Page 91 of Seal My Fate

“I’d say the same about you, but I’m guessing they’re a little racier than puppies and waffle cones.”

“Maybe…”

We laugh. I love hearing her so happy. With her eye-popping ‘gift’ from Cyrus, she decided to set up home on the West Coast—after a stop back at home, to reunite with our parents. They were stunned by the news that she’d faked her death, and had a million questions—for both of us. But in the end, their joy at having Wren back has outweighed their anger and confusion over what happened to her. I know it may take a while for them to process everything, but they’re already scheduled to visit Wren this week and help her get her new place set up, and I can’t wait to bring Saint to meet them, too.

It's a fresh start, for all of us.

“So, do they get the news on that fancy island of yours?” Wren asks.

“You mean, have I seen the latest round of headlines? Yup. There’s nothing new though,” I add, reassuring her. “It’s all just about the falsified trial results, and Ashford Pharma crashing and burning.”

“Literally,” Wren adds, with a wry twist in her voice.

News about the drug scheme sent the press, and markets, into a frenzy. The company share price collapsed overnight, and word is, they’re heading straight for bankruptcy. Not to mention, jail. Rumors are swirling about fraud convictions for Alexander and Lillian St. Clair—and Robert, too, since his name was all over the paperwork. The public will never know the depths of their twisted conspiracy, but it’s good that they’re facing justice for this part of their crimes, at the very least.

“Just curious, but how is Mr. Fancy Pants planning on paying for all that luxury travel, now that his inheritance is basically gone?” Wren asks.

I smile. “Saint’s rebellion against his family included the company, too,” I confide. “He told me the minute he got access to his trust fund, years ago, he yanked all the money from Ashford, and invested it elsewhere.”

Lucrative places, like his friend Sebastian Wolfe’s hedge fund, which has skyrocketed since Saint signed on as one of the original investors. Which means he’s still eye-poppingly wealthy.

“Smart man.” Wren sounds delighted. “I hope he’s planning on keeping you in the height of luxury.” The sound of a doorbell comes. “That’s my take-out,” Wren says. “There’s a Thai place here you’re going to love. I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”

“Love you!”

I ring off, in time to see Saint approaching, sauntering from the tropical gardens in nothing but a pair of swimming trunks—and the sexy, wolfish grin I love so much.

“Wren’s getting settled,” I report happily.

“That’s great.” he joins me in the cabana, stretching with a yawn. “I just talked to Imogen.”

“Things are still crazy in London?” I ask.

He nods. “The ripple effects of Ashford’s collapse are still making their way through society. But she did have some news for us,” he says, with a smirk. “Annabelle’s dumped Max. Sent him packing, the minute news hit that they were all going down. She’s filed for an annulment, and last anyone heard, she was on a yacht, heading for Brazil with some famous soccer star.”

I burst out laughing. “Good for her,” I say, pleased. She tried to help me and Wren, in her way, and I’m glad she’s getting out unscathed.

“You’re looking a little sunburned, sweetheart,” Saint says, reaching for a bottle of sunscreen. “Let me help with that.”

“You’re so generous,” I coo, flirty. “Always looking out for me.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

I applied some just a half-hour ago, but I lay down on my front, melting under the feel of his hands slowly massaging every inch of my body. And in my tiny blue bikini, there’s plenty to touch. Saint’s fingertips brush my back slowly, skimming over my waist and hips until I’m practically melted into a puddle on the chaise.

He leans in, brushing the back of my neck with a slow kiss. “Are you happy?” he murmurs.

I roll over to face him, only inches away. “Very,” I whisper, kissing the edge of his neck… His sexy, stubbled jaw… His mouth…

Saint captures me to him, deepening the kiss until I’m gasping and boneless in his arms. His tongue slides over mine in a sensual dance, body hardening against me as I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, bringing him into the cradle of my thighs.

Saint groans against my mouth as I rock against him. “Baby…Fuck.”

“Excellent idea,” I tease him with a smirk. “It’s been all of… Two hours since you were inside me.”

Saint’s eyes flash with heat. “How remiss of me.”

In one smooth motion, he nudges aside my bikini bottoms and sinks two fingers inside my wet core.

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