Page 8 of Owen

I rake my fingers through my hair and tuck a strand behind my ear, finally getting used to its new length. The newfound rebel in me may even let it get longer and grow a longer beard, too.

If it’s time for a new life and career, then it’s time for a new me.

Doing what? Who the hell knows.

Lincoln jumps into the conversation. “Promise us you won’t make plans yet. Or make any rash decisions. Wait and see how you feel over the next few weeks andthendecide, yeah?” The hopeful faces of my four friends look back at me down the camera.

“I promise. If you promise to continue keeping my whereabouts a secret. I’m not ready to face the firing squad.” The heavy sensation reappears in my chest. It’s as if someone is trying to drag me into the depths of the earth. I don’t like it.

Running hasn’t helped. Working out hasn’t helped. Swimming hundreds of lengths hasn’t helped. Nothing does.

“We swear we won’t,” Lincoln replies firmly.

Gregor was unaware of my situation when I arrived in Cyprus, so I brought him up to date immediately. He was mad at my father for trying to shackle me to a loveless marriage.

I also saw the gratitude in his eyes. He’s grateful that our parents don’t speak to each other anymore. Relieved that our family businesses don’t overlap, or the same fate may have been sealed for him, too.

Following a takeover bid between his father and mine, who are brothers, over a decade ago, where they went after the same company, my father severed all ties with Gregor’s side of the family when his brother secured the deal. However, against my father’s instruction, I secretly chose to keep in touch with them all.

I was gutted that my parents didn’t let me invite any of them to the wedding because Gregor is about the closest thing to someone I can call family, and I’m a little envious that, unlike me, he drew the good parent straw.

A louddingfrom the front door alerts me to visitors.

I swivel around on the sun lounger then push to my feet. “I need to get that.” The rest of Gregor’s team is arriving today and moving into the surrounding villas within the private compound. “Gregor is out for a run.” Protecting the soles of my feet from the scorching poolside, I slip them into my navy slides.

“Cool. Keep in touch though, yeah?” Skye calls out as I walk quickly around the pool, into the enormous, air-conditioned white living space, to answer the door.

Almost running now, my slides slap against the marble floor of the hallway, echoing off the sparse Mediterranean-style villa,as I exaggerate a loud sigh. “Yes, Mrs. Baxter, I’ll stay in touch.” A year in, I’m only just getting used to calling Skye by her married name. “Look after my girl, Mr. Baxter.” I throw Jacob a cheeky wink.

“Stop saying that. I keep telling you, she’s not your girl anymore,” Jacob retorts, scowling, making everyone around him laugh. I sure do like fucking with him.

“Love you guys.” I blow a playful kiss. “Especially you, Skye.”

“Motherfuck—” Laughing out loud, I cut the call, then place my phone on the console table.

Still chuckling to myself, I turn the catch on the lock and twist the brass handle, pulling open the heavy walnut door. My laughter instantly dies in my throat, as the glowing sun shines behind a beautiful lion’s mane of fiery red hair that’s blowing in the gentle breeze.

I push my sunglasses on top of my head as the silhouette takes one step, and then another toward me. The red halo fades as the most beautiful woman, with the bluest eyes, comes into clear view. I’m hit hard with an invisible force field; like all the air is punched out of my lungs with a high G-force, making me feel lightheaded.

Thinking I must be hallucinating, as this Pre-Raphaelite deity stands before me, I blink twice before I realize she’s talking to me.

“Hello.” She waves a hand in front of my face. “Are you okay?”

I shake my head as the words “So beautiful” run out of my mouth, the skin of my arms now goosebumped, and for a beat, everything else loses its importance.

“I beg your pardon?” her eloquent English accent questionsas she swings a wiggling baby girl around the front of her, then replaces her on top of her other hip.

Pulling my head back, shaking it to wake me up from my daydream, I try to disguise my thinking out loud moment. “Eh, the baby is beautiful.” Although she is super cute, it’s not what I meant at all.

The beautiful woman smiles, lovingly looking down at the baby. “Yes, she is, but she’s also a monster.” She pinches the baby’s cheek playfully, making her babble unformed words, then she turns her attention back to me. “The guy at the security gate said Gregor has our keys. Is he here?” She looks over my shoulder, searching for him.

She waits patiently as my brain fails to connect with my mouth.

“Are you okay?” A deep V of worry forms between her clear blue gems.

As if jolted back to life, I take a large audible gulp and finally say, “He’s out for a run. I have everyone’s keys.” I turn to pick up several bunches from the table, inwardly cringing that I must look like a buffoon.

“The red set is for villa one. It’s the biggest villa, with three bedrooms, and is allocated to his squadron leader.” I separate that set.

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