Page 70 of Redeem Me

Eight minutes later, we land on a small circular helipad at a five-star lakeside hotel I’ve recently bought. The previous owners went bust and I snapped it up to add to the Beckett Bliss range. The location is priceless, but the building is majestic, too. I’ve had a construction crew working twenty-four-seven to get it ready for its reopening next month, but for this weekend, it’s just Ivy and me, and a handful of staff.

‘Wow,’ she gasps, as an impeccably dressed porter greets us.

‘Mr Beckett, welcome.’ He nods and offers a welcoming smile.

I glance up at the building. It looks a hell of a lot better than the last time I was here. ‘This is Ivy.’

I don’t introduce her as my girlfriend. One word doesn’t do justice to describe what she is to me. And we’ve already established she’s not a girl; she’s all woman.

My woman.

I thought the attraction between us might fizzle, crash, and burn, but the fire between us rages stronger with every passing day. It’s unsettling, but undeniable. No matter how many times I have her, I crave my next hit like an addict.

So, what does that mean for the future?

Until I met Ivy, my future involved nothing but wreaking revenge on the O’Connors and raising my children.

Ivy is my twinkling glimmer of hope at the end of a longand dark, suffocating tunnel. For the first time in a long time, I’m wondering what my life might look like after I’ve dealt with the O’Connors. I’m finally considering the possibility that I may actually have a life afterwards, even if I don’t deserve one. Which is in equal parts enthralling and terrifying.

I shut my eyes, forcing away thoughts of anything other than the present.

‘This is unbelievable,’ Ivy gushes, rushing up the red-carpeted steps to explore, her eyes wide with wonder. ‘Don’t tell me you own this place as well?’

‘Yep.’ I follow her inside, my soles clicking over the black-and-white marble flooring. A brilliant white grand piano takes pride of place in a huge hallway. Gilded landscapes of the Donegal scenery line the walls. An impressive, glistening crystal chandelier hangs from the centre of the room, sending tiny rainbows in every direction.

Ivy runs a finger over the top of the piano and cocks her head. ‘Where is everybody?’

‘It’s just you and me, Tranquil.’ I wink. ‘I figured we’ve given the staff enough to talk about for a while.’

‘I am “the staff.” Did you forget?’ She winks back and takes a seat at the keyboard, tapping out what I’ve come to recognise as another damn Taylor Swift tune.

‘Not this weekend, you’re not.’ I hover beside her, watching her slim fingers fly over the keys. ‘This weekend, you’re the queen of this castle and you know what queens do, right?’

Her fingers slow to a stop. ‘They wear crowns?’

‘They rule.’ She’s spent weeks taking orders from two four-foot-tall dictators. It’s time she gave a few orders herself. ‘Whatever you want, just say. Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you get it. If you want to stay in the castle for the next two nights and not leave, we can. If you want to skinny-dip inthe lake or climb the mountain, we can. This weekend is all about you.’

Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip and I watch her throat as she swallows her surprise. ‘Why?’

‘Because you give so much of yourself to me and my kids every day, I want to do something for you.’

Her hands fall from the piano to her lap. ‘Every time you touch me, you do something for me. You spend every free minute giving me pleasure. You don’t need to do this as well.’ Her bright eyes glisten. ‘You know, for a man who claims not to do romance, this is pretty romantic.’

‘I want to spend time with you without everyone watching.’

Ivy shrugs. ‘It’s kind of weird at home, isn’t it? Like we’re a cross between Love Island and Big Brother.’

‘Which is why I’ve requested different staff, so you wouldn’t feel like the nanny.’

‘Like I said, it’s romantic.’ Her lips twist like she’s suppressing a smirk. I pause, waiting for whatever line she’s about to deliver. I know her well enough to know one is coming. ‘Let’s hope you can keep all the balls in the air.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t do romance, but I will make you come hard enough to see stars…’She tosses my line back at me.

‘Oh, sweetheart, leave the balls to me.’ I roll up the sleeves of my shirt. ‘Get up on that piano now.’

‘What?’ Her eyebrows rocket upwards.

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