“I finished a rough draft of the plans today,” Jax says, changing the subject.
My heart stutters, then relaxes.
Okay. Safe. Work I can do.
“Excellent,” I say, as our waiter appears to take our food order. “We can go through it tomorrow morning. I’ve met with the staff and sent my recommendations back to Head Office. The next three days, I’m all yours.”
It’s only after the words have left my mouth that I realise how suggestive they sound. If Jax picked up on it, he shows no signs of it.
“That’s great. There are a few ideas I’d like to discuss with you. See what you think.”
“How about we meet up after breakfast,” I say, wanting to make it official. “Don suggested we work in the guest library. I had a look around earlier, and it appears to be empty.”
After today, the last place I want to work is in the villa.
According to Baskin, the library is an underutilised space. It’s only used during bad weather, and for clients leaving the island, but as most leave in the morning before checkout, this is rare.
Our food arrives, and we eat in relative silence, both caught up in our own thoughts.
It’s been a long, emotional day. My limbs feel heavy, and my eyes scratchy. I want nothing more than to curl up in bed, read my book and reset.
Once we’ve eaten, we make our way back to the villa.
“Do you want to stop for a nightcap?” Jax asks as we pass the bar.
“I’d love to, but I can barely keep my eyes open. You’re welcome to if you want.”
“I think I might,” he says.
My chest tightens. Part of me wants to be alone, the other wishes for comfort. But Jax is not the man to give it, and I have no right to ask it of him.
“I won’t be late.”
“Don’t rush on my account,” I say, offering him a quick smile before we separate.
I pause, watching him enter the bar.
He’s immediately greeted by a number of guests. He stops, his shoulders relaxing as he talks. He smiles, they smile.
I sigh and turn away, continuing my journey back to the villa.
Jax has always been popular and has a way of putting people at ease. Everyone seems to like him and gravitate towards him. My family included.
Is that why I was so easily convinced he’d been unfaithful?
I’ve always been introverted, guarded. Trust has never come easily to me. My inner circle is incredibly small, consisting mainly of family, the odd friend, like Pen, and the girls I went to uni with, who I catch up with once a year.
I enter the villa and stare at the large bed and down at the tiny cot bed.
I throw caution to the wind, rearranging the pillows the same way Jax did last night, and crawl under the covers. I lean across and flick on Jax’s bedside light before picking up my book. I stare at the words, re-reading the same page five times, before giving up. I replace my bookmark and turn off my light.
I wriggle down the bed, my body sinking into the mattress. I close my heavy eyelids, expecting to dream, but instead there’s nothing, only silence for the first time in a very long time.
I wake up and stretch.Rolling onto my back before turning my head. The other side of the bed is empty, although I can make out the indent where Jax’s head has been.
I sit up and look around. My senses tell me the villa is empty, that Jax is gone. He’s probably swimming.
I pick up my phone. Seven thirty.
