Bad Romeo Christmas: A Starcrossed Anthology (Starcrossed #4)

Okay, so, I have to admit, this surprise is pretty awesome.

For the first time in my life, I'm in a helicopter, and it's amazing! Luis turns out to be a pilot, and he gives me a running commentary on the region and its people as he flies us along the Brazilian coast.

After a while, we head out to sea, and he points to an island in the distance. "That's where we're going."

"The island?"

He nods.

The green shape gets bigger as we approach, and when we're right over it, I press my head against the window to get a better look.

Either I'm crazy, or that island vaguely resembles a love heart.

In the center, there seems to be a large lake, and around the edges are pristine, white beaches.

"It's beautiful."

Luis nods. "Mr. Quinn thought you would like it."

"Is there a resort down there? I can't see it." I can just imagine sitting out by a pool while a bronzed Brazilian waitress brings me a drink with an umbrella and half a pineapple poking out of the top.

"No," Luis says. "Apart from my wife and I who take care of Mr. Quinn's house, the island is completely uninhabited."

I turn to Luis. "Liam owns a house there?"

"Well, yes, but only because it came with the island."

I stop breathing as his words sink in. "Luis ... are you telling me that Liam—" God, this is too bizarre to even say. "Liam bought an island?"

Yep, sounds just as ridiculous as I thought it would.

Apparently Luis doesn't think so, because he gives me a warm smile. "He bought it a couple of months ago. For you. He calls it Bliss."

My lungs tighten. "Let me get this straight. Liam bought an island."

"Yes."

"For me."

"Yes."

"And he called it Bliss?"

"Yes."

A shrill giggle bubbles out of me.

Sweet Holy Mother. Most girls are lucky if they get dinner and a show. My man bought me a baby continent.

I giggle again and realize there's a strong possibility I'm losing my grip on reality.

"He must love you very much," Luis says as he banks the helicopter down toward the island.

My island.

Feeling like my insides are going to explode, I say, "Yeah."

Luis takes us down over a wide grassy area before expertly landing on a bright yellow helipad.

I know I should be asking more questions about Brazil, but I'm still caught up in the whole, 'My fiancée's idea of a grand romantic gesture is purchasing an entire land mass.'

Despite his protests, I help Luis load my luggage into a waiting SUV, and then we're hurtling through the underbrush of a tropical rainforest.

After a while, we come to a clearing where a neat white cottage sits. "This is where Alma and I stay," Louis says. "If you need anything at all, you call us. We're available twenty-four hours a day."

"Okay." Sure. My island. My staff. Makes perfect sense.

A few hundred yards down the road, the jungle gives way to reveal one of the beaches I saw from the air. Above it sits a stunning contemporary mansion, seemingly built out of glass and stainless steel. It's so beautiful, it takes my breath away.

"It used to belong to a Sultan," Luis says. "He spared no expense in the construction."

"Why did he sell?"

A shadow crosses Luis's face. "He was a superstitious man. Claimed the house was cursed."

"Cursed?"

Luis shrugs. "Every time he stayed there, something bad happened. Personally, I think the man was a little crazy, but at least he sold it to Mr. Quinn for a bargain price."

"Did Liam know about the whole cursed issue?"

"Yes. But I'm sure you know that Mr. Quinn isn't afraid of such things."

True. Liam isn't afraid of much at all. Except clowns, which is totally justified. Clowns are the work of the devil.

"Ready to see your new home for the next few weeks?" Luis asks with a smile as we pull up near the giant front door.

"Sure," I say. My trip has been already so full of unbelievable experiences, might as well add another one to the list.

???

Jesus Harold Christ. You've got to be kidding me.

"Senhorita?"

When I was growing up, I'd often flick through Mom's copies of Home Beautiful. Every time I read the features on the homes of the rich and famous, I couldn't believe the amount of opulence with which some people lived.

"Senhorita Holt?"

Every one of those millionaire playgrounds looked like fixer-uppers compared to this place, with its open plan layout and floating wooden staircases. The entire front of the building is plate glass to make the most of the stunning ocean views. The decor is contemporary but comfortable, and it feels so familiar, I wonder if I’ve seen pictures of it before.

"Senhorita." A warm hand touches my arm, and I turn to see Luis's wife, Alba. She was waiting when we entered the house, and is now staring at me in concern. "You've been standing still for a while. Are you all right?"

I nod. "Sorry, Alba. Just trying to take everything in."

"You like the house?"

"Very much."

"Mr. Quinn thought you would. I can give you a tour if you'd like."

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