Page 383 of The Black Trilogy

“Fidgeting. Here, take the wheel instead. You need to learn how to drive this beast, because I’m not doing all the work.”

It seemed Black was getting back to his old pushy self, and that made my heart sing. I twisted around and kissed him softly on the lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mrs. Black.”

Two hours later, Black slowed the boat as we approached a small island. A harbour with a wooden jetty lay straight ahead of us, a single boat bobbing gently in the current. Not a yacht, just a small runabout that had seen better days.

Long white beaches stretched out on either side, backed by lush vegetation, and three hills rose in the centre. What was this place? A resort? Apart from a hut on the beach, I could only see one building, a large white house nestled in a dip near the top of the highest hill.

Where were all the people?

“It’s beautiful,” I breathed. “Are we staying here tonight?”

“We’re staying here until we decide to go home. It’s called Lorelei Cay.”

Wow. I’d never seen anywhere quite so idyllic. Or so deserted. “Did you rent the whole island?”

“No.”

A sigh threatened to escape, but I stopped it. The selfish part of me wanted Black and the island all to myself, but I’d have to live with it and share the island part. It looked pretty quiet, anyway, and we also had the boat if we wanted to hide out.

“I bought it,” Black said.

“Sorry, you did what?”

“This place. I bought it.”

“You bought a freaking island?”

“We both had big birthdays coming up. You were about to hit thirty, and I’ll be forty soon. So I decided to buy us something special. I was going to bring you here for your real birthday last December.”

That was it. I burst into tears.

“What’s the matter?” His arms tightened around me. “Emmy, what’s wrong? Do you hate it? I can always sell it again.”

“No,” I blubbed. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I’m just so freaking happy.”

He angled my face towards him. “Then why are you crying? You never cry.”

“I don’t flipping know.”

Black chuckled and wiped my tears away with his thumbs. I liked this new, tender side of him.

An elderly black man in a pair of Bermuda shorts and a worn T-shirt emerged from the trees near the jetty, and I made an effort to stop leaking and help Black to moor the boat instead. A quick hop up the gangplank, and Black introduced us.

“Emmy, this is Wilson. He and his wife are the caretakers here.”

I shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Wilson.”

“It’s good to finally meet you too, ma’am.”

“Emmy, please.”

“Emmy. I’ll take care of the boat, ma’am. You and Mr. Black go take a look at this beautiful island.”

Black led me along a path through the trees. Yes, I could definitely get used to this hand-holding thing.

“Last time I came here, this was more of an animal track,” he said. “They had to widen it when they renovated the villa.”

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