Page 14 of Vacation with the Ice Queen

"I highly doubt this island has any concept of what I need." Serena settled into the passenger seat, her posture as perfect in the small vehicle as it would be in a boardroom. The subtle dismissal in her tone would have intimidated many, but Lila recognized it as the defensive maneuver it was.

"Perhaps not yet," she conceded, taking the driver's position. "But we have two weeks to figure it out together."

As the cart hummed to life, Lila noticed Serena's hand move instinctively to her pocket, likely seeking a phone that had already been surrendered. The small gesture of disconnection—reaching for technology that wasn't there—revealed morevulnerability than any expression on her carefully controlled face.

They began the descent toward the eastern side of the island, the path winding through flowering hibiscus and fragrant gardenia bushes. Lila deliberately kept her pace unhurried, allowing the natural beauty to speak for itself rather than pointing out features like a tour guide. Beside her, Serena remained silent, her attention apparently focused on the illicit tablet she had extracted from her carry-on bag despite the bumpy ride.

"The villa has a dedicated satellite connection for necessary communications," Lila mentioned casually. "Limited, but secure. Your assistant arranged it specifically."

Serena's fingers paused momentarily on the screen. "Thoughtful of her."

The simple acknowledgment of Nicole's consideration offered a tiny opening, a hairline crack in the professional façade. Lila filed the observation away: despite her reputation for detachment, Serena recognized and valued competence in others.

They rounded a final curve, and the villa came into view, its clean lines complementing rather than competing with the spectacular ocean backdrop. Lila observed Serena's reaction from her peripheral vision, noting the subtle lifting of her gaze from the tablet—momentary appreciation quickly suppressed, but present nonetheless.

"Your home for the next two weeks," Lila announced as she parked the cart beside the stone steps. "The most private accommodation on the island, with both sunrise and sunset views."

"It appears adequate." Serena closed her tablet, sliding it back into her bag as she assessed the villa with thesame analytical attention she'd given everything else. "Though excessive for a single occupant."

"Space to breathe is part of the experience," Lila replied, retrieving the luggage. "Sometimes thoughts need room to expand before they can find clarity."

The observation earned her another glance from those penetrating blue eyes. "You sound like the mindfulness books HR departments distribute after budget cuts. All sentiment, minimal substance."

The barb might have stung someone less secure, but Lila recognized it as reflexive rather than personal—a test of boundaries and character disguised as dismissal. She responded with a genuine, warm laugh.

"I promise to keep the platitudes to a minimum if you'll consider that some sentiments become clichés precisely because they contain elements of truth."

For the briefest moment, something resembling surprise crossed Serena's features—perhaps at the lack of defensiveness, perhaps at the gentle pushback. She recovered quickly, but Lila caught the microexpression with a practiced eye.

"A conditional arrangement," Serena noted as they ascended the steps to the villa's entrance. "Very well. I'll reserve judgment on Solara Island's philosophical offerings pending evidence of their validity."

Lila smiled at the executive's formal language—a reminder that beneath the formidable reputation and carefully controlled exterior was a woman who processed the world through analysis and evidence. Not an adversary to be overcome or a problem to be solved, but a person navigating life through the tools that had served her.

"That's all I ask," Lila replied, opening the door to welcome Serena into her temporary sanctuary. "An open mind, even if skeptically so."

As they crossed the threshold together, Lila felt the familiar sense of beginning that accompanied each new client relationship—the potential pathways stretching before them, some leading to transformation, others to resistance. Which route Serena would choose remained to be seen, but the journey had officially begun.

The island had much to offer this wounded soul disguised as an impenetrable executive. Whether she would accept those offerings was the question that hung in the air between them, unasked but pivotal to everything that would follow.

3

SERENA

Serena stood in the center of the villa's main room, taking inventory with the same methodical precision she'd use to evaluate a potential acquisition. The space opened around her—all clean lines and ocean views, designed to blur the boundary between inside and out. A ridiculous concept, in her opinion. Boundaries existed for a reason.

"The kitchen is fully stocked," Lila explained, moving through the space with the easy familiarity of someone completely at home in her own skin. "The chef can prepare whatever you'd like or you're welcome to make your own meals."

Serena made a noncommittal sound, running her finger along the edge of the countertop. Not a speck of dust. At least their housekeeping met her standards.

She moved to the dining table where an elegant orchid stood in solitary perfection. Beside it sat a basket containing what appeared to be carefully selected items rather than the generic offerings she'd expected. She picked up a tin of tea, surprised to recognize the label of her preferred Earl Grey.

"Your assistant provided some of your preferences," Lila said, noticing Serena's attention. "We tried to make the space feel welcoming."

Serena set the tin down without comment, though the thoughtfulness registered somewhere beneath her practiced indifference. She continued her inspection, moving toward the wall of windows that framed the ocean like a living painting. The view was admittedly spectacular. Endless blue stretched to the horizon, sunlight dancing across the water's surface.

Not that she planned to waste time staring at scenery.

"I assume there's a workspace?" she asked, turning away from the view.

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