by Lily Everett
“I learned to believe in destiny while I was traveling.” Cooper’s voice was dark with some emotion Vivian couldn’t name. Then he smiled, seductive and dangerous. “I learned to respect it. Because when the universe gives you a shot at something, you take it—or you regret it forever.”
The idea struck a chord in Vivian’s chest. She met his gaze with all the boldness she could muster, heart thundering with nerves and anticipation. “Then we definitely shouldn’t let this moment pass us by.”
Satisfaction blazed bright in Cooper’s eyes for the rest of the evening, even as they saw the bride and groom off in their luxury helicopter then headed down to enjoy the bonfire on the night beach.
The rest of the party guests began to trickle home. And as the bonfire blazed high, casting a red and orange glow of heat over the few remaining wedding guests huddled in Adirondack chairs around it, Cooper said, “I want to see this house you bought.”
After one too many champagne toasts, Vivian’s blood felt heavy and warm in her veins. She rolled her head on the wooden lounge chair to peer through the shimmery darkness at him. His face was half in shadow, half lit by the hissing, popping bonfire, but she could easily make out the broad, hard-muscled shape of his shoulders and arms, and the taut twist of his trim waist.
He waited patiently, watching her as she stared at him, and Vivian felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the bonfire. “It’s not a house,” she said breathlessly. “It’s more of a cabin, really. Very small, a little bit of a fixer upper, but lovely views of Lantern Lake.”
Cooper propped one elbow on the arm of the chair and rested his chin on his hand. He’d lost his black bow tie at some point in the evening, and the top two buttons of his white shirt were undone, exposing a narrow V of tanned skin. “You know, I’ve been all over this island in the last couple of weeks, and I don’t remember seeing a lake.”
“It’s hard to find,” Vivian agreed, with a tiny, secret smile. “Almost as if it’s my own private paradise.”
Or … the private paradise of whoever wound up living there for real.
She ignored the pang of longing. The Lantern Lake cabin certainly wasn’t her dream house, or anything. You can’t afford dreams anymore, she reminded herself. Not until you prove to yourself you can survive without the help of a rich husband and wealthy parents.
“Okay, now I really have to see it.” Cooper stood and held out a hand to her. “Show me this Lantern Lake of yours. I want to take a look at your private paradise.”
The silken seduction in his tone was more practiced than the boy she remembered, but the look in his extraordinary hazel eyes was the same. Somehow, after so long and so much painful history between them, he still wanted her. And heaven knew, Vivian had never forgotten what it felt like to be desired by Cooper Hayes. Everything in her yearned to experience the heady bliss of a night with Cooper once more.
Vivian paused, the cold harshness of reality threatening to pierce the soft shimmery bubble of her fantasy. If she took Cooper back to the Lantern Lake cabin, she had no illusions about what would happen there.
The youthful desire that had burned hotter than the bonfire lighting up the beach was still ablaze between them. In the sheltered privacy of her little cabin, surrounded by nothing but the calm lake, stands of maritime pine trees, and the bands of wild horses who made this island their home, Vivian knew she wouldn’t be able to resist Cooper.
She wouldn’t even want to.
But after a night of passion with him, what would the morning bring? Because she also had no illusions about any possible future between them. That ship sailed—and sank—a long time ago. Could she bear to go through with tonight, knowing it was the last time she’d ever see him … touch him … kiss him …
When the universe gives you a shot at something, you take it—or you regret it forever.
Vivian put her hand in Cooper’s and let him tug her to her feet. “Let’s go.”
A spark caught and flared in the depths of his eyes, burning hotter than the fire at her back. Vivian’s heart jumped and started to pump thunderously in anticipation.
Without another word, Cooper laced their fingers together and pulled her away from the circle of light the bonfire cast over the last, lingering wedding guests. Vivian followed him to his low-slung red sports car, too full of jittery excitement to even feel the chill of the night air.
She couldn’t pass up the chance to add new memories to the store of mental images that had gotten her through the toughest times of her life. She’d steal one more night of passion with the only man she’d ever loved—and then she’d open her hands and let him go back to his fabulous life of wealth and adventure.
The life she could have shared with him. The life that would never be hers now.
So she’d take tonight and be grateful, no matter what happened. No matter how much it would hurt to say goodbye to Cooper when it was over.
Chapter Three
Cooper followed Vivian’s quiet directions across the silent, narrow island roads. The tension between them hung as thick as the fog over the Scottish highlands where Cooper had done his first off-roading trek.
That battered old Land Rover he’d driven through rushing creeks and up perilous hillsides hadn’t been as fancy as his Ferrarri Testarossa, but it had been a damn sight more reliable. As the sportscar’s racing wheels spun uselessly against the gravel road at the end of what Vivian optimistically called her “driveway,” Cooper spared a brief moment to wish he’d brought the Rover instead.
The convertible churned up the dual ruts of the pitted, pocked drive, curving through a winter forest of evergreen and pine. Its flip-up head lamps were the only light, apart from the graceful sickle of the moon.
Cooper squinted at the pitch blackness outside. “Isn’t it a little dangerous, living this far from the center of town?”
A tiny smile curled Vivian’s lips. “This from the man who BASE jumped off Angel Falls in a wing-suit, and filmed the entire stunt.”
“Not dangerous for me,” Cooper argued, peering through the small windshield and wincing at the grating scratch of something sharp along the car’s undercarriage. “Dangerous for—a woman living alone.”
Vivian’s smile widened fractionally, as if she’d heard the concern Cooper didn’t want to feel, much less speak aloud. “Don’t worry. Sanctuary Island is very safe. We have our own Sheriff’s department, but about the only calls they ever get are kids trespassing on the horse preserve and people running the one traffic light in front of the bakery on Main Street.”
He wasn’t sure he liked that. Aside from the obvious dangers to a woman alone, cut off from easy access to emergency services, there was the personality angle. Viv had always been an extrovert, quick to laugh, the life of every party, surrounded by friends and admirers.
“I just can’t picture you being happy to sit alone in an empty house in the middle of nowhere,” Cooper said bluntly.
She turned her head slightly, as if glancing at something outside the passenger window. “I don’t mind a little alone time, these days.”
There was something in her voice, some heavy meaning too vague for Cooper to grasp, and before he could ask about it, Vivian clutched his arm in excitement.
“We’re here! Slow down, this is a good view of the property.”
The Ferrari growled its way out of the woods at the top of a small hill, the beams of its headlights reflecting off the mirrored surface of a secluded lake. Set against the meandering shore, amongst the reed grass and cattails, was a small clapboard cottage. Warm golden light spilled from the lamps on either side of the door, like a beacon calling them home through the darkness.
Shaking his head at his own ridiculousness, Cooper caught sight of Vivian out of the corner of his eye. Face lit by a soft smile, her midnight eyes seemed to reflect the twinkle of the stars over the lake. She looked more like the girl of his memories now than she had all evening.
“Beautiful,” he told her, eyes never
leaving her face.
“Isn’t it?” She sighed, her gaze roaming almost hungrily over the tiny homestead spread out at the foot of the hill. “The minute I saw it, I knew I had to have it.”
Forcing himself to look back at the property, Cooper acknowledged the magnetic attraction of the place. Even with the epic distraction of the woman next to him, he could feel the familiar tug of interest, the spark of desire to explore. He wanted to hike around the lake, climb a tree and see the view from up there, poke through the little, old cabin and get a sense of the people who’d lived there before.
Maybe he’d even get a sense of the woman who lived there now, he reflected, carefully navigating the end of the drive and parking in front of the porch. As clear and vivid as his memories of Vivian Banks had always remained, he had to admit she was more or less a mystery to him now.
Heart thumping with all the anticipation of an undiscovered country, Cooper followed Vivian up the rickety porch steps. He barely noticed the peeling paint on the doorframe and the sad creak of rusty hinges before Vivian shut the door behind them and Cooper made his move.
With a low sound of need, he pinned her against her own front door, caging her in with his larger body. Cooper stared down at her, blood rushing fast and furious in his veins and throbbing between his legs. Vivian blinked up at him, her irises a slim purple band around pupils wide with shock or desire. Or a combination of the two.
“Don’t you want to see the house?” Her voice was a husky whisper in the dark, like velvet stroking his skin.
“I’ve got everything I want right here,” Cooper said, with a deliberate grind of his hips that made her gasp. He ignored how right the words felt, how true they seemed, in favor of dipping his head for a deep, persuasive kiss.
But he didn’t need to do much persuading. Vivian met him heat for heat, bite for bite, moan for moan. The fire between them seemed never to have gone out—it had only been banked, live red coals waiting for a spark to flare into the kind of scorching heat Cooper thought he could die from.
When Vivian clutched at his shoulders and twined one lithe leg around his, Cooper groaned and got his hands under her hips. He lifted her up until she locked her ankles behind his back and the force of his body pressed her into the door. She curled her arms around him and buried her face in his neck as he tunneled his hands under the filmy material of her bridesmaid dress.
Vivian had never liked wearing tight, confining pantyhose, even in the dead of a New York winter—and, in that, at least, she hadn’t changed. With a growl of appreciation, Cooper got his hands directly on the smooth, heated silk of her bare skin.
He ached to be inside her, to experience the tight clasp of her body and the surging waves of her response. In the past, he never would have taken her this way, rough and ready and up against a wall—but he’d been young, then. Young, trusting, and innocent enough to want to cherish every breath Vivian Banks took.
Older now, more experienced and more confident, Cooper was no stranger to the quick and dirty encounter. He knew exactly how satisfying it could be, how much pleasure he could give a woman in this position.
But some tiny corner of him, some remnant of the romantic idiot he used to be, forced him to ask, “Is this okay with you?”
The look she flashed him made everything in his body tighten. “Everything. Anything. Just don’t stop.”
* * *
Maybe it was greedy. Maybe it was shortsighted. Maybe Vivian was the worst kind of fool—but she couldn’t bring herself to believe she’d ever regret stealing one last night of passion with the only man she’d ever loved. Even knowing he didn’t love her back, and never would again.
And somehow, the knowledge that it was the last time freed her up to be as brave and adventurous as she’d been as a girl, before the reality of her life taught her to keep her head down and do her best to be invisible. When Cooper stared deep into her eyes, she knew he saw her. And instead of feeling exposed or vulnerable, Vivian reveled in it. She was alive, with Cooper Hayes’s superheated, muscular body keeping her pinned to the front door like a butterfly on a card, and when he moved his hips like that …
Vivian shuddered, her eyes fluttering closed as black starbursts exploded across her vision. Her body, which she hadn’t thought twice about in years, came to shivering, gasping life in Cooper’s arms. Yes, she thought in dazed answer to Cooper’s question—this was entirely okay. Okay didn’t come close to covering it.
The first time against the door didn’t last long. It couldn’t. They were too hungry, starved for each other. The second time, on the stairs up to the small, single bedroom, was full of laughter and cursing as they fumbled for balance and leverage against the hardwood risers and railing. By the time they finally fell into her bed, the soft, clean cotton sheets were a cool and welcome relief against their fevered skin. Vivian pulled Cooper down until his body covered hers, a wall of muscle and bone keeping the future at bay. She turned her head far enough to peer through the gauzy white curtains at the subtle violet shade of the lightening sky. Dawn was coming.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Vivian craned her neck to press her kiss-swollen lips to Cooper’s.
“You’re not too tired?” His low voice rasped over her nerves, making her shiver.
“One more time,” she replied, and he met her lips with a deep groan of need.
The third time was slow, every touch and caress whispering over Vivian’s sensitive skin. With moans and sighs, she urged him to hurry, to give her what she needed, but Cooper rose over her on his strong arms and stared down implacably. His eyes burned with determination, iron control hardening his jaw, and Vivian knew he intended to take her apart piece by piece. Surrendering to it, she tilted her head back and rode the waves of sensation until she broke on the rocks, shattered and completely undone.
Finally sated, Cooper collapsed beside her and fell asleep instantly. She forced her heavy eyes to stay open for a long moment, long enough to trace every line of Cooper’s face. Men were supposed to look softer, more boyish in sleep, she thought drowsily. But Cooper didn’t. Even the slackness of sleep couldn’t erase the hardness from his face. He’d changed.
Well, so had she. She was stronger now, in some ways—and honest enough with herself to admit she was a total mess in other ways.
And as she drifted off to sleep, Vivian was aware of a sharp pain in her chest at the knowledge that they’d never have the chance to get to know one another as they were now. Because she couldn’t afford the distraction while she worked toward her independence … and because Cooper didn’t care to know more than her body.
Too bad accepting that she deserved this pain didn’t seem to lessen it at all.
Chapter Four
As usual, Cooper came awake in a rush of total awareness of his surroundings. He’d worked hard to overcome waking disoriented—the occupational hazard of world exploration. No matter where he was, from a hut in the Andes to a villa in St. Moritz, Cooper had trained his brain to keep track. He hated being off balance when he opened his eyes, so before sleep, he fixed an image of his current location in his mind’s eye … but last night, he’d had other things on his mind.
Those other things came back to him in a rush of awareness of the slender, naked, feminine body curled warm and close beneath sheets soft from repeated washing. Vivian. The memories of the night before crashed over him and headed straight for his morning erection. He wished he could be surprised that last night’s marathon sex hadn’t gotten this woman out of his head, but he wasn’t. There was something about Vivian that hooked him, drawing him to her like an addict to a bottle of bourbon.
And what advice would he give a friend trying to kick an addiction? Cold turkey, baby.
Just as he was trying to get up the energy to haul his ass out of the warm bed and into the frigid morning air of the bedroom, Vivian stirred beside him and made a soft smacking sound with her lips. Cooper couldn’t help but grin. She’d always been a cute sleeper. Back in the dorms, he used
to wake her every morning by raining kisses over her forehead, cheeks, closed eyelids … she’d furrow her dark brows in confusion, and he’d kiss the sleepy frown away.
He shifted uneasily, trying to avoid the swell of tenderness the memory evoked. The sheets slid over his skin, and for the first time, he saw the room in the light of day. The bed was an old four-poster, obviously solidly made since it had withstood their combined efforts to break the thing the night before, but enough scars and nicks marred the gleaming cherrywood headboard to tell him the bed wasn’t new. But it wasn’t an antique, either, the kind the Banks family had used to decorate their ancestral pile in Westchester County, outside New York. And the sheets … they were frayed at the edges, faded and worn. Cooper, who’d slept on some high-thread-count Egyptian cotton in his day, could tell that these weren’t that fancy. He frowned a little as he ran his hand across the surface of the covers draped over his hips. Why wouldn’t Vivian Banks have the very best?
The mystery of how she’d spent the last ten years tugged at Cooper, but he shoved it away. So Vivian was living more simply than she’d been brought up, or than she would have with the rich society guy she’d married. Even the super wealthy liked to take a vacation from their lives and rough it, now and then.
But as he took in the rest of the room, Cooper felt his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline. The curtains at the window were tatty and full of holes, as if moths had gotten at them. The scratched hardwood floor was covered by an old, stained hooked rug in faded reds and blues, and the ceiling sagged in one corner with a worrying crack running down the plaster wall beside the window. The window’s panes sparkled, though, the rising sun beaming through the polished glass. So she’d been here long enough to hire a cleaning lady, he assumed.
Stop it, he ordered himself, pushing down the covers and sliding from the bed to find his clothes. He cursed silently when he realized they were all downstairs—or, more likely, scattered along the stairs themselves, marking the path they’d taken from the front door to the bedroom like a trail of breadcrumbs. A gust of frigid air whistled through a crack in the window frame, chilling him completely. Cooper paused for a long heartbeat, staring down at the warm, cozy nest of the bed. Vivian’s black hair tumbled across the pillow, a tendril curling loosely around her bare breast. All Cooper wanted was to reach down and feel the texture of that saucy curl, then climb back in bed and wake her up with a kiss.
