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He sucked in a grim breath. Faye should be told, of course. But what if it was all a huge coincidence? What if Luigi hadn’t gone to England purposely to seek out Faye’s mother? What if—

His gut tightened as soft, warm fingers slid over his nape. Inhaling sharply at the pulse of pleasure that burst to life inside him, he glanced up.

Faye stepped in front of him, another hesitant smile playing at her lips. ‘Any reason why you’re so grumpy at your own party?’

‘Perhaps because I don’t like parties?’

She tilted her head, her long hair swinging over one shoulder. ‘And yet you keep throwing them...’ she mused.

He shrugged, not quite seeing the point in divulging that she was the reason he was throwing this one in particular, after overhearing her express sadness that she wouldn’t see the plantation workers and their families again. Why her mournful expression had triggered him into having his privacy disrupted for the better part of an afternoon he chose to ignore, in favour of pulling her into his lap.

She came with a willingness that smothered a layer of his disgruntlement. And when she leaned into him he refused to name the sensation powering through him. Although it closely resembled...elation.

‘It’s our last day on the island. I thought it appropriate to mark it in some way,’ he said.

‘There are many ways to celebrate. You picked one that involved all your employees. Are you trying to hide the fact that you like to give back?’

He lowered his head until their foreheads touched. ‘Give me an hour or two and I’ll show you just how much I can give back,’ he suggested gruffly.

She laughed, and the sound transmitted itself straight through his blood into his chest.

She started to rise. His grip tightened on her convulsively.

‘Maceo...?’

Thoughts crowded his head—the uppermost one being the fact that he needed to come clean. About his suspicions over Luigi and Pietro. About his investigations. About the letter.

But until he was absolutely certain, why risk causing her hurt by raking open old wounds? Why alarm her unnecessarily if all this turned out to be false?

‘Go. Enjoy yourself. But be warned that I intend to throw everyone off the beach in an hour. I wish to be alone with you.’

She blushed, and another pulse of pleasure unravelled inside him. She was truly a sublime novelty. Enough for him to silently extend himself a little more time to explore the uniqueness of it all.

‘Okay. I’ll go and warn them, so they’re not completely horrified when it happens.’

‘Grande. Go,’ he instructed, then countered his command by pulling her close and slanting his mouth over hers.

Maceo didn’t care who saw. She was his. For now. Until he did his duty.

Her soft moan brought that peculiar lightness to his chest once more. He tugged her closer, kissed her with a boldness that announced to every male in the vicinity that she was his. When he was thoroughly satisfied that he’d made his point, he released her.

She scrambled away from him with a dazed look. In that moment, temporarily satisfied with his world, and the knowledge that whatever his report brought he would deal with it adequately, Maceo raised his glass to his lips and drained the punch.

* * *

‘You’re brooding again.’

Faye immediately hated herself for blurting out the observation. It wasn’t as if Maceo was ever overly talkative. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d grown increasingly laconic over the last few days, prompting her need to discover why earlier at the party.

She’d walked away with no answers, just a kiss that had left her insides shivery. Hours later, she was no further enlightened.

Was he bored already? Had their chemistry fizzled out so soon for him?

The dismay thickening in her gut didn’t shock her. She’d sensed this coming, but foolishly buried her head in the sand.

‘Tell me about New Paths,’ he said abruptly. ‘How long has your mother been there?’

She froze as tiny ice droplets slid down her spine. ‘Why?’

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