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I blink. “You’re building a resort on my island?” I know it’s been a while since I’ve been home, but it hasn’t been that long. I mentally search through the conversations with my family. Nope, I don’t remember them mentioning a resort.

And you didn’t ask.I ignore the pang of guilt in my stomach. I’m not great at keeping in touch with people.

And for not great, read,absolutely terrible.

“Hudson’s island,” he corrects. “And mine and Parker’s.”

I grimace, because technically he’s right. A few years ago, Hudson, Parker, and West – my brother and his two best friends – bought most of the island back after my dad gambled it away. Then they renovated the old Victorian Grand Liberty Hotel that had been rotting on the cliffs for years.

But it’s still my island, at least in my heart. The place where I climbed trees barefoot and swam until my skin wrinkled. Where everything smelled like ocean salt and honeysuckle and second chances.

And maybe that’s why I haven’t been back in so long.

Because even now, thinking about Liberty still feels a little like failure.

“You were going to Liberty anyway,” West says with an easy voice, dragging me out of my thoughts. “To see your sister. So this just… extends your stay a little.”

I stare at him, because of course he makes this sound easy. “You’re unbelievable, do you know that? I’m only going to Liberty for a visit. A quick one. Maybe a week at most. I wasn’t planning to take a damn honeymoon.”

His brows lift. “We won’t be honeymooning.”

“Good, because you’re not my type.” I wrinkle my nose. I’m annoyed now, with him and with myself.

He ignores me – of course he does – and continues like this is some kind of strategy meeting. “You’ll stay at the North House with me. It’s furnished. Quiet. Ocean views. And far enough from the hotel to keep things under wraps.”

“What’s the North House?” I ask. There’s no north house on Liberty Island.

“The one I had built last year for extended site visits. And contingencies like this.”

Oh. That’s so typically him, building a whole house while I wasn’t looking. For a year. He already has an apartment at the main hotel, the greedy asshole.

“You built a secret Bond villain lair on my island?” I say, mostly because I want to annoy him. Good god, they’re going to Disney-fy the most beautiful place I know. And I don’t like it. Not one little bit.

“It’s not your island,” he corrects, cool as ever. “And it’s not a secret. If you ever visited you would have heard all about this.”

I blink. “Let me get this straight. You want me to stay in your secret house, pretend to be your wife, and what? Knit your socks while you and your mobbed-up investor play house?”

“You don’t need to pretend to be my wife. Not publicly. That would raise questions with your family that we don’t need.” He says it like he’s reading off a PowerPoint. “The marriage is between you and me. Nobody close to us needs to know.” He clears his throat. “And never mention the mob to my investor. He’d hate that.”

I fling my arms up. “Then what’s the point in us staying married?”

“I don’t want to rock the boat until the money comes in. Once it does, you can do whatever you like. That’s fine by me.”

I scowl. “I don’t believe this. You’re using me to make money.”

He meets my gaze, unflinching. “Look at it this way. As my wife, you can have an input into the resort. Tell me where I’m being unenvironmentally friendly. Give me suggestions for improvement.”

I hate that my body warms at this. But I really am passionate about ecology. “You want my advice?”

“We can call you Head of Environmental Development,” he says, smiling because he can tell I’m interested. “If you love Liberty as much as you say, you’ll want to protect it.”

I fold my arms, my eyes narrowing. “That’s bribery. And not a real job.”

“It’s absolutely a real job. And that’s what we’re going to tell Hudson and your family. And that’s why you’ll insist on staying at the North House, because you don’t trust me not to screw up the island’s ecosystem.”

“Where will you stay?” I ask him. And this time he laughs. I want to slap his stupidly handsome face.

“With you. At my house.”