Page 3 of Island Guardian (Brookwell Island #7)

“Yes. Desperately,” she admitted. She sat up on her knees, scooted closer.

“Antonio is one of the most condescending men I’ve met in my life.

He’s a vice-president of something or other in the family management company.

” She tucked a wayward curl behind her ear.

“He was shocked that America hadn’t turned me into a troll.

I can only imagine what my parents told him,” she muttered.

“For three days he trailed after me giving me tips to improve our systems and efficiency.”

Now Rhett laughed. Turning toward her, he propped one hand on his knee, curling his fingers into a fist. “I was so annoyed that weekend after the arson issues at the resort, having my family turn to you for help. I stalked around town, primed to jump into a fight with anyone. Not the most constructive outlet outside of a boxing ring. If you’d given me a sign, I would’ve taken him down a peg or two. ”

This was a side of him she’d never seen. “If only I’d known,” she said with dramatic wistfulness. “Somehow, I managed to dissuade him all by myself. No fighting required.”

“Too bad for me.” He laughed. “Was Bachelor Number Two more of the same?”

“Yes. He literally did a double take when he saw me.” A pinch around her heart couldn’t be ignored.

“My parents mean well.” She had to keep believing that or give in to despair.

“They have no idea how our generation thinks. They don’t realize that by recruiting men to date me, those same men assume there must be something wrong with me that interferes with my romantic pursuits. ”

Admittedly, she did have some specific trust issues that kept her single. But she liked her life. Unlike her parents, she wasn’t convinced marriage was necessary for a life to feel complete.

“Pursuits? You sound like someone who stepped out of the past. Who talks like that anymore? ”

She deflated a little under the pointed criticism.

“I’ll take it under advisement.” Old world vocabulary aside, she wasn’t comfortable dating, no matter who introduced her.

She’d never told anyone her reasons—and didn’t plan to start now.

She’d been working on her problems, she just hadn’t solved them yet.

“I’ve asked them for more time,” she murmured.

Parental pressure wasn’t helping matters.

“What’s the rush?”

She shrugged. “My mother is the only one of her friends without grandchildren. She thinks I’m too focused on my career and wants me to have balance. According to my dad it’s all about retirement. They want to hand the management company over to a?—”

“Good Italian boy?” he finished for her.

“Yes.” Not her. Not by herself at any rate and that stung. Deeply.

“Why didn’t Bachelor Number Two work out?”

She flicked a hand. “That was more of a mutual decision. He was nice enough.” At least on the surface. Appearances could be deceiving, and she’d been fooled before. “There was no chemistry,” she said, seizing on an excuse Harper had supplied when they’d chatted at the time.

“Because?”

“Pardon?”

“Why wasn’t there any chemistry?”

Why was he pushing her? Possibly for the same reason she seemed to be sharing so much.

“He’s gay. He assumed that I was too and, like him, had reasons for keeping that private.

He thought we could marry each other and keep our secrets along with our true loves.

Especially with my career so far away from Italy.

“Now though, I wish I’d done it,” she muttered.

“Married a man who wasn’t interested?” Rhett whistled. “ One way to defy your parents. But this whole mess is absurd. Want my dad to talk to them?”

The Ellington siblings were good friends. “Harper suggested the same thing a while ago.” She shook her head. “What’s the point? They see me as their pudgy awkward daughter who works because there’s nothing else to do.”

“You could date anyone,” he declared.

“Please don’t,” she warned. She didn’t want platitudes, not from a man as handsome and accomplished as Rhett.

“You’re lovely, Trina.”

She snorted. He couldn’t be serious. Rhett was the man who’d glowered at her through their entire year of study in France. Although she might’ve started it by turning to others for that first team project. At the time, she was all-in on her own goals and he was so carefree, almost lazy.

Until she’d started winning every challenge.

“Referring to my professional personality, surely.”

“I’m not. You could have your pick of men.”

“Hm.” Where were these compliments coming from? Harper wasn’t here to see him making the effort. He was being too kind and she couldn’t afford to let her mind wander. “I should’ve picked Bachelor Number Two.” She fiddled with her phone. Maybe if she called him now…

“Why would you settle for an illusion, when that’s not what you want?”

He had no idea what she wanted. Correction: he didn’t know what she needed. She’d heard the rumors about his active dating life. All the sexy fun, none of the commitment. Which didn’t bother her, he was welcome to choose whatever made him happy.

“Because then this would be over,” she said. “Over and done.” She swore in her native Italian. “Really, Rhett, these issues aren’t your business.”

She needed to go back to the Inn and do whatever she could to brace herself for the new arrival. “Thanks for checking on me.” Standing, she dusted the sand from her dress. “Good night.”

“You’re scared.”

It wasn’t a question, though she treated it as one. “What are you talking about?”

“Bachelor Number Three,” he clarified. “You’re scared of him.”

She counted on the moonlight and shadows to conceal her shock. He didn’t know her well enough to reach that conclusion. She felt a moment’s panic that he’d somehow learned her terrible secret. But that was impossible. She didn’t speak of it outside of therapy.

“No,” she said firmly, finding her voice. “I’m a grown woman. I have nothing to be afraid of.”

“I beg to differ. Over the past year, I’ve started boxing at Max’s gym. A local place,” he explained before she could ask. “Boxing is a great workout. A bunch of Guardian Agency security folks train there too. They’ve shared plenty of stories that contradict your theory.”

“How… unpleasant,” she decided. Of course she knew the world was dangerous, but she wouldn’t be a victim again.

“Trina.” He stepped closer.

She backpedaled before she realized what she’d done. “Let it go, Rhett.”

“Let me help you.”

He couldn’t—short of marrying her before this next prospect showed up.

“Let it go,” she repeated. Her parents were set on this for her.

They wouldn’t be easily stopped until they had their way.

Though their outlandish and pushy efforts annoyed, she’d been sure she could tolerate the nonsense and graciously defer any decisions until she found a way to make them listen.

But Luca Gallo? She shivered. She hadn’t dreamed they’d send him . How had he even wormed his way onto their potential-groom radar?

“I’m fine,” she fibbed. “Good night.” She turned away from the moon and gazed up to the velvet darkness of the stars twinkling above the trees on the western side of the island. Better that than dwelling on the sexy shape of Rhett’s chiseled profile.

“Did you walk all this way?”

“I did. It’s not so far.” He made a ten minute walk sound insurmountable. “And the weather’s clear.”

“It’s dark,” he countered. “I’ll drive you back.”

She didn’t see much point in arguing. “Would that make you feel better?”

“Yes.”

Instead of heading down the beach toward the access closest to the Inn, she aimed for the access across from the Pelican. “Tell me, are there any American legends about finding Mr. Right under a pink moon?”

He snorted. There was no misinterpreting that sound. She hadn’t really expected him to be informed or enthused about romantic myths. “I’m only teasing.”

“Do you want to get married, Trina?”

The words struck her wrong. The syllables bunching up and then stretching out. He couldn’t mean… “Is that a proposal, Mr. Ellington?”

His jaw dropped. “No, I mean…” he tipped his head. “No. But not because of you. It’s me.”

“Goodness.” She forced a laugh. “You’re giving me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ talk and we haven’t even gone out a single time.

That must be a new record.” Trina had never actually been on the receiving end of that particular break-up conversation.

Mainly because she didn’t go out with anyone long enough for it to qualify as a relationship.

The soft, dry sand shifted under her feet, an echo of her general unease with her predicament.

As she mulled what Rhett had said, ignoring what he meant, a wild idea began to take root.

Marriage was an excellent option. If she was married, her parents couldn’t randomly interfere anymore.

Couldn’t shove more arrogant, disinterested men at her.

No more startling text messages about another potential groom arriving to ruin a fun evening.

If she married, they’d either accept her choice of husband or not, but she could stop living with this obnoxious cloud hanging over her head.

Of course, there was no sign of a willing groom nearby. Did she need a real groom or would a stand-in be enough of a deterrent? She had to do something, because Bachelor Number Three would be here in a few days. And nothing filled her heart with more dread than that man.

It hadn’t always been that way. Their families had been close and once upon a time she’d considered Luca a good friend.

Her parents had always considered him the consummate example of a self-made man.

Despite the tragic deaths of his parents, he’d worked his way through university, graduated with honors, and immediately landed a prestigious position.

Since then, he continued to impress important people as he climbed the corporate ladder, gaining more influence with every upward move.