Page 132 of Theirs to Possess: The Marriage Claim
Dorian uncaps his water. “This is fine for now.”
The moment we’re alone, he brushes a kiss across my forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”
“You’re going somewhere?” I’m not sure why I’m taken aback. After all, Brennan disappeared.
“Enjoy a few minutes to yourself.”
His stride purposeful, Dorian vanishes below deck, leaving me alone with the sea’s gentle rhythm and the faint hum of the yacht.
I should be grateful for the solitude, a moment to breathe after the intensity of everything I’ve gone through since he stormed into my life.
But sitting here, surrounded by opulence, I feel strangely unmoored.
The Gulf stretches endlessly. I’ve already become accustomed to having them around all the time, and I feel their absence as a hollow ache.
I open my book and try to read, but the words blur and my mind wanders.
When my drink arrives, I’m grateful for the interruption. Instead of letting him set it down, I accept the glass with a smile.
The first sip of the rum-forward hurricane hits me hard. It’s sweet, tart, and strong, sending a rush of heat through me.
If I finish the whole thing, I’ll be more than a little tipsy.
Even though I want to down the entire thing in one go, I set it aside and try my book again.
A few minutes later, I give up in frustration. Instead, I pull out my phone and power it up.
The screen is glowing with messages—my sister’s bubbly texts about wedding plans, colleagues asking about my sudden wedding. Thanks to sites likeScandalicious, that news had spread fast.
Telling myself that responses can wait until I return from the trip, I pick up my beverage once more.
Right as I close my mouth around the straw, another text arrives.
The number is one I don’t recognize. With a small frown, I open the message and glance at it.
Tell your husband to watch his back, Mrs. Vale.
My hand shaking, I put my glass back down before I drop it.
Debts don’t disappear.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Dorian
Leaving Isla alone is a test of my willpower, much like trying to tear myself away from the pull of gravity.
And before I head inside, I take a last glance at her.
She’s still sprawled on the lounge chair, the gauzy sundress clinging to her curves. And with her bare legs and the ridiculous floppy hat framing her face, she’s my downfall.
Despite my best attempts at resistance, my cock stirs, hardening against my linen pants, and I curse under my breath.
More than anything, I want to be with her.
But I need to talk to Brennan.
He left us mid-shower, and I know him. He wouldn’t walk out and stay away unless something’s turned sideways.
