Kat flashed him that gorgeous grin before setting her eyes on the note. She mumbled incoherently until blurting, “Please enjoy an extra night there?” She tossed the card and bolted toward Zander with a squeal.
He barely had time to brace himself as she jumped into his arms. Zander chuckled under his breath.
“This is the best news ever.” She pressed kisses to his face, one after the other before pulling back to meet his gaze. “Right?”
The warmth of her breath on his skin fogged his brain. “Definitely,” he agreed. “Now we’ve got the whole day to do what we want, no production crew tagging along.”
Kat hurried back over to her makeup mirror. “I’m up for anything,” she declared. “But what I think sounds like the most fun is exploring this little island together. Circling the entire thing, venturing into the jungle-like part of it, maybe take a picnic along…”
Zander liked that idea as well. Enjoying another relaxed day with Kat by his side sounded like a dream.
His mind wandered back to the conversation they needed to have. While he wanted to tell Kat who he was before they left the Maldives, he wasn’t sure if he’d do it before they went back to their bungalow. If he picked the wrong time to break the news, Kat could cut their time at the Maldives short. Worse yet, she could—in a fit of anger—call for a water taxi and take off.
It might sound selfish or cruel, and maybe it was, but Zander couldn’t help but think his best chances of talking things out might be when the two were mid-flight. At least that way, she couldn’t run off before he had the chance to explain.
A deep sigh made its way through his lungs as he headed back toward the kitchen, further puzzling over the dilemma. If he thought things could go that badly, he should probably act sooner rather than later, before the betrayal went on any longer.
His gaze shot out the window where it settled on a massive sunbeam streaming from a thin puff of clouds. Lord, I know I messed up by not telling her sooner. Heck, maybe I messed up by doing this altogether, but I love her.
A hot ache tore through him at the truth of it. Please, help me make it right.
* * *
Kat watched in admiration as Zander gripped onto the hand-made swing—a bamboo stick tied to a dangling rope. The action caused every muscle along his back, shoulders and arms to pop with impressive definition.
He swung over the water, back past the land, and then over the water once more before releasing the bar. With skilled precision, he wrapped his arms around his knees, tucking them to his chest, and hit the water with a perfectly balanced splash.
Kat clapped her hands as he swam back to the shore. The turquoise water was a sight of its own, especially when the afternoon sun glistened off the rippling surface, but there was still no comparison when it came to the body of perfection that was her husband. Duke Benton. She was actually married to one of the Benton brothers. The wild twin who, it seemed, refused to settle down.
The reminder fanned at a thread of thoughts in the back of her mind. Thoughts that—somehow—lingered just beyond her mental grasp. And it seemed that every time she sensed it, tried to reach for it, the idea darted away like a frightened guppy.
She wasn’t sure what it was, only knew that it had something to do with her handsome groom. The one she’d cuddled with all night long, and played with—like a young child, she might add—most of the day as well.
The program had not failed her. From what she could tell thus far, they’d found her a man who complimented her in several ways. He liked to fix breakfast, she liked to sleep in. He liked just one pillow, which allowed her to take up all the rest. And despite the hurt she’d experienced in the past, he made her feel at ease. She trusted him, a fact that allowed her to fall in love in a matter of days.
“So what’s my score?” he asked, snatching a towel draped over a branch.
“Nine and a half,” she said with a grin.
He rubbed the towel over his face before furrowing his brow at her. “Not a ten?”
“You forgot to do the Tarzan call this time,” she said.
He chuckled. “You like that, do you?”
Heat pooled into her center as she took in the look in his deep blue eyes. “Yes.”
He rubbed the towel over his head before running his fingers through the wet, dark strands.
“Charlotte—I told you about how she’s a huge fan—she says she can’t believe you actually cut your man bun for the wedding. Are you glad you did?”
Duke joined her on the sun bed, tucked the towel under his head, and laid back. “The more important question,” he said, “is if you’re glad I did.” He nudged her bare arm with his and shot her a grin. “Which do you like better?”
Kat took the opportunity to shift onto her side so she faced him. She reached up, slid her hand through the length of his hair, enjoying the cold water against the insides of her fingers. And when he closed his eyes, made a slight purring sound, she repeated the action.
“I’ve always been a fan of this hairstyle on men,” she said. “Not too long, not too short.” She traced a fingertip down to his jaw. “And the way you keep your facial hair trimmed, but not gone altogether—I like that too. Scruff is…” She bit back the word and shook her head.
But Duke wasn’t about to let her off that easy. He turned to her, leveled a long hard look at her, and grinned. “Scruff is what?”
