Secrets Made in Paradise

‘Huh?’ He sat up and glared at her; his muscles actually jumped. ‘Emerald Jones, that’s fighting talk and you know it.’

‘Do I?’ She blinked at him.

He sat back on his heels. ‘Is it time for Luke to have a nap?’ Javier didn’t even try to hide the sly look in his eyes.

Emmy laughed. ‘Luke runs to his schedule, not ours.’

‘Well...’ Javier squeezed another toy in front of Luke’s face and sat back as if he weren’t at all concerned ‘...that’s fine for now. I can wait.’

‘Can you?’ she teased, because those bunching muscles of his were telling another story.

‘Don’t doubt me, Emerald,’ he said with downright menacing softness. ‘I’ll help you realise just how far from downhill certain things are about to go.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘WHY ARE YOU awake?’ Javier groaned as he watched Emmy slip from the bed and pull on her favourite—okay, only—linen dress. ‘More to the point, how are you awake? We only fell asleep thirty seconds ago.’ A slight exaggeration, but it was what it felt like.

‘I want to capture the sunrise,’ she whispered and came back to press a kiss to his lips. ‘You stay here. I suspect Luke is awake anyway.’

‘You should come back here and sleep in.’ He was only beginning to appreciate how tired she’d been from caring for Luke on her own all these months.

‘As if you’re making that possible?’

He chuckled and went to tug her back into his arms, but she’d pulled away before he could stop her.

Javier closed his eyes and groaned. He’d unleashed, not a dragon, but a camera-loving demon. These days she caressed that tech more than she caressed him. He laughed inwardly at his jealousy of an inanimate object. And he couldn’t get back to sleep now, not without her. That realisation sent a thread of unease down his spine.

What she did—or didn’t do—shouldn’t matter so much to him. It shouldn’t impact on his mood or on his day or on his choices. He tapped his phone and the curtains slid back to reveal that pre-dawn glimmer of light, and he steeled himself to go into the office. There were multiple messages that needed answering, so he spent a few hours on the phone and laptop, exercising the self-control that he was suddenly determined to maintain. Because it could slip, he acknowledged. He could so easily spend all day kissing her. But he wasn’t going to. And he wasn’t going to listen hard for her voice, or look forward to lunch, or keep an eye on the door in case she went past...

Irritated beyond belief at his failure to not do any of those things for hours, he pulled on some swim shorts and went to find his son’s mother in the middle of the afternoon.

Luke was napping and Thomas was rearranging the toys and books Javier had ordered. Emmy was curled on the plush sofa. It was her favourite place in the shade, overlooking both the pool and the sea, but she was intently watching something on a tablet. She looked up guiltily as he stepped nearer.

‘I hope you don’t mind—your assistant said it was okay for me to use this.’ She lifted the tablet. ‘That it’s a spare.’

‘You can use anything on board, Emmy. You don’t need to ask.’ He sat down beside her. ‘What are you watching?’

‘How-to videos.’

‘How to what?’ He leaned a little closer to peer at the screen. ‘Drive your man wild in bed?’

‘Are you saying I need lessons?’ she asked archly, but the hint of vulnerability in her eyes scratched a line of discomfort just beneath his skin.

‘You know I’m not.’ He laughed, leaning closer to steal a kiss. ‘Photography skills?’

She nodded and smiled at him. ‘That camera is amazing. I want to do it justice.’

‘Or you could just have fun with it.’ He shrugged, struggling to pull back from her.

‘I want to use it properly. I enjoy it.’

That had been obvious in the photos she’d taken of Luke all these months—they showed her eye for framing a good picture. He was pleased he’d found something to give her that she couldn’t refuse. Other than his body. He wanted to build more of a bridge between them; it was going to be important for Luke. And this was all about Luke, he reassured himself. He wanted his son to have the security he’d never had. To know that both parents wanted him, loved him, and would be there for him.

Javier watched the shiver ripple down her body as he stroked her arm. She was incredibly responsive to his touch and it spurred him to touch more. He’d discovered there was nothing better than torturing them both with tiny touches. He bent closer to blow softly across the sensitive skin between her shoulder blades. She turned towards him, her lips parted in pure invitation. It was exactly what he’d wanted and everything he couldn’t resist.

Yet it still wasn’t enough to satisfy the developing ache inside him.

For a few days there’d been nothing but that sensual magic between them as they’d submitted to the sweet, savage desire. And still his curiosity deepened. He didn’t want it to deepen. He didn’t want to think about her all the time like this. He wanted this all-consuming lust to ease. But it wasn’t. Perhaps if he satisfied every element of his curiosity, then it might finally ebb.

He knew she was untrusting and wary of being judged. It seemed she suspected the worst and expected the worst—not just of him, but everyone. He wanted to know why. He wanted her to trust him enough to tell him why.

He knew how hard she’d worked, and he knew better than anyone how inexperienced she really was with men—seemingly with all relationships—so what was it that caused her reticence and resentment? Why had she not had a real home for so long? Who had judged her so much? How and why? What had she done—or not done—to deserve it? He needed to know more.

She wasn’t this untrusting purely because of him. Sure, he’d been selfish in not telling her his real name that night. And when she’d found out who he was and that he’d invested in Lucero’s property, she’d been angry and resentful. But there was real fear within her too. Real fear that he might have taken Luke away from her. He had the horrible feeling she still worried that might happen and he hated that idea. So what was it that had been taken from her in the past? There had to have been loss. Was that why she’d not returned to her homeland in all this time?

He really didn’t like the thought of her being hurt that badly.

They couldn’t move forward without building some level of trust. Somehow he needed to get her to talk to him about more than her travels, her work. They’d conversed for hours about her voluntary work and the eco-action the Flores Foundation had undertaken to make the former hostel sustainable. He’d known about some from Lucero, of course, but getting the detail from her was fascinating and highly relevant to his own future plans.

But learning more about Emerald herself was almost impossible. Tempted as he was, he couldn’t go behind her back to discover more about her. But using only his hands to open the puzzle box that was Emerald Jones wasn’t working. He was going to use his mouth in more than one way too.

Maybe if he offered her real security she’d open up. That was one thing he’d felt short of when he was younger and being shoved from boarding school to ‘guest bedroom’ and back again. But getting his first apartment building had helped and, as far as he could tell, Emmy hadn’t had a permanent home in a long time. Maybe she’d like that?

‘You know, we can’t stay here for ever,’ he said idly. ‘I’m mostly based in New York. My apartment is in a nice location. There’s no reason why I can’t buy another in the same building for you.’

He watched closely for her response. She paled fractionally and he saw her struggle to swallow.

‘I can’t afford an apartment in New York,’ she said firmly. ‘And I’m not going to let you buy one for me.’

Yeah, he’d k

nown she’d instantly reject the idea of him housing her. She still didn’t want to accept anything of consequence from him. But he smiled smugly. ‘Well, if you won’t let me buy you an apartment, then you’ll have to move into mine.’

She stilled. ‘I’ll live wherever you want me to for the next eighteen months.’

He wasn’t rising to her throwing that damn stupid demand in his face this time. ‘It makes most sense,’ he mulled. ‘It’ll be more convenient.’

‘Convenient for what?’ she asked, too calmly.

‘It’ll give us both best access to Luke and it will be less confusing for him.’

‘Confusing? He’s nine months old, I don’t think he’s going to notice where I’m sleeping.’

That she was thinking about where she was sleeping tickled him. ‘We’ll come back to the islands often though,’ he added. ‘I want him to understand his heritage more than I ever got to. He needs to know where he comes from.’

She turned to face him. ‘You didn’t get that?’

He saw the curiosity burning in her eyes and steeled himself to answer at least a couple of the questions he knew she was bound to ask. ‘My father left when I was young and I learned nothing of him or his family other than his nationality. I taught myself Spanish as a teenager.’ He glanced at her and referred back to their son as quickly as he could. ‘I’m glad you use some with Luke.’

She nibbled her lip. ‘I’m not great at it, but Connie helped me.’

Javier nodded. ‘You know Thomas is fluent.’

‘Of course,’ she chuckled. ‘That’s good.’

Javier nodded. ‘Usually I have to travel a bit,’ he said cautiously. ‘I thought you and Luke would travel with me.’

‘You want me to travel with you as well?’ Her eyes widened.

‘I think that’s what’s best for Luke, don’t you?’

Emmy nodded and swallowed back the massive lump in her throat. Of course, it was always about Luke. Javier seemed very keen for their son to have both parents around. Given she’d just learned his father hadn’t been there for him, she was beginning to understand why, and she wanted to understand so much more. ‘If that’s what you think is best.’