Page 55 of Return to the Island

29

Two months later

Tack

“You wired the money, right?” I confirmed with my secretary, Helena, for the hundredth time.

“Yes, direct deposit from a private, untraceable account.” She read the number off once again, and I thanked heaven for a best friend who was a private investigator.

“And then you called Miller James.”

Helena nodded once. “I waited on the phone while I asked him to check the bank account. I explained that I was a representative for the donor and wanted to confirm the receipt of the donation for our records. I did not tell him who the donor was.” She sighed, exasperated with my confirming everything one more time.

Eight point five million dollars. The commercial property had earned her organization a sizable donation that would have to be explained to her board of directors. A trust fund, the false donor stated. A woman who had been helped after an awful situation and left the money to Juliet Monte, formerly Juliet Montmore.

There was no forwarding phone number. I wished I could see her face when she saw that dollar amount or when Miller started calculating all they could do with it to help others. He was passionate about their group, as his presentation months ago proved when he’d come to St. Croix. The false pretense of my donation challenge hadn’t been exposed then. The Mouse Trap would always have won, but feeling guilty about the hurricane and the false pretense for the other organizations, I gave them each $500,000 for their causes as well.

“Are you sure you don’t want to just call her and explain everything?” Helena asked, her older eyes filled with sympathy stared at me over my wide desk.

“No,” I snapped. Helena was used to my harsh tone and moody disposition. I’d grown worse in some ways over the last two months, but I’d done the right thing.

Juliet couldn’t look at me. Her eyes avoided mine that night, even as we fucked, even when I made love to her, sculpting every inch of her body under my hands. She refused to look me in the eye. The one time she said she loved me, she hesitated. And I had no one to blame but me. I wanted to fault my father for his disapproval, my mother for her warning, and fucking Rory for touching her, but it all circled back to me. I was the cause of her pain, even as I attempted to give her pleasure. Every stroke. Every lick. Every kiss. I tried to bring her back to me, but I’d already lost the tie.

“Flight information was sent to your phone. The car is waiting for you downstairs.” Helena nodded again, militant like she could be. Her stare was sharp, disapproving, but still sympathetic. Somehow, she knew everything without me telling her all the details. “If I might add…”

“You can’t,” I said, holding up a hand. Her mouth popped open and then her lips pursed, accentuating her wrinkles. It wasn’t the first time I’d thought of Juliet, growing old with her and wondering what she would look like. She’d always be beautiful, I decided.

I shrugged on my jacket and took the elevator down to the lobby. I was headed to St. Croix to torture myself with memories and give myself a much-needed break from Baltimore’s impending winter. I would work remotely from the island for a bit. Or give myself some time off. Either way, I couldn’t stay here any longer knowing she was so close, but so far away.

I’ll find you, I wrote. But I knew where she was. Branson kept occasional tabs. I ignored the phone calls from Miller. Juliet hadn’t tried to contact me. It was better this way. She needed to move on. She was stronger than ever. Stronger than she knew. Her business would be thriving, and she’d have other things to occupy her mind. Unlike me, who lived with her constant presence in my brain. She continued to creep into my thoughts, under my skin, and into the palm of my hand that wrapped too often around myself, jerking off to memories of her.

+ +

I landed in sunny St. Croix and crossed the tarmac for the airport. Collecting my bags, I found my driver waiting and inhaled the tropical air as I watched my bags being placed in the trunk. Big mistake. The instant I smelled that familiar scent, my heart ached. I rubbed at the space above my left pec as I’d done occasionally over the last two months, pressing against the pain, knowing it wasn’t physical, but still internal.

I missed her.

I stared out the window, the view of the turquoise sea calming me only slightly. I couldn’t wait to take Vixen 2 for a run, but the thought reminded me of the maiden voyage and proposing to Juliet.

I’ll go wherever you lead. Only I’d led her astray. I’d taken her to the one place she never wanted to return and put her in a position where the same thing nearly happened again. I’d told her I’d protect her, that it would never happen again. Thankfully, it hadn’t, but I still felt like I’d failed her.

“Boss,” Marco met me at the entrance to the resort, his smile wide as he opened the door for me. I removed my coat after arriving and handed it to him, asking him if he could have it sent to my room with my things. I headed for the bar, ordering a bourbon from Brenda. She was a pretty thing, but I didn’t have any interest. I hadn’t been with anyone in two months. No one prior to that for nearly six. Juliet had ruined me.

My palm twitched with thoughts of her under me. Her eyes, when she could look at me. I downed the bourbon, thanking Brenda with a generous tip, and decided it was time to face my room. Memories of her would be everywhere in there, but I deserved the torture. Going back was the only way forward, or so I once thought. I’d taken her back to Baltimore, and it had been a huge mistake.

Different but the same. What a lie I told. I felt the same, but everything else was different, and I shouldn’t have gone back. I shouldn’t have put her under the microscope of my parents. I hadn’t spoken to them again after what happened. I’d severed ties with Abby once and for all. Rory already got my message. Juliet was mine, and if he came anywhere near her, I’d take care of him, like she took care of his brother. I really didn’t think our circles would cross again. With the club gone, I had no need to go to that part of Baltimore.

I untucked my dress shirt, preparing for some rest. I’d taken an overnight flight, and it was messing with my internal time clock. Stripping down to only boxer briefs, I collapsed on the bed, drawing the sheet halfway up my body and darkening the shades. Restless sleep took me as it did each night. Memories of Juliet in this bed haunted me more, and I moaned under her touch. Her lips pressed to my skin, and I sighed in relief that she was near. My nose twitched with the scent of her—so rich, vibrant, tropical.

Mouse, I groaned in my sleep.

Tack, she whispered back to me, her breath warm in my ear, sending tingles over my skin. The sound was breathless, like she could be under me. I squirmed against the comfort of the mattress. Warmth pressed against my back, and I spun. It took my eyes a moment to focus, my head rolling on the pillow, clarifying my surroundings.

Redemption Resort.

My private rooms.

Juliet.