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She stared at the shiny object sitting in his palm. The symbol of so much happiness and angst housed in a plain, shiny gold band gleamed back at her like a point of no return. Her wedding ring. Actually, her second wedding ring if you were to be technical about it. The first she’d lost scrubbing for surgery, something Coburn had never forgiven her for.
“You kept it.”
He picked up her left hand and slid the ring on her finger. She had never seen the practicality of a large diamond with the job that she had, so it had only ever been this simple band that had declared her his.
Their gazes met and held as she looked up. “This time it stays, Diana. Through the good and the bad.”
She wondered which would prevail for them. Coburn bent his head to her ear. “Stop thinking and enjoy the evening.”
She gave it her best shot as he guided her to the car and drove up the hillside to the fabulous Kent villa perched on the cliff. Her speculation from that day in the sea was confirmed. The view from the low-lying, Italian-inspired structure was outrageously stunning. Sheer rock face plunged down to pristine, glittering stretches of golden-sand beach, where white-foamed waves crashed up onto the shore in a testament to the power of nature.
Coburn had told her Arthur had purchased the island for ten million dollars five years ago. A ten-million-dollar view it certainly was.
A butler directed them to the terrace that overlooked the sea. Torches burned brightly, illuminating a crowd of perhaps a dozen guests with champagne glasses in their hands. The wealthy elite of Arthur’s world, Diana pegged them, the perfectly coiffed hairstyles of the women and the exquisite cocktail dresses they wore as casually as if they’d stuck a hand in the closet and thrown on the first thing they came up with, telling. As were the jewels that sparkled from their well-tanned skin.
A tall, thin man with an elegant stature broke away from the group and came toward them, a smile on his face. His features were expressive rather than handsome, a crooked nose highlighting his sharply drawn, aristocratic features. Arthur Kent, she surmised, from the warm greeting he gave her husband.
Inquisitive hazel eyes turned to her. She had the sensation of being thoroughly analyzed before Arthur bent and pressed a kiss to both her cheeks. “So I finally get to meet the lovely Diana.”
“You have a very beautiful home,” she said smoothly. “Thank you for allowing us to visit.”
He lifted a hand. “You are welcome anytime. I keep telling Coburn that, but he is too caught up in the rush of being a big-time CEO now to take me up on it.”
“Not too busy to pick your brain tonight,” Coburn responded, a wry smile curving his lips. “I would like to if you don’t mind.”
She wondered if her husband wanted to ask Arthur for his advice on whatever was happening at Grant that was making him so distracted. She wasn’t to find out as Arthur’s wife, Dana, joined them along with their two young boys. Nine and seven, Maciah and James were utterly charming miniature versions of their dark-haired British mother, who was easily twenty years younger than the airline magnate. A trophy wife, she wondered, because surely she was stunning, but Diana quickly saw it was much more than that. The Kents were a vivacious, happy clan who had moved to the island upon Arthur’s early retirement to escape the pressures of their former life. It was clear they had learned the secret of living, and it was not based on how much money they had in the bank.
When Arthur told the sports-obsessed boys Coburn had played competitive soccer in school, they pleaded with her husband to kick a ball around the yard. Never one to resist a sporting activity of any ilk, Coburn passed his drink to her and good-naturedly trailed after the two rambunctious boys.
“You don’t have a drink,” Dana commented. “Shall I get you a glass of champagne?”
“Actually, orange juice and soda would be lovely.”
A speculative glimmer entered her hostess’s eyes but she was too polite to comment. She went off to retrieve the drink from the bartender while Diana and Arthur watched the boys chase Coburn around the yard. Her husband expertly faked and deked, keeping the ball out of their possession with tricks that made them laugh and chase harder. The tension faded from his face for the first time in days as he laughed along with them.
“He’s good with children.” Arthur rested his forearms on the railing and watched the game. “He told me once he wasn’t sure he wanted any. I thought that strange given his love of life. He jumps into everything with his head and heart fully immersed, damn the consequences. It’s a great example for a child. Fear kills so many dreams.”
