4
Juliet
The instant I could get away from Miller, my mind replayed the night of the charity ball he begged me to crash with him.
It couldn’t have been, could it? I remembered thinking.
Yet somehow, I knew the answer the moment the stranger touched me. His hand rested too comfortably on my hip. The way in which he moved me hinted at a familiarity my body seemed to recognize. No, wanted to recognize. He surprised me, there was no doubt about that. Sharp tuxedo, solid stature, perfect dark hair. I avoided his eyes too quickly, fearing he might know me, not trusting myself if it was who I longed it to be. Something made me give in instantly to his lead. Within seconds, I was barefoot on a beach, the stars over my head, and he was at my back.
Tack. My imagination took me back to the island as the dancing stranger twirled me away from him, and then roped me to return to his chest. The way he dipped me, my heart raced beneath my skin, and the dark ballroom ceiling was a star-filled night. The heat developing between us was the warmth of a tropical breeze, and when his nose skimmed my neck, I almost begged him to kiss me.
He was confident in his moves, and I was transported two years prior in my life. A man. An island. A lovely night. He touched me that night. Three orgasms in one evening. It was more pleasure than I’d ever received until the night he made love to me. He was gentle like he promised. He took care of me. I often questioned if he cared about me, but I had no doubts about that one night. The night of the hurricane.
What was I doing? I had thought when I realized the music had stopped. I noticed people staring, particularly the blonde in a dress that rivaled Jessica Rabbit. Her eyes narrowed on me despite her mask. The masquerade was a metaphor for heart disease—a masked killer of women—but I saw her eyes through the holes. She hated me and for no reason. Then I recalled how we must have looked. His nose in my neck. My body pressed to his. I tugged forward, and he released me. Then I imagined I heard his voice.
Mouse, whispered through my memory. The sound stopped me, and I realized my mind was playing tricks on me. It couldn’t be him. I’d been such a fool. My heart raced as I picked up the pace, dodging through the tables for the exit. I didn’t even bother to look for Miller. Like Cinderella escaping the ball, I fled.
+ +
I’d tried every excuse I could think of to get out of the charity trip. I did not want to go. Absolutely, unequivocally, indisputably, did not want to go anywhere near islands in the Caribbean.
“Remind me again why we are heading to a tropical island near hurricane season?” I couldn’t let my panic show, but the last time I’d been near the Virgin Islands, there had been a hurricane.
“Champagne?” the flight attendant sweetly asked, distracting Miller from my question.
Miller nudged me as he answered, “We’d love some.”
“I hate you,” I whispered as he eyed the serving attendant.
“You’ve told me that about fifty times in the last month. But I love you, and this is for your own good and the good of our organization. So, shut up and drink some champagne.”
He was correct. In every sense. If we received the donation it would help our business, but seeing Terrence Jackson Corbin IV was the last thing I wanted to do. Tack, as he was known to me, would never understand, if he even cared any longer. Two years was a long time, but that sixty-nine days had seemed even longer. I sunk back in my first-class seat. Actually, sixty-nine days had not been long enough.
My heart pinched, as it often did when I thought of Tack. He’d been nothing to me when I first met him. He’d been part of my ruin. Eventually, he’d grown to be my everything. And then we were ripped apart. I trusted he would be safe. I believed he was rescued, as I had been, and later I learned that he had been retrieved. But all of that truth came to me after Lillian didn’t get what she wanted.
I’d committed a crime, and Lillian Varga wanted to study a new process of retribution called restorative justice. Based on the Native American culture, which believed healing was a circular experience, I was sent to a remote island to reflect on my poor decision. The idea was to be reflective of what I’d done, in hopes I would come to terms with it and find the means to rectify the injustice. I had also been a victim first, so Lillian had changed things up a bit. She wanted to study a person who would be forced to interact with her perpetrator. I was her lab rat. A mouse.
While I hated her for using me, I had no understanding of Tack’s position in the process. Had he volunteered? Had he played a role? Had he used me again? Was it all a ploy to get what he initially wanted from me? What did he get out of the experience? For me, I’d fallen in love with one of my aggressors. It was a sad state of affairs and didn’t help my emotional recovery once I was back on the mainland.
“Dinner will be served shortly.” The male attendant moved behind me, and Miller’s eyes followed. He not-so-subtly hummed in appreciation. I snapped my fingers.
“Focus,” I demanded. “What’s the plan?”
“The plan is we pretend we are married.”
“Never going to buy it,” I replied, hitching a thumb over my shoulder and indicating the flight attendant.
“How about engaged?”
“Too cliché,” I said, slumping back in my seat.
“How about the truth?” Miller suggested, raising one brow.
“I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t come back for you. Hope you were okay.’”
“He’s obviously doing just fine for himself,” Miller snarked, and I recalled the article I read. He started a new company shortly after returning from the island. Something in environmental studies and clean water distribution. He’d grown from something small to mega-sized in the first year of his business and he was named the one-to-watch for his ruthless corporate mindset. He understood international politics and seemed to have mastered the art of getting around them. He’d also been named Bachelor of the Year, keeping the secrecy of the blonde woman often seen on his arm by referring to her only as a family friend.
My head lunged backward to knock on the headrest. I was a fool, I told myself for the millionth time in as many days. A man like him would never be interested in a girl like me outside the island. I’d actually said that to him once.
“It’s because I’m the only girl on the island.” He’d been attracted to me because I was the only female in sight.
“It’s too dark without you. And you’re too far away when you go.” The words whispered in my head. He could be so sweet, charming even, and I missed him. My brows pinched, and I closed my eyes, wishing to drown out thoughts of him. His mouth on mine. His hands on me. Him deep inside me. My eyes flicked open, willing the memories away. It wasn’t meant to happen how it did. It wasn’t going to happen again. He’d moved on, in every way.
Things came easy to him, he’d told me, and the long write-up about his recent history proved they had once again. He’d returned to his world as if nothing happened. He’d claimed he’d taken a sabbatical, a route to discover what he wanted from his life. He’d traveled, he’d told the journalist. He’d become one with nature, he teased, and it inspired him to consider a new course of action for his industry. There was no mention of what caused him to be on his sabbatical, as he called it. He’d gotten away with everything.
In many ways, I was proud of what he had gone on to accomplish. The idea of him building rather than destroying was an improvement, but I had no idea if building involved destroying first. On the other hand, I despised him again. When I returned to my tiny corner of the world, I discovered Lillian’s corrupt plan, and my world fell apart again. I had nothing other than what I returned with from the island—a few clothes, some field notes, an aching heart, and a book. A prized possession. Absentmindedly, I reached down for my satchel bag under the seat before me and fingered the outside pocket. The outline of a rectangular object proved the item was safe. I sat back in momentary relief.
I had the next nine hours and twenty-four minutes to worry about everything else.