Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110351 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110351 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
As he looks back out ahead, he keeps one hand on the steering wheel whilst the other reaches out for mine. His chiselled jaw is set, green eyes focused on the road ahead, but there’s that soft, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he raises my hand to his face and presses a quick kiss against the back of it.
His smile tells me everything I need to know. No words are necessary - not right now. I feel the connection between us: strong, steady and sure.
For the first time in what feels like ages, I let go of the little voice in my head that’s always questioning, always doubting. In this moment, there are no concerns about the future, no worries about what others might think or what might come next.
We’re in our own little bubble, and nothing else matters.
Totally relaxed, I lean back against the plush seat, letting the rhythm of the drive soothe me. I turn my head to the side and look over at him again, my gaze lingering on the way the light from the dashboard highlights the contours of his face, the strong set of his features, the fire in his eyes.
He’s completely in his element - seemingly confident and calm - but there’s something else there too. Something I can’t quite place, but that makes my heart race.
“What’s the surprise?” I ask, my voice light but laced with curiosity, hoping he’ll finally break and tell me.
Santi smirks, his eyes flicking to me for a split second before he focuses back on the road.
“Be patient, my love,” he says, his voice low and full of mystery. “Trust me, it’s going to be worth the wait.”
The miles slip away, and soon we’re driving through impossibly quieter roads, the landscape changing around us. The glow of the city is replaced by the peaceful beauty of the Spanish countryside as the stars above twinkle faintly. The air feels cooler, more serene, and I roll my window fully to a close as my eyelids begin to feel heavy.
There’s something almost magical about this, though. Something that makes me want to hold on to this feeling forever.
I lean my head against the closed window, allowing my eyes to fall shut only for a moment. I sink further back into my seat and allow myself to really, truly relax, allowing the night and the journey to take me wherever it will.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
My eyes flutter open slowly, and the unfamiliarity of the space makes me blink in confusion.
I’m lying on a large, comfortable bed, the sheets cool against my skin. There’s a window open, and the incoming draft of air smells faintly of lavender. Somewhere in the distance, I can hear the faint sound of waves crashing and gulls squawking above.
I sit up with a start, not recognising any of my surroundings. I try to recall the events of last night, but I draw a blank after falling asleep on the journey.
It dawns on me then. Santi. He must have carried me in from his car.
I look around, the room coming into sharper focus. It's warm and inviting with light streaming in from an outside balcony. It’s furnished in a way that is traditionally Spanish, with a comfortable looking armchair in one corner, a dark oak dressing table perched by the bed and a small side table with a pitcher of water and two glasses.
But no sign of Santi.
I rub my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. I didn’t mean to fall asleep for so long - it was just supposed to be a quick power-nap. It must’ve been a combination of the easy, peaceful drive, the exhaustion from the last few weeks and the calming atmosphere of the towns we passed through. The moment I closed my eyes, it all caught up to me.
I slide out of the bed and step over to the balcony doors, pulling them open to let the morning air wash over me.
The view from outside is incredible. Blue skies stretch endlessly to the sea that doesn’t look too far. The water appears calm, reflecting the first light of day.
After spending a few minutes basking in the warmth of the rising sun, I turn to look back at the room, wondering where Santi could be. I pad back inside and am just about to sit back down on the bed when I hear the soft creak of the door behind me.
There he is, standing in the doorway with a warm, familiar smile playing at the corner of his lips.
“Good morning,” he says.
His voice is low and gentle, as though he’s trying not to disturb the calm of the moment.
“Morning,” I reply, feeling a little disoriented but mostly at peace. “How long have I been asleep?”
He shrugs casually as he walks into the room, his presence filling it completely. “It doesn’t matter. You clearly needed the rest.”