Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99700 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
She wasn’t asleep long, though, before the plane hit a bit of turbulence, making her eyes shoot open. To find she’d curled into Victor in her sleep. Her head was on his strong shoulder, his heartbeat a steady thud against her ear.
Up that close, she could hear the whoosh of the blood in his veins again, could feel her fangs lengthening with how close she was to his neck.
“This does not bode well for my future career in lecturing if my voice puts you right to sleep,” Victor said, voice soft, his breath rustling her hair.
“I haven’t had someone read to me in a really long time,” Pandora said, not moving. Not yet. “It was very soothing. And mixed with the smooth ride …”
“Speaking of, I think we know our location.” Victor nodded toward the windows directly across from them.
Curiosity piqued, Pandora reluctantly moved away from Victor to look out the window.
And as she did, she felt her belly knot up.
In the distance, she could see rugged peaks standing in contrast to the rolling hills dotted with olive groves and villages.
The coastline sparkled to the north, turquoise waters meeting golden beaches.
There weren’t many places in the world with water like she was seeing.
This was clearly the Mediterranean.
And that village full of blue-washed buildings?
That could only be one place.
Chefchaouen.
The Blue Pearl of Morocco.
Ambrosia had sent them to Morocco.
“Ma’am?” Mikhail interrupted her thoughts, making her turn. “Your gran—”
“Ambrosia,” Pandora cut him off.
“Yes, Ambrosia wanted me to give you this,” he said, passing her a small envelope.
Ignoring the sloshing sensation in her stomach, she tore it open, finding a small card inside. Within the card, just a simple message from her great-great-grandmother.
You need to see how incompatible you are with a human.
Enjoy the next three days with your betrothed.
In the unyielding sun.
25
“Morocco, wow,” Victor said as they watched a car pull down the airstrip, as if waiting for them.
As Pandora tried not to panic.
Three days in sunny Morocco.
No trusty London fog or rain to make it easier for her to move around without worrying about burning or incinerating.
What the hell was she going to do?
Even as the thought formed, though, she remembered the visit from her brother right before she’d left. The large tube he’d given her. The same tube she’d stuffed into her bag before zipping it up.
She had the vampire sunscreen.
So while she hadn’t had room to pack a parasol, she could slather herself in the sunscreen, wear long layers for her “circulation issues” and wear her big, wide-brimmed hat.
It would be OK.
“Just give me one second,” Pandora said as the jet stopped and Mikhail opened the door. “I want to freshen up.” She grabbed her bag and rushed into the tiny bathroom.
Alone, she grabbed the tube of sunscreen, then started to slather it across her face, neck, hands, and the portion of her arms that could possibly peek out from beneath her shirtsleeves.
She had a bit of a white cast on her skin, but, hey, Victor already thought she was prone to sunburn, so he would understand her putting on some thick sunscreen.
Satisfied, she dug around for her hat, stuck it on, then made her way back out to meet Victor.
To be fair, Ambrosia had a point. She’d never considered the idea of having to leave London with Victor, that they might happen to go to places in the world where she wouldn’t have the same protections she did in London.
That said, it wasn’t a real relationship. She didn’t have to travel with Victor if she didn’t want to. In fact, they were both going to be too busy to travel for the year of their arrangement. She would be busy building her bookshop. He would be working on his thesis and getting a job once he graduated.
So this challenge was just a little hiccup in their plans. It wasn’t going to be the lesson Ambrosia was trying to teach her.
“Ready?” Victor asked. “Mikhail said the car should take us to our accommodation. And there will be everything we need there.”
“Brilliant,” Pandora said, ignoring the pit in her stomach as they started to move out into the sunshine.
They stopped inside the airport, per instructions, to exchange their pounds for dirham, then slid into the sleek black car with heavily tinted windows, allowing Pandora to breathe a sigh of relief.
Victor rolled down the car window, letting in the salty sea air as they drove closer to the blue-washed buildings. Pandora could make out the vibrant life of the medina. Shopkeepers stood near displays of their colourful textiles, local crafts, and leather goods.
“Have you ever been?” Pandora asked, watching Victor as he took in the sights.
“No. It’s stunning, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Pandora wasn’t sure if she was speaking of Morocco or of Victor himself.
The car dropped them off at the bottom of a seemingly never-ending staircase, each step and the walls on the sides all painted in hues of blue.