Secrets Made in Paradise

‘Don’t I? I think it would be an added-value extra for our customers. You’d go on the boat tours with them, take the pictures.’ He leaned back thoughtfully. ‘In fact, I’m going to have to hire more than one.’

‘Well, not me,’ she said. ‘I can’t—’

‘Accept any help?’ He interrupted with raised eyebrows. ‘Why be so determined not to accept any help, any advice, or make use of any contacts?’

‘Because I want to make something of myself, myself. You of all people must understand that. No car-parking buildings, remember? You wanted to do your own thing. Prove to them that you could.’

‘But you’ve already made something of yourself. You’ve dedicated years to voluntary work. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone, Emmy. Not me. And not to yourself.’ He huffed a breath. ‘Why not do something you’d thrive on and love?’

‘Look, it’s a good idea,’ she admitted. ‘A lot of your guests would love it...but I can’t be that person.’

He grabbed her hand and stopped her from walking away. ‘Don’t you think you deserve it?’

She looked at him questioningly.

‘Help from someone? Support from someone? Anything from someone?’

‘It’s not that,’ she murmured. She’d accepted help before. The problem was that she’d just realised what it was she did want from him. And it wasn’t help or support. It was everything.

And that included her being able to offer support to him.

His grip on her tightened fractionally before he suddenly released her and stepped back. ‘Because it would be for me?’

She said nothing as another guest stepped up to speak to them, but she felt Javier’s withdrawal and that ache in her heart intensified.

The evening slipped by in concerted effort of smiles and conversation. Emerald talked and focused so hard, anything to distract herself from her own realisation and that moment with Javier.

So she was tired when they returned to the helicopter and flew fast and low across the water to the waiting yacht. She dozed for most of the trip, her head resting on his shoulder, her hand held in his. Because despite her realisation, she couldn’t deny herself his touch.

He gently roused her, then with a laugh half carried her from the ’copter onto the deck and towards his cabin.

‘I need to check Luke,’ she said softly, properly coming awake.

‘I know,’ he murmured. ‘Already on it.’

The door to their baby’s room was ajar. A square of light illuminated the room enough for her to see Luke in his cot. Her son seemed to have inherited her ability to sleep through the sound of a helicopter arriving. Her heart rose into her throat. He was so beautiful.

‘I watch him when he’s sleeping. I stare at him and I can’t believe he’s mine,’ she confessed in a whisper. ‘He’s so perfect. It’s like magic. And there’s nothing I won’t do to protect him.’ She glanced up at Javier. ‘Do you know what I mean?’

In the half-darkness she couldn’t tell if he smiled back at her. But she heard the rasp in his whisper.

‘I know exactly what you mean.’

That soft answer soothed her anxiety. Javier, she was certain, had fallen in love with Luke. And suddenly, in this midnight hour, having seen Luke, being with Javier...it made her wonder if magic might be real after all. Her heart filled with a bubble of hope. Maybe they just needed more time?

She’d told Javier her truth and he’d still wanted her to come with him tonight. Her family background didn’t bother him. So then maybe, maybe this could work? Maybe, in time, he would open up to her fully? He would let her really know what it was that had kept him distanced for so long?

Yes, she was vulnerable, but she and Javier shared a bond—Luke—and they shared passion. They shared laughter too. Perhaps, in time, something more could grow from those foundations?

‘Why are you smiling?’ Javier asked when she’d led the way back up to his private deck.

Emmy turned to face him. He was looking at her curiously, his beautiful eyes deep and warm, and she couldn’t resist falling into the fantasy.

‘You remind me of someone I met once,’ she teased him playfully.

His eyebrows arched. ‘Who was that?’

‘Oh, he was a pirate.’

‘A pirate?’ His grin flashed in the moonlight.

‘He came to the islands looking for treasure. His name was Ramon and he was a rogue and I couldn’t resist him. He was playful and fun and impossible to say no to.’

‘Was he?’ A tantalising thread in his voice drew her nearer. ‘Well, you remind me of someone I met once, too,’ he said. ‘She wasn’t like any other woman I’d met before.’

‘No?’

‘She emerged from the water in this stunning bikini, a voluptuous nymph.’

‘That’s what caught your eye, huh?’ She giggled. ‘Always the bikini.’

‘What can I say?’ He laughed. ‘It emphasised her spectacular curves and flaming-red hair. But it was her artless confidence that stopped me in my tracks. She looked so liberated in her wild environment—open and innocent and it turned out she was a rare creature in disguise. She was a bona fide fire-breathing dragon and she let me into her secret world.’

‘A dragon?’

‘The best kind. Beautiful, every inch was a different sort of treasure.’

‘Ramon showed me a secret world of his own too,’ she whispered huskily. ‘Dance with me.’

His gaze flared. ‘Dance? There’s no music.’

‘You know we make our own.’ She didn’t just dance with him, she danced for him. Teasing her way out of the silk dress.

‘You’re so damn sexy,’ he muttered hoarsely. ‘I just want to...’

‘To what?’ she teased. Because she knew very well and she wanted it every bit as much.

And suddenly this was her night. Nothing—no reticence or fear—held her back. It was like that night on the beach when a pirate had appeared and breathed the fierceness within her to life. Only now it was better. Now she understood more what there was to be had with him. And now she understood just what it was she was feeling and how deep it ran and there was no way she could not express it. Not now he was before her again, gazing intently, his jaw slack, his breathing roughened as she danced closer still.

‘Emmy...’

It was a cross between a warning and a plea and it only made her burn hotter and her smile more sultry and her heart more loving. And she wanted to love him so very much. She wanted not to hide, not to have to be afraid, not to have to stay silent as she had in other ways for so long.

The truth that had hit her earlier tonight was so huge, there was no hiding it, no denying it and, in this moonlit madness, she didn’t even want to try. Instead she let it release—streaming from every pore. Every sweep of her hands, every suck of her mouth, every arch of her hips, spelled out her passion for him. She couldn’t stop her own response, her own desire and discovering again the joy of his powerful, guttural response. The need to prove in this one, most basic and instinctive of ways consumed her—that she was utterly his.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

JAVIER STEALTHILY MOVED across the bedroom floor, not wishing to wake her this early. The sun wasn’t even a glimmer on the water yet, but his mind was riffing on too many things for him to sleep. Too many uncomfortable things. And suddenly he couldn’t stay here...he couldn’t float endlessly in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, eating and swimming and sleeping...

Last night had been...successful? He should, in theory, be delighted at the way the hotel refurbishment was going and the welcome he’d received from local business leaders. He ought to be delighted at how popular Emmy’s photo had been in that line-up celebrating the region—and how touched she’d been he’d used it. And frankly, he ought to be in the recovery position and having extra oxygen tubed in, given how explo