Jinx's Fantasy (Goddess Isles 5.2)

Sully kissed my temple, whispering in my ear, “Sign, Jinx. I want to be back on our beach.”

With his breath tickling my nape, I did what he requested and scribed my signature. I took ownership of Calypso and Thimble, and Jess clapped her hands as a waiter brought around six glasses of champagne.

“A toast,” Jess said. “To new friends and new adventures.”

We all raised our glasses and clinked.

And my dirty mind went to what Sully had promised in the master bedroom of this floating palace.

He said he’d code me an underwater fantasy. A hallucination I’d been wanting to try for a while now. A fantasy that’d been born thanks to Sully’s affinity with the sea and my lust for his body dripping with water.

Soon, I wouldn’t just be a woman who bought yachts as if they were seashells.

I would be some water nymph with a dangerous man begging at her feet.

I can’t wait to see what he comes up with.Chapter Five

I HELD THE STEERING WHEEL of Singa Laut, ready to cast off from Calypso and return to my island. Cal and Jess already sat down the back, speaking between themselves, Radcliffe and Rory stood on either side of the hull, ready for war even in paradise, and my delicious wife stood beside me, grinning as two emerald flashes appeared just before Pika and Skittles fluttered from the sky and descended on us.

Pika on my head. Skittles on Eleanor’s shoulder.

“Decided you missed us, huh?” I shook my head, making Pika squeak.

Tasmin sucked in a breath from where she stood by the railing. “Are they tame or do wild birds have a habit of landing on you out here?”

I chuckled. “They’re tame. A part of our family, really.”

“Skittles adopted me,” Jinx said, shading her gaze from the sun as she looked up at Tasmin. “However, thousands of birds live on Goddess Isles. Some native, some imported from our rescue efforts. All beautiful and unique in their own way.” Giving me a quick look, Eleanor padded barefoot to the side of the speedboat and leaped back onto the watery platform of Calypso. Moving toward Tasmin, she encouraged Skittles to hop to her finger before presenting her to the brown-haired girl beside Prest.

“Here. She won’t bite.”

A few years ago, I would’ve disagreed with her.

Skittles’s trust issues had been numerous, and if she felt cornered, she had a wicked nip on her. But ever since Eleanor had come along, Skittles had been a doting, adorable companion who no longer vanished into the jungle for months on end but slept each night on Eleanor’s pillow while Pika slept on mine.

“She’s beautiful,” Tasmin murmured, reaching out to stroke Skittles’s bright green wings. Skittles puffed up in warning but then smoothed her feathers as Eleanor cooed at her.

I’d be jealous of the relationship between that caique and my wife if I didn’t love them both.

Pika, not one to tolerate being ignored, shot from my hair and flapped around Prest’s head, squeaking and cawing, making a fucking spectacle of himself.

I sighed. “Don’t mind him. He’s all bark.”

Prest ducked as Pika dive-bombed and snatched a clawful of his blue-black hair. “Feisty bugger, isn’t he?”

“Feisty. Opinionated. Asshole.” I shrugged. “He owns all the names for ‘nuisance’ that exist in a dictionary.”

Prest gave me a tight smile.

Pika decided to investigate the yacht, zipping into the lounge and leaving our ears ringing from his squawks.

Once again, I scanned the horizon, expecting to see Prest’s personal yacht, Phantom. It’d been a few hours since we’d begun the tour and still no other vessel had arrived.

For now, Prest and Tasmin were stuck here. On my newly purchased boat. Stranded in my seas with no way to leave.

I should probably be civil and invite them to my shores.

No.

I’d had my fill of socialising, but it seemed Eleanor and I were always linked, for better or for worse, and she took my idea of their stranded situation and offered an invitation I’d contemplated and dismissed because I was selfish and wanted my wife all to myself.

“Come.” She smiled at Tasmin as she continued to pet Skittles, then glanced at Prest who towered over them. “Your ride isn’t here yet. Let us return the hospitality and ply you with a cocktail as the sun goes down. The sunsets here are truly spectacular.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Prest said.

I’d met many men in my time. I’d used my knack at knowing who someone was beneath their lies and trickery. I’d dealt with bastards and billionaires, and I had a pretty good bullshit meter, but I couldn’t get a clear reading on Prest.

He held himself taut and poised as if he’d had martial art training. He moved like a lethal weapon, yet his hands moved elegantly, almost as if he was a musician in a past life. And when he looked at Tasmin, his face contradicted itself. Half furious as if pissed at the world and half besotted as if he worshipped the ground she walked upon.