Page 59 of Sunburned

Which it was, of course. Though just the thought of his lips on mine sent an echo of pleasure shimmering through my torso.

I beelined for a chair on the far side of the couch, as far away from him as I could get and remain in the shade. “Has Tyson made an appearance?” I asked, hiding my apprehension beneath a placid veneer as I pulled my feet up under me.

“He’s not home yet,” Samira answered without moving.

Not home. That meant he hadn’t seen the arrest report. There was still time to retrieve it if I wanted to. But I didn’t. Though the decision to leave it there had been fueled by champagne and rage, I felt confident it was the right decision.

“Do you know where he is?” Cody asked.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Samira muttered, pulling a hat over her face.

“Tyson is already on the yacht,” Laurent said, coming to stand behind the couch.

We all looked over at him in surprise.

“He decided to sleep there last night,” Laurent continued, his face neutral. “He’s requested for you all to arrive at noon.”

Allison emerged from the pool, wrapping her powerful body in a towel. “What is this?” she asked.

“Tyson wants us to go to the boat,” Cody said.

“He said to let the two of you know he has a gift for you,” Laurent said to Allison and Cody.

“Fun,” Cody grumbled.

“The car will be ready at eleven-thirty to take you down to the airfield, where the helicopter is waiting,” Laurent said.

Gisèle and Samira bent their heads together, whispering, as I checked my watch. It was nearly eleven. I turned to catch Cody’s eye and he nodded, confirming our plans for a tête-à-tête with his tyrant of a brother. His mood seemed even darker today than it was in the cab last night, and I wondered if it was my fault for telling him about the blackmailer. But he deserved to know.

Jennifer looked at Cody as she rose from her lounger, tucking her book under her arm. “If you’re in, I’m in.”

Samira stretched, muttering something to Gisèle too low for me to make out. “We will come,” she said. “Franco will be leading the dive?”

“Unfortunately, he has a cold,” Laurent said. “Today we have Rémy. He comes highly recommended.”

“So, you don’t know him,” Jennifer translated.

“I have not met him personally, but Franco dives with him often and recommended him. Also, I am a rescue diver and will be there to make sure you are all safe.”

“Fine, then,” Allison said, striding for the stairs up to her room.

“We need dresses for tonight?” Samira asked.

“Yes,” Laurent said. “Plan to spend the night on the boat.”

—

The helicopter was an unnecessary extravagance. The seven of us could easily have driven to the cove off which the yacht was anchored and taken the dinghy out, but I wasn’t complaining. I’d never been in a luxury helicopter before—actually, I’d never been in a helicopter before, period. This one was white with a roomy tan leather interior featuring wood paneling and seating for eight, though Laurent sat up front with the pilot, who seemed to be a friend of his.

As we rose into the air, I looked out the window to see the mottled sea beneath us, an electric shade of teal. The island appeared to be alive from this angle, a dragon-like sea creature slithering toward the horizon, the jagged peaks of the mountains the spines of its back, the sandy beaches its soft belly, the rocky cliffs its claws. I snapped a pic and sent it to Rosa, who immediately replied with a picture of Benji’s baseball game. Her message:

Same same.

I laughed as I replied:

Billionaire life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Please kiss the boys for me (if they’ll let you!) xx

Beachgoers frolicked on the shore below us as we soared along the coastline, and countless white boats dotted the water. Within five minutes, a large white yacht came into view, anchored perhaps a mile offshore, near a small, rocky island. A handful of other boats bobbed on the waves nearby, but none of them were near the size of the only one with a helipad on the back.

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