hot, but it’s warm enough.
I stand beside his chair, my shadow falling across his face and chest, blocking the sun. Jonathan glances up from his tablet, and just like that, the serious expression slowly withers away.
There’s still that usual harshness, the hardness of the man beneath. However, his features relax and his lips twitch in a heart-stopping smile.
God. I’ll never get enough of his smile. It doesn’t help that he’s so stingy with it.
“You’re up.”
I’m still feeling relieved for finding him here. Add his smile, and I totally can’t find my voice right now, so I nod.
He raises a brow. “You said you didn’t have jet lag.”
“I was tired.”
“Is that so? Did I exhaust you, wild one?”
“A little.”
“A little? We need to take care of that next time so that it’s more than a little.”
“Fine, a lot. Happy now?” I couldn’t control the burning of my cheeks, even if I wanted to.
“Come here.” Even though his eyes are covered with sunglasses, I can almost see the darkening of that grey colour.
“Come where? There’s no room.”
He clutches me by the wrist and pulls me down. I gasp, expecting us both to topple over the chair. Instead, I end up half-lying atop of him, fingers splayed on his T-shirt.
“You were saying? Something about no room?”
For a moment, I’m lost in his sunglasses-covered eyes, in the way they watch me. The weird, yet overwhelming, sensation I felt while staring at our reflection in the mirror during the shower hits me again.
I shut the door on that thought and ask what I came down here for, “Where’s my phone?”
“You don’t need it.”
“I have to make sure Layla and her family are safe.”
“They are. Harris told me they arrived at Birmingham.”
“I want to talk to her myself. At least let me call Harris.”
“There will be no talking to Harris.” He taps a few things on his tablet. “Here, call Layla.”
I grin, taking the tablet from his hand, and dial Layla. I’m surprised it’s saved in his SIM card, even if it is under ‘Black Belt’. “Why do you have Layla’s phone number?”
“She’s an important part of your life,” he says, as if that explains everything.
I try to get into a sitting position, because lying all over Jonathan is distracting as hell, and wait for her to pick up. It rings a few times before she answers.
“This is called stalking, Johnny. We are not going to stay at a hotel you’re paying for. Save your money for charity.”
I stare at him. He wanted to make her and her family stay at a hotel and even called her about it? Why didn’t I know anything about this?
The shades cover his expression, but I doubt there’s a reaction or an apology in there. He does whatever he pleases and is usually convinced that it’s the right thing.
“Now, let me talk to Aurora,” Layla demands. “Or I’m going to come out of the phone and strangle you — wait. Don’t hang up. I won’t actually do it.”
I chuckle. “It’s me, Lay.”
“Mate! Are you okay? You’re unharmed, right? Did that brute Jonathan do something to you?”
He did a lot of things, but none of them were brutish. If anything, they warmed my heart like nothing ever has.
How sad is my life if Jonathan is the highlight of it? Or maybe it’s sad because I waited so long for something like this, and I got more than I bargained for in this impossible man.
He might be a tyrant, but he’s the best to ever exist.
“I’m fine, Lay. We’re at a beautiful island and I wish you were here. Are you guys okay?”
“As long as you’re safe, we are.” She sighs. “Mama and Papa send their love, and they said we’ll all stand behind you.”
“Lay…” My voice breaks.
“Hey, don’t go sappy on me. We still need to talk about how you hid your past from me all these years. I demand compensation.”
“A hug?”
“In your dreams. Okay, maybe this once.”
I smile. “Are you guys comfy?”
“Totes.”
My gaze trails to Jonathan, who could be either watching me or the ocean. “Maybe you should take Jonathan’s offer.”
“Nope. Not gonna happen.”
“Are you at your relatives’ in Birmingham?”
“We decided against it. We didn’t really want to bring them trouble.”
“Then where are you?”
“Somewhere better than Johnny’s hotel.”
“Where?”
“He came over as soon as we arrived here and told us we were welcome at his mansion. Told you, he’s Daddy. Hold on.”
Oh, God. No, she didn’t.
There’s a rustle at the other end of the line before a smooth, familiar voice filters