Page 16 of Owen

The effect of his words ripples from the skin behind my ear, down my spine.

“Are you cold?” he asks, sounding concerned.

I shake my head, mesmerized by his incredible eyes, lined by golden lashes. Barely managing a whisper, I say, “I’m okay.” Only, I’m not. My brain has gone into some sort of nuclear-powered meltdown.

We both jolt when the sound of a horn blasts from behind us.

“Time to go.” Owen unravels my hair from around his finger, accidentally brushing my flushed cheek. “Hold on to your dress, Ms. Sommers.”

I frown. I love my first name, only in work they never call me anything other than my surname, boss or ma’am.

“Jade,” he corrects himself as if reading my mind.

“Right,” is all I can manage.

Before I do something I regret, I sidestep, weaving my body around his, and walk to the impatient cab driver.

I almost skip. My heart has a sudden cheerfulness about it as it basks with new information he just shared:I’m the most perfect woman he’s ever seen.

4

JADE

In the blink of an eye, we’re back within the confines of the compound walls, waving curt, slightly awkward goodbyes, and walking separately toward our villas when Owen shouts, “Fancy a nightcap?”

I turn to look at his bronzed-by-the-sun face, examining his muscular frame wrapped in his crisp white shirt that struggles to contain his broad shoulders.

He’s freakishly handsome, making my pulse quicken, and I secretly want to fling my legs around his waist and climb his laddered abs that I noticed earlier today.

Bugger. Those thoughts willnotdo.

“It’s getting late. I have an early start.” My sensible mouth justifies my reasons.

He jerks his head in acknowledgment, pushing one hand into the pocket of his navy dress shorts and the other through his wavy, dirty-blond hair, then disappears in the pool’s direction.

Follow him, Jade.

I tilt my head back and look up into the scattered star-filled night sky. “Aw, screw it.”

I take a step gingerly in his direction, increasing my speed as I go after him.

As I round the corner, he’s behind the bar to the side of our shared private pool, pouring two drinks.

Placing the wine bottle down, never taking his eyes off me, he watches me pull myself onto one of the high stools. With only the sound of the soft rustle of the trees, he slides my drink across the glass bar top.

I swirl the chilled liquid in my fishbowl-sized glass for a few minutes until I can’t bear the silence any longer. “How did you know I would come back? Are you always this confident?” I ask, then take a sip of the crisp wine.

His lips twist into a warm, knowing grin, as he drops ice into his glass to keep it cool from the still-warm air. I expect him to answer me, or at least say something, anything, except he doesn’t. He simply pops two ice cubes into my glass.

“Why did youhaveto marry?” I blurt out. I have so many questions—for my mother, of course.

Lies, all lies.I’m a nosy bitch who can’t help herself. I need to know everything about him.Now.

The high-pitched buzz of cicadas sings loudly through the heated air as he continues to give me the silent treatment.

I try again. “Did you love her?”

His voice resigned, he replies, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

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