Page 52 of Kinks of a Billionaire

Then he showed me exactly how greedy he was.

The next day, we were out on the town, making the most of the Dominican. Royce was sipping rum and I was devouring a plate of Bandera Dominicana, a traditional dish, when his phone rang.

I watched his expression turn black, but whoever was on the line did most of the talking. His demeanor relaxed when he hung up, but my curiosity was piqued.

“Something wrong?”

His gaze flickered to my phone, lying flat on the table. He raked his teeth over his bottom lip before he answered, “We need to turn off our phones.”

I stared at him until he met my eye. “Why?”

Deep in the pit of my stomach, I knew. “Stuart’s calling around, trying to access our location.”

I wasn’t surprised, but I was disappointed. Scared. Without another word, I lifted my phone and powered it off.

“Who gave you the heads-up?”

“Alexei.”

As he paid the bill, I asked, “Where are we going next?”

“Bermuda.”

We were definitely taking the long way home.

We set sail the very same night, and as the soft island lights disappeared from view, I already missed it. There wasn’t a single moment on this island I didn’t love, and I could only hope we’d be back one day—the three of us.

This next island was a slice of paradise. Tropical trees surrounded us. The birds chirped. Waves crashed against the shoreline. The sun shone through large palm fronds, kissing our skin. It was everything I could have wanted and more.

“This is wonderful.” I stepped closer to Royce, taking a deep inhale of his fresh scent. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to stretch my legs.”

“I know how much you love physical exercise,” he remarked, and his teasing tone didn’t escape me.

I swatted his arm gently. “You make it sound like I hate it.”

He chuckled warmly.

“But you don’t love it.” I rolled my eyes, choosing to remain quiet. “I read it’s healthy for a woman to be active while pregnant, but you might not want to start vigorous exercise if it hasn’t already been part of your routine.”

Warmth rushed through me. His admission made me want to jump his bones and kiss him all over. This version of Royce that he kept closed off from the world—the one who went out of his way to readpregnancy blogs—was the one that had stolen my heart.

Wait. What?

I tripped and would have face-planted into the dirt if it hadn’t been for Royce’s reflexes. My gaze lowered to his inked arm with the mountain landscape wrapped around my waist, holdingme up, and everything inside me fluttered like this was my first crush.

And, ironically, Royce Ashfordwasmy first crush, but then I grew up and got over it. At least I thought I had.

Jesus Christ.

I’d fallen hopelessly in love with Royce again. My husband. My best friend. My lover. Somewhere in the past few weeks, Royce had burrowed into my life. Once we slept together, he’d insisted we sleep in the same bed, threatening to throw me overboard when I suggested space.

The truth was I couldn’t imagine waking up in the morning without him by my side.

“Where on the map are we exactly?” I asked, choosing not to dwell on this revelation.

“Right here.” He pointed at the middle of the screen that showed the Atlantic Ocean. “We’re only a few miles away from Bermuda.”

Once I was steady on my feet, Royce slid his hand into mine, intertwining our fingers, and we continued trekking.