“We did it,” I agreed, not wanting to ruin the moment by acknowledging that the ceremony itself was the least problematic factor in this deception we were undertaking.
“And you got me a ring. I wasn’t expecting that.”
My mouth tugged up at the corners. “It’s tradition.”
Her smile turned cheeky. “While we’re on the subject of tradition, want to see my something blue?” She released my hand, and tugged the strap of her dress aside, revealing the pale blue lace of her bra and the peek of creamy skin beneath.
I almost swallowed my tongue. Her laughter tinkled as she righted her clothing once more. “I think flustered Henry is my favourite,” she confided with a pat on my cheek. I was grateful to Liv for interrupting the moment to hand us both a plastic flute of champagne before she could tease me about my blush again.
Lucian, looking dour, approached, holding a clipboard with the all-important wedding documents for us to sign. I’d already dated them a month earlier, which would put us mere days before her visa had expired.
“So … what do we think about Staghorn Island?” River asked, taking the pen from Lucian and scrawling his signature. “It’s got sentimental value now, wouldn’t you say?”
Lucian snorted. I flashed a warning glare in his direction, taking the pen from River before turning to Irina. “What do you think … sweetheart?” I barely suppressed a wince at how unnatural the pet name felt on my tongue.
“Sorry … what were we talking about? I was too busy being dazzled by my ring!” She wiggled her left hand under my nose. The diamonds and sapphires glinted in the bright sunlight. I’d spent three hours in Tiffany agonising over which band she might like.
“I thought the sapphires matched your eyes,” I explained, my cheeks warming. “If it’s too fussy for you, we can?—”
“Are you actually insane?” she teased, smacking me on the arm. “It’s perfect!”
I fiddled with my own ring—a plain platinum band—spinning it on my finger. The action calmed me, and I took my turn signing the papers before handing the pen to Irina and turning to River.
“Regarding the island. I’m still undecided. I can see the potential, and your vision is commendable, but there are a lot of factors—financial and environmental—to account for. I understand there is a time crunch with the current owner, so …”
River’s face paled. “I can send you all the projections. I’ve personally done an ecological survey of the existing resort site, and I would want to extend that to the entire island, should we—you—decide to go ahead. I’ve factored in environmental mitigation to the demolition, and I … just please don’t write this off until you’ve looked over all my figures.”
I nodded. “I was going to say, if you can get me figures as quickly as possible, I’ll review and make a decision.”
River visibly relaxed. “You’re a good man, Henry Baxter.” He reached out and shook my hand.
“He’s a great man,” Irina added, twining her fingers with mine.
She’s very good at pretending,I thought, even as I tightened my hold on her hand.
“Is that all you brought with you?” I asked, staring dubiously at the small overnight bag Lucian unloaded from the back of the car. I stifled a yawn, but weariness had taken hold. I peered out over the marina, relief flooding me that we’d managed to get to Queensland and back in a day, and I could sleep in my own bed tonight.
“How much did you expect me to bring for one night?” she asked, her own words slurred and sleepy.
“One night? You’re moving in.”
Her eyes snapped wide. “Moving in … as in …”
“As in, moving onto the yacht with me, yes. Married people tend to live together, Irina.”
She rubbed at her forehead. “I hadn’t really … can we talk about this in the morning? I’m absolutely beat.”
Headlights flashed on further up the street, and a car manoeuvred its way down the hill. Irina tensed, but Lucian was already in action, scanning the key card to open the marina gate, hustling Irina and me inside as a man leapt out of the passenger door.
“It’s those vultures from TechRaker again,” he growled. “Keep your heads down and get to the yacht as fast as you can. I’ll run interference.”
I didn’t waste time acknowledging his words; I grabbed Irina by the arm and strode purposefully down the jetty towards theGirl on Fire.
“What’s tech breaker?” Irina asked, her voice tense. Behind us, Lucian’s voice boomed out, “Get the fuck out of here, this is private property!”
“TechRaker. It’s an online technology magazine … that seems to have taken gossip-blog levels of interest in me of late.”
“You’re getting hounded by computer geek paparazzi?”
