knees pressed on the particles of sand.
His expression darkened.
"What the hell," he mouthed, growling deeply. "Why are you kneeling? You know I don't like that."
His voice dropped, rough with retrained anger. "I don't want to see even just blisters on your skin..."
He glanced sharply at the ground. His voice a pained whisper. "God knows! If there's broken glass or sharp broken objects on the ground."
"I'm sorry, I… I don't mean to put myself in harm's way." And damn, she was still kneeling.
He stared at her for a second, giving her a deadly look by raising his eyebrows and tugging his lips in a smirk.
"It's just… I… want to get closer to you, and I can't see you properly if I stay too far." She completed her statement softly.
When she noticed the expression on his face relax a bit, a smile played on his lips.
'I think he loved what I said', she registered in her mind, exhaling a breath of relief that she had eased his worries.
He was… dangerous when angry. His anger was a fire she hadn't often seen—sensually hot, intense, and consuming. It was something she wasn't accustomed to, except in a few circumstances.
She desperately didn't want to strike a nerve. Only God knew what would happen if she did.
It might be sensually hot or something darker from what she'd seen when he was angry with her.
Except she knew for a fact, he didn't have negative anger; he never harmed a woman.
Still, his expression held a trace of sadness. Lowering his voice. He exhaled, breath strained.
"Love," he whispered, "it kills me that you're stressing yourself because of me."
Every word he spoke took a lot of effort to breathe.
"Either by kneeling down to hear me speak and be closer to me or tending to my wounds." He paused, watching her emotions, carefully chosing his words. Fearing her tears.
Pain flickered across his face. "It cuts deeper than the pain in my chest".
If he were well, he'd be holding her, brushing tendrils of silky hair from her face as he spoke.
He weighed the next words, leaving them hanging in the air. Should I tell her or not? Wanting to be honest to her.
"I felt a sharp pain in my heart not once but thrice. Not knowing particles of the bullet on my scar had turned it into a bloody wound."
She sniffled twice, holding back tears.
And when she spoke, her voice choked, "Why didn't you tell me you were injured?"
Tears clouded her eyes, still sniffling, as she entwined her bloodstained hands with his. "Do you know how scared I was?" Her grip tightened, tears spilling freely now.
"Love… love," his voice barely a whisper, filled with tenderness rapidly spilling from his mouth to pacify her rage-filled mind, filled with questions.
He breathed heavily, mumering.
Each word a struggle against both pain and guilt.
"I'm sorry. When I noticed it, I didn't tell you! I just thought it was an injury from when we fell off the cliff."
He paused to take deeper breaths.
"I didn't know it was going to be this serious. I'm sorry. I never meant to scare you."
Silence stretched between them.
Gazing intensely at her and tightening their hold more, his baritone voice razed deeply in her veins as he asked the same question for the fourth time:
"Do you.. do you trust me, love?"
Really, THE FOURTH TIME!!
Yup! She could count each word, each syllable, every confession he had whispered since she first saw her knight in shining armor, her hot handsome stranger.
Because every word he said stayed not just in her memory but deeply in her heart too.
Her lips curved in a soft, shy smile, fully framing her beautiful reddened cheeks. Tears slid down, but joy lit her eyes.
No longer kneeling—because if eyes could kill, his would have if he noticed she was still kneeling.
She sat, holding his hands, shaking slightly. He fought to steady them as he brushed away her tears, though the pain in his own wound made his fingers tremble, making it unbearable to stretch his hand further. His hands shook a meter apart from her face.
"Yes," Celina whispered, voice cracked. "I trust you… but I'm scared something will happen if we don't get help soon."
Breathing heavily, her heart raced down her spine. Shock spread through her nerves.
"I can't even begin to comprehend what could happen to you," the tears drooled down her cheeks again, repeatedly. "I don't know what to do." Her hands trembled in recognition of her heart twitching in pain at their bleak situation.
"I have a Jeep parked somewhere in this place." His eyes softened as he spoke, noticing how her face lit up hearing the news.
He didn't like when she was crying—it tugged at his heart in sharp pain.
"I think, just a meter away."
Celina sighed heavily in relief, the tears glistening in her eyes shining brightly, but held at bay.
With a wide smile, she cupped his face, happiness radiating from her reddened cheeks and pink lips visible. The sight sparked something low and unbidden in him.
Her tiny, melodious voice rang in his ears: "What are we waiting for?" Laughing, teeth sparkling under the moonlight, enticing him to grin.
A rush of heat surged, his imagination spinning whenever she was close.
As always, she was utterly appealing.
"I'm so happy nothing bad would happen to you. Δόξα τω Θεώ! (Glory to God)." The Greek words rolled from her lips, sensual and sweet; and his insides warmed at the melody of her accent.