Page 130 of The Temporary Fiancée
“It rings a bell,” I say. “I think I’ve heard it in a movie, or something.”
He laughs at that. “Probably. It’s in the Caribbean.”
At JFK, Reed’s driver doesn’t take us to the terminal, like I was expecting. He drives straight to the tarmac, where we’re greeted by an impressive, streamlined jet. I follow Reed out of the car and straight onto the stairs to board the plane.
It’s every bit as luxurious in the cabin as it is in The Luxe. Almost as soon as we take our seats, the plane is taxiing; we’re in the air within ten minutes, and for the entire flight, we kick back and sip champagne.
I try to pester him for details about this vacation—what’s our itinerary? Where are we staying? But he remains tight-lipped, smiling secretively as he watches the clouds outside the windows.
The flight lasts around three and a half hours, and the instant we land, a car is waiting to pick us up.
The air is warm, much warmer than it was in New York; as we descended over the runway, I got a gorgeous view of a white-sand beach and azure sea. I can smell the ocean in the air, too—it’s fresh and salty, and the sea breeze plays with my loose hair.
I’m flabbergasted. I didn’t think he had the capacity to shock me anymore—I mean, I’ve been living in The Luxe for so long, I thought I knew what the deal was. But this… this is something else.
It’s the most aware of his wealth I’ve ever been. From the plane, to the cars, to the private gate the driver takes us to… he’s clearly spoiling me.
In my wildest dreams, I might have imagined staying at a resort, or in a fancy, beachside hotel. Apparently, my wildest dreams aren’t wild enough.
We’re staying in a private, secluded villa. The mansion is huge, and we have it all to ourselves. I drop my bags in the hallway, gaping around at the artwork on the walls and the modern decor.
It’s designed just like the penthouse at The Luxe, except that the floor plan is even more open. The main living area doesn’t even have walls; it opens right up to the deck, leaving the air fresh inside. Even though the interior design is minimalist, everything still has a distinctly tropical flavor, from the splashes of color in the artwork to the potted palms around the place.
“You want to explore a little bit before we unpack?” Reed says, smiling.
I nod, then make my way from the foyer into the huge living area, past the cream-white couches and the massive flatscreen. Out on the deck there’s a beautiful infinity pool that gives way to the cerulean ocean.
It’s almost sunset, and the sky is pale, the sun low over the waves. The light gleams over the water. It’s the most incredible view I’ve ever seen.
I stand on the deck, speechless, staring out at the sea. A gentle breeze warms my face, carrying the scents of the ocean. It’s close enough that I’m certain there’s a beach nearby.
When he comes up behind me, he confirms my suspicions. “There’s a path that leads down to a private beach,” he says casually, flopping down on one of the deck chairs and crossing his feet—already relaxed. “So if you feel like taking a dip in the ocean, go for it.”
“This is unreal,” I say, blinking. “This place isstunning.”
He gives a little shrug and hums nonchalantly, but I can see the gleam in his eyes.
I’m struck by a sudden rush of excitement—I’m on vacation. I haven’t been on vacation inyears,and never in my life have I been somewhere as beautiful as this. I want to live it up. I want to enjoy every single second of this.
“Can we go swimming?” I ask eagerly. “This pool is calling my name.”
“Sure,” he says, laughing. “Let’s do it.”
We change into bathing suits, and I tentatively stick a toe in the clear water. It’s not as cold as I was afraid it would be, warmed by the constant sun. I swim out to the pool’s infinity edge and fold my arms, staring out at the ocean. It’s so peaceful that I actually let out an involuntary, contented sigh.
Then I feel Reed’s hands on my waist. I didn’t hear him coming; he moved through the water so silently. Giggling, I turn toward him and splash him in the face, soaking his hair.
“Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?” He gives me a mischievous grin, swatting the surface of the water until I’m drenched, too. Then he brushes the wet hair out of my eyes, and, just like that, I’m drawn into a kiss.
Reed’s tongue slides into my mouth, and the satisfied groan he lets out vibrates against my lips.
“Nowthisis a great way to start a vacation.”
I smile against his mouth. “What is?”
The setting sun catches in his eyes, the warm amber light behind him turning his skin gold. I run my hands down his arms, my palms skimming over the water beads that cling to his skin. He looks ridiculous like this, all wet hair and bare chest and that lazy half-smile.
“This,” he answers. “Being in the pool with you. Kissing you instead of doing literally anything else.”
