Page 73 of The Billionaire's Accidental Legacy

But it wasn’t the remembering; it was that he had been there. In her path all the time, but she had difficulty sorting that out. Was it fate, or was she a mastermind? She had finagled her way into the game, but only through Maren’s speaking to the right man.

Maybe this was the problem. She gave herself entirely too much credit. Because she gave herself so much credit, it was easy for her to dismiss anything slightly miraculous in the world.

She always figured it was because of her own machinations.

But maybe it wasn’t.

She stuffed a slice of cheddar cheese into her mouth. Because at least that grounded her to the moment.

“Are you all right?” he asked, lounging back in the comfortable seat.

“Not especially. I would like to know where we’re going.”

“But don’t you think it will be exciting to be caught unawares?”

“No. Because I’m a woman. Who has had to navigate the rather unfriendly streets of the world, and I can tell you, nothing good happens when you are caught unawares.”

“This will be good.”

“Do you intend to seduce me again?”

She tried to sound cool. But she rather hoped that he would.

“No. I intend to be true to my word. You wanted this to be a marriage in name only, and you will have your way.”

What if, she said only to herself,I have changed my mind?

She didn’t want to say it to him because she felt tender. Wounded.

She would have; only a week ago, she would have.

But since she’d had a chance to turn over everything that had passed between them in Paris, she didn’t want to.

Because he was theStarry Night.

And she realized suddenly that when they’d made love when they’d been strangers, it had been like looking at a printed copy of that painting.

But this, knowing him, knowing the ways he had been hurt, knowing the ways his father had devastated him...

Confiding in him, being near him, sitting with the reality that she was carrying his baby. That they had made a child together...

These were the details of an original work of art. A masterpiece.

And she was overawed with them, and it made it impossible for her to keep her normally flippant facade up.

“Be surprised,” he reiterated.

She napped, and when they landed hours later, the jewel-bright water was rushing up to greet them.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“An island in the Caribbean. Private, naturally. Easy to have supplies brought in daily, but we will be isolated. Not a soul in sight the entire time.”

“That seems excessive.”

“I thought we’d been through this already. I am excessive. In all things.”

Except as she looked at him, she could see how much of that was a facade.

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