Page 70 of The Ex Factor

“I hope you are impressed. Let the records show that I’m whisking you away in style.”

“Well, you’ve definitely done that. Impress me, that is,” he said, and I looked away to hide the flush in my cheeks.

Sujit was asleep a few minutes after take-off but I wasn’t that fortunate. Pulling out my laptop, I looked at the documents the office had sent me. It included proposals for several new properties in Brooklyn and upscale Queens. The office had sent me the numbers and their recommendations, and Dad was counting on me to make the final decision. I remained buried deep in the numbers until the captain announced that we were ready for descent.

It had taken us just under four hours to get to St. Martin. It promised radiant waters and pristine beaches, but we’d have to wait until morning to experience the beauty. A car awaited us and soon we were on the way. I powered down the window slightly to enjoy the gentle roar of the waves as we drove along.

The staff was at the beach house, awaiting our arrival. It was huge, with three large bedrooms and a spacious open lounging area. I directed the man escorting us to put my bags in one of the bedrooms facing the ocean and Sujit’s in the adjoining one. After making sure we had everything we needed, they drove off in golf carts toward the château to bring us dinner.

When I strolled into the lounge, I caught Sujit looking out at the dark sea with a gentle ripple of a smile across his lips.

“That smile is the exact reason I’ve brought you here,” I said, flopping on a sturdy cane couch with plush cushions. “It’s perfect, isn’t it?”

“It is paradise,” he said.

He came around the couch and sat on a chaise facing me, then slipped out of his shoes and socks and into the slippers that were kept ready for us.

My gaze inadvertently darted toward his bare feet. I didn’t remember seeing him barefoot before. He always wore socks with his house shoes, and even at his family home, he wore socks with his clogs. The sight of those runner’s feet, the long, shapely toes trimmed and cared for professionally, awakened a primal instinct inside me. I found myself dreaming about those feet against my bare skin. Those toes slipping up my naked calf, my exposed thigh, up my waist….

“Maybe I’ll freshen up before dinner,” I said and vanished into the bedroom.

He simply nodded and got back up to walk to the window and continue gazing out at the sea.

I heard the faint clink of silverware outside. The staff was already setting the table. I quickly changed into a linen dress and refreshed my perfume.

To keep my mind off my proximity to Sujit, I focused on the delicious food prepared meticulously by the staff. But I could keep neither my mind nor my eye off his magnificent face as he savored the glazed salmon with rice and roasted vegetables. When he suddenly looked up at me from over the rim of his glasses, I looked away.

“Everything is perfect, Aarti. Thank you for giving me my day at the beach. I hope there is a hammock.”

“There is. Right on the soft sand by the water.” I felt a sense of pride and joy coursing through me.

When the staff cleared up and left, we settled by the windows with a gentle breeze drifting in. I had offered him a scotch from Mary Beth’s excellent selection, but he stepped over to her wine collection instead. Curious, I walked over and stood beside him. The walk-in cellar had a fridge in one corner, and I found Sujitstanding before it. If the beach house had this kind of collection, I wondered how big of a wine cellar the château had and how many wines it housed.

Sujit picked up two bottles, one in each hand, studying them as if he were trying to solve a major mathematical conundrum. For me, the solution was simple. One was red, one white. There was no decision to be made. I watched him with fascination, wondering why he was considering the options. I peeked over his shoulder to see the labels. One was a Tawny Port, the other a Moscato d’Asti. Both were too sweet for my taste. I preferred a light Reisling or an elegant Gewürztraminer, but I reserved my opinion.

Sujit eyed me, trying to read my expressions. I only returned a smile. He put the Port back in its spot and pulled out another white from the refrigerator. A Passito this time.

“Now?” he asked, and a hearty chuckle emanated from my throat, accompanied by a fear that caused my heart to thud.

He could read my feelings just from the smile on my face. Why couldn’t I have met this man sooner? Before the whole debacle that seemed to have defined my current existence. Before we became tagged with the memories of our exes. It would have been so simple.

I pointed to the effervescent Moscato d’Asti. He nodded and put the amber Passito back.

I let out a silent sigh just as a knock sounded at the door.

“Ah, it’s here,” Sujit said and started toward the door.

AARTI

When I reached the lounge, a staff member stood outside with a covered platter.

Sujit spoke to him in French. He stepped inside, placed the platter on the small round table by the windows, and stepped over to the glassware cabinet. He returned with two white wine glasses and two small plates. As he placed dessert spoons next to the plates on the table, I stood beside Sujit, wondering when he had the chance to arrange for it all.

The man uncorked the bottle and asked Sujit if we wanted him to pour us the wine. At least, that’s what I inferred. I didn’t understand French.

Finally, after Sujit had offered an elegantmerci—in a way that made me wet to my core—the staff member retreated and closed the door behind him.

We were now alone with a chilled bottle of wine and a mysterious platter covered with an opaque dome.

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