Page 71 of Her Every Fantasy

‘Had?But I thought—’

His harsh laugh stopped her. ‘Yeah, that’s the thing with Savvie. She lures you into believing unrealistic fantasies. Which is decidedly the anti-Mortimer way, as we well know.’

‘I think you’re wrong, Bryce—’

‘Enough, Gracie. It’s over. Let it go.’

‘Okay. Can you drive me to my hotel?’ Graciela asked.

I waited till they were gone, then stumbled away, Bryce’s words lacerating my heart into tiny, useless shreds.

Minutes later, I slipped away from the after-party knowing I had to get away before I disgraced myselfby breaking down.

Within the hour, my bag was packed and I was heading for the airport. The store wasn’t set to officially open to the public for another week. And since the day-to-day running of every Voluttuosostore was entrusted to an expert management team, I could take a week. Or a month.

But even as I hurried to the check-in desk and booked a first-class seat to Bali, I knew I would need much, much longer to even attempt to piece together my shattered heart.

One week.

The resort was perfect, the staff attentive without being intrusive.

The setting was paradise itself.

And yet I couldn’t have been more miserable if I’d tried.

I told myself it was the abrupt standstill after going full throttle for months making time drag. But I was deluding myself. Each heartbeat sounded like a death knell, each forced meal a chore I would gladly have given up if I could.

The last time I’d felt like this was the first day of my honeymoon after I’d married the wrong man. Bora Bora had felt like hell, the look in Bryce’s eyes as I’d walked down the aisle on the arm of another man a constant reminder that I’d taken the wrong turn.

But this time I hadn’t. This time I knew what I wanted.

Bryce. Always.

I’d dared him to stay. And he’d gone.

Hadn’t he warned me right from the start and then over and over again that we were different people?

I should’ve listened.

And what...? Not fallen in love with him? When I’d been in love with him since I was sixteen years old? When that love burned brighter despite the possibility that the only time I would come close to him again was through his business?

Harsh hot tears prickled my eyes, sent me off the lounger I’d plonked myself on in the hope that the sun would burn away some of my unhappiness.

My beachfront chalet was private enough to guarantee I wouldn’t be disturbed and open enough to ensure I could stroll into the sea in two dozen lazy steps. The temptation to do just that, to keep swimming until I lost myself in the ocean, produced even more tears.

God, I was hopeless.

My feet crashed into the waves and with relief I dived into the crystal blue waters. I swam until exhaustion deadened my arms, then reluctantly returned to the chalet.

The first prickles of awareness tingled through me two minutes into my open-air shower on the front porch. I ignored it, wrapped my sarong over my naked body and returned to my lounger, determined to find a few minutes of peace in the pages of my novel.

He was standing in the gap between the hedge that formed the natural barrier between my chalet and the beach. His broad back to me, he stared at the waves crashing onto shore while I stared, slack-jawed, at him.

Every cell in my body had been dying to see Bryce again but now he was here...now he was a solid, breathing form in front of me, my brain scrambled to nothing.

He turned around.

We stared at each other in silence.

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