WIND LICKED AND LASHED as the helicopter traded weightlessness for Earth’s gravity, its skids disappearing into thick grass of the overgrown helipad.
I’d made the choice to step out of hiding and greet my escort rather than hide. I chose life over death—or at least I hoped I had.
I braced myself for Calvin to step off the helicopter, or the man who’d checked up on me three times the day before, delaying my departure by precious hours.
But…
Sully.
My stomach fluttered and feathered as he leaped from the chopper and turned back to yell at the pilots over the din. He gesticulated with his arm, shook his head, his anger turning his motions aggressive. The pilot argued back, but Sully was boss, he was god, his word was scripture chiselled into stone and obeyed at all cost.
Finally, the pilot nodded, waited as Sully slammed the door and stepped back, then added more power to the rotors to skim into the sky. My head tipped up as I watched the mechanical bird skip to the left, climb in height, and vanish in a burst of noisy speed.
Only once silence descended did I drop my gaze to Sully’s.
He stood on the opposite side of the clearing. Fists in pants pockets, charcoal suit covering him majestically from head to toe; an aubergine tie loose and hanging around his neck. Sweat gleamed in the hollow of his throat. His dark hair with its unpermitted sun-bleached tips was wild and wind-tangled.
He was undone.
The most ruffled I’d ever seen him.
He was no longer cold-blooded, standing in the tropics without any sign of discomfort. He vibrated with ferocity, boiling with need and fury.
Our gazes locked, and whatever minor dregs of dignity and energy I had left siphoned into the ground. My toes grew roots, anchoring me in place. My legs became bark, brittle and unable to bend. I planted myself into the soil, seeking purchase to weather another storm…the storm of Sullivan’s temper.
I didn’t know how this would go.
I didn’t know if I’d be alive after it.
But…I would be brave.
I would not break.
I squared my shoulders and waited.
Without a word, he stepped toward me.
Chapter Seventeen
MY PSYCHE SPLIT DOWN the middle.
Part of me remained my own. It recognised my power, my rule, my right to hurt, humiliate, and harm the girl before me. It whispered monstrous things full of anger at being thwarted, temper at being denied, and rage at no longer having control over the situation.
The other part of me watched from a safe distance. The part that I’d always kept locked away because it was born from compassion, empathy, and rapport. Once upon a time, that part ruled all of me. These days, it had no sway in my decisions.
Yet, for the first time in forever, I had to admit I’d lost where this girl was concerned.
Only two weeks ago, my reign had been unmatched. This girl had landed on my shores, noticed my ownership of everything she touched, and began the journey to bow at my feet.
She’d walked to me.
But now?
Now, I walked to her.
Each footfall of my expensive shoes, each whisper of my custom-tailored suit, I recognised that something horrid had happened.
She owned this moment.
She could’ve hidden until we’d flown away.
She could’ve run the moment we landed.
Each time I thought I’d figured her out, she did the opposite, and it fucked with my head.
Unlike our first meeting when she stepped elegantly toward me, her head proud on her regal neck, her willowy body bruised from other men, this time she stood unquakingly fearless. Her hair salt-dusted and crinkled, seaweed braided in one strand and a vine with three leaves wrapped around another. A jasmine blossom tangled with the fine chocolate spun around her face, spilling white flowers down her cheek.
Her stomach rose and fell with each breath—the only sign of her panic. The black bikini hid the intimate parts of her but revealed swatches of delicate muscle and breakable bone. No longer alabaster, she glowed with an unhealthy red from sunburn. Her nose already peeled a little and her eyes were no longer a smoky grey but a brilliant, blazing silver.
The crown she wore hadn’t slipped from her adventures on storm-whipped seas. If anything, it had grown from a small tiara to a diamond-encrusted headdress. Heavy and uniquely tied to the untapped well of strength she possessed.
It only made me snarl.
I wanted to snatch her, scar her, and ensure she never looked at me the way she was now—a blend of terror and