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I followed him inside, running my fingers over the opulent finishings. Everything worked so well with the glass and teak exterior. There was a large open plan living area to the right of the property with sunken leather sofas surrounding an open fire with a sleek chimney extending upwards through the space. One wall was covered with twisting, moulded wood to look like roots and vines taking over. The kitchen sparkled in a way which made me a little afraid to actually use it lest I ruin the shine. Not that I intended on cooking. We had a chef at home and I wasn’t so gifted in the cooking department. I certainly wouldn’t be cooking for my husband. God, even thinking the word made me shudder.
Cameron disappeared through the middle of the building toward the left side, and I followed with my case. He placed his case neatly on the bed and took out his perfectly folded clothes, hanging them in a nearby hidden wardrobe, which magically opened when he waved a hand over a tiny glass square.
‘Where’s my room?’ I asked, awkwardly hovering near the door.
‘This is the only room.’ He clipped his words in a way that let me know he wasn’t keen on the situation, either.
‘We can’t be expected to share a room.’ My grip tightened on the handle of my case. I could not spend a week sleeping next to him. It had been a relief when he hadn’t reappeared on the wedding night.
‘Unless you want to take an outdoor hammock or a sofa, this is what we have.’
I looked from the bed to the in-room shower and bath, neither of which was in a separate room. The toilet must have been at least.
Shit.
Cameron unbuttoned his shirt, and I ducked out of the room at the first hint of chest hair.
Nope.
He hadn’t looked the least bit perturbed by my presence as he undressed.
I sighed and rolled my case back to the sitting room, abandoning it to go back outdoors. The pool area had an outdoor rain shower with dispensers for shampoo, conditioner, a divine smelling body wash and sun cream. I dolloped some cream into my hands and spread it over my exposed shoulders, arms and legs. There were piles of soft towels in glass covered recesses by the showers and a small bar area loaded with drinks.
I helped myself to a glass of white wine before kicking off my shoes and walking out toward the sea. The water lapped deliciously between my toes as I stared off into the distance, watching as the sun dipped nearer the horizon.
How the hell was Harold funding all of this? There was plenty of money in the crime world, but drugs, bribery and fraud didn’t pay to owning an island in the Caribbean levels in Scotland. Harold didn’t come from money. His father started off much lower in crime and had reached little higher than the drug dealer level by the time Harold and my dad joined in during their teenage years. When they’d paired up, they’d done pretty well for themselves. They’d climbed to as close to the top as they could get before setting up their own syndicate. Harold had never been one for following rules, and soon enough their own morals had them tearing each other apart. They’d gone their own ways by the time us kids had come along. Harold must be involved in some dirty shit to be so wealthy.
I was going to find that awful shit and upend it all over him. People would turn against him if whatever it was was bad enough. Police bribes could only go so far. Syndicate loyalty had an upper limit.
As the sun gave way to the night, I walked back along the warm sand to the beach house, washing my feet off under the shower before sitting at the edge of the pool and dipping my toes in.
Cameron came out and ignored me, slipping into the pool as I tried to look anywhere except at his abs and thighs. Which was hard as he kept swimming past me. He cut through the water with ease, and he didn’t even spare me a glance. It was like we were on two separate honeymoons.
I couldn’t help but notice that he had raised strips of skin lacing his back. Old scars crisscrossed from his tailbone to his shoulder blades and by how thick and raised they were, something awful must have inflicted them. Repeated and awful. They were layered scar upon scar. I shuddered as he slipped through the water.
‘What happened?’ I asked as he stood at the far end of the lane pool and swept the water from his face.
‘None of your business.’
His eyes slid briefly to my exposed thighs before he grunted and climbed out of the pool, grabbing a towel and heading back indoors.
Nothing seemed to get to him. He acted like he was an emotionless drone, but I’d seen beneath his facade. Only briefly. But there had been heat there. If it was the only way to get answers, I was going to have to use that internalised lust to get him talking. If there was one way to a man’s secrets, it was via his dick. I had no intention of actually sleeping with him. Ever. But if I could trick him into believing I might, it might sufficiently loosen his tongue.
And where better to tease him to the point of desperation than on a paradise island secluded from the rest of the world? Proximity would have to be my ally.
If I could stomach it.
CHAPTER NINE
CAMERON
The gentle slosh of water woke me.
It took me a moment to remember where I was. Not in Glasgow, but in my own private hell.
We’d eaten separately the previous night, and she hadn’t come to bed. I’d slept fitfully, worried that she’d slip into bed and slit my throat once I was asleep, not trusting her an ounce.
The splashing continued, and I turned my head to the floor to ceiling window that looked out over the deck and pool to the ocean beyond.
