Shattered (Steel Brothers Saga 7) - Page 130

Michelle opened it and pulled out a bottle of Moët. “Some bubbles to toast the beginning of our three weeks in paradise.”

I wasn’t in a partying mood quite yet. “No thank you.”

“Hey. Remember? You’re going to go with it.” She unwrapped the cork and pulled it out with a pop.

“You’re right. I said that.” Trying to do my part, I searched the cupboards until I found some champagne flutes. Michelle filled them and handed one to me.

“To finding what we’ve lost,” she said, clinking my glass.

I inhaled deeply. She’d chosen interesting words. I would never literally find what I’d lost, but maybe I could find part of myself—a part that was strong, a part that could help me get through what was coming. “All right. To finding what we’ve lost.” I took a drink of the sparkling liquid. The bubbles danced across my tongue.

“To that end,” Michelle said, “let’s change clothes and go for a walk on the beach. You take the room at the end of the hallway upstairs. I’ll take the bedroom down here.”

I lugged my bags upstairs to the room she’d chosen for me…and dropped my jaw to the floor when I walked in. This was the master suite of all master suites. I didn’t need this room. Why had she rented this particular villa, anyway? We could have made do in one hotel room with two beds.

The king-size bed was draped in black and silver silk, and the dressers and night tables were dark cherry. But that was nothing compared to the bathroom. Pure decadence. Silvery white marble countertops and black porcelain fixtures, including a bidet. The tub and steam shower were both big enough for two. I inhaled. The entire room smelled of rose and lavender.

I unpacked a few things and changed into a hot pink bikini that Michelle had insisted I buy. “You have a great body,” she’d said. “Show it off!”

To whom I was going to show it off, I had no idea. I put it on anyway and wrapped a black and pink sarong around my waist. I wriggled my toes into some flip-flops, brushed out my honey-blond hair and gathered it into a high ponytail, and went back downstairs.

Michelle was waiting for me in the kitchen, dressed in a royal-blue bikini top and white broomstick skirt. She handed me another glass of champagne. “Some bubbles for the walk.”

“On a public beach?”

“Silly. This is a private beach. Did you notice any other houses around when we drove up here?”

I hadn’t noticed much of anything. I’d been too busy feeling sorry for myself. “I’m sorry. Then I guess it’s okay.”

“It’s all okay,” she said, smiling. “Go on out. Walk to the left. The view is spectacular. I’ll catch up in a minute.” She sipped her drink.

“No. I’ll wait for you.”

“I have a quick call to make, and I don’t want you hanging around here when the beach and waves are right outside. Go. I don’t want you to miss the sunset.”

What did I have to lose? I’d already lost everything. Walking on the beach by myself for a few minutes wouldn’t hurt me. I stepped outside, gripping the stem of my glass, and looked toward the ocean. The sun was nearing the horizon, a bright orange ball with rays of yellow and white radiating around it. It was still quite bright, so I shielded my eyes. I hadn’t thought to put on sunglasses.

Then I walked along the shoreline, looking down at the myriad shells and flora that had been washed ashore. After I’d gone a few yards, I looked back for Michelle. No sign of her yet.

I continued, looking again to the sun and then ahead, when—

Michelle had said this was a private beach. So why was a figure walking toward me?

I squinted, trying to get a better look. Something seemed so familiar about the confident stride…

My heart jumped.

No.

It couldn’t be.

A ghost was walking toward me.

A ghost who said I had the most beautiful blue eyes he’d ever seen.

Continue Reading Misadventures of a Good Wive

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