Page 91 of The Last Resort
But not right now.
“You know what? I’m going to wait until we get back to our room to turn this thing on. I spend far too much of my life being chained to its demands. And if an emergency has happened, there is little, if anything, I can do all from all the way down here in the Caribbean.”
Matthew turned his cell on. “Okay, no checking messages. And our NDAs have us not using any social media until after we’ve left the island. But I still want to take some photos of you. Tonight. Here. With my family.” He bent and kissed her softly on the lips. “And maybe some more interesting ones when it’s just the two of us.”
“Okay, you can airdrop the family ones to me later on. ButI reserve the right to veto which of theotherphotos you get to keep. How does that sound?”
“Perfect. Just like you.”
She fitted so easily into his life. And every time he looked at Rachel, all Matthew could think was how much he wanted her to remain there. To be a permanent part of his everything.
The DJ was spinning out some serious dance beats. Matthew grinned as each guest arrived and one by one, they squealed with delight as they clocked who was in charge of tonight’s music. His mother had left him the job of picking the music, and he’d put his parents’ limitless check book to good use.
“Is that who I think it is? I didn’t realize someone that famous would do private events,” said Rachel.
“He doesn’t, but one of the German cousins knows his wife and they convinced him to come.”
The music was pumping loud, and the dancefloor was fast becoming a crush of swaying bodies. He wanted to bump and grind with Rachel, but he also wanted them to talk.
“Did you want to dance, or maybe go somewhere else?”
They’d had few rare moments alone over the past couple of days, but the time until they left the island and went back to the lodge in Aspen was counting down all too quickly.
“What did you have in mind?”
He sensed the promise of sweaty sex on the beach in her words. Any other time, he would have taken Rachel up on that offer. But if they were ever going to move forward as a couple and possibly consider some sort of future together,they had to come to an agreement on what was to be done with the Green Tree Resort.
We need to talk before we get back on the jet to Colorado.
“I just thought that maybe we could go for a walk on the beach and talk. I’ve got a couple more ideas about what we could do to improve the preliminary concept we’ve already submitted for the lodge. As always, I’m interested in your thoughts.”
When Rachel’s eyes lit up at his words, Matthew’s hopes rose. This time the day after tomorrow, they would be back in the chilly climes of Aspen with all the pressures that living in the run-down resort brought with it. The warmth of the Caribbean might just be the thing they needed to help them find a solid way forward.
Rachel glanced briefly at the dancefloor then screwed up her nose. “I’m not much of a dancer anyway. Not unless you can waltz. My mom was all for Kellie and I learning how to prepare for dancing at formal presentation balls, and Atlanta gala events.”
He’d grown up among New York’s elite society, so Matthew knew how to waltz. One day he would find the perfect time and place to show Rachel just how well he could move on the dancefloor. Tonight however was for finding somewhere private to talk.
And whatever came after that.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
The beach at the far, western end of the island was empty of wedding guests and staff. After a couple of days being in the constant company of Matthew’s family, Rachel was more than content to be alone with him. In the time they’d spent together at the lodge, she and Matthew had become their own tiny self-contained community. She didn’t want to share him with anyone else.
Well, not unless the boiler breaks again. Or I meet more bears. Or we need groceries.
Stepping off the garden path, Rachel bent and picked up a palm frond which had fallen from a nearby tree. As they walked along the beach, she trailed it behind her letting it make random sweeping tracks in the sand.
Matthew snatched up a stick that had washed ashore, grinning as he added his own touches to her natural art work.
“Hey, I have copyright on that trail, go get your own,” she laughingly chided.
“My family owns this island, so you’d better have good lawyers.”
She stopped and turned to face him. “You said you had some ideas for the resort. I’m ready to listen.”
Matthew pointed his stick at her. “I’d rather show you. But you have to promise me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
