The Tycoon's Forced Bride

On her second night on the island, she slept better than she had in years, cocooned by soft French linens, clouds of down, and the gentle breeze of the ceiling fan. Ava didn’t wake until Genevieve opened the plantation shutters and let in the golden sun.

“Good morning, Ms. Galván. It’s going to be another beautiful day. Mr. McKenzie hopes you’ll join him in half an hour for breakfast on the yacht.”

“The yacht?”

Genevieve smiled. “I’ve packed your swimsuit and a cover up in a tote since it sounds like you’ll be doing some swimming later, too.”

*

Ava dressed for the day on the yacht in a slim, white knit skirt and a white tank. She let Genevieve do her hair and was pleased by the loose but stylish ponytail.

Once she was ready to go, Genevieve drove Ava to the gondola platform in one of the estate’s small golf carts to keep Ava from having to walk too much too early in the day.

Colm was waiting for her at the bottom of the gondola and he escorted her across the beach to a small motorboat waiting to ferry them out to the yacht anchored in the bay.

Ava was delighted to be out on the water and laughed as the motorboat hit a wave and gave them a light splash. In Argentina, she?

??d spent a lot of time on the water as a girl, and being here was bringing back memories of her family, and the holidays at the sea.

“Happy?” Colm asked as the boat neared the anchored yacht.

She nodded. “I love this. Reminds me of home.”

On the yacht, Colm took her on a brief tour so she’d have her bearings and then they took seats at a table on one of the back decks to take advantage of the morning sun.

It was a perfect morning, warm but not hot with just a few puffy white clouds to highlight the azure sky.

Staff appeared with pitchers of fresh squeezed juices and pots of strong black coffee and then followed with platters of eggs and grilled tomatoes and breakfast meats. Ava focused on coffee and a delicate croissant, while Colm ate a little bit of everything.

They didn’t talk much over breakfast, content to just enjoy the meal, the sun, and the passing scenery. It was a spectacular way to see the island. From the water, St. Barts was a jagged sweep of green circled by white sand and lapping blue waves.

“This isn’t real,” she said. “I don’t feel real. I’m not even sure you’re real.”

“Let me check that,” he said, and before she knew what was happening, he’d dipped his head and kissed her.

A shiver of pleasure raced through her at the touch of his lips. He tasted good, warm, and she shivered again as the tingle of sensation gave way to heat. She always forgot how quickly the fire between them ignited, and it ignited now, hotter than ever.

By the time Colm lifted his head, her heart was racing and she felt positively electric.

How could one small kiss be hot and cold? How could it burn? How could it make her feel so painfully alive?

“It seems real enough to me,” he answered lazily.

She flushed, battling emotion. She wanted more even as she knew more wasn’t good for her…or them.

“You look great today,” he added. “But then, I’ve always liked you in white. It sets off your gorgeous hair and eyes.”

“Thank you.”

“You’ve begun to exercise again, haven’t you?”

She glanced down, taking in the short skirt and length of bare leg. From this angle she couldn’t see the scars but even if she could, she was determined not to let them upset her. “I’m dancing,” she said. “Nothing complicated. Just beginner classes a couple days a week, but it feels good to be at the barre. Who knew I loved plies and tendus so much?”

“I did. And I’m glad you’re taking classes again. It’s good for you. Not just for your body. But your head.” He leaned back as the staff cleared the last of the breakfast dishes. “Speaking of your head, you seemed to have slept well last night.”

She frowned, puzzled. “Do you know something I don’t?” she asked uneasily.

“I was with you last night.”

“I didn’t realize.” She stiffened and then swallowed hard, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but here. How could she not have known? “Did I…did we…?”

“We didn’t make love. We didn’t even kiss. You were worried about waking up and not knowing where you were, so I stayed with you. That’s all.”

But she wasn’t reassured. It was troubling for her, deeply troubling—even terrifying—to not know things, much less remember significant details like sharing a bed with someone.

Or remembering where one left one’s son.

Her eyes burned. She blinked back tears before they could fall. “This is why I did not want to come here. This is why I begged you to leave me in New York, to leave me with my routine. I hate forgetting things. I hate waking up and being lost and confused. But most of all, I hate that I can’t remember what is important. You. Jack. And yet I do. And I always will.”

“Maybe, but maybe not. You are better, Ava. Much, much better. And you know it.” He leaned towards her, his big body invading her space, making the hair on her nape rise and her skin prickle with awareness. “Look at you. You’re beautiful. And you’re happy here. And, Ava, you’d be even happier with Jack.”

He pushed an envelope towards her. He’d kept it hidden under the placemat but wanted her to have it now. “You don’t have your notebook here, but if you did, I’d have you put these in it. To remember how you are. Not how you imagine yourself to be.”