Page 27 of His Demands

He kisses my forehead and gives my hand a squeeze. I feel a pang of longing as he pulls away. "Enjoy your day," he says, his voice carrying a note of regret.

After he leaves, I'm struck by the sudden silence, the absence of his presence. The cottage feels too big, too empty without him. I shake off the feeling, telling myself this is just a temporary thing, a fun interlude in an otherwise practical arrangement.

The ocean stretches out before me in endless shades of blue. The breeze plays with my hair, and I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the salty air. This is my time to relax, to soak in the beauty of this place.

But as I walk, my mind drifts back to Ivan, to the moments we've shared. I’m experiencing a confusing mix of emotions; the joy of newfound passion, the uncertainty of what it all means, the reality of our circumstances. I came here as his wife in name only, but now, I'm not so sure what I am.

The nearby resort's main building looms ahead. As I enter the cool, air-conditioned lobby, I head straight for the gift shop. I peruse the many beautiful items before heading over to the book section, choosing a best seller with reviews that assure me it’s a great ‘beach read.’

I find a quiet spot on the beach, the waves lapping gently at the shore. Settling down, I open the book and let my thoughts wander, the sound of the ocean a soothing backdrop to my reflections.

I begin to read but my mind is far from relaxed. I can't help but wonder about Ivan's intentions. Is this week in paradise a glimpse into a future filled with romance and passion, or is it just a temporary escape from reality, a brief interlude in an otherwise transactional relationship?

His behavior this week has been anything but businesslike. The way he looks at me, touches me, kisses me, it's as if he's truly present, truly with me as my husband. But when business calls, he slips back into the world of deals and decisions, leaving me adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

And what about the future? The child we've agreed to have—will he be as attentive and caring with our baby as he's been with me this week? I stopped taking my birth control the day I signed the prenup, as we agreed. It's a commitment, a step toward something real and lasting. But can I trust that he'll be there, not just physically, but emotionally too?

I shake my head, trying to dispel the doubts. I'm reading too much into this, overthinking things. I know Ivan; I've seen how he operates. He's a workaholic but he's also shown a side of himself that's kind, romantic, and seemingly genuine in his desire for a child. I can't imagine him being anything but a devoted father.

Still, the nagging doubts linger. What happens when we return home? Will we slip back into our roles of CEO and assistant, even though he said that I would no longer be working as his PA? Will the passion and connection of the tropics fade like a dream upon waking?

I chastise myself for the pessimistic thoughts. I need to enjoy every moment in this incredible place, savor the now. Worrying about the future, about what might or might not happen, is a surefire way to spoil the present.

I make a conscious decision to push aside my worries. I'm in a tropical paradise, with a man who, for all his complexities, has shown me a world of pleasure and affection I never knew existed.

I’m determined to enjoy it while it lasts.

I focus back on the book, settling in for a quiet, relaxing afternoon.

Chapter 17

Ivan

The boardwalk beneath my feet is a familiar path now, leading back to the private cottage where Julie waits.

The sun is setting, casting a golden hue over the ocean, a picturesque scene that belies the turmoil in my mind. Julie's disappointment earlier was palpable, a silent accusation that I'm not fully present, not fully committed to this honeymoon of ours.

I made plans for tomorrow to make up for today's absence. I have arranged for activities that I know will delight Julie; experiences designed to create memories we'll both cherish. Yet as I make my way back, a nagging unease settles over me.

The sound of voices behind me pulls me from my thoughts. I slow my pace, my senses heightened. The voices are masculine, carrying a tone that doesn't quite fit the serene surroundings. I turn, my gaze landing on two men dressed in boating attire.

They don't look like typical tourists or locals. There's a certain alertness in their posture, a readiness that's out of place in this relaxed setting. My instincts—honed from years in a world where trust is a luxury and danger often lurks in the shadows—kick in. I assess them quickly, noting their build, the way they carry themselves, the way they scan their surroundings.

Our cottage is secluded, the last one on this stretch of the boardwalk. The presence of these men is no coincidence. I feel a surge of protectiveness, an instinctive need to get to Julie as quickly as I can.

As they continue to approach, my body tenses, ready for a confrontation. Every scenario runs through my mind, each one ending with me ensuring Julie's safety. However, just as I'm preparing to confront them, to demand what business they have, they veer off the path, disappearing down a narrow trail marked 'Employees Only.'

I watch them go; my suspicion not entirely abated. Their sudden change of direction does little to convince me of their innocence. I make a mental note of their appearance and the direction they took.

In my world, caution is always warranted, and I can't afford to let my guard down, not even in paradise.

As I stride onto the deck of the cottage I notice Julie, completely absorbed in her book. The title catches my eye: 'Tangled Hearts.’ It appears to be a light, fun romance novel, the kind that promises escapism and a touch of whimsy. I can't help but smile at her choice, so different from the business and strategy books that fill my own shelves.

I clear my throat lightly and Julie looks up, her expression shifting from the dreamy haze of the book's contents to the present moment. "Enjoying your read?" I ask, a teasing note in my voice.

She grins, closing the book and setting it aside. "Oh, absolutely. Nothing like a good romance to distract you on a lazy beach day," she replies, her tone playful.

I lean against the railing, watching her. "I must admit, I've never understood the appeal of those kinds of books. Don't they all have the same plot?" I ask, genuinely curious.

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