Page 53 of One Forbidden Night In Paradise (Hot Winter Escapes)

‘Of course not. Help yourself.’ He handed it to her, and in answer to the curiosity in his green eyes, she said quietly, ‘I just need to write a few notes for my thesis.’

She wrote solidly for the remaining two hours of the flight time. Wrote more in those two hours than she had written in the previous six months. It wasn’t finished but she had a title that was worthy of the word-count, and a structure.

‘Is it going well?’

Looking up, she found Chase watching her again, and she nodded slowly. ‘I don’t know why but I think I know what I’m doing.’

‘Of course you do. You’re going to save the world. You’ve already saved me.’

I have?

The question formed in her mouth but before she had a chance to ask it, his phone buzzed, and as he glanced down at the screen she forgot about what his answer might be. His eyes were suddenly blazing green.

‘What is it?’

‘It’s Billy. The lab results have come back.’ There was a shake to his voice. ‘That cooking pot they found near that partial wreck off the south-eastern reef, it looks like it might come from the Portuguese fleet that disappeared in 1594.’

She squeezed his hand. ‘That’s incredible.’ But looking up at Chase’s face, she felt her chest tighten and her excitement ooze away. She had seen that look so many times in her life. It was the look of an addict getting their fix: Part relief, part panic that it might not be real. Only she had chosen to ignore it because she had wanted him to be different. Because she had wanted their truths to mean something. And they did, but not enough.

It was never enough.

‘You must be so pleased.’

He looked up from the screen, his face blank, as if what she had said made no sense, as if he had forgotten she was even there. The thought winded her. But, of course, she could never compete.

‘I just needed proof,’ he said slowly. ‘Now I know it’s out there.’ Only that wasn’t all he needed, she thought, forcing her mouth into what she hoped was a smile. There would always be the next fix, and then the next.

After the apartment, Joan’s house felt even more like a doll’s house. As Chase had promised, his builders had done a good job. So good, she wished they could come and renovate the cottage.

The next two days were bittersweet.

Outwardly everything was perfect. That first evening, they made love and they talked, sitting on the sand, some part of them always touching the other. He was everything she wanted in the world right there. He made her world complete.

And she allowed herself that one night, but the next morning and with every passing hour she tried to pull back a little. To not take his hand quite so quickly or lean in so eagerly for a kiss because it was going to stop soon enough and she had to wean herself off him because time wouldn’t stop. But even if she could stop it, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change all the ways that Chase was wrong for her.

‘What’s up?’

She glanced up at him, her head still reeling from the impossibility and rightness of that statement.

‘Nothing, why?’

They were sitting on the porch watching the tide turn.

‘You’re frowning.’ He reached out and smoothed her forehead. As always, his touch made her shiver inside.

‘I just realised I need to check in.’ Because tonight was her last night in Bermuda. The thought made everything inside her roll sideways like a boat about to capsize.

‘In fact I should probably start packing.’ She started to get to her feet. ‘It’s a really early flight.’

He angled his head back, his green eyes holding her so that she sat back down. ‘So leave later.’

‘I can’t. There’s no more flights tomorrow.’ She had checked.

‘Then why don’t I take you?’

For a moment she just stared at him. Maybe she had misunderstood. ‘You want to take me back to England?’ she said, finally.

His fingers tiptoed over the curve of her hip. ‘I have some business in London next week, but I can just go earlier. You could show me your cottage. We could build some snow people in your garden,’ he said softly.

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