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“Hard work,” he’d told her once. “But my father loved it. I think he took me along to show me what possibilities were out there, what I could do if I worked hard enough. And to make sure I didn’t get pulled into the drug trade.”
He’d spoken so matter-of-factly about it, told her the night of the bonfire about how he and his mother had fled Brazil after his father had resisted pressure from a local drug cartel to use construction equipment from the company he worked for to smuggle drugs into Europe, and paid for it with his life. His mother hadn’t wasted any time in escaping to the US with her son before the cartel could come after them, too.
A fact her own father had held over her head days later when he’d told her that someone from the bonfire had told their parents, who had informed him that his daughter was “whoring herself to a common gardener.”
“I’ll be damned if the money I spent on your Ivy League education gets thrown down the drain so you can get pregnant by some opportunistic crook,” David had said in that cold voice he used when he’d been trying to keep a hold on his temper.
“He loves me!” Alexandra had retorted in her first display of independence. “And I love him!”
Her father had laughed in her face.
“He doesn’t love you, Alexandra. He loves your money and whatever you’ve been doing with him this summer that he could find with any other woman.”
Still reeling from the harsh cruelty of his insults, she had scrambled backward when he’d stood and advanced on her, backing her into the shelves of the library.
“Break it off with him tomorrow or I will make sure he and his mother are sent back to Brazil before the end of the weekend.”
“He could be killed!”
Even now, the memory of her father’s merciless smile made her shiver.
“That’s the idea.”
She and Finn had barely been talking at that point. She’d also realized, as she’d scrolled through her phone trying to think of someone who could help her, that she didn’t have anyone other than Grant she could depend on.
A realization that had left her numb as she’d sat on her bed, surrounded by silk sheets, handcrafted Italian furniture and a balcony that overlooked the Atlantic. A princess trapped in a beautiful prison.
She’d stayed up late scouring websites, blogs, even contacted an immigration advocate organization the next morning. But she’d known the whole time that she was throwing pebbles against a giant stone wall. David Waldsworth had the money and contacts to make anything happen, including sending Grant and his mother back to face danger and possibly even their own deaths.
So she’d done it. She’d broken Grant’s heart, and her own, to keep him safe.
Yet, she reflected as the helicopter touched down, had she really tried? She could make the argument that Grant’s and his mother’s lives had been at stake. But her whole life she’d been a doormat. Like at the bonfire, letting her former schoolmates say such hurtful things to the man she’d claimed to love. She hadn’t been able to fully stand up to David until he’d been behind bars in an orange jumpsuit, cut off from the world and most of his resources that he could have used to retaliate.
She thought she’d grown stronger over the years. Standing up to her landlord and threatening to move out was not something the old her would have done.
But she’d still given in by moving in in the first place.
By the time the pilot circled around to open the door, she was thoroughly immersed in a pool of self-pity.
Great way to start off your first big job.
“Are you all right?”
She looked up to see Grant watching her with an eagle-eyed stare. She mustered a smile that probably looked as fake as it felt.
“Of course. Just thinking.”
He knew she was lying. She could tell by the slight tightening of his lips, the deepening of the crinkles by his eyes. But he didn’t pursue it. Instead, he hopped out and turned back, extending his hand to her.
She accepted his offer of help as she alighted from the helicopter...and nearly yanked her hand back at the sensual electricity that crackled between them. If she’d thought their accidental brushing the other night had been intense, it was nothing compared to the heat that swept through her body as his fingers closed over hers. Slowly, she looked up to see his gaze fixed on hers, fire burning so hot she could barely breathe. Was it anger making his eyes glimmer like molten amber? Or something else, something far more dangerous and intoxicating?
Somehow, she managed not to fall out of the helicopter, to place one foot in front of the other and step down to the helipad. Grant kept her hand in his until they reached the grass. He dropped her hand and turned to the pilot, conversing with him as if the world hadn’t just trembled.
She turned away and faced the ocean. Maybe she should have gone on dates with some of the men Finn and Amanda had offered to set her up with. Maybe she should have tried to get out more. Because then she wouldn’t be acting like she was still a nineteen-year-old college co-ed who couldn’t get her first love out of her system.
Grant strode toward the house. She followed, widening her steps to keep up with his fast pace as they crossed the cobblestone driveway and walked up onto a stunning front porch, complete with thick pillars, white rocking chairs and fans that whirred lazily overhead.
“This is beautiful.”
