Secrets Made in Paradise

by Natalie Anderson

  ‘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
sively passionate they’d been together last night—how devastating her sexy ministrations on deck had been. She had been pure feminine strength, pure fire and he shook just thinking about it.

  So in theory, he ought not to be able to move right now at all.

  Instead, the only thing he wanted to do was move. The discomfort that had begun as a mere irritating itch beneath his skin had inflamed into a sharp ache that rendered him unable to remain still. He went into the onboard office and focused on a multitude of meaningless tasks. The emails that could wait for replies, he tapped out lengthy responses to at three in the morning. He dictated longer missives for his assistant back in the States to act on later. He listed more things to be done by the rest of his team, brainstormed next developments and new ideas. He checked the global share-price indices, repeatedly, and scanned headlines of online papers and journals. It was all very deliberate and focused—as if by keeping busy again, he could ignore that problematic feeling increasing inside. But though he tried and tried, he couldn’t avoid the raging possessiveness emerging within him.

  It wasn’t a nice feeling. Worse was that it wasn’t within his control.

  It wasn’t regarding Luke—he was different, somehow. There was possessiveness, protectiveness, certainly. But it was embedded within a rock-solid certainty. Javier knew, no matter what, that he would always be there for his son. That was a surety.

  But the look on Emmy’s face last night when she’d risen over his body. The light in her eyes? The tenderness in her touch? That had been too much. Far too much.

  And that sense of elusiveness that he couldn’t cope with? It was destroying him now.

  Instead of being able to breathe easy and just enjoy this passing phase with her, he found himself flexing his fist as if he could hold onto the invisible. Or the impossible. But instead of grasping and getting only air, he knew he needed to push right away. Now.

  Because he didn’t just like her touch, he ached for her attention. And attention, he knew, eventually wandered. It ought not to matter—he assured himself it didn’t matter. It was just that it hadn’t been long enough to burn their chemistry yet. She’d teased him, questioning about how that would fade, but while he’d laughed, he’d been sure it would. It always had before. Perhaps the problem was because he was out of his usual sphere. It was time to return to the real world—not the isolated oasis of unique, protected creatures. The sooner the better.

  * * *

  ‘I need to go back to New York.’ He couldn’t even look into her eyes; he didn’t want those blues to magnify the nugget of regret lodging in his chest. ‘I have work commitments. Some meetings I can’t miss.’

  ‘When?’ Wariness muted her voice.

  ‘As soon as we’re packed.’

  ‘You wouldn’t let Luke and I stay here and come back when you’re done?’

  His gut tightened in instant rebellion at the thought, not just of leaving Luke, but of leaving her. That she’d even asked aggravated the irritation that had been festering for days.

  ‘I’m sorry, that was a stupid thing to ask.’ She spoke again swiftly before he had the chance to reply. ‘That was just me being...’

  Cautious. And Javier could understand it on a rational level. This was her home and Luke’s birthplace. But his gut roiled with perceived rejection. Nowhere was going to be as good as here for her.

  ‘We’ll come back often.’ He coughed the rasp from his throat. ‘I’ll need to for work anyway.’

  As always, once Javier set a plan in motion, it was enacted swiftly and precisely. Emmy counted as she breathed, trying to stay calm and not fall to pieces as she left the superyacht that had become ‘home’ in a shockingly short time period. They used the helicopter again from the boat back to Santa Cruz, where she insisted on seeing Connie to say goodbye and reassure her she’d bring Luke back again soon. Then they’d hopped to Quito and begun the journey to New York. The first-class cabin was luxurious but she couldn’t relax. Not even having Thomas to entertain Luke helped, it just gave her more time to ruminate on what was going to happen once they got to Javier’s home. And apart from that one query, Javier hadn’t bothered her. Hadn’t chatted with her. Hadn’t shared a laugh with her. It was as if he’d left already—lost in staring at his laptop screen, a frown of concentration and contemplation.

  There was no hint—no look, no touch, no murmur—of the magic they’d shared last night. No sign that he’d noticed how much of herself she’d given him then—because, truth be told, she’d given him everything last night. With her arms, her hands, her mouth...her heart.

  And how could he not have felt that? How could he not know?

  Yet it seemed he didn’t. Or worse, if he did, he wanted to pretend as if it hadn’t happened. Because he was silent and he didn’t see her. All he seemed to want was to escape. The problem was they were each to become a permanent pillar in the other’s life.

  But not in the way she wanted.

  So what happened when this ‘chemistry’ he felt for her finally faded? Where did that leave her? Because it wasn’t ever going to fade for her. It was built from something more solid than pheromones now and she knew her heart was about to be broken. Yet because of Luke, she was bound to Javier for the rest of her life. She’d be there, watching like a glued-to-the-pavement passer-by when he found new lovers. And there’d be plenty of them. And when he eventually found a woman he wanted to make his wife... She was sure that would happen, despite his declarations to the contrary. He was a fantastic father and an incredible lover and a generous, all in kind of person. So when he finally truly fell for someone, he wouldn’t hesitate. And he’d never do to Luke what had been done to him. He’d ensure his firstborn child was always kept close, in the very heart of his new family’s embrace. While Emerald would be glued in place—on the outside looking in.

  ‘Emmy?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  He was frowning at her from across the aisle of the plane. ’What are you thinking about?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You look like you’re about to cry.’

  She felt like it. Instead she dragged on a smile. ‘I was just drifting...miles away. Sorry.’

  ‘No need to be sorry.’ But he looked sombre. ‘I promise you’ll come back to the islands often.’

  It wasn’t leaving the islands hurting her heart. Even if they were to stay, the outlook would remain the same. A lonely, heartbroken future.

  * * *

  Javier’s residential building in Manhattan was near the financial district. As sophisticated and gleamingly stylish as she’d have expected. Totally the showstopper piece required for a financial wunderkind turned property billionaire.

  ‘A room has been partially kitted out as Luke’s nursery,’ he said as he carried their son in his arms and led her through the spacious apartment. ‘But you can do more with it if you’d like.’

  She glanced around the timelessly styled suite. Two large frames hung with perfect symmetry on the wall opposite Luke’s bed—one held the very first photo of Luke with her, moments after his birth. The other was the photo she’d taken of Javier with Luke swimming off the coast. There was not, she noted with a dull hit to her heart, a photo of the three of them together.

  ‘Thomas has the guest wing,’ Javier added. ‘And he’ll use the apartment I have for my staff on the level two below this during his weekends.’

  She rather envied the separate small living room, kitchenette, bedroom and bathroom that was for Thomas’s exclusive use.

  ‘There’s a computer on the desk for you, also a security card, access code, numbers for a driver if you need one. All the information is in the folder beside it.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She glanced and saw the boxes of brand-new things—laptop, phone, watch.

  Emotionally fraught, she saw her bags had been put straight into the master suite. Javier’s large bed dominated the room and
she quickly turned away from it, almost bumping into him behind her.

  ‘I have to go to the office.’ Javier stepped back brusquely. ‘I’ll be a few hours.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Yes, his walls were up again and his mind was clearly elsewhere—as it had been the whole trip. It seemed he couldn’t wait to get away from them both and she was so hurt. Had he seen what she’d felt last night? Was this why he was rejecting her now? And her anger began to grow—why couldn’t he at least talk to her about it? Why not be honest?

  She gave Thomas the rest of the day off to organise his things. Finally alone with Luke, she explored the large apartment. It taught her nothing new about Javier—there were no family pictures anywhere other than those two in Luke’s room. But given what he’d told her, she wasn’t surprised at that. The bookcases were filled with non-fiction on a variety of eclectic subjects. The art hanging in the living area and the sculptures on plinths in the vestibule were probably investments. As was the entire building, of course. It wasn’t a home that revealed anything about the inner life or personality of its owner. It was simply pristine and utterly comfortable—as restful and perfect as the hotels he was becoming famous for.

  In the gleaming kitchen, the fridge was already filled with organic, nutritious baby food provided by a boutique service Thomas had tracked down. Though, now they were ensconced in their new home, he would prepare most of Luke’s meals from scratch. Javier had told her he liked to order food in from any of the numerous restaurants nearby.

  So, it seemed she wasn’t needed for any kind of housekeeping or cooking support... or anything much else.

  Emmy took Luke for a walk around the neighbourhood to familiarise herself with the area. Then, while her son napped, she swallowed her pride and set up the new laptop Javier had had delivered. She would search online for possible work. Truthfully Javier’s thoughts had been helpful and she loved the idea of doing something with her photography. She had several skills and she’d figure something out; she always had in the past. But she got side-tracked looking at an online article about Javier. It referenced his staff—personal assistants, lawyers, accountants. He oversaw a whole empire she knew little about. Yet he’d talked to her about his plans earlier in the week on the boat when they’d both been distracting themselves from their own lust. He’d taken the time to answer her questions about what he did and why. He’d asked for her own experiences and advice on how to continue the legacy of the Flores Foundation. They’d debated the need and meaning of the voluntary programmes, the importance of sustainability. And she’d enjoyed every moment of those discussions.