I step to my desk, where my notepad sits, the page blank. I’ve tried a dozen times to do as Nathan asked, and write down my demands, to spell out what it would take for me to stay in this life.
I know what I really want. To sleep in bed at night next to Nathan. To have the Nathan who comes out when the cameras are on us—his loving smile, soft hands, mischievous grin and playful stories. I want to spend my evenings with him, side by side on the couch, my head in his lap, his hands in my hair, quiet moments that we both would treasure.
But I can’t put those demands down on paper. I can’t show my cards, especially not when it’s a losing hand. The worst-case scenario is for him to give me all of that, while his heart is still Cecile’s. My heart wouldn’t be able to resist, would fall down a long dark hole that it would never be able to climb out of.
CHAPTER 42
“Ready?” Nathan settles in across from me, pulling the seat belt across his lap. I nod, and he calls out to the pilot, stretching his long legs forward as he settles in.
“I am. Thanks for pushing back the flight.” Originally, we’d planned to leave this morning, but I’d had a sudden and frantic desire to see my father. I’d sped the entire drive to Crestridge, and had gotten in a full two hours with him before he was sleeping and I was headed back to the house. Now, we’re flying to Fort Lauderdale, where we’ll have lunch and fuel up, then continue on to Nassau.
“No problem. It gave me some time to knock out some work items. I needed to scout out a lot anyway. It’s a hotel site downtown. Next week, if you are up for it, I’d love to get your take on it.” He speaks so freely now, his cold demeanor warmed to an impressive 98.6 degrees. Human.
I smile at the observation, reaching into my bag and pulling out a water bottle.
“What?” He leans forward. “That smile is worrisome.”
“Worrisome?” I laugh. “It’s just weird. How quickly you become normal. You were so unfriendly before.”
He frowns, adjusting his suit jacket, and smoothing down the lapels. “Like I told you, I didn’t want you to get the wrong impression. I wanted to be sure you were aware what our relationship was about.”
“Sex.”
“Well … sex, and your new identity. But, as you know, we had planned on keeping that part from you.” He says the words with a hint of an apology—not quite remorseful about his actions, but regretful of the deceit.
“And now, you feel comfortable with me? With me understanding that relationship?”
His blue eyes study my face, his shoulders relaxing at my calm demeanor. “Yes. I’m assuming, now that you know about Cecile, that you understand my … inability to give anything more.”
Cecile. I am really beginning to hate that bitch. I sigh. “So, tell me the plan.”
It doesn’t take him long to tell me, mostly because it is ridiculously simplistic. Originally, when I was to be kept in the dark, Nathan planned on taking me into the bank, with the pretense of opening a joint account in our names—presenting it as a token of goodwill. The paperwork would be simple, a registration card for the account, showing both of our names. I would sign, never knowing that, instead of adding both of our names to a new account, I was adding Nathan’s name to a pre-existing account, one with a cool fifty million inside.
Now that I am aware of the con, the new plan is to do a simple funds transfer, from his sister’s account to Nathan’s. They will ask for identification, I will present mine, and everything should be done in a matter of minutes.
“Will there be any paparazzi?”
“Only in certain places. Mark’s hired them for some restaurants and resort locations, so we can manipulate those occasions.” He takes a tight curve on the road, looking over as he drives. “Are you comfortable with that? Being photographed with me?”
“You mean, as a ploy to get Cecile’s attention? Yes, I am fine with that.” I lean back, curling up against the seat and closing my eyes, keeping my face peaceful. I don’t want any part in aiding a reunion between this man and Cecile. But, when he is acting, when he is playing to the cameras and grinning and leaning into me, planting soft kisses and holding my hand—that is heaven. And even if it is fake, even if it is for another woman, I’ll take it.
CHAPTER 43
Our plane touches down on a tiny runway, the line at customs crowded with antsy vacationers. It takes over an hour to get through, a bored Bahamian stamping my crisp new passport with barely a glance.
The limo, sent from the Atlantis Resort, is laughable—a decade old Lincoln with worn seats, ripped carpet, and a back window held together by a strip of duct tape. I shoot Nathan a worried look and he grins, placing a gentle hand on my back and guiding me in to the car. “Don’t worry,” he says. “These guys are subcontractors for the resort. It will get better.”
And it does. From the two hundred foot yachts cozied up outside of the towering casino walls to the gold columns, arched ceilings, and hand-painted murals decorating the lobby walls. We take the scenic route down to the pool deck, walking through a stone cavern of fish tanks, giant manta rays traveling alongside us. I try to contain my glee, to maintain an air of aloof snobbery, but fail miserably, shrieking with excitement as a shark swims by, and gasping at the beautiful actions of glowing jellyfish.
We cross a rope bridge over lazy hammerhead sharks, and when my feet sink into warm white sand, a tropical paradise of perfect blue green water before me, I can’t help the grin that stretches over my face, taking up every square inch of real estate. I wrap my arms around Nathan’s neck, catching him by surprise, my lips pressing exuberantly to him, his mouth widening into a smile beneath mine.
“You like?” he whispers.
“I love,” I shoot back, jumping up and wrapping my legs tightly around him, my momentum knocking him off balance and taking us down to the ground, my mouth pestering him for another kiss, his laugh catching us both off guard and giving me full access to his mouth.
The moment changes, heating up, his hands traveling down, roughly gripping my sundress-covered ass and pulling me against his body, the line of his arousal suddenly stiff against me.
The click of lenses is what pulls us out of the moment. He rolls with me, sitting up on his knees, gently brushing sand off of me and offering me a hand. I accept, and he pulls me up and in for one more kiss, a playful smile on his lips. “Let’s go to the room,” he says hoarsely, his eyes darkening. “I need you. Now.”
And we run, sandy flip flops slapping against bare rock, my smile lasting through two elevators, one long ass hallway, and onto the giant bed in our luxurious penthouse suite.
CHAPTER 44
“Another beer?”