A Secret Boat Ride

I dragged myself through the dark garden paths, bile burning the back of my throat. The image of Kaelen’s mouth pressed against Nadia’s lips remained branded behind my eyelids, sharp and revolting. Every muscle in my chest ached with a hollow sting that made no sense.

I had no right to feel betrayed. I was not his wife. I was an imposter, a nameless girl hired for pocket money to play a body double for Vesper Vance while the real heiress ran loose somewhere in the city. If Kaelen wanted to drag another woman into the shadows and kiss her until she could barely stand, that was his business. He could sleep with half the women on this private island for all I cared. We were here to protect an image, nothing more.

Still, the humiliation sat like lead in my gut.

I slipped inside the villa and pushed the heavy wooden door shut, sliding the lock into place. The stillness of the empty suite felt suffocating. The massive king-sized bed stood untouched, pristine white sheets mocking me under the dim hall lamp. My stomach gave a loud, painful growl, reminding me that dinner had ended in a brawl before I could swallow more than two bites.

I crossed the room toward the small kitchen alcove to grab some water. Sitting on the low counter beside the small refrigerator was a large porcelain platter sealed under silver foil. When I peeled back the foil, the rich steam of roasted chicken and seasoned rice hit my face. My hands shook as I pulled a fork from the drawer and began eating straight from the tray. I ate until the ache in my stomach subsided, forcing down the meat without tasting it.

When I finished, I looked back at the empty master bed. Sleeping there felt wrong. It belonged to Kaelen and the woman he was supposed to love, or perhaps the mistress he was currently touching in some secluded suite.

I grabbed a clean pillow and a light wool blanket from the closet and carried them to the narrow couch against the wall. Before I settled down, my hand brushed the wooden knife block on the counter. I pulled free a long, serrated bread knife. The steel felt cold and heavy in my palm. I slipped the blade flat beneath the couch cushion, right under my pillow, within arm's reach. Only then did I pull the blanket to my chin and close my eyes, listening to the ocean breeze rattle the glass until exhaustion dragged me under.

A heavy boot struck the base of the couch with a jarring thud.

I bolted upright, my fingers instantly diving beneath the pillow toward the hilt of the knife.

Kaelen towered over me, his broad frame blocking the morning light streaming through the terrace doors. The breeze stirred the sheer curtains behind him, carrying the scent of salt and expensive cologne. His eyes were bloodshot, dark rings bruising the skin beneath them. He was still wearing the same dark polo shirt from the terrace, the collar rumpled and creased. He had spent the entire night out.

I pulled my hand back from the knife, tucking my fingers into the blanket. "What time is it?"

Kaelen caught my wrist and dragged me upward, forcing me to sit upright on the edge of the cushions. "A proper wife tends to her husband at dawn. She does not rot on a sofa like an idle guest."

I pulled my arm free from his grip. "You were not here to be tended to."

Kaelen ignored the remark, his mouth curving into a thin line of disgust as he looked down at my disheveled sleepwear. "Put on decent clothes. I will be on the terrace waiting for breakfast."

He turned and strode out the door, letting it slam shut behind him.

I sat there for several seconds, my heart pounding against my ribs, before dragging myself to the bathroom. I washed my face with cold water, brushed my hair, and pulled on a simple sundress. When I walked down to the open-air restaurant ten minutes later, the morning sun was already beating down on the marble tiles.

Kaelen sat at the same corner table where Kian Hayes had joined me the evening before. A folded morning paper was raised in front of his face, shielding him from view.

I pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.

He did not lower the paper right away. "Why were you following me last night?"

My pulse skipped. "I was not stalking you. I was worried you were going to murder Kian Hayes in cold blood, so I went to check. But clearly, you found better ways to spend your evening. I was glad to see you enjoying Miss Cruz's company."

The paper snapped down onto the table. Kaelen leaned forward, his knuckles whitening against the edge of the wood, his jaw tight as stone. "Do you think Hayes is strong enough to shield you from me?"

"He has nothing to do with this," I replied, keeping my voice flat. "He was polite to me when I was sitting here alone. That is more than I can say for my husband."

Kaelen's dark eyes narrowed to cold slits. "You will never speak to that man again. If he comes near you, you walk away. Am I making myself clear?"

Before I could answer, a shadow fell across the flagstones near the entrance. Three men walked into the dining area. Walking in the lead was Kian Hayes, wearing a casual white linen shirt. A clean white bandage was taped over the left side of his bruised jaw, but his eyes were bright as he scanned the room.

For a fraction of a second, his gaze locked with mine. My breath caught in my throat. I looked down at my lap, silently praying he would keep walking. As if sensing the tension radiating from Kaelen's rigid posture, Kian turned toward the outdoor veranda with his companions, leaving the dining room behind.

Kaelen did not touch his breakfast. He drank half a cup of black coffee, pushed his chair back, and stood up. "Find something productive to do with your time today. Stay out of trouble while I am handling business."

He walked away without waiting for a reply, disappearing down the stone staircase toward the marina.

Left alone, the quiet of the villa felt unbearable. I had no phone, no money, and no real identity on this island. After sitting at the table until the waiters began clearing the surrounding settings, I stood up and wandered toward the public shoreline.

The beach was mostly empty this early. The rhythmic wash of small waves over the sand offered a faint measure of peace. I took off my sandals, letting the cool water brush against my ankles, and bent down to collect smooth white seashells scattered along the tide line. It was something tangible to hold onto, a small distraction to keep my thoughts from spiraling back to Kaelen and the mess I had agreed to enter.

"Have you ever sailed on open water, Vesper?"

A voice spoke directly behind me.

I spun around, my footing slipping slightly on the wet sand.

Kian Hayes stood a few paces away, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his white trousers. His shirt was open at the collar, revealing a sliver of sun-bronzed skin. The bandage on his jaw looked fresh, but the corners of his mouth were lifted into an easy, relaxed smile.

I backed up half a step, clutching the shells in my hand. "How do you know that name?"

Kian laughed softly, gesturing toward the main lodge. "The resort staff talk. Your husband made quite a scene last night, throwing his weight around. News travels fast on a rock this small."

"I am sorry for what he did to you," I said, looking down at his jaw. "He has an awful temper."

"I am willing to forget the whole thing," Kian said smoothly. "Under one condition."

I frowned, keeping my guard up. "What condition?"

"Come with me on a short boat trip around the bay," he said, gesturing toward the private docks. "Spend an hour on the water with me, and I will drop my grievance against your husband completely. No bad blood."

I hesitated, looking toward the distant pier where several speedboats were tied. "I cannot afford to rent a private vessel, Mr. Hayes."

"It costs nothing," Kian replied with a wave of his hand. "Catherine is already fueled and waiting. We will be back at the dock within an hour. Catherine will take good care of us."

*Catherine?* The name made me pause. If a woman named Catherine was coming along, it was not a private outing between the two of us. Having another person present meant Kaelen could not claim I was sneaking off alone with him, and it offered a layer of safety.

"One hour," I agreed quietly. "No longer than that."

"Deal," he said, leading the way toward the wooden pier.

We walked past the larger yachts until we reached a narrow wooden slip where a sleek, white speedboat was tied. The deck was spotless, the outboard engine gleaming in the sun. Kian helped me step over the gunwale and cast off the lines with practiced ease. Within minutes, the engine roared to life, and the boat glided away from the resort harbor, cutting through the turquoise swells.

I sat on the cushioned bench near the stern, looking toward the small cabin hatch below the helm. The boat gathered speed, bouncing over the rolling crests of the water.

I leaned forward, trying to speak over the roar of the motor. "Where is your friend?"

Kian kept his hands on the wheel, eyes fixed on the horizon. "What?"

"Catherine," I called out louder, gripping the side rail as the vessel crested another wave. "Where is Catherine?"

Kian chuckled without turning around. "You are sitting on her."

The blood drained from my face. My fingers dug into the vinyl cushion. "Catherine is the boat?"

"A custom build," he answered casually. "She handles rough water better than anything else in the marina."

Panic flared hot in my chest. The shoreline of the main resort was already shrinking into a distant line of green palms and white villas. If Kaelen found out I was on a private craft alone with the very man he had beaten half to death hours ago, he would lose what little control he had left.

"Turn around," I said, standing up and trying to reach the helm. "Take me back right now, Kian."

"Sit down before you fall overboard," he said, easing the throttle slightly as the hull slammed against a swell. "Relax. We will be back in less than an hour. A promise is a promise."

I sank back onto the bench, my knuckles aching from gripping the rail. The sea stretched wide and empty around us, deep cobalt blue turning to pale jade as we approached an isolated outcrop of black volcanic rock rising out of the sea.

Kian cut the engine and guided the boat into a sheltered cove. On one side, jagged black rocks rose straight toward the sky; on the other, a small strip of white sand curved into the clear water.

"Phantom Island," Kian announced, dropping the small anchor into the shallows. "A storm took half of it down years ago, but the beach is still pristine. Come on."

"I am not getting off this boat," I said firmly, crossing my arms over my chest.

Kian hopped down into the waist-deep water, the gentle surf soaking his trousers, and turned to offer me his hand. "Give me your hand, Vesper. We have plenty of time. Your husband will not be looking for you anyway."

I narrowed my eyes. "What does that mean?"

"I saw him leaving the marina this morning," Kian said, his voice completely level as he stood by the boat's side. "He boarded a private cruiser with Nadia Cruz about twenty minutes before I found you on the beach. They headed south toward the outer reefs."

A cold, familiar numbness washed through me. My knees felt weak. As I tried to step back, my foot caught on the edge of a deck hatch. I stumbled forward, slipping over the low transom.

Kian caught me firmly around the waist, lifting me out of the vessel and setting me down gently onto the dry sand above the water line.

"Careful," he murmured, his hands lingering on my waist for a second too long before dropping away. "I wonder why a man with a wife like you would spend his mornings chasing another woman."

I pulled back, dusting the sand from my knees. "Miss Cruz is an important corporate client. They have business to discuss. Now please, you said we would go back."

"Just five minutes," Kian said, pulling a sleek camera from the waterproof pouch at his hip. "Sit by those rocks. The contrast against the dark stone will look incredible."

Wanting only to end this excursion as quickly as possible, I walked toward the base of the dark cliff and sat down on a flat boulder. The ocean wind whipped strands of hair across my face.

"Look toward the water," Kian directed, crouching down to frame the shot. "Lift your chin slightly. Perfect. That looks stunning."

The camera clicked several times. I held the pose stiffly, watching the horizon, desperate to see the resort pier again.

After half a dozen shots, Kian finally lowered the lens. "All right. Let us head back before the tide turns."

We boarded the boat in silence. The return trip felt agonizingly slow, even though the engine ran at full throttle. When the wooden pillars of the resort pier finally came into view, relief surged through me. The boat bumped gently against the rubber bumpers along the dock, and Kian cut the motor.

The moment the lines were secure, I stepped up onto the gunwale, preparing to climb the wooden ladder to the pier. "Thank you for the ride, Kian."

Before my foot could reach the first rung, his hand clamped down on my wrist.

He pulled me backward, spinning me around against the deck rail, and pressed his mouth hard against mine.

Shock locked my limbs for a single second. Then instinct took over. I raised both hands, shoved his chest with everything I had, and stumbled back against the helm.

"Do not touch me!" I snapped, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, my skin crawling with revulsion.

Kian stood his ground, his eyes dark with an anger that was not directed at me. "I despise men who play both sides. I saw him with her last night in the dark, Vesper. He does not deserve your loyalty."

I did not stay to hear another word. I scrambled up the ladder onto the wooden deck of the pier, my sandals slapping against the boards, and broke into a dead sprint.

The midday heat beat down on my head as I tore through the resort gardens, taking the stone paths two steps at a time. My lungs burned. My thoughts raced with pure terror. If Kaelen had returned early—if anyone had seen me get off that boat—everything would collapse.

I reached the villa, shoved the wooden door open, and practically collapsed into the foyer, gasping for breath.

I looked up, and the breath died in my throat.

Kaelen was sitting on the sofa.

He was holding a crystal glass, swirling the dark red wine inside with slow, deliberate circles. His cold, dark eyes fixed onto mine like daggers, pinning me to the floor.

"What kind of wife are you?"