Page 43 of What Doesn't Kill You…

"Mum," Violet said as forcefully as she could without raising her voice. "I can't get into this right now. Please don't make a scene in front of my friends, and my…fiancé. I'll explain everything when we're in private. I promise."

"You'd better," her mother said. "Otherwise, you can kiss goodbye to me not making a scene, because I’ll make a scene that this island will never forget. Am I clear?"

"Yes, mum." She looked over her mother's shoulder to her father. "Hey dad, I promise I'll explain everything later, but can you make sure no one brings up the fact I didn't invite you? My, uh, friends don’t know that you turning up is a surprise."

She glanced at her two teenage nieces. At only thirteen and fourteen, they had a tendency to blurt their every thought. All Violet could do was pray they’d be quiet.

"It seems you're keeping a lot of people in the dark about a lot of different things." Her father's brow furrowed. "You hurt your mother over this. What were you thinking?"

Violet winced. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I was just…" Yeah, she didn't have an explanation. She cast a desperate glance back at Max. Maybe he had something they could use as an excuse. He was good with making stuff up, right? "Dad, please, can we leave this until we're alone? Just the family?"

"Fine," he said, but he wasn't pleased.

Her sister, Jasmine, shoved her way from the back of the group and flew into Violet's arms. "You're getting married!" she hollered. "I'm so excited. I don't even care about us not being invited because we're here anyway! This is going to be awesome."

Violet wished the ground would open up and swallow her. "Yeah, awesome," she muttered. "Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone."

Jasmine hooked her arm through Violet's. "Which one is yours? Tall, dark and Latin, or short, smiley and…I wanna say Australian. He has that look about him."

"First, he isn't short. He's a respectable height. He only looks shorter standing next to Rodrigo. And he's Canadian. His name is Max." She flashed the table what she hoped was an excited smile but suspected it might have looked slightly panicked. Everyone was standing now, smiling back at her in expectation.

Well, except for their prey, Damien. He watched with irritated impatience. And suspicion. Like she'd invented a family to throw him off their scent. Violet wished it was all an invention. At least that would mean she didn't have to deal with her family.

As they approached the table, her two worlds clashed, and Violet suddenly felt lightheaded. She was aware that everyone was comparing her to her family and wondering where she'd come from. It was a reasonable question. While growing up, she'd often wondered if she'd been adopted. The mix of Scottish and Chinese genes in their lineage meant the other females in her family all had wavy auburn hair, and exotic facial features that hinted at a shared heritage.

Meanwhile, Violet was a complete throwback to their Chinese ancestors, with her straight black hair and more pronounced Chinese features. If she hadn't been a replica of her grandmother she'd have started searching for her birth parents decades earlier.

To make matters worse, and enhance the differences between Violet and her family, all of her female relatives had been born with the girly gene. They were makeup obsessed, thought spa visits were a necessity, and drove the men in their family mad with their clothing budgets. Violet, meanwhile, was a connoisseur of cargo pants.

"Hey guys," she said. "This is my family. My grandmother, Lian Ferguson. My mum and dad, Samuel and Rosey Lee. My sister, Jasmine and her husband Harvey, and their two daughters Poppy and Marigold."

She felt particularly self-conscious because Damien Poole was watching with rapt attention. The last thing Violet ever wanted was for her job to throw the people she loved into the path of a psychopath. Yet here she was. The best laid plans…

Jasmine, of course, had to blow the whole polite greeting thing. "I'm so excited to be here. I can't believe my little sister is getting married." She launched herself at Max, who caught her in an amused hug. "Welcome to the family, Max. I honestly thought Vi would never get married. I'm so happy she met you." She turned and beamed at the rest of the family. "Aren't we thrilled?"

"I'd have been a bit more thrilled," her father said, "If I'd had more notice the wedding was happening this weekend." He shot Violet a wry glance. "Do you have any idea how much last-minute flights cost from Glasgow?"

Rosey elbowed her husband's side. "Money isn't important when we're talking about our daughter's wedding." She gave Violet a pointed look. "The most important thing is that we're all together now. As it should be."

Oh, yeah, her mum was never going to let this one go.

"Plus," Harvey said, beaming through his bushy red beard, "don't forget she saved you a fortune by eloping to the Caribbean. In my book, you're ahead on this deal."

"Harvey!" Jasmine reprimanded while their daughters giggled.

Violet felt herself blush. This was beyond disaster. She didn't even have a word for this situation.

"Let me introduce my friends," she said over the laughter. "Rodrigo and Katrina, and this is Max Durant, my fiancé." She was really proud she didn't stumble over the word, but she did check the sky to see if lightning was about to strike her. There wasn't even a threatening cloud.

Max shook hands with her family and didn't seem to be the least bit bothered that they made no secret about sizing him up while he did it.

"What do you do for a living, son?" her father asked, cutting to the chase.

Violet stifled a groan and fought the sudden, and inexplicable, urge to apologize for her father. Samuel Lee lived up to the tactless Scot cliché, proudly telling anyone who listened that his one Chinese grandfather hadn’t stood a chance of introducing polite behavior into the clan.

"I'm a journalist, sir," Max said.

"And how exactly did you two meet?" her mother asked, maneuvering directly in front of Max. "Violet was a little unclear on the details." She gave Violet a pointed look and she could practically hear her mother's voice in her head saying, "any details at all."