I hate goodbyes.
These past ten days have been magical. I have to wonder, if he lived in Ireland, would it work out between us?
I’m a workaholic, and I get the sense that he is too, but in a parallel universe, would we make it?
I stare at myself in the full-length mirror, taking in my new tan, and the light freckles dusting over my cheeks. My skin glows with the flush of copious amounts of soul-shattering orgasms. I look… refreshed.
I reach for my lipstick, apply it carefully, then dab it with a tissue. That should save some of it rubbing off on California later. He’s gone to his suite to get ready for dinner. We’re dining at a private table on the beach this evening.
Tate is sweeping the area right now, but he’s been morerelaxed with California with every day that passed. After the sunburn on the boat trip last week, he was probably secretly grateful not to have to entertain me—and to have another set of eyes on me. There’s still a madman on the loose. Jack O’Connor is still at large. How is unfathomable, but there hasn’t been a single sighting of him since he disappeared into the forestry beside the prison. It’s like he literally disappeared into thin air.
We can’t hide out forever. My parents and sisters-in-law are bored senseless in Wicklow. They’re returning home tomorrow. Security has been doubled. All we can do is wait for him to rear his ugly head.
My phone buzzes on the marble counter beside the sink. For a split second, the devil in me hopes it’s James, suggesting I stay on. But even if I did, California is leaving tomorrow.
Where’s he going?
Where does he live?
What does he do?
Several times, I nearly blurted out those questions aloud, but the answers—whatever they are—are irrelevant.
We live on different continents. It doesn’t matter what his real name is, where he lives, or what he does. His world is light-years away from mine.
I snatch my phone up as it buzzes. Livvie. She’s been calling almost daily for updates on my holiday fling. She did say she wanted to live vicariously through me. I swipe to answer, and her stunning face fills my screen.
‘Is California and his giant cock there?’ She squeals effusively. ‘Can I see him?’
‘If he was, do you think I’d have answered your call?’ I roll my eyes at my friend as a smile splits my lips. ‘He’s gone to get ready. We have a table booked on the beach tonight.’
‘How romantic!’ Livvie swoons, clasping her hands together.
‘It’s not romance. It’s sex.’ I lie. Whatever this thing was between us, it’s turned out to be way more than sex. It allowed me to be myself, without the weight of being Zara Beckett, the woman who has to perpetually prove how capable and strong she is. It’s been… transcendent.
‘So are you finally going to get his name? Exchange numbers?’ Livvie’s eyes peer so close to the screen I can see her tiny blood vessels.
‘Nope.’ I pop the p slowly.
‘Why the fuck not? If the man is as good in bed as you say he is, I’d be arranging a repeat.’
‘We live worlds away from each. And even if we didn’t, I don’t have time for a man in my life. Not if I’m going to make Beckett Deluxe Design the most successful subsidiary of Beckett Enterprises.’
‘You could have phone sex!’ she suggests.
‘I hardly have time to have sex with someone who lives in the same city as me, let alone operates on a different time zone,’ I remind her. ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know what it’s like. How’s your case coming along?’
‘Fuck the case!’ she shrieks. ‘I called you for sordid details of your sex life, not to discuss work!’
Laughter gurgles in my throat. ‘I would say I missed you, but by calling me every day, you never gave me a chance to.’
A knock sounds on the suite door. ‘I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow.’
‘Meet me for a margarita,’ she begs.
‘I can’t. I’ll be wrecked. We’ll catch up over the weekend, I promise. Love you, bye.’ I hang up before she can change my mind.
My pastel pink halter neck dress billows behind me as I stride across the suite, sandals thwacking off the marble. I fluff my hair and open the door. California is leaning casually on the outer frame, his arms folded over his broad chest. Butthere’s nothing casual about the way my pulse raises in his proximity. He’s wearing a light blue shirt the same shade as his piercing eyes, and a smile that could dissolve my lingerie.
