Page 89 of Scandalous Lover

Sam looks distracted, like he’s not hearing my words. I brace myself for whatever he’s about to say next.

“I have to get back upstairs, I just wanted to find you.”

“Sam,” I say quickly, wanting to let him off the hook. “I’m totally fine. You can go do your work, I’ll just be?—”

“Don’t go to Honduras.” His words come out all in a rush, too loud, like they burst through a blockage in his throat.

I try to think quickly if I have any idea what this is about, but I’m coming up blank. “I…”

Movement over his shoulder catches my gaze, and I glance to the left. Sam turns his head quickly to follow my gaze.

Right to Fran, who’s standing behind him.

His head whips back to face me, and I can see the panicked question in his eyes.

Did she hear?

I offer a shrug because I really don’t know what’s going on here.

“Am I interrupting something?” Fran asks, her tone lightly teasing, like she knows exactly what she just stumbled upon.

Unlike me.

“No,” Sam says, taking a step back and turning so Fran is now included in our little circle. “I was just?—”

“Telling Naomi not to join us in Honduras?”

He glances down at his shoes, clearly caught.

“Sam?” I ask, starting to get concerned.

“I need to get back upstairs,” he says, tossing me a tight-lipped smile and escaping through the wide double doors.

Fran turns to me, grinning. “I love this.”

I shake my head, still watching the doors swing. “I don’t know what that was about.”

“I do.”

I turn my head to her, eyebrows raised.

“We’re all going on a trip off the island when this wedding wraps up. Ave invited Sam earlier, but he isn’t coming. He never comes. And it sounds like he was trying to get you to stay here on Faraday with him instead of joining us.” She offers a satisfied smile. “I can’t say it’s a bad plan, actually. You two would have the whole island to yourselves for once.”

“Oh,” I say, totally taken aback by the situation. I have a lot to process, but for now, I need to say something intelligent. “Yeah, that does sound good. I’ll stay here.”

“God, as much as I want to pull you into that walk-in and interrogate you, I don’t have a single second to spare right now.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Fran spins, glancing around, distracted by what she’s going to do next. “You just keep doing what you do best.” She looksback my way and meets my eyes with a smile. “I’ll see you on the other side, okay?”

I nod, and she’s gone.

The ceremony proceeds like a scripted, made for film video shoot. I snap away, getting all the angles, running video on my phone when there’s movement or high emotions. After the couple heads back down the aisle to start the all-night reception party, I take a moment to relax against the shade of a palm, flipping back through pictures to see what I captured.

I don’t get to rest long, however, because I spot the green polo shirts I marked earlier as the people from the tiger conservatory. And that can only mean one thing.

I reach the low, ornately molded fence surrounding the baby tiger enclosure just as they’re coaxing the tiny animals from cozy looking crates.

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