The invitation had been delivered not with words, but with a single, perfect blossom left on the stone step of her cottage. It was a flower Ina had never seen before, its petals a impossible gradient from the deep sapphire of the midnight sea to the pale, luminous turquoise of a shallow lagoon. It smelled of salt, sunshine, and something wilder, something like the air after a lightning strike. Tucked within its center was a small, smooth piece of sea glass, worn to the texture of silk. It was a map, an instinctual one. She knew, with a certainty that bypassed logic, that he was asking her to meet him at the cove beneath the old abandoned monastery on the far side of the island.
Her heart had been a frantic drum against her ribs all morning. She'd packed a small basket with reckless abandon—a loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, a bottle of local Pošip wine, a blanket. She'd put on her simple, navy blue bikini under her sundress, her hands trembling as she tied the strings. The memory of his touch, his gaze, his voice, was a constant, humming undercurrent in her blood. She was terrified. She was exhilarated. She was stepping off the edge of the world she knew, and the only thing that felt solid was the terrifying, magnetic pull towards him.
The path to the cove was steep and rugged, winding through dense macchia shrubs that released a peppery, herbal scent as she brushed past them. Pine trees clung precariously to the cliffs, their roots like gnarled fingers gripping the rock. The only sounds were the scuff of her sandals on stone, the frantic beat of her own heart, and the ever-present sigh of the sea below.
And then, she saw it. The cove.
It was a perfect, hidden crescent of white pebbles, cupped by towering cliffs of golden stone. The water was so clear it was virtually invisible, revealing a seabed of smooth, pale rocks that made the sea glow with an unearthly, greenish light. It was a place out of time, a secret the island had kept for itself.
And he was there.
Juraj stood at the water's edge, his back to her, looking out to sea. He was barefoot, wearing only a pair of simple, dark linen trousers rolled up to his knees. The sun gleamed on the powerful muscles of his back and shoulders, on his dark, unruly hair. He seemed as much a part of the landscape as the cliffs themselves, an ancient statue brought to life.
He turned as she approached, his soil-dark eyes finding hers instantly. That now-familiar silence descended, the world narrowing to this cove, this man.
"You came," he said, and his voice was a low thrum of pleasure that vibrated in the air between them.
"You knew I would," she replied, her own voice breathless.
A slow, devastating smile spread across his face. "I hoped."
He took the basket from her, his fingers brushing against hers, another one of those warm, electric shocks. He set it down on the pebbles and then his gaze swept over her, from her wind-tousled hair down to her bare toes. It was the same consuming look from the shop and the market, but here, in this secluded paradise, it felt more intimate, more dangerous. His eyes lingered on the strip of tanned skin between her bikini top and the waist of her skirt, and she felt her skin flush under his attention.
"The water calls," he said, his eyes glinting with a playful challenge. He held out his hand.
Her shyness warred with a sudden, fierce longing to be in that luminous water with him. The longing won. She slipped her hand into his. His grip was strong, warm, sure. He led her to the water's edge.
The Adriatic was usually bracingly cool, even in high summer. But as Ina stepped in, she gasped. The water was warm. Not the mild warmth of a sun-heated surface, but a deep, pervasive, bath-like warmth that enveloped her ankles, then her calves, then her thighs as she waded deeper. It was unnatural. Impossible. It was as if a hot spring had welled up from the very heart of the sea, contained solely within this hidden cove.
She looked at Juraj, her eyes wide with question.
He simply smiled, a secret, knowing smile. "The sea remembers its creator," he said, his voice a soft rumble. "It offers its comfort."
He released her hand and dove forward, his body cutting through the water with a powerful, graceful ease. He surfaced a few meters away, shaking the water from his hair like a sea lion, the droplets catching the light like diamonds. "Come, Ina."
She pushed off, the warm water a sensual embrace against her skin. She swam towards him, the world reduced to the feel of the water, the sound of her own breathing, and the sight of him waiting for her. When she reached him, she was dizzy, not from the swim, but from the sheer, unbelievable happiness of it all. The secluded cove, the impossibly warm water, this impossibly magnetic man. It was a dream from which she never wanted to wake.
And then, the sea began to bloom.
It started around her feet. Delicate, star-shaped flowers, the color of the moon, pushed up from between the smooth pebbles on the seabed. They unfurled their petals, releasing a soft, sweet fragrance that mixed with the salt air. Then, vines of a deep, emerald green, studded with tiny, glowing blue buds, spiraled up from the depths, wrapping gently around her legs, not to bind her, but to caress her. The buds opened into flowers that looked like underwater lilies, their centers shimmering with a soft, bioluminescent light.
She stopped swimming, treading water in the center of this sudden, impossible garden. She looked down, then at Juraj, her mouth agape in pure, unadulterated wonder. "How…?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
He swam closer, until they were mere inches apart. The water around them was now a tapestry of living color, a submerged Eden that had sprung to life at his command. His dark eyes were soft, full of a tenderness that made her heart ache.
"You tend your garden of lavender," he said, his voice hushed, intimate. "This is my garden. And it has been waiting for you."
He reached out and tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear, his knuckles brushing her cheek. The touch was electric, sending shivers down her spine that had nothing to do with the water. The scent of the blooming sea flowers, the warmth of the water, the sheer, overwhelming magic of the moment—it all coalesced into a wave of feeling so powerful it swept away her last shred of hesitation.
She moved forward, closing the small distance between them. She lifted her hand, placing it on his chest, feeling the solid, steady, and surprisingly rapid beat of his heart beneath her palm. She saw his eyes darken with a fierce, joyful shock.
"Ina," he breathed, her name a prayer.
Rising up in the water, she pressed her lips to his.
It was not a timid kiss. It was a surrender. It was an answer to a question her soul had been asking since the moment he walked into her shop. His lips were firm and warm, and they tasted of the sea and of something ancient and wild. He responded instantly, his arms coming around her, pulling her flush against his hard, wet body. The kiss deepened, becoming a slow, exploring dance of tongues and shared breath. It was a kiss that felt like the beginning of everything, a primal, life-giving force as potent as the first sunrise. The water, the flowers, the very air seemed to pulse in rhythm with it.
When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless. Ina was trembling, her body alight with a thousand new sensations. His eyes were blazing with a light that was both divine and utterly, passionately human.
"Moja ljubavi," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. My love.
His hands, which had been resting on the small of her back, began to move. One slid up her spine, tangling in her wet hair, pulling her gently back for another, hungrier kiss. The other hand drifted lower, cupping her hip, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin there. The warmth of his touch through the thin fabric of her bikini bottom was a brand.
Then, his hand moved upward, over her ribcage, his touch both reverent and possessive. He slowly, deliberately, palmed her breast through the damp fabric of her bikini top. A bolt of pure, white-hot pleasure shot through her, so intense it was almost painful. She gasped against his mouth, her back arching instinctively into his touch.
He broke the kiss, his dark eyes searching hers, asking a silent question. His fingers found the tie of her bikini bra at the back, a simple bow. He didn't pull it; he just held the ends, his intention clear. He wanted to feel her skin, to worship her with his hands.
The desire was a roaring fire in her blood. She wanted it too. She wanted to feel his hands on her, to know the full weight of his passion. But a lifetime of shyness, of guarding her heart and her body, rose up in that moment. A cold spike of fear pierced the warm haze of her desire.
As his fingers began to gently tug the bow loose, the words tumbled out of her, a soft, terrified, shame-filled whisper.
"I… I… I am a virgin, Juraj."
The words hung in the air between them, as fragile and consequential as a soap bubble.
His hands stilled instantly.
The change in him was immediate and profound. The fierce, possessive passion in his eyes did not vanish, but it was banked, transformed. The raw hunger was replaced by a look of such staggering tenderness and protectiveness that it stole her breath all over again. He didn't pull away in disappointment. He didn't scoff or laugh. He looked at her as if she had just handed him the most precious, fragile secret in the world.
Slowly, carefully, he retied the bow of her bikini, his movements deliberate and respectful. He then brought both of his hands to cradle her face, his thumbs stroking her wet cheeks.
"Ina," he said, his voice so soft it was almost carried away by the sea breeze. "Do not be afraid. This is not a thing to be whispered with shame. It is a sacred trust."
Tears welled in her eyes, born of relief, of confusion, of the overwhelming intensity of his understanding.
"I've just… never…" she stammered, her cheeks burning. "I've never felt… enough. For anyone. To want to…"
"Enough?" he breathed, his eyes widening in genuine astonishment. He looked around them, at the blooming sea, at the warm water, at the sun-drenched cliffs, and then back at her, his gaze so full of fervent adoration it was like being bathed in light. "Ina, you are everything. You are the reason the soil remembers how to be fertile. You are the echo of the first spring. That you have waited, that you have guarded this gift… it makes you more precious to me than all the stars in the sky."
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, a kiss of such profound reverence it felt like a blessing.
"We have eternity," he whispered against her skin. "There is no hurry. This…" he gestured to the water, the flowers, the space between their bodies, "…this is enough. You are enough. You are more than enough."
He took her hand and simply held it, their fingers laced together, floating in the warm, flower-filled water. The frantic, sexual energy had been replaced by something deeper, more solid. A profound intimacy. He had seen her fear, her vulnerability, and instead of exploiting it, he had cherished it.
In that moment, any last barrier in her heart crumbled to dust. The shy, uncertain woman was still there, but she was now embraced, protected, and adored by a force of nature. He had not been deterred by her confession; he had been consecrated by it.
She laid her head on his shoulder, and they drifted together in the impossible cove, the sea flowers brushing against their skin like benevolent spirits. She had offered him her truth, her deepest insecurity, and he had treated it not as a flaw, but as a treasure. And Ina knew, with a certainty that went beyond the physical, that she was lost to him completely. He was no longer just a mysterious, handsome stranger. He was Juraj. And she was his.