Page 54 of Ungodly Rich

“Do you want to call off the London party?” he offered.

“No, of course not.” She smiled as she added, “I should warn you, Abby already bought us tickets to the London landmarks bus tour. My aunt and uncle are far too excited about it.”

“I’ll buy us all some Union Jack flags to wave around,” Harrypromised. When Julia’s smile faltered, he shifted his tone. “Is it the wedding? Because we can slow down the planning.”

“It’s not that….”

“Do you want to change the venue?” Harry kicked his feet restlessly against the climbing wall, making Julia nervous. “Forget what my parents said. If you want a ceremony in your aunt and uncle’s backyard, that’s what we’ll do.”

Months ago, back when Julia and Harry were still staying with his parents, Tara had brought up the wedding venue. Julia had hurried to ask if they could get married in the South, so that it felt more familiar to her—and, more important, to her aunt and uncle.

Aunt Jess and Uncle Daniel could just about handle an opulent wedding in Georgia. But if Tara insisted on somewhere like Lake Como or the south of France, Julia knew they would feel wildly out of place. Honestly, so would she.

“That’s a lovely suggestion,” Tara had said carefully, “but I’m afraid we’ll have a lot of guests from our side. Is there a venue in Marietta that can accommodate us?”

Harry had jumped to Julia’s defense. “What about Sea Island, or Palmetto Bluff? Somewhere not too far from where Julia grew up.”

Tara shook her head. “Not big enough.”

Harry had met his mother’s gaze. There was a meaningful note to his voice as he replied, “Then I guess we’ll have to find somewhere new.”

As it happened, therewassomewhere new—a resort on the coast of Georgia named Ismene Island. The sort of place with twisting palmetto trees and water oaks, with Planter’s Punch cocktails and two golf courses. “As it happens, our hotel group just built the property! Isn’t it a perfect coincidence?” Tara had exclaimed while Julia studied the website. “Yours will be the very first wedding there!”

Julia had agreed without hesitation. It looked beautiful, of course, and was within driving distance of where she’d grown up.

“If a wedding at home is what you’ve always dreamed of, just say the word,” Harry insisted now.

“Home,” Julia repeated, and shook her head. “Harry, Marietta hasn’t felt like home to me in a long time.”

“Then where is home?”

“You,” she said simply. “As long as I’m with you, I’m home. Remember?” It was what he’d told her when he proposed.

“As if I could forget,” Harry said warmly.

Now the words struck Julia in a way they hadn’t before. Harrywasher home. She’d been adrift for so long, living on a cruise ship, watching people come and go from her life without leaving a ripple in their wake. Until she’d met him.

Harry was her safe harbor, the person she wanted to share everything with: good or bad, painful or joyous. Next to her love for him, all her worries evaporated like smoke. And really, what did she have to complain about? An all-expenses-paid trip to London, where her best friend lived? A lavish wedding at a resort that looked like a more picturesque version of the rural Georgia she knew?

Julia nodded down at the gym, which was empty except for the two of them and their belayers. “Should we head down?”

“Loser buys tacos,” Harry agreed.

They didn’t speak much on the descent; it was always harder going down than up. Julia felt herself fall into intense focus, concentrating on her center of gravity, her balance. She was vaguely aware of Harry in her peripheral vision, darting down the wall with preternatural ease. The one time she dared a glance down, she saw that Bianca was staring, too, almost swooning.

Well, Julia couldn’t blame the woman for ogling the perfect lines of Harry’s body. She felt a burst of pride in that moment, that he was hers.

She turned her attention back to the wall, pausing at a particularly tricky section. On the way up, she had braced her hand on a hold and leaned on it, roughly the way you leaned in yoga triangle pose, so that she could swing her other hand higher. Maybe she could try that again.

As she flung her body forward, she heard a sound that no climber ever wants to hear: the sound of rope squealing rapidly through wheels.

“Julia!”Harry shouted.

“Oh god, oh god!” Bianca cried out. Julia didn’t dare look down, though she knew what she would see—the woman scrabbling for a rope that had already slipped out of her hands.

“Stay where you are! I’m coming!” Harry cried out.

Julia couldn’t have moved if she tried. Except that shewasmoving, and not in a good way—one hand gripped the wall, but the other stretched out into midair. Her legs had started to shake. Dimly, she heard the employees on the ground descending into panic.If you hadn’t been busy lusting after my fiancé, you wouldn’t have dropped the rope,Julia wanted to say, but she couldn’t waste energy speaking right now. Every atom of her being was focused on maintaining her increasingly precarious position.