She drew in a long, unsteady breath, hoping the burn in her throat would subside. “Seven thousand miles and I still can’t get beyond the debacle I walked away from last year. I haven’t done anything wrong, but I’m the one on the defensive, and I’m forced into interactions I didn’t invite. All I wanted was a fresh start.”

A warm, strong hand uncurled her fist from the blanket. “I can help.”

The offer meant a lot. For one, it meant he believed her, and the show of support steadied her more than it should. She shook her head. “No. This is my problem. I don’t want to pull you in.”

“You didn’t. Cindy made it St. Sebastian’s problem when she sent inappropriate emails to you using her work account. We terminated her employment today, and agreed to pay severance in the form of salary continuation for twelve weeks provided she never contacts you again. You need to let me know immediately if she fails to honor the terms.”

“Oh, Jesus.” He already had his hands full with Las Ventanas. The last thing he needed was another issue. “I’m sorry—”

“I’m not.” He threaded his fingers through hers. “Not about that, at any rate. She needed to go. It was only a question of time, and she resolved the question for us.” He paused and looked her in the eye. “I am sorry about my behavior Tuesday night. I felt like hell, and I took it out on you. I owe you an apology.”

The sincerity of his words soothed away her hurt feelings. They also made her face heat, because she couldn’t help thinking about the last time he’d apologized to her. She looked down at their linked hands. “No apology necessary.”

“I disagree.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I look forward to earning your forgiveness.” The heat in her cheeks spread like wildfire. Apparently they weren’t at odds anymore, but she probably looked pretty…uh…unforgiveable at the moment. “N-now?”

He laughed, leaned in, and kissed her forehead. “You’re beautiful, but I meant later, when you’re feeling better. I need you at full strength to offer you a proper apology. In the meantime, the least I can do is feed you. What sounds appetizing?”

“I didn’t realize you knew how to cook.”

“I know how to use a phone.”

“Room service is hard to come by on my side of the island.”

“I also know how to drive a car. What are you in the mood for?”

They settled on takeout from a local deli, and she told herself she’d shower while he went to pick up their order. But when he left, her momentum faded. The peaceful silence, broken only by the gentle lullaby of the neighbor’s wind chime, dulled her ambition.

The next time she opened her eyes pale fingers of dawn pried around the edge of the curtain. A note sat on her nightstand, beside a shiny red apple.

To keep the doctor away. See you soon. Rafe.

“What are you doing Friday night? I need a date to the Las Ventanas re-launch party.” Passengers filed through the first class cabin. Rafe nodded at the “five minute” signal from the flight attendant and fastened his seat belt.

“I don’t think you can call it a date if you bring me,” Arden said. “Since when do you have any trouble finding a real date?”

His sister usually steered clear of St. Sebastian events. She disliked the “hotel heiress” stigma the press had tried to foist on her from an early age, and avoided playing to it, but she’d go if he asked. “My first choice was unavailable.” Unwilling, to be precise, and the fact still burned in his gut. The odds of convincing her to extend their arrangement beyond the close of the deal looked slim given he couldn’t even convince her to go on a public date with him.

“And your second choice? And third, for that matter? I think your bench goes deeper than first choice, and then boom, little sister.”

Leave it to Arden to turn a simple request into a character assassination. “You’re my second choice. I thought it would be nice to spend the evening with my sibling. At least I did, until this call.”

“Who was your first choice?”

“None of your business.” Not subtle, but subtlety never worked on Arden.

“Somebody new.”

Neither, apparently, did rudeness. But her observation piqued his curiosity. “What makes you say that?”

“You’re not attached to any of the priors. You’d just call the next eligible bachelorette on your list if the first one couldn’t make it. But this one’s not interchangeable. You want her or nobody at all.”

“Should I refer to you as nobody from now on?”

“You’re asking me because you don’t want to take a real date.”

He scowled. “I’m asking you because I made an error in judgment two minutes ago.”

“Ha. You’ve gone exclusive, whether by intention or default. It’s the deal liaison, isn’t it?”

Rafe nearly dropped his phone. As a major stakeholder in St. Sebastian Enterprises, Arden had a high-level awareness of the Tradewinds deal, but there was no way she knew about Chelsea. And he wanted to keep it like that for the time being.

“Dad told me you refused to follow his advice and pull out of the deal because you had a thing for the woman assigned to facilitate the sale. He used a bit more French in his version, but—”

“I can only imagine.” He could. All too clearly. So much for the discretion he’d promised Chelsea. He had his father questioning his judgment—nothing new there—and his sister speculating on his love life. “My flight leaves soon. Can we please focus on the matter at hand, Arden. Friday?”

“Will you buy me something pretty to wear?”

A sharp pain stabbed him in the vicinity of his credit card. Arden loved to shop. She could spend hours, and thousands, at a Tijuana flea market or a couture salon on the Champs Elysees. Then again, she was doing him a favor. The least he could do was pay for a dress…shoes…probably an evening bag…jewelry. Christ, he should just write her a blank check. “Yes, dear. Anything your little heart desires, as long as I don’t have to be there when it happens.”

Her laugh bounced over the line, along with a parting shot. “I love her already.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Feb. 12

10:15 a.m.

Chelsea,

We’ve had a run on the glow-in-the-dark condoms. The supplier has them on back-order and says six weeks at the earliest. Do you have an emergency stash?

Thx.

Lynette.

Chelsea typed Lynette directions to the extra supply she’d set aside for just such emergencies. Crisis averted. She climbed out of her car, holding her phone in one hand and the envelope containing the new easement agreement, signed and dated in triplicate by the MILC representative, in the other. Feeling triumphant, she put the envelope safely in her purse and dialed Laurie’s number. When her best friend picked up, Chelsea said, “Hey Babycakes, my bonus is back on track.”

“Woo-hoo!”

Chelsea grinned, held the phone away from her ear and waited for the party on the other end of the line to subside. “Better still, I’ll be in Montenido day after tomorrow.”

“You’re right. That is even better. When do you arrive? We need to celebrate.”

“I arrive at LAX tomorrow evening, but I’ll stay in L.A. the first night to have dinner with the Templetons, get their signatures on the agreements, and also discuss the plan for my transition to Tradewinds Tahiti. Then I drive to Las Ventanas to give Rafe the signature versions of the documents. After that, my contribution is pretty much over, so I’m taking three days off to spend in Montenido.” And three nights with Rafe…maybe her last nights with him. She pushed the thought behind a barricade at the back of her mind. She’d think about that later.

“Let’s get together as soon as you’re in Montenido. There’s something I want to show you.”