I close the door behind me and step outside. The sea breeze cools my skin and teases my hair. “What are you doing here, Winston? It’s really late.”

“I know what time it is.” He glances past my shoulders at the closed door. Won’t you ask me in?”

Nervous butterflies erupt in my belly as I think of what to say. “I...everyone is sleeping.”

Even as the words leave my lips I know it’s a pathetic excuse. He’s my fiancé and he has come all the way. The decent thing would be to talk to him inside. And yet something inside me won’t let me do that.

I’m actually surprised that Mom and Dad didn’t come to the door. On my way to open it, I heard their voices inside their room. They have always been light sleepers.

He’s quiet for a moment, then he nods. “I see.” He looks down at the flowers in his hands. “I brought you these.” He places the rather heavy bouquet in my arms. The scent of white roses, the same scent that normally wafts around his penthouse, doesn’t do anything for me.

He bends down to kiss me on the lips. As usual, like a switch being flicked on, butterflies flutter in my belly. My body never lets him down.

“Thanks.” I look past him at the stretch limousine. Why would he choose to drive a limo in Misty Cove, for God’s sake? Beyond the car, the curtains on the opposite side of the road are already ruffling, soft yellow light glowing behind them. We will be the talk of town tomorrow. I’m pretty sure the local paper will have a photo of the limo splashed across its cover. Gary from the magazine stand is sure to have another great business day or week.

“I have a feeling that’s not all you came here for. You traveled all this way.”

He takes my free hand. “Since you refuse to ask me in—”

“I didn’t refuse, Winston...I told you—”

“I know what you told me. In that case let’s talk in the limo.”

If he didn’t give me flowers, I would have thought he had come to break up with me because the look in his eyes right now is cool. The only time I saw that tight expression on his face was when he turned on his brother at the restaurant.

“Yes, okay.” I follow him to the car and allow the driver to open the door. I slide in and Winston follows me. The scent of roses mingles with leather and a hint of champagne. A half empty bottle is resting in a silver ice bucket.

As soon as we settle down, Winston closes the dark screen between us and the driver and turns to me. “I came here because I missed you. I called you all day and you wouldn’t answer or return my calls.”

I lower my eyelashes to hide the lies about to cross my lips. “I was busy. I also kept forgetting my phone when I went out.” None of my words are true. The only people I got to see so far are my family and one or two friends. When I went out for milkshakes with Heather, I had left my phone at home on purpose. I had seen his calls come in. I’d watched some of them until they died. I’d chosen not to return them.

“You said you wanted to be back in New York yesterday. I was calling to ask you if I should send you the plane.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I know my way back.”

He places a warm hand on my cheek. “I know you do, baby, but you’re my fiancée. I can’t let you use public transport.”

“And why not? What’s wrong with taking the bus or train?”

He shoves a hand through his hair. “You don’t get the enormity of you becoming a part of my life, do you? You are in the public eye now. People are watching you. The press will soon be chasing you around town. You can’t do the same old things you did before we got engaged.” He rubs the side of his face. “The truth is, I missed you way too much.”

To my horror, he reaches out and pushes his hand into my nightgown, cupping my breast. “Remember when we made love at the back of my limo, the week we met?”

How could I forget? It was the most thrilling night of my life. He had invited me out to dinner, but we didn’t actually make it there. As soon as I entered the limo, he removed my clothes and went for what he wanted.

I hold my breath, refusing to be hypnotized by his touch. I place my hand over his and pull him away. “Winston, stop. We really need to talk about this.”

His jaw tightens as he pulls away and leans back in his seat. “You’re right. Let’s start with why you lied to me.”

I straighten my clothes. “What are you talking about? I didn’t lie to you.”

“You told me you’ll be back in New York on a specific day and you didn’t show up.”

“I changed my mind. I wanted to spend more time with my family.” That’s exactly the reason why I avoided his calls. Deep down I knew he wouldn’t like it if I told him about my change of plans. “I wanted to stay two more days.”

He places a hand on my thigh and his grip feels a little too tight. “You’re acting as if this is all about you. You are my fiancée now. Your decisions reflect on me. I had plans for us.”

“I’m sorry for not letting you know. And not returning your calls. I did send you a text.”

“You know I hate texts. You should have called. What’s going on here, Jenna? You’re acting a little strange.”

“I’m not the only one.” I place my hand over his. “What’s happening to us? Since we got engaged we fight all the time.”

“We don’t have to.” He leans into me and kisses my neck before moving to my lips. He parts them and I let him in, my skin already starting to heat up.

Even though it’s damn hard, even though I’d rather give in to him, and allow him to seduce me, I can no longer hide the fact we have a problem and if we don’t solve it, our relationship could be in trouble. It takes all my willpower to pull away. I lower the flowers onto the seat and cup his face with my hands. “I love you. You know that, right? And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Then why do I get the feeling you’re pulling away from me?”

I let out a breath and drop my hand. “To be honest, I feel overwhelmed. Everything is moving a little too fast.”

I remember what Heather had suggested to me over milkshakes, that we might need a bit more time to get to know each other before we take the leap into a marriage. But what would be the consequences of telling him that?

“Then why did you agree to marry me? I thought we wanted the same thing.”

“Of course we do.” The sparkling ring on my finger catches my attention. It feels a little too tight now.

“Then stop questioning things and let’s get married.” He places his hand under my chin and makes me look at him. “I’m not letting you go. I love you too much. Stay another day here if you like, then I want you to come back to New York so we can plan our wedding.”