The sun has started to rise when I throw open the doors of the private cottage I arranged, mid-flight, at the most exclusive resort on Virgin Gorda Island. Kennedy, looking excitedly over my shoulder, sucks in her breath at the sight of the pristine beach leading down to the shore, the peacock-hued waves lapping softly at the shore, palm trees swaying gently in the breeze.

I let my feet sink into the white sand as I step out, reaching back for her hand.

She drops the blanket she had wrapped around her shoulders on the plane and steps out after me, her pretty lips parted. Her eyes are shining in the early morning light, and she wriggles her toes as they meet the sand.

“I’ve never felt sand this silky.” 

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“Too amazing.”

Kennedy moves almost as if she’s in a trance toward the shore, her eyes scanning the beach, taking in the trees that separate our stretch of beach from the other luxury cottages. I don’t mention that I’ve also reserved the ones on either side of us to ensure absolute privacy. The only people who will have any reason to come to our door will be staff members, and at this resort, they’re so good at what they do that you hardly ever see them.

“Nothing is too amazing for you.”

She turns and grins at me, her smile gleaming like sunshine in the dusky morning. “You are so cheesy.”

I frown a little, pretending to be hurt, and Kennedy’s arm is instantly around my waist, her lips pressing gently against my cheek. The scent of the shampoo we used on the plane, along with her warm skin, makes me want her even more than I already did. I could take her to bed right now—after the way she responded to me on the plane, I’m absolutely sure that fucking her will be mind-blowing for both of us—but I have the sense that pushing it right now would be a mistake.

At the ocean, the calm waves folding over one another in an endless rhythm, Kennedy stands at the edge of the sand, letting the waves cover her feet. She lets out a little moan that has me rock-hard in half a second. “It’s warm!”

I laugh out loud. “Did you think I would take you to a tropical island with frigid water?”

“You could have taken me anywhere,” she says, pressing her body against mine. “But I’m glad you chose this place. It’s unbelievable.”

“You haven’t even seen it in the light of day yet. Wait.”

As if on cue, the sun bursts over the horizon, streaks of pink and orange flooding the horizon. Kennedy gasps, her arm tightening around my waist. The light catches in her red hair, bolting it with copper, and I pull her in to me, put my lips against that fiery shade, and take in a big breath of her scent, my heart aching for a reason I can’t even begin to understand.

This was all a game, a stupid bet from Adam. It was routine. It was the kind of shit he always pulled on me when we went out, unless it was to one of the Pierce parties—Eli Pierce frowns upon that kind of game, and everyone in New York City knows it. But none of that matters. I didn’t even collect my winnings.

Not in that sense.

It still felt like a game when I took Kennedy out to dinner. I could tell myself then that I was doubling down on the bet, showing Adam that not only could I get a woman like Kennedy to dance with me, I could take her out later, too—a more respectable activity than working on her in the club.

But in this moment, while we watch daybreak arrive together, our feet bathed in the Caribbean Sea, an ocean away from all that bullshit, I can’t lie about it—even to myself.

This isn’t a game anymore.

Kennedy leans her head into my chest, a satisfied sigh escaping her. Then she yawns, so comically large that it makes me laugh, releasing some of the tight emotion coiled in my chest. “We flew most of the night,” I murmur into her hair. “Let’s get some rest.”

I pull the curtains in the bedroom and we slide between the silky sheets. I’ve texted John, who is on the ground in the town proper, to coordinate with the staff about bringing in the wardrobe later in the day when we’ll be out. He sent a runner with some essentials as soon as we touched down, but I want the rest here before the end of the afternoon.

Kennedy is sleeping soundly, her red hair spread out on the pillow, by the time I lay my head down. I curl around her, wrapping my arm around her waist, and she sighs sleepily and presses back against me like we’ve been sleeping together, like this, for years.

There’s none of the usual tension, that restless feeling of needing to be elsewhere, needing to be doing something that makes my adrenaline spike. With the scent of her surrounding me, I’m satisfied. For the first time in a long time, sleep comes easily.

I wake up to a terrified gasp. Kennedy lurches upright, pushing frantically at my arm, and my heart rockets up to my throat. She lets out a strangled cry.

I have no idea what time it is or how long we’ve been asleep. The heavy curtains on the windows make it impossible to tell, so at first all I can do is blink in confusion. What the hell?

“No,” Kennedy shrieks, giving my arm another shove. “I can’t do this!”

I move my hand up to her shoulder, rubbing gently. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s all right.”

She turns toward me, and all I can see of her expression in the dim light is that her eyes are wide and full of fear. Searching my face, it’s obvious to see that she’s startled to see me. It takes too many heartbeats for her to recognize me. “Gideon?”

I gather her to my chest, and she sags into me, relieved, but still trembling. “It’s all right. You must have been having a bad dream.”

She shakes her head.

“You weren’t having a bad dream?”

“I—” Kennedy sucks in a shuddering breath. “I don’t know. Maybe. But Gideon, I have to go home.” She pushes herself up on one elbow. “This was a mistake to come here. I made a mistake, and I have to go home.” She makes a move like she’s going to climb out of bed, and I catch her around the waist, pulling her back against me.

“Give it a minute,” I tell her, and she lets her head fall back against the pillows. I run my fingers through her hair, working out a tangle. “You didn’t make a mistake. Everything is fine. If anyone back home needs you, we can be there in a matter of hours.” I glance over at the bedside table, where her phone is perched. “You don’t have any missed calls. It’s all right.”

She closes her eyes. “I think it’s a mistake.” Her voice is shaky, and when she takes in another breath, there’s a hitch that has nothing to do with desire. “I shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not—”

“It’s all right,” I tell her again, and kiss her temple. “Sleep it off. When you wake up, we’re going to do something amazing.”

Within a few minutes, she’s drifted off again, her breathing peaceful.

I don’t sleep.

Instead, I plan.