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Reina

Turns out I wasn’t exactly broken. More like dilapidated. The walls I’d built around my heart, using what I thought were iron bolts and impenetrable plates of steel, turned out to be nothing more than wobbly panels of poster board, held together with scotch tape, tacky glue, and the occasional sticker.

Falling for Tristan Bettencourt IV had scared the bejeezus out of me. It’s no wonder, really. He’d crushed all my rigged-up defenses like the Big Bad Wolf did to the straw houses of the Little Pigs. Except that Tristan wasn’t bad. He was the best man I’d ever known.

A few months ago, all I’d wanted was a job on Wall Street, had considered personal relationships a threat to my single-minded pursuit of career success. Catching sight of the Bettencourt logo on Tristan’s wall had been horrifying. . . . And finding myself face-to-face with him on the first day of my dream job had been even worse. I thought kissing Tristan had been the biggest mistake of my life, one I’d compounded by going home with him.

How could a smart girl be so dumb?

Maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised. I mean, how could I have known what I was looking for until I found it? I know now, I’d been looking for Tristan my whole life.

Tristan appeared, handing me a piña colada. “How about a couple’s massage after we head back to our room, and maybe do a little couple’s activity of our own?” The man asking me the most delicious question I’d ever heard had grabbed hold of my heart and now kept it safely in his grasp. His own solid footing had changed the trajectory of my life, made me less volatile, more comfortable in my own skin. It sounds ridiculously corny but it’s the truth—Tristan’s love made me whole. And I loved him with every breath in my body.

I took a sip, letting my senses absorb the absolute perfection of the moment—an icy drink in hand, the sun beating down on my greased skin, toes wriggling in the pink Bermuda sand. And then I turned to Tristan, a smile on my lips, its twin hidden behind polarized lenses. “A couple’s massage, and more, sounds perfect.”

We clinked glasses, his containing a locally brewed beer rather than my girly concoction. “Anything to keep the birthday girl happy.”

I turned twenty-four today, and I couldn’t remember a happier day in my life. We’d flown into Bermuda last night, staying at the beachfront estate originally purchased by Tristan’s grandfather. It was stunning, of course. And had a small army of meticulous but practically invisible staff. Food simply appeared. Beds were magically made. Clothes were washed, sorted and put away before I realized they were gone.

But the key to my happiness lay in the gorgeous man lying next to me. “Tristan,” I trailed a finger along his glistening forearm. “I love you.”

He adjusted the huge umbrella so it protected my pale skin, even though I’d applied half a bottle of SPF 70 to every exposed inch. “And I love you too. But if you’re not careful, you’ll be so sunburned that our afternoon activities won’t be enjoyable.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” I drawled.

His tone was more firm. “Definitely not.”

“So, did you get all of your errands finished?” I’d been lying on the beach for nearly an hour, but Tristan had headed into town.

“I just had one. And yes, all taken care of.”

“Does that mean we can spend the rest of the afternoon together?”

Our fingers intertwined. “Nothing could tear me away.”

Tristan

There was a ring in my pocket. Granted, it was the pocket of the shorts I’d left back in our room after changing into swim trunks to meet Reina on the beach. But still. There was a ring in my pocket, and hopefully it would sit on Reina’s finger later tonight. And for the rest of her life.

I’d finally met a woman I would have liked to introduce to my mother, and I couldn’t wait to make Reina mine. I planned to propose beneath the setting sun, imagining my mother watching us from up above, streaking the sky with bright orange and pink to mark her joy.

Bermuda was the perfect place to celebrate Reina’s birthday for many reasons, including the fact that it was also home to the Bettencourt Bank branch where my great-grandmother’s ring, the same one my father had given to my mother, had been kept in a safety deposit box since her death. Even our couple’s massage had an ulterior motive. While we were locked away in our room, my entire family would arrive, along with Bryce and Celeste Van Horne. I’d invited Wendy, although she declined during an unexpectedly candid conversation about her divorce. She wasn’t in the right state of mind to celebrate someone else’s wedding, which I could understand. She did send a bouquet of flowers, along with a note of congratulations. It was a start. Reina’s mother was coming, and I’d even reached out to Gerald. He’d declined, no reason given.

I drank my beer, long swallows before it warmed in the hot sun, and glanced at my watch. We should head upstairs soon, not least of all because I could already detect a pinkish undertone to Reina’s alabaster skin. But I was anxious to feel her beneath me. I would never get enough of her, I knew. It had been hours since we’d drawn together in the still soft light of dawn, our bodies melding into one before consciousness caught up with our minds. Even the flavorful beer couldn’t drown out the taste of her on my tongue. It nagged at me like a craving, no matter what I was doing.

I should be exhausted. So should Reina. Millennial Fund’s lock-up period had expired two days ago. Not a single original investor had left, and all of them had increased their stakes. And other investors had poured in. Not just a hundred million. Or a few hundred million. No, we’d capped the fund at one billion dollars, and had to deal with several irate clients, furiously demanding explanations as to why we hadn’t accepted their money.

It was a far cry from the start of the week, when we’d been under attack by Bull Capital, fighting not just for the success of Millennial, but for Bettencourt as a whole. And Reina had been right by my side through every tumultuous minute. We hadn’t been together long, but I had no doubt that she was my perfect partner in work and in life. I wanted to propose tonight, in front of our friends and family, so that Reina would know just how important she was to me. I didn’t want to hide our relationship from anyone, and couldn’t wait for every sparkle of the diamond on her hand to proclaim that she was the most important person in my life.

Wall Street was all random walks and unpredictable whims. My job was the equivalent of jumping on a bucking horse and riding it long enough to make it shit a stream of golden coins. Some days I would leave the ring battered and bruised, and other days my pockets would be bulging with loot. I couldn’t imagine anyone else but Reina would appreciate the highs and lows of such a speculative career.

But right now, work was the last thing on my mind. “Let’s go.”

Reina

As Tristan promised, after lunch and a leisurely swim in the ocean we returned to our suite to find two massage tables set up on the terrace outside our bedroom, beneath a white muslin canopy. I looked from the women standing on either side, wearing broad smiles and colorful turbans wrapped around their heads, to the fresh piña colada and sweating glass of beer arranged between the towel-draped slabs, and then back at Tristan. “Is this Bermuda or heaven on earth?”

He tossed a leering smile at me. “It’s only heaven if you’re naked.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the women turn away, giving us our privacy. “Makes sense.” I lifted my hair, presenting my now bare neck to Tristan. “Want to help?”

His response was a slow pull of my bikini string, and a breathy swirl of his tongue beneath my ear. Heaven, definitely heaven. I didn’t realize my bathing suit was just a jumble of triangles and string on the deck until I felt the sting of Tristan’s hand on my bare ass, giving a surprised yelp at the swat.

Tristan gestured toward the twin tables. “Paradise awaits,” he breathed, his blue eyes a perfect reflection of the sun-dappled ocean just steps away, shining with the same intention I’d seen from across a crowded ballroom.

I lay down, turning my head to watch Tristan step out of his board shorts, drinking in all six feet of his tanned, rippling muscles, and my favorite part too, the one that hung between his thighs.

Our heads were close, and as the masseuse rubbed oil into my shoulders, Tristan reached out for my hand. I extended it with a dreamy smile. This. This was the brass ring. This was love. I was in love. I was loved.

Soothed by the ocean crashing onto the sand, the jasmine scented oil, and the skillful massage, my eyes drifted closed.

I was in heaven.

Tristan

Eventually Reina’s hand slipped from my fingers. An occasional groan of pleasure let me know she wasn’t sleeping, but she was so relaxed, she was practically boneless.

I had no desire to close my eyes. Why should I? I had the best view in the world. God damn, Reina was beautiful. Her long blond hair hung over the edge, one stubborn lock hugging the side of her cheek and curling just under her chin. Her skin was pink from sun and happiness, her lips swollen and slightly open.

A towel was draped over my ass, but the way my dick was stiffening beneath me, it would become a tent as soon as I turned over. Putting a finger to my lips, I nodded at Reina and rose quietly, wrapping the towel around my waist.

My turn. Greasing my hands, I took over. Flashing knowing smiles, the women backed out of the terrace silently. I ran my thumbs along the delicate arches of Reina’s feet, pulling at each perfect toe.

Reina mumbled something, sighed. I moved up to her calves and thighs, kneading with my fingers, pressing with my palms. Keeping my touch perfectly professional until I couldn’t keep myself in check anymore. Finally I knocked her towel to the floor, groaning as I possessively gripped the deliciously round globes of her ass. Reina’s eyes flew open as she spun around to face me, her pupils dilating with surprise. In an instant I was right back in my apartment, slayed by the look of panic on her face. But this time it slid off the second she met my gaze. “Oh, it’s you.”

I planted a kiss at the base of her spine, then at the twin dimples sitting a few inches south. “It’s me, Reina. It’s always going to be me.”

She rolled over then, and I was treated to the feast of her breasts. Her nipples were already hard, and I tugged at the peaks with my teeth, small nips that had Reina rolling her head and breathing hard. A bottle of oil sat near our untouched drinks and I reached for it, pouring it liberally over her skin, relishing the feel of her muscles bunching and easing beneath my touch.

Reina’s thighs lolled open, her hips bucking upward, wordlessly communicating exactly what she wanted. Not a tough sell. As I kissed my way along delicate hip bones, I caught a flash of color—a breeze sweeping the umbrella adorning Reina’s drink to the floor. Accident or inspiration?

Flashing a grin at Reina’s flushed face, I reached for her frothy concoction, dribbling a tiny bit into the shallow well of her belly button, waiting just long enough for her sharp intake of breath, her stomach tensing in surprise, before following it with a swipe of my tongue. “Tristan—”

But I was already focused on the creamy expanse of inner thigh. I tilted the glass. Another sharp breath, another lick. “Tristan—” Reina’s voice was higher, more urgent this time.

I could do this all fucking day. I moved to her other leg, tilted the glass again. This time my name was a shriek. I glanced up. I had a destination in mind, but wanted to be sure. Reina’s eyes were wide and glassy, the line of her teeth white against her pink lips. I skimmed the base of the glass lightly along her oiled skin, moving closer and closer to her core. Reina’s eyes followed my movements, her lower lip trembling. “You know where I’m going with this,” I said, giving her a chance to object.

She nodded. “I think so.”

I took a sip, holding the icy concoction in my mouth, just long enough for it to cool my tongue. And then I put the glass down, held her open with my thumbs, and made contact with her swollen clit. Reina’s hips jerked upward. “Ohmygod—”

Within a few seconds, my tongue was just as hot as Reina. Her thighs trembled, closing around my ears so that my every breath was filled with her. As the last shudder ripped though Reina’s body, I picked her up and carried her to the bed. No way the massage table’s spindly legs would survive my version of a couple’s massage.

Reina’s fingers interlocked behind my neck as I settled her against the pillow. I kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, the delicate hollow at the base of her neck, her heartbeat fluttering against my tongue. As I slid between her welcoming thighs, Reina moaned, low in her throat. Our eyes met as I hovered just above her mouth, drinking in her breath.

“Now this, this is my heaven.”

Reina

It happened in slow motion. One minute I was blowing out twenty-four candles, surrounded by everyone I loved—which was in itself a miracle—and the next I was staring at Tristan, down on bended knee. Apparently while we’d been locked away in our room, luxuriating in each other, my mom had arrived, along with Bryce and Celeste, Tristan’s father and stepmother and their two giggling pre-teens, and of course Kyle and his girlfriend, or maybe just girl of the moment. At our dinner last week, my mom had told me she wasn’t going to let her marriage interfere with our relationship anymore, and it looked as if she was making good on her promise. She was here even though Gerald wasn’t, and that was just fine by me. He did send a gift, though. A beautifully framed photograph of ‘Fearless Girl’ staring down Wall Street’s famous bull. There was no note, but it felt like a peace offering.

My stomach turned over as Tristan’s eyes met mine, my heart pounding a furious beat against my chest. “Reina, you are even more gorgeous tonight than you were the first time I laid eyes on you. I thought you were too young for me that night, which was true. And since then, I’ve realized you’re also too smart and too fierce and way too brave for me.”

For a moment, time stopped. I was playing dress-up in borrowed jewelry and too-big heels. A tremor started in my stomach and moved outward, and I nearly lost my footing. But then I focused on Tristan, immediately steadied by what I saw shining in his eyes. Love. Respect. Trust.

“But in spite of all that, and because I love you more than I ever thought possible, a love so strong I know it’s true, I want nothing more than to be your husband.” He opened the box and my jaw dropped at the sheer size of the diamond winking at me from its blue velvet cushion. The only other ring I’d ever worn had belonged to a football player who’d given it to me in the hopes that I’d agree to sleep with him. I hadn’t, and he’d taken it back. This one was much better. And I had no intention of ever giving it back.

“Reina St. James, will you marry me?”

A hush fell over our small group, the pounding surf a drumbeat scoring the end of my fairytale. This wasn’t an ending though, Tristan and I were just getting started.

“Yes,” I whispered. Yes, yes, yes!!!

Tristan’s smile was as dazzling as the diamond he was holding. As exuberant as the canopy of colors painting the sky overhead. The fingers of my left hand stretched out, almost automatically. He took the ring from its perch and slid it over the knuckle of my fourth finger.

It fit perfectly.

Applause faded into background noise as Tristan swept me into his arms. It hit me then how much I’d lost. All the secrets, all the shame. Good riddance, don’t let the door smack your ass on the way out. I had love in my life now. I had family. And this wonderful hunk of a man who looked at my dug-up patch of dirt and saw only the beginnings of a garden.

For a girl who had never heard even the slightest tick of her biological clock, a visceral urge slammed into my belly. I wanted a Tristan Xavier Bettencourt V, and a dozen other Bettencourts to follow with dark hair, and blue eyes, and preppy-sounding names that would be shortened to even preppier nicknames. I wanted a lifetime of hedge funds and holidays, honoring old traditions and making new ones together. I kissed Tristan back as if my life depended on it. In a way, it did. He was my life, and I was his.

There was a flash from a camera and I knew I’d print it out and caption it, maybe even tape it to my bathroom mirror like I’d done in high school.

Best. Birthday. Ever.