Beach Thriller(61)

But she was held in place by an invisible force. Conrad slept soundly beside her. His soft, gentle breathing was hypnotic, luring her back under the sheets.

He was the anchor and she couldn’t break free. The guesthouse was her castle, and she, the princess, bound by a magic spell—or was it a curse?

A fragrant cinnamon candle flickered on a nearby nightstand, its flame whispering to her, just as it always did during their interludes high up on the bluff, where she had a dreamy view of the sapphire sea. Go. Leave him. You’re only going to get hurt.

But she never left, and the candle flickered on, its warning unheeded.

What would her family say? Anna could easily fill in the blanks. Her sister’s voice rang loud in her guilty conscience: Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind? Do you have a death wish?

No—she had a life wish.

She nestled closer to Conrad, trying to quiet the storm of guilt coursing through her veins. She thought back to their first kiss in the guesthouse. How could something so sweet be so wrong? It was the most natural thing she had done in her life.

She hadn’t planned for a kiss to turn into an affair. It amazed her how easily she had fallen into the role of the “other woman.” That part took no effort at all. The real challenge was keeping it a secret. The guesthouse offered them a refuge: a place for her and Conrad to be together, away from prying eyes. But she couldn’t hide from her own shame.

She pushed on his shoulder, and his eyes fluttered open. He blinked, dazed, still basking in the haze of his afterglow. He had made promises to her when their bodies were entwined, when she was doing things to him that nobody had ever done before. Would he remember? Would he honor his words? Or was he toying with her emotions?

This wasn’t a game for her. She wasn’t playing around. Love wasn’t something to trifle with. He should know that broken hearts had incredibly sharp edges.

“Is it morning already?” he asked languidly.

“I need to know,” she replied.

He sat up in bed, and she pressed her body against him. How she loved the feel of his warmth, the way her skin melded with his.

“Need to know what?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her.

Before she responded, Anna allowed herself a moment to envision their life together. She imagined herself as an elementary school teacher, while Conrad gave up real estate to pursue art and philanthropy. They would attend gallery events and support important community causes. At last she would be at the Barefoot Beach Ball without shoes, Maeve being inexplicably accepting of their love. They would have children, a big family, and live at this incredible estate.

“Conrad, I need to know that you mean it—that you’ll call off the wedding.” God, Anna chided herself. Talk about a mood breaker.

Conrad cleared his throat as if he were about to make a speech—or maybe crush her soul. “I will, but it’s … delicate.”

She cupped her hand over his chest. “Delicate is a flower or a porcelain vase. But I’m a woman, and so is Elizabeth. We deserve to be treated with respect. I know it will be difficult, but you need to confront this … unless what you told me isn’t true.” Anna’s chest tightened.

Conrad took her hand, kissing her knuckles. “I promise I’m going to call off the wedding.”

She searched his eyes, looking for any hint of deception. Instead, she saw the depth of his love. She could get lost in that gaze, but he had more to say.

“I don’t want to marry Elizabeth. But my family won’t accept this easily. They’ll say I simply have a case of the nerves. I promise I’ll take care of it. It just won’t happen overnight.”

Anna sighed. How could this ever work? His family’s refusal to accept his decision meant they wouldn’t accept her, either.

She needed to walk away from this, not just for herself, but for Conrad. It was the right thing to do. But he leaned in, lips caressing hers, and she allowed his touch to soothe her. She responded, kissing him fervently. This time, her lips traveled down his neck, his chest. Her fingertips traced his inner thigh. She felt his muscles stiffen and his breath catch. He was brimming with need as she used her lips, her tongue, to bring him pleasure.

Afterward, she lay in his arms, and he pressed his lips against the top of her head, inhaling the honey-tinged scent of her shampoo. “This is what I want, more than anything,” he whispered.

Anna basked in the relief that washed over her. They didn’t need a castle. All they needed was each other.

But her mind wasn’t completely at ease. “I’m worried someone is going to get hurt.”

Conrad lifted her chin, looking her in the eyes. “You’re right,” he said. “I’ll be hurt—if you leave me. I love you, Anna. From the moment I saw you at the fountain, I knew you were my destiny.”

What a line. What a completely, unabashedly shameless line.

And she believed it with all her heart.



* * *



Anna wiped her brow, noticing dirt on the back of her hand. What a harsh reality shift. An hour ago, Conrad had held her naked in his arms, the bedsheet twisted between her legs and her body bathed in sweat and sea air. Now she was hauling old furniture up from a dusty storage area in the basement with a new hire named Krystal, who had recently joined Team Carmichael—poor thing. They lugged the furniture into the library like pro movers. Anna’s back ached.