“Okay,” I reply, although I’m not exactly sure I understand. At the moment, I’m not sure I understand anything; my thoughts and emotions are just a great big jumbled mess. There are so many interconnecting wires, my insides feel like one big knot.
Jett motions for me to sit, unties the ropes, and then starts the engine. The little boat purrs to life, and a few seconds later, we take off. I concentrate on the scenery to distract me from my nerves—the crystal-blue lagoon, the lush greenery of Mount Otemanu, and the rainbow beaming through the clouds over the volcano. I’ll never deny Hawaii is magnificent, but Bora Bora’s beauty is indescribable. The landscape almost gleams like a fairy tale.
The boat ride is short and silent which, in all honesty, I’m grateful for. I’m not sure how engaging my small talk would be. All my thoughts are gravitating tohim.My heart is beating and my palms are sweating. I keep asking myself if this is the right thing. Do I still have time to change my mind? What would happen if I did? I know the answer to that question. The nagging regret would eventually eat me alive. I have to see him. I have to know.Was it real?And if it was, do we just start over? I can get past the whips and chains and fuckings, but the lying? The deceiving? Even if it was for the right reason, I still question his sincerity. Not to mention my sanity.
Jett cuts the engine, and I snap out of my wandering thoughts. We’ve arrived at a resort. A very posh, exclusive resort from the looks of it.
“Showtime,” Jett says as he lifts me out of the boat and onto dry land. There’s a tall man standing in front of the lobby doors watching us intently. It sort of makes me uncomfortable. I move a little closer to Jett once he’s grabbed my luggage and secured the boat. The man then approaches us with a kind smile.
“Monsieur.” He addresses Jett with a pleasant French accent.
“Matias.” He and Jett shake hands then Matias immediately turns his attention to me. “Mademoiselle.” He kisses my hand. I think I actually blush.
“Ellie, Matias,” Jett formally introduces us. “He’ll escort you from here.”
“Oui.” Matias grabs my suitcase dutifully. “Monsieur Andrews is quite anxious for your arrival.”
“Andrews?” I repeat as Matias places my bag in the backseat of a golf cart parked off to the side.
“Alias,” Jett leans in discreetly and whispers in my ear. “Just go with it.”
I nod silently, fortifying my nerves. He needs an alias?
“Kayne will explain. Now go.”
I frown. “Why aren’t you taking me?”
Jett flashes me a smile. “This is my stop, sweet thing.”
I eye Matias standing next to the golf cart waiting expectantly.
“You’re in good hands. And you’ll be in even better ones once you see Kayne. Now go.” He slaps me on the ass.
“Jett!” I scold him. He just winks at me. “If you need me, I’m in bungalow forty-six. Scoot.”
“Fine,” I huff, rubbing my backside. I’m going! Holy shit! I walk to Matias, and he helps me into the cart. He hops in next to me and turns on the engine. A moment later, a soft breeze is flipping my light-brown hair as we drive down a little pathway, away from the lobby and toward the beach.
“Your first time in Tahiti?” Matias asks casually with one hand draped over the steering wheel.
“Yes,” I answer as we pull onto a boarded pathway stretching out over the aquamarine water. Oversized tiki huts are situated on both sides of us, each with straw-covered roofs and unobstructed views.
“And what do you think so far?”
“Well, considering I’ve only seen the airport and lagoon, I’d say it’s amazing.”
Matias laughs lightly. I’m glad someone is relaxed. Every overwater bungalow we pass jacks my unease up another level. I’m going to be a string ready to snap by the time we reach our destination.
We travel as far as we can on the boardwalk path until we reach the very end. Three very large two-story bungalows hug the round boardwalk.
Matias parks in front of the one in the middle.
“Arrived.” He smiles brightly and my heart actually stops beating. I’m nervous, excited, anxious, and terrified. I feel like I’m strapped into a rollercoaster fearfully awaiting the ride.
And that’s exactly what Kayne is, the Kingda Ka—a man who can launch your body and mind one hundred, twenty-eight miles per hour in three point five seconds.
Once Matias helps me out of the cart, I nervously smooth my dress and fidget with my hair. He rolls my suitcase behind him, and opens the front door; that’s when I freefall from four hundred, fifty feet in the air. Matias stands at the entrance of the villa naive to my hesitation. He has no idea; no idea what I’ve been through, or what the person inside subjected me to.
“Miss?” He raises his eyebrows concerned.
