Chapter 151 A Love That Burned Bright

The water was on fire as the sun dipped beyond the horizon, causing Santorini to bleed gold. Whispering salt-kissed whispers from the Aegean, the wind twisted about the whitewashed pillars of the home. Bronzed from days in the Mediterranean heat, Silas reclined on the stone balcony with his shirt unbuttoned and sleeves pulled up to his forearms. He turned, wine glass in hand, and watched her, his back muscles flexing. Genevieve stood barefoot at the edge of the pool, the hem of her silk robe brushing her thighs. The fabric clung to her, damp from a quick swim. Her curls were loose, untamed by salt and breeze, her skin glowing in the dusk light. She looked like something out of a Grecian myth, dangerous, divine, untouchable.