“Suzette,” he breathed, relief crashing through him. “You’re okay.” Before he could think better of it, he pulled her into his arms and held her tight, burying his face in her neck.
She laughed lightly, slipping her arms around his waist. “Why wouldn’t I be?” she teased, tilting her face toward him.
And before reason could intervene, he kissed her.
Because she was there. Safe. Warm, real, and heartbreakingly close. Because her mouth was right there, parted on a breath that brushed his cheek and undid him completely.
Her breath hitched and his hand came up to cradle the back of her head, his thumb sweeping along her jaw as he deepened the kiss, slow and reverent, as though afraid she might vanish if he moved too fast.
Everything in him stilled. The noise, the firelight, the music — all of it faded into the background. What remained was her heartbeat against his chest, her fingers curling into his shirt, the feeling of coming home after years of being untethered.
He hadn’t known peace could feel like this.
Hadn’t known rightness could taste like her lips.
Until Suzette walked into his life.
And there was no way on God’s green earth he was letting her go.
Ever.
The quiet scrape of a throat cut through the haze, dragging him back to the present.
Justin lifted his head, breath still unsteady, his forehead resting against hers for one lingering heartbeat before he looked up.
It was the night manager.
Justin swallowed a groan, tamping down the urge to punch the man, preferably somewhere that would make him think twice before clearing his throat again.
The man held up his hands, a flash of white teeth slashing across his dark skin. “Apologies, sir.” Then his gaze shifted to his boss. “MiesSuzette, it’s all set.”
“Thank you, Johannes.”
Justin was quietly satisfied to note the slight breathlessness in her voice.
Johannes flashed another cheeky grin in Justin’s direction before wisely making himself scarce.
Suzette chuckled, her fingers sliding easily into his. “Come with me,” she said, giving his hand a playful tug as she led him toward the path that wound back to the hotel.
He followed without question, her hand warm in his. And in that moment, Justin knew he’d walk after her anywhere — even into the bowels of hell itself — with a smile on his face and a spring in his step.
15
It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and she could only hope it wouldn’t come back to haunt her as the biggest mistake of her life. But watching Justin linger in the shadows loosened the tight hold on her resolve.
He was staying hidden for her. Forthem.
For more than two decades, she’d made every choice around keeping her life calm, contained, predictable. And she did love it — the serenity of this West Coast fishing village, the rhythm of tides and seasons, the familiarity of white-washed cottages and sun-bleached decks. But therewaslife beyond the sand and boulders … and maybe, just maybe, that life included whatever Justin McKenzie brought with him.
They climbed the stairs to the dining veranda. Her heels clicked softly against the planks as she led him toward the far corner. Tonight, fairy lights and silken drapes wove a soft glow around a lattice screen, offering them privacy from wandering guests and curious eyes.
The table waited, elegant in its simplicity: white linen overlaid with pale blue, a bottle of sparkling wine chilling in a silverbucket, crystal flutes glinting in the candlelight. Two chairs sat at an easy angle, domed plates poised on silver chargers.
“Johannes deserves a night off,” she murmured, quietly pleased with the results of her earlier request. Then she turned to him with a small, almost shy smile. “I couldn’t let you stay in the shadows. It’s Christmas Eve, after all. A season of celebration.”
He trailed the backs of his fingers down her cheek before catching a loose tendril and giving it a gentle tug. “What are we celebrating, Suzette?”
This is it, Suzette. Your personal Rubicon.
