The scar seemed more stark against her skin now that I knew the reason for it. As her skin turned richer from the increased sunshine, the paler, raised skin never changed.
She froze in place, her attention catching on me sitting in one of the chairs on the terrace. The chess board sat on the table between the chairs, and she squinted her eyes as she stared at it. Finishing drying her hair, she turned back into the bedroom to hang the towel in the bathroom before coming out more cautiously the second time.
"Have you ever played chess, mi princesa?" I asked, waving a hand to indicate she should sit in the chair opposite me. She shook her head as she lowered herself into it gracefully, crossing her legs as she leaned an elbow on her knee and looked at the board.
"I don't think I'd ever even seen a chessboard in person before coming here," she said, studying the pieces. She picked up a white pawn, turning the smooth marble in her hand as she ran delicate fingers over it.
The piece belonged in her hand.
"Chess can teach us a lot about life," I told her, taking the pawn and setting it back into its place on the board. "Every piece can move in a particular way," I said. I guided her through all the individual pieces and the ways they could move while she listened with rapt fascination.
Isa often downplayed just how intelligent she was, hiding behind her books and charitable work at the Menominee community center. She seemed to struggle with the difference between herself and Odina, never allowing herself to truly excel. Hugo said he'd seen her diminish her mind frequently, sometimes going so far as to forget about an assignment so she wouldn't have a perfect grade. He'd watched her circle the correct answer on a test and then change it when she was finished.
But within her lurked a mind I suspected would rival the smartest men in my organization. If only she existed in a life that encouraged her to own it, rather than act like it was something shameful.
"This is the Queen," I said, holding out the piece for her to wrap her fingers around. She took it, tilting her head as she studied it and ran her thumb over the crown at the top. "She's the most powerful piece."
"Not the King?" she asked, righting her head as she met my eyes.
"The game is over when the King is dead. But without a Queen, it never truly begins," I said softly, watching as she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "She can perform the most moves on the board. The Queen protects her King, no matter the cost."
She reached out a hand and grabbed the King, running her other thumb over the cross like she had the crown on the Queen. "This is probably the only game in existence where men gave a feminine symbol all the power," she said with a huff of laughter.
I grinned back at her, nodding my head. "You're probably right."
She placed the pieces back on the board. "The King controls the board, but the Queen is what gives him that power," she said, her voice dropping as she accepted the fact that she understood the basic premise.
"Exactly," I said. "Your move."
She widened her eyes at me, pursing her lips and looking down at the board. She moved a pawn, watching as I moved my own. The first pawn I moved had a tiny fissure on the top, a crack I only noticed when my palm brushed against it. I was too preoccupied with watching her to look down at the board, with observing her eyes as they flitted around the pieces and studied the game. She thought everything through, observed all the pieces as she bit her lip in concentration.
One day, she'd be a force to be reckoned with. Both on and off the board.
But today was not that day.
22
Isa
I pouted playfully as Rafe guided me up the steps to the private rooftop terrace we had to ourselves. I'd known about it, but never had the opportunity or need to utilize it. It was foolish to think that I'd ever be able to beat Rafe at chess given the limited time I had to try, but the competitive part of me that didn't often get the opportunity to rear its head wanted nothing more than to prove him wrong.
Even knowing chess was something that took people years to master.
Rafael pushed open the doors to the rooftop, bathing us in the dim lighting from the stars above. Music pulsed below us as people enjoyed the music by the pool. But none of the buildings around us were near as tall as our hotel, and it gave us the illusion of privacy. Even if people danced below us. Even if they swam in the pool or frolicked on the beach.
We were alone in our own little world as Rafe drew the cover back from the hot tub and turned on the jets. He stripped his shorts down his legs without preamble, stepping into the hot tub entirely naked and relaxing against the back of it as he closed his eyes. Opening them and glancing at me out of the corner, he crooked a finger for me to join him.
"Don't you ever get tired of being in the water?" I teased in reference to our expedition the day before and the way he'd traumatized me.
"The water is part of life on an island," he said, watching with darkening eyes as I shoved my shorts down my legs and tugged my shirt over my head. Making the walk toward the hot tub with his eyes on my body would have terrified me only a few days prior, but there wasn't a corner of my body he hadn't explored.
His tour of the Ibiza he loved involved a bunch of tours of
