Tristan was starving.

He’d finally managed to get back to the island late the night before. He’d been forced to take a flight onto neighboring St. Kitts and had hitched a ride to Nevis on a fisherman’s boat. It had been almost dawn when he’d finally arrived at the resort and, after a quick pass through the kitchen for a late-night snack, he’d crashed hard. When Tristan had gotten up later that morning, Mark and Grace had already left.

Tristan made a mental note to text his cousin, confirming he was back. He didn’t want Mark and Grace thinking he was already neglecting his management duties, however temporary. Checking his watch, Tristan’s mood plummeted when he realized he had hours before he could take a break. A fact his stomach protested. Loudly.

Sonya, the spa director, always had snacks in her office. Awful, bland, healthy snacks. Nothing like the whipped cream he’d discovered in the kitchen that he’d happily eat for days. But, at this point, anything was better than nothing.

Tristan caught the foreman’s attention, letting him know he’d be back. They were behind on the spa renovation. Of course. There wasn’t a construction project on the face of the planet that finished on time, regardless of how much money was thrown at it. A water pipe had burst only days ago, flooding two treatment rooms before they’d been able to turn the main off.

That was only the most recent setback. Expanding the foundation was their current problem. What should have been an easy expansion was currently on hold after their recent discovery that the land directly behind the spa wasn’t so much solid ground as an unsteady mixture of hardened lava and sand.

“Damn.” The back of Tristan’s neck was raw from rubbing. He dug his fingers into the tendons, hoping the pressure would drain some of his stress.

The headache that had been building over the course of the morning pounded with increased intensity. Tristan really needed food.

“Sonya?” Sticking his head into the office, he looked for the spa manager. She wasn’t around, but Tristan found the bowl of almonds on her desk, grabbed a fistful, and dumped them into his mouth all at once. He groaned as his jaw cracked against the nuts. Definitely unsatisfying.

He worked hard not to choke on the dry mouthful as he trudged back to where the men were digging out the grotto.

If—no, when—it was complete, it would be beautiful. The grotto would contain a large heated pool with jets running along both sides and a waterfall pouring into one end.. The rear wall would be one enormous floor-to-ceiling window, showcasing the beach outside and the waves crashing just beyond. They’d done the math carefully. At high tide, the ocean water would be only feet away.

The heated floor of the underground room would be made of stone, the same pinks and soft creams that would form the smooth bottom of the pool. Lanterns tucked in the wall would give the hideaway the feel of twilight, and strategically placed pin lights in the ceiling would mimic the night sky.

It would be stunning. Relaxing. A place every guest would return to again and again.

If they could just get it built.

Tristan grabbed the coffee he’d abandoned earlier and grimaced as he swallowed the cold, dark sludge.

Bitter the whole way down. But Tristan wouldn’t let it break his stride. This problem—and all the rest—wouldn’t stop him from getting Mark’s vision built. As he waved the foreman over, Tristan re-ordered the construction details in his brain. Sorting, processing. There had to be a solution they hadn’t landed on yet.

By the time Grant reached him, Tristan had buried his concerns and gnawing hunger beneath resigned determination. He had confronted problems far worse than this. He wasn’t going to crack now. Certainly not where anyone would notice.

* * *

Tessa closed her apartment door just as her pocket vibrated. She accepted the video call and smiled when Grace’s face popped up on the screen.

“How are things going?”

Tessa laughed. “You realize you’ve been gone less than ten hours, right?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t check in. I still feel awful for leaving you all alone.”

“I’m in a hotel surrounded by people. I’m hardly alone.”

“Surrounded by people you don’t know,” Grace countered.

“But that won’t last long. Besides, I’ve already met some of the kitchen staff. And Chef will be in tomorrow. I’ll be making friends in no time.”

“Hmm.” Grace frowned through the tiny screen and Tessa laughed.

“Seriously. Don’t worry about me. I’m already getting into the swing of things.”

“Really?” Grace perked up.

“Yes. The kitchen is a dream. I’m already testing out recipes. Chef and I are going to discuss which ones work best with the overhauled dinner menu in a few days. Really, other than the strange guy this morning, everything’s been great.”

Grace’s smile vanished. “What do you mean, strange guy?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Tessa backpedaled, hating Grace’s expression and the tone that came with it. She didn’t need to worry her friend, and she really didn’t need Grace rushing back to the hotel so soon. Talk about the fastest way to get on Mark Donovan’s shit list.

“Nuh-uh,” Grace countered. “I’m definitely going to worry about strange men who wander into any part of my hotel, including your kitchen. Especially when you’re there by yourself. Spit it out.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything. He wasn’t that strange. Just really determined to eat my whipped cream.”

Grace’s mouth fell so far open Tessa could practically see down her throat. Horror quickly replaced her astonishment and Tessa blushed, realizing how it must have sounded.

“NO! No. Like, actual whipped cream. For a cake I was making. He must have discovered it in the fridge earlier. Maybe he was looking for something to eat? I don’t know. I made it last night and he must have found it sometime between then and this morning, and came back for more. That’s all. No harm done.”

“Tessa.” Grace’s voice was stern. “First, I don’t ever want to hear you talking about men eating your whipped cream in our restaurant’s kitchen, gotcha? That is an image I will not be able to get out of my head.”

“No, no, no—” Tessa waved her finger, about to point out how hypocritical it was for Grace to frown on sexy shenanigans in parts of the hotel that do not have beds—God, the stories Grace could tell! But her friend kept talking.

“Second, staff know better than to root around in kitchen fridges. Chef would have their ass if he caught anyone stealing snacks.”

Tessa shrugged, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut.

“Unless…” Grace’s frown softened as her eyes brightened. “Tessa, what did he look like?”

“Uhhh.” Tessa quickly edited the details she’d catalogued about the man. Stranger or not, she didn’t really think “fuckable” was a helpful answer. “Tall.”

“Tall? That’s all you got?”

“Yes.” Tessa hoped Grace couldn’t see her blushing through the video connection. “He was very tall.”

“That’s like the least helpful detail possible.”

Tessa shrugged again. “What can I say, I was distracted. And trying to keep him from sticking his fingers in the cream.”

“Uggg!” Grace slapped her palm to her forehead.

Tessa laughed, drowning out Grace’s groan. “Okay, he had blue eyes, black hair.”

Grace looked at her through the phone, a smile spreading. “See, now that I can work with.”

“So you know who it was?”

“Yes.” Grace nodded. “It had to be—”

Tessa watched the name stop on the tip of Grace’s tongue as her body swayed and a dark blonde head burrowed into the side of her neck.

“Mark!” Tessa barely made out Grace’s muffled shout as her friend’s boyfriend—and Tessa’s new boss—angled her away from the phone. Tessa could just make out his mouth settling against Grace’s jawline in the corner of the screen.

“Okay!” she shouted, pushing the phone away quickly. “I’ll talk to you later!” Tessa thought she heard Grace protest from somewhere below the speaker, but she wasn’t going to wait to find out.

Hitting the “end” button as fast as she could, Tessa dropped her phone on the bed and quickly followed after it. She couldn’t help but smile. Seeing Grace and Mark together was like watching an intricate, occasionally dangerous dance. She was never sure who was going to step on whose toes, but she knew it would happen. Just as she knew that whatever they did to make up, it would be way better than the fight.

Tessa’s smile faded as she stared up at the ceiling.

She wanted what they had. Maybe not something quite so volatile, but something just as passionate. Absolutely.

She’d envisioned having it, once. A life that she’d worked so hard to create for herself. Executive pastry chef at one of Manhattan’s best restaurants. A husband, a partner to build her life with. Even kids someday.

A familiar sense of longing and loss curled in the base of Tessa’s stomach.

The dreams she’d kept hidden, safe. The sacrifices she’d made. The punishing hours she’d worked year after year to climb the daunting and male-dominated ladder of professional kitchens. Tessa had been on the brink of having everything she’d always wanted when life had interfered. When it had all just become too much.

She hadn’t spoken to her father in weeks, but she knew he’d get in touch eventually. That he’d tell her the same pathetic story. The one that had her funneling most of her paycheck into his bank account. The same one that had sent her thousands of miles away from home.

Tessa’s phone vibrated against the bed, probably Grace calling her back. Or maybe the overdue call from her dad. She looked at the phone and shot up when she saw the message on the screen.

Get settled. Will be calling soon.

The sender came up as “Unknown,” but Tessa knew who it was. Just as she knew what he wanted. What he expected. He’d made sure of that.

Tessa drew in a shaky breath, not bothering to respond. She may have escaped New York, but there was no escaping the trouble she’d left behind.