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If there was something he had over his wise older brother, it was the knowledge that life required living. To tie his identity to a role, to a job that was inherently vulnerable to any number of agenda seekers, was not how he wanted to live his life. He wanted that elusive balance no one ever seemed to find.
He finished the brandy on a last smooth, fiery gulp. He knew his future now. He intended on making Grant the most powerful car-parts manufacturer in the world, so indelibly the analysts would stop comparing him with his saintlike brother and recognize his brilliance for what it was.
But that wasn’t what he was here to do. He was here to put his marriage back together, and that involved some truth on his part, as well. He had used those women to get Diana out of his head. To satisfy the numbness he craved. And, admittedly, if he was to be honest, to punish her for leaving him.
He had been addicted to distraction. Addicted to never letting himself care because that had been the example set for him by his own parents.
Had it cost him his marriage?
A chime sounded an incoming email. He pushed his focus back to the screen of his computer. And read the email that changed everything.
CHAPTER NINE
“BRING HER AROUND!”
Coburn’s shout was eaten up by the roar of the wind and the water. Diana nodded and eased up on the headsail to turn them toward the cove he was pointing to. The thrill of commanding such a big, beautiful boat washed over her like a shot of adrenaline. She tacked sharply again to bring them all the way around so they were headed directly into the mouth of the bay. Her blood pumped in her veins as they sped over the sea like the smoothest of silk. She’d forgotten how much she loved the spray of the water on her face, the freedom of flying across it and how perfectly she and her husband worked together when it was just them, sweating it out in tandem to master the elements.
Riding a strong gust of wind, the sleek sixty-five footer cruised toward the shore. Coburn eased off on the mainsheet and slowed them into an easy, graceful glide. Expertly, effortlessly he brought them within striking distance of the shore, and they dropped anchor.
She helped him secure the boat, then dropped to the sun-soaked deck, her breath coming in shallow, harsh pulls. Her limbs felt weighted down, heavy. She leaned back on her forearms and took in deep, restorative pulls of air while Coburn went downstairs to get their lunch. This pregnancy was not only making her nauseous, it was zapping her of all of her energy.
It was nearly one o’clock, the sun blazing right above them in a perfect, cloudless blue sky. She drank in the idyllic little cove they were moored in. Surrounded by palm trees and bounded by a stretch of pristine white sand beach, it looked as if it had never seen a human trespasser.
They were in the British Virgin Islands, Coburn had revealed this morning, nestled within a cluster of private islands owned by the world’s richest men. Inaccessible to anyone but those issued an exclusive invitation to explore such nirvana.
She closed her eyes and drank in the heat. Her husband emerged from below deck with a picnic basket and two glasses, a pair of low-slung navy swim trunks and a Yale T-shirt his only adornment. His innate grace, the way the athlete in him used his strong, muscular thighs to steady himself as he moved across the swaying boat, drew her eye. The sun was already picking up his natural tendency toward a swarthy, dark complexion, emphasizing the magnetic blue of his eyes, no less hypnotizing than the vast sea behind him.
He was still the most physically beautiful male she’d ever encountered. Hands down.
“All yours, sweetheart.” He caught her stare, dumping the picnic basket beside her and lowering himself to the deck. “Take what you will.”
She closed her eyes to the magnificence of him. She’d lain awake after he’d left her last night thinking about his offer. Thinking about how she shouldn’t be thinking about it. He was utterly unselfish when it came to pleasing a woman, wickedly sensual in his methods.
“You can’t help it, can you?” She jumped as he purred the words in her ear. “Was my offer last night a little too tempting?”
“Hardly.” She shimmied to the side to put some distance between them. “I meant what I said, Coburn.”
“You forget I know every variation of you. Every expression. That was lust.”
She closed her eyes. “It’s the pregnancy hormones talking.”
The sound of the waves lapping against the boat filled her ears. His soft laughter joined it. “I had no idea pregnancy increased a woman’s sex drive. I would have thought the opposite.”
