Page 278 of Tormented Billionaire Romance Series

“Of course,” I tell her.

We get to the boardwalk, and when she catches her first sight of the beach, I let her get a few steps ahead so I can send a quick text to Amin to let him know dinner’s going to be delayed a little while. The phone’s back in my pocket before Grace turns around, saying, “This is incredible. The beach, the ocean—that is the ocean, right?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say, nodding.

“And then I turn back around to tell you how beautifulthatis and I see the rainforest on this side,” she says. “It is something. Thanks for—you know, for bringing me.”

“You’re welcome,” I tell her. “Did you want to walk around a little more or are you starting to get hungry?”

“I don’t think I’m quite ready to, you know,” she says.

“That’s the second time with the ‘you know’ thing,” I say. “Just like last time, all I’m asking for is dinner.”

“No,” she says, “I mean, yeah, I know. I just meant I’m not quite ready to …” she’s trapped mid-incomprehensible gesture, and she lets her hands drop. “You know,” she says.

“Okay,” I answer and smile. I still have no idea what she’s going on about.

So we walk for a while. The village isn’t large. It’s not the kind of place you’d put a hotel unless you wanted to ruin everything.

The sad thing about places like this is that they’re so unique, so special you want to tell everyone about it. When that happens, though, tourists descend, and the place loses its authenticity and ends up just another tourist spot, like any other.

I’ve been here enough the locals recognize me, but they don’t know Grace, so they’re a bit wary. A lot of people have had the idea to turn this place into a tourist spot, and although I’ve been coming here for a few years now, it doesn’t seem like too many of the townspeople are past the fact I’m precisely the kind of guy who lays waste to places like this.

Well, I’m not that type, myself, but I’ve got the kind of bank account that’ll raise this sort of distrust.

The sun’s starting to go down and Grace’s walking a little closer to me now. She says, “Thank you for bringing me here. It really is something.”

“I’m glad you think so,” I respond. “Are you getting hungry, or are you still full from the last meal on the plane?”

“I’m getting tired, though,” she says. “Could we maybe have our big dinner after I’ve had a chance to get a nap? The jetlag is killing me.”

“Sure,” I tell her. “That won’t be a problem.”

It looks like I’ve got a long night of apologizing to Amin ahead of me. I’m going to have to make it good, too. Otherwise, I might have to make other arrangements for when Grace’s up and ready for something to eat.

We’re walking back in the general direction of the car and Grace stops.

“Oh no,” she says.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“It’s my boss,” she says. “When you picked me up, I didn’t think we were going to be leaving the country—”

“Ididtell you to bring your passport,” I interrupt.

She glares at me and my mouth conveniently shuts on its own.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “What were you telling me?”

“Work,” she says. “I have work in the morning.”

“Which morning?” I ask.

“Thursday,” she says.

Teeth together, I take a slow breath through my mouth.

“It’s not the end of the world,” she says. “I’ll call him, and I’m sure it’ll be all right. Actually, itwon’tbe all right, but I don’t think he’ll fire me so long as I can still get the call in before my shift.”

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