moved round, long shadows slanting on the floorboards, the owl still hunting.
It was five o’clock already and sleep hadn’t come. Though her bed had still been warm, her own impression still visible on the sheets as she fell back in, she had lain stiff and wretched, trying to make sense of what had happened: her ready capitulation, his unequivocal rejection. Had she imagined what had pulsed between them in those few moments? It had felt as real and alive as her thumping heart. And yet, could she deny that almost every day he had treated her with scorn and resentment? That he had told her plainly it had meant nothing?
She felt the tears fall again, hot on her cheeks, the pillow and her hair damp. She would have sworn, in that room, by that bed, the raw emotion in those few moments of swollen silence had been more real than any cruel word or askance look. But she was mistaken, clearly. In just her t-shirt, sloughed of sleep, she had revealed her longing to him, only to be dangled like a mouse by its tail. He had toyed with her, that was the truth. It was a power play, designed to humiliate. He couldn’t kick her off his island, he couldn’t keep her out of his son’s life, so he had brought her to her knees instead. Literally, put her on her knees.
Five o’clock and already it was bright outside, the impatient sun rising even though the moon still floated through the sky. She needed to get away from here. Her friends would be here in a few hours; she could wait for them at the hotel. Treat herself to an early breakfast, lie by the pool, read a book, forget she’d ever met Emil Von Greyers.
She pushed herself up to sitting and planted her feet on the floor, head hanging low, hair falling forwards. She could do this. She could. All she had to do was tap him on the shoulder, ask him his name, leave again. Job done.
Heart pounding, she carefully opened her door and walked silently down the hall. The first pale dawn rays fell in through the tall windows that gave onto the lawn, casting the world in shades of peach and white.
She paused at his door and took a deep breath. Nearly there. Twenty more seconds and this would be over . . . She could leave.
She opened it and looked in. He was lying on his back, one arm bent behind his head, one leg folded beneath the sheet. His boxers were on the floor and she could tell from the hard set of his muscles and the rhythm of his breathing that he was awake.
Bell felt herself freeze as Hanna stirred beside him and gave a small moan. Her blonde hair was draped across his chest, her lithe body pale in the moonlight, scarcely covered by the sheet. Emil looked down at her, then back at Bell, desire spent, despair in his eyes.
His voice was flat when he spoke. ‘It’s okay. I’m awake.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘Well, some of us are living the life!’ Tove laughed, dropping a heavy bag on the sunbed and jolting her awake with a loving prod to the backside.
‘Ugh.’ Bell pushed her sunglasses up and squinted up at her. ‘I was sleeping!’
‘Billionaire lifestyle getting too much for you, is it?’ Tove threw out a towel and pulled off her sundress in one fluid movement. She was wearing a purple bandeau bikini that immediately made Bell’s yellow string one look basic.
‘How did you . . .? Oh, Kris.’
‘Oh, babe, please. I already worked it out. How many rich dudes coming out of seven-year comas do you think there are in Sweden?’
‘Oh.’ She rested her cheek on her hands and sighed wearily, watching as Tove flopped down beside her with a sigh, her lean body gleaming in the already fierce sun. ‘Where are the boys?’
‘Coming in a bit. They wanted to do a hike first before we kick off in style. You know what they’re like. Puritans. Can’t enjoy themselves without a bit of punishment first.’ She spied Bell’s Coke on the table beside her. ‘Oooh, I hope there’s rum in that thing,’ she winked, taking a long sip through the straw. ‘Fuck, there actually is!’ she spluttered a moment later, coughing and kicking her long legs about. ‘Why didn’t you warn me?’
‘I would have if you’d given me a chance.’
Tove stared at her. ‘You don’t drink rum and Coke at lunchtime. You’re