Terms Of Their Costa Rican Temptation

She couldn’t help but laugh properly now. A sense of joy was building in her.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

She’d remember his words for the rest of her life.

‘It’s okay. Who would want a complete stranger literally crashing their one and only holiday, where they got to go off and be all—’

‘Mancenary?’

‘Exactly!’ she said, her eyes turning to him, flashing bright with fun and love and everything in between. For the first time she saw a glint of hope shining amongst the icy shards of his blue eyes like a diamond. ‘You must have thought me completely crazy, getting drunk and talking about missing jewels and secret passageways.’

‘Never,’ he said so sincerely she knew he was joking.

‘But Benoit,’ she said, finally looking at him, all the love she felt for him rising up and pouring out of her, knowing that she was safe, that her love was safe because she could see it shining in him. ‘Who knew that, beneath all that mansplaining,’ she said, reaching up to cup his jaw, running her thumb against the stubble he’d allowed to grow since the night of the ball, relishing the way he captured her hand in his, holding her to him, ‘and all those terse monosyllabic replies, was the only man I would ever truly love?’

He took her hands in his then, his eyes open and expressing every single thing he felt. Pain, guilt, but also hope and love.

‘I’m so sorry that I caused you such pain.’

‘The pain was always there, you just exposed it to sunlight, allowing it to heal. Allowing me to really embrace my love for you without giving myself away. I do love you because you allowed me to have that control in my life, you showed me that I can be strong and powerful and allow others the freedom to love me for who I am and not what I can be for them.’

Skye took a deep breath, her heart full with happiness, sadness, a little bit of grief and a whole lot of love. ‘But I also need to talk to you about something before I can say anything else. Because I’m going to need you to love me through this.’

He frowned and took her hand as if sensing the gravity of it. Slowly and with halting words, Skye explained how her mother had been diagnosed with stage three cancer and how they had just missed out on the most successful treatment the NHS had to offer because of where they lived. He held her hand as the tears fell and Skye confessed that the sisters only wanted the diamonds so that they could sell the estate and pay for Mariam’s treatment, he held her—shaking in his arms—as she revealed that she’d been scared of telling him because if he did this, if he supported her, loved her through this then she wasn’t sure that she would ever be able to let him go.

He told her that she’d never have to let him go as he wiped the tears from her cheeks. He promised her that together they would find either the treatment or the jewels, whatever it took to keep Mariam healthy for as long as possible, as he pressed gentle kisses to her forehead, eyelids, cheeks and mouth. He took her hand and placed it over his heart and told her that it belonged not just to her, now and always, but to her family, her sisters and mother, and that she would never face a hardship alone ever again.

‘Then I will marry you tomorrow, or any other day before your birthday if that’s what you want,’ Skye promised him, feeling as if she were soaring into clouds with the love that she felt within and around her.

Benoit gazed at her, moving so slowly that she almost hauled him to her—and, as if realising that, a smile curved the corner of his lip upwards and she’d never seen him look so devastating as he was in that moment.

‘You are so beautiful,’ he said, placing a kiss on her cheek. ‘So perfect,’ he said, kissing her neck. ‘So incredible,’ he said, his lips gently pressing against hers. ‘I have done nothing to deserve you,’ he said. ‘But I promise to spend the rest of my life trying to do so.’

He kissed her then, a slow building, powerful roll of lips and tongues and heat and love that threatened to take her breath away. They stayed there, kissing like teenagers until the moon came out and the stars twinkled as if laughing with them.

‘We should go in,’ Skye said reluctantly.

As if suddenly realising that inside there were many more options, like beds, and sofas, Benoit’s eyes brightened. ‘We should! We definitely should. But,’ he said, his eyes growing serious, ‘before we do... I won’t be marrying you tomorrow.’

Skye pulled up short in confusion as his words seemed to contradict each other.

‘I do want to marry you, more than anything I’ve ever wanted before. But I also want you to know that it’s not because of any possible connection to the company. So, Skye Soames, would you do me the honour of waiting until a year from today to marry me on my thirty-third birthday?’

She laughed, shock and a happy sort of surprise soaring in her breast. To know that, no matter what happened with the company, this was his gift to her. To know that he truly did love her, no matter what.

‘A year?’ she asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I suppose that will give you plenty of time.’

‘Time for what?’

‘For you to teach me how to ride a motorbike.’

EPILOGUE

THREE HUNDRED AND sixty-five days later and Skye was standing in front of a floor-length antique gold mirror in the most beautiful wedding dress she’d ever seen. Delicate lace detail smoothed over silk that draped perfectly over and around her incredibly large baby bump, making her smile even more.