Page 27 of Her Diamond Deal with the CEO

And then inevitably it had happened. In their speed to get back to their new Jack-free lives, there had been a screw-up, a misstep in communications. He had broken his arm.

Sometimes he wondered about how things might have played out afterwards. If his mother hadn’t extended her holiday in St Barts. Or his father had decided to wait for her to arrive, choosing to spend a few more minutes in the company of his only son instead of leaving him in the care of the housekeeper as usual.

His throat clenched and for a moment he couldn’t seem to make the deck beneath his feet stay still, and, reaching out, he gripped the railing to steady himself. Of course, neither of those things had happened and that was when his grandfather had stepped in and taken him to live in New York.

But this ‘situation’ with Ondine was different. Whichever way he worked through this particular equation the outcome was going to be the same.

It didn’t matter if he was the father of this baby or not. He had already told his grandfather that he and Ondine were married. So, if he backed out now on his honeymoon, he was going to look more flaky, less mature, less everything he needed to be to win back John D. Walcott IV’s trust and respect, and his place back on the board.

For that to happen, he needed time to prove himself worthy at work. That was why he had agreed with Ondine to stay married for at least a year. By then he would have shown his grandfather that he was capable of stepping into his shoes. Then they could gradually and quietly start to live separate lives. Or that was the plan.

If you could even call it that. He ran his hand over his face, feeling suddenly exhausted.

Everything he’d assumed would happen wasn’t going to work now because in a year’s time, Ondine would have given birth, and the optics of leaving your wife with a small baby were about as bad as it could get.

In other words, he was cornered. There was going to be no release from this trap he had set and sprung himself, or at least not within the timescale he’d planned. And not without tearing off a limb, metaphorically speaking. Although Ondine probably wouldn’t be averse to doing that in real life, he thought, picturing her small, furious face.

His mouth twisted. She had no right to be angry. He was the one who’d had his life turned upside down and inside out. But he wasn’t a kid any more. He was in control. He made the decisions now, and he was deciding to make this sham of a marriage work.

He stopped breathing.

Although he might have said the opposite to Ondine.

Replaying the words they had flung at one another as he’d stormed out of the bathroom, he felt a flicker of unease. But she hadn’t meant what she said. She wouldn’t act on it, would she?

The waves slapping against the side of the launch seemed to grow louder, taking on the rhythm of his suddenly racing heart, and, swearing under his breath, he turned and began to walk swiftly back towards the house.

Red Knots looked as it always did. And, as always, gazing up at it quietened his mind. There was no way Ondine would make good on her threat. Even if she hadn’t signed any paperwork, she needed money. Even more so now. But as he made his way upstairs, he felt another flicker of unease. The bedroom was empty. The bathroom too, and it was tidy. He stared for a moment at the vanity unit, remembering how he had tossed the pregnancy tests into the sink. Then he turned and checked the other bedrooms and bathrooms.

But there was no sign of her.

Downstairs, heart accelerating, he moved from room to room. In the kitchen, the housekeeper, Sally, was weighing out some flour. Aside from that, the room was empty and he was beginning to panic.

She couldn’t have left the island. There was only one boat and that was tied up at the jetty. So short of swimming back to Martha’s Vineyard—

Surely she wouldn’t attempt that. But then he remembered how she had pulled him through the water, and the steadiness of her grip around his chest. Only that had been close to shore. Here the currents were swift and treacherous. Slamming back outside, he made his way around the veranda, feeling sick to his stomach—

He stopped short.

Ondine was sitting on the porch swing, hugging her knees to her chest. She was wearing the same clothes as earlier but her feet were bare now. It made her look more delicate, more vulnerable, younger than before. Like a child playing dress-up. And in a way that was what she was. What this was. Except they couldn’t just change out of their clothes and go back to being who they were. Not yet anyway.

‘I thought you might be swimming back to the mainland.’ It was harder than it should have been to keep his voice calm.

Her blue eyes met his. She looked pale and tired, but defiant. ‘I agreed to be your wife. If I say I’m going to do something, I do it.’

Even as his anger simmered inside him, he felt a twitch of respect, admiration even. And relief. ‘You did say that,’ he agreed. ‘But you also said you wanted out of this farcical marriage.’

There was a short silence.

‘You said you wanted that too,’ she said finally. He watched as she let go of her knees, stretching out her legs. Her feet seemed suddenly particularly bare, so bare that he was distracted by their soft curving arches and then, with crashing predictability, by a memory of how the rest of her body looked naked.

He gritted his teeth. He needed no reminder.

‘I did. I do. Only I think we both know that can’t happen. So, it looks like I’m stuck with you.’

He didn’t bother hiding the bitterness in his voice, but as she hugged her knees closer to her chest he wished he had. Then he told himself that he didn’t care. That it was her fault for trying to trick him into taking responsibility for another man’s mistake.

Her chin tilted up. ‘And I with you.’

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