Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 86826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I can’t help that I’m slightly disappointed that I’m not the first woman he’s brought here, but I tell myself that’s ridiculous.
His mouth curves slightly. “How about you?”
“Nope, no guests to my Bahamian retreat,” I say with a smile.
“Ha-ha. You know what I mean. Do you date a lot?”
I hesitate, then shrug lightly, keeping it honest. “No one worth naming a boat after.”
He doesn’t smile at my teasing, nor does he reveal who the mysterious Kylie is. “Come on,” he says, gesturing toward the yacht. “Let me show you.”
I follow him because whatever questions are sitting beneath the surface, whatever curiosity is tugging at me… for now, I let it stay there, not fully explored.
But it remains, floating and only partly visible, just like the yacht in front of us.
Chapter 19
Julian
We’re out on the water until late afternoon. This is the Bahamas to me—salt on our skin, the sun lingering, warm on our shoulders, the waves crashing like a lullaby.
Once we’re back on dry land, Harper walks just ahead of me, barefoot, shoes dangling from her fingers, her hair loose and wind tossed. She pauses at the villa terrace, turning back toward the ocean.
“Is it always like this?” she asks.
“Like what?”
She gestures toward the horizon, the sun dipping low. “Like one long dream you never get tired of.”
“It is,” I say. “But most people stop noticing.”
Her eyes come back to me. “Have you?”
“I think I did,” I admit. “For quite a long time, actually.”
“But not anymore?”
“Now I have you pointing it out again.” And I’m so happy about that.
Inside the villa, she moves less cautiously. She experiences every little detail. Most people in my world filter everything out or fake their reactions. Harper does neither.
“You’re thinking,” she says.
“Always.”
“That a good thing?”
“Usually.”
She studies me. “That didn’t sound convincing.”
“It depends what I’m thinking about.” I hold her gaze. “I’m deciding if I’ve been underutilizing this place… or just looking at it the wrong way.”
“Where are you landing?”
“I think it’s the latter.”
She doesn’t answer but rather files it away, the way she does everything.
“Come here.” I usher her to the patio area. The table is set at the edge overlooking the ocean. It’s my favorite view in this place.
“Julian…,” she says. “This is perfect.”
“It’s just dinner,” I say.
She laughs softly. “You say that like this is normal.”
“Come on, let’s sit and eat. I’m starving and you must be too.”
She moves to the table. I take my seat across from her.
“I should change, freshen up. This is so nice, and I must look like a wreck. Traveling can do a number on me.”
“You couldn’t look better, Harper.” And the realization settles in, quiet but undeniable. I don’t just want to be here. I want to be here with her.
“Thank you, but could I just put on a dry outfit? It’ll only take a couple minutes, promise.”
I smile and motion for her to go change. She does, returning in a devastating black dress five minutes later.
As we begin dinner, I reach into my pocket and feel the small box there, bow still affixed properly, and I realize that I’m looking forward to this with an excitement I usually reserve for playoff time.
I set my glass of Merlot down and slide the box across the table toward her, watching the flicker of curiosity cross her face. “Before we start,” I say, unable to keep the hint of anticipation from my voice.
Her eyes move from me to the box and back again. “Julian…What is th—”
“Just open it.”
Everything in her stills before she slowly opens the box and carefully handles the five-carat diamond earrings.
She looks up at me like she doesn’t trust what she’s seeing. “Julian… I—these are…”
“It’s Christmas,” I say quietly. “A time for giving gifts.”
Her gaze drops back to the earrings, her fingers hovering above them like she’s afraid to touch for fear of dimming the sparkle. “These are real… real diamonds,” she murmurs
“They are.”
A soft, incredulous laugh escapes her, and she shakes her head slowly. “I can’t accept these.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I can’t, these are too—”
“You lost one of your earrings at the game,” I remind her, leaning back slightly, keeping it conversational. “It was—is—my responsibility to replace them.”
Her eyes lift to me. “That earring I lost was not a diamond.”
“I’m aware.”
She stares at me for a beat, trying to reconcile the logic.
“So,” I add, the faintest hint of a smile pulling at my mouth, “the replacement is.”
“They’re beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking, actually.”
“They are,” I say, though my attention hasn’t left her. “Put them on.”
I watch as she takes out her small gold hoops and replaces them. I can’t help but stare at her. She looks like a goddess, with her sun-kissed skin and sparkling diamonds.
“Okay,” she says slowly. “I have a gift for you too.”
“You do?”
She nods, already pushing back from the table. “Stay here.”
I watch her disappear into the villa.