Page 44 of Scandalous Secrets

That was why I was determined to make my marriage with Veronica work, even though deep down I knew it was doomed to fail. My father advised me to get the marriage annulled. Call it a drunken mistake of passion and move on. But I wanted to prove him wrong. Prove that I could see something through. Years later, I still ended up proving him right when I filed for divorce.

He was surprisingly relieved when I broke the news. He had been waiting with bated breath for me to cut ties with Veronica, saying she was only in it for the money and was tarnishing my reputation with her partying and suspected infidelity with a certain photographer.

Because of this, I knew if I let him know how she was hounding me lately, he would understand my need to get away. Kathy would back me up, since she was witness to Veronica’s incessantness this morning. I hadn’t heard from him yet, but then again, my phone was off and I planned to keep it off for the rest of the weekend. I just wanted to focus on Monica.

The jet rumbled as it began its journey down the runway, picking up speed as it went. I noticed Monica clutching the armrests, her knuckles turning white as she looked out the window.

“Hey,” I said softly.

She tore her eyes from the window as the airport blurred past us.

“You’re okay,” I assured her. “I’m right here.”

She gave me a smile and seemed to sink a little more comfortably in her seat. The jet began to rise in the air slowly and soon we were in the sky and Monica’s grip on the seat had loosened as she let out a slow sigh of relief.

“Champagne?” I asked Monica, gesturing to the bottle.

“Sure,” she said.

I wrapped my hand around the cold foil of the bottle, pulled it from the ice, and carefully popped the cork. I poured two generous glasses, careful to not let the bubbles spill over the edge. I handed her a glass.

“To our weekend getaway,” I said, holding up my glass.

“Cheers,” she said, clinking her glass to mine.

I watched as her lips wrapped around the edge of her glass just as the sweet bubbles danced down my throat. My God, she was beautiful. Sexy without even trying. I wasn’t sure how I was going to last this three-hour flight sitting across from her and not burying myself inside her. It’s not like I hadn’t fucked on this very plane before, but I couldn’t with her. For the next three hours, she was off-limits.

I put my desires aside and we sipped on our champagne, talking a little about business. A little about each other. I was learning more about her, and her writing. I was intrigued by her talent. Though not much of a reader, I was turned on by her success as an author. She had built her own empire and fanbase. It was nothing short of impressive. I wondered why she was working for me and not writing, but I didn’t want to press her. It was hard enough to drag out her writing career.

Thankfully, she didn’t drag anything out of me either. She didn’t bring up Veronica, even though I was sure she wondered who she was. I wasn’t ready to tell her I had been married and divorced. Instead, I told her a little bit more about the dynamic with my father and the pressures of running the firm. She listened intently, and it felt good to talk to someone who didn’t judge.

I felt like it was the first time we had really talked, rather than fucked. I knew that wasn’t something to be proud of, but it was something I was used to with previous flings. For some reason, I was comfortable with Monica. The three-hour flight ended up going faster than I expected, despite the little bit of torture I was internally enduring from not being able to take off that black dress.

When we landed in Nassau, another town car waited for us. Once our small amount of luggage was put in the trunk, we began our short drive to Paradise Island. The sun hung low in the sky as we gazed out at the water we drove alongside, Monica leaning slightly over me to get a better view, which I gladly welcomed. Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to the large iron gates that enclosed my house.

I leaned out the window and entered the code. Soon, the gates slowly opened, revealing the sprawling driveway that curved down to the two-story house with white pillars. I heard Monica suck in a quiet breath next to my ear, loosening the tight grip on the façade that she wasn’t impressed by any of this.

“Wait until you see the beach,” I said with a sly smile.

She nudged me with her shoulder and rolled her eyes as the car rumbled down the driveway, parking in front of the house that towered above us. I quickly tipped the driver after he unloaded the trunk, wanting him to get out of here as soon as possible. Once he was gone, that meant it was just us two. Alone. The one thing I had been craving.

As I watched the driver disappear beyond the iron gates, I grabbed Monica’s hand and pulled her to follow me along the side of the house, leaving our bags on the front steps.

“Where are we going?” she asked, a sense of excitement in her voice as she tried to keep up.

“You’ll see,” I answered.

Soon, we had curved along the house and were standing before the white sand beach sprawled out in front of us. The turquoise water lapped gently against the secluded shore. There weren’t houses for a mile on either side of us, making it seem as if the entire coast was ours for the taking.

“Wow,” breathed Monica, stopping abruptly beside me, but not letting go of my hand.

I watched as she took in the view, the sea breeze combing through her hair gently as the last of the sun cast a golden glow on the smooth skin of her face. My view was better as I looked upon her, even as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting pink and purple hues throughout the entire cloudless sky.

“Care for a dip?” I asked, looking toward the water.

“Now?” she asked in surprise.

“Yes, now.”

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