Page 86 of Redeem Me

‘And did you ring specifically to tell me that? Or do you want something?’

Rui returns with two cones topped with whipped ice cream and sprinkles. He hands one to Orla and one to Owen.

‘I want something, but that will have to wait until later.’ I hear his smile, even though I can’t see it. ‘The boat won’t be ready until three. Meet me in the restaurant for lunch at one.’

‘Yes, boss.’ I raise my hand in a salute and he snorts.

‘I think we both know you’re the one in charge.’ He hangs up before I can respond.

The ice creams melt quicker than the kids can eat them and they’re soon wearing more than they’ve swallowed. I take them up to the penthouse, shower them and dress them for lunch in their father’s fancy hotel restaurant. Room service has changed all the sheets, but Owen’s weren’t the ones that were in need of replacing this morning. Whoops.

I pick out a blush pink playsuit from my wardrobe and team it with a pair of gold low-heeled wedges. In this heat, there’s zero point in even trying to do anything with my hair or make-up, so I settle for a few squirts of Jo Malone perfume and a lick of mascara, and hope for the best.

When we reach the restaurant, Caelon is already waiting for us at a table by a window overlooking the cliffs. In a suit and tie, and wearing his serious game face, he looks positively powerful. His sheer presence sucks the oxygen from the room. Despite the air con, I am on fire.

His face breaks into a crooked smile as he spots us and his espresso-coloured eyes glint with an energetic spark. He stands as we approach. Orla and Owen run to him, hugging his legs and yelling over each other in their excitement to tell him about their morning.

Caelon answers with a convincing enthusiasm but his eyes are trained firmly on me, roving over my outfit before settling on my face. His crooked smile stretches into an almighty grin that makes my heart beat right out of my ribcage. Tortured has always been beautiful in that masculineway, but when he smiles, really smiles, he’s fucking devastating.

But his face morphs into an expression of horror as I reach the table.

‘What are you doing here?’ he demands incredulously.

I’m about to remind him he invited me, when I note his gaze has shifted to over my right shoulder.

‘Grandma!’ Orla and Owen squeal, leaping into the air.

I spin on my heels and find myself face to face with an immaculately dressed woman wearing a necklace dripping in diamonds and a grin as wide as the sea. A man who can only be Caelon’s father, given the striking resemblance, stands at her side.

‘Well, well, well,’ Caelon’s mother says, not even attempting to mask her glee. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’

Caelon drags his jaw from the floor and steps forwards so he’s standing beside me. ‘Ivy, I’d like you to meet my mother, Vivienne, and my father, Alexander.’ His voice is crisp, sharp and sullen again.

‘Ivy,’ Vivienne coos, taking my hands. ‘It’s such a pleasure to meet you.’ There’s an unmistakable warmth in her voice and actual tears welling in the corner of her eyes.

Alexander has the same deep, brown, thoughtful eyes as Caelon, which dart between us with curiosity. It’s clear to see where the Beckett boys got their looks from, even with the deep purple scar that’s carved across Alexander’s cheek. A shiver rips down my spine. The scar reminds me that the Becketts are dangerous. I should know. I’ve spent hours reading about the bitter feud between their family and their rivals, the O’Connors.

Vivienne launches herself at Caelon, wrapping her arms around him. He stands stiffly until I nudge him in the ribs with my elbow and he eventually reciprocates the hug, though not with nearly as much enthusiasm.

‘It’s so great to see you’re dating again,’ she whispers, none too discreetly, as she disentangles her arms from his back.

‘Oh, I’m just the nanny.’ I hold my palms up and take a step back, glancing at the kids pointedly. They have no idea about their daddy and me, and now is not the time to tell them.

Vivienne swats a slim, manicured hand in front of her face before leaning close enough that I can smell her expensive perfume. ‘That grin certainly wasn’t for me,’ she whispers, cocking her head.

She turns to her son again, who is flushed in the face and tight-lipped. ‘Do you mind if we join you for lunch?’

‘Do I have any choice?’ Caelon mutters, but Vivienne’s attention is already refocussed on me.

‘We’ve been touring Europe. We spent last month in the south of France and then we decided to come here. It’s a special place for us as Alex proposed to me in Portugal many moons ago. I have a soft spot for Carveiro. Thought we’d check in for a night or two before moving on to Lisbon. I am so happy we did.’

Judging by the grim expression on Caelon’s face, he’s not quite as ecstatic about this turn of events.

Three waiters appear, pulling out seats and faffing with napkins. Caelon orders wine. I think we’re going to need it.

‘Tell me, Ivy, how long have you been working for Caelon?’ Alexander doesn’t beat around the bush.

‘A couple of months.’ I brush Orla’s hair from her eyes, then turn my attention back to Caelon’s parents.

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