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Chapter One

Six months later…

His name was Andrew James Chadwick. And tomorrow I would be his wife. I would be Mrs. Andrew James Chadwick…No more single and solitary Lauren Gray.

I could hardly believe how much my life had changed since the fire, since I'd met Andrew, since I'd fallen in love with my rescuer. Now, we were getting married at the very resort I'd been writing marketing copy for six months earlier. Ironically, I was about to become the bride in the ad I'd created, the one I'd thought was impossibly perfect. I still couldn't quite believe it.

Nor could I believe that the Carrington Hospitality Group had decided to use my wedding as the launch for not only the marketing of our new resort on Catalina, the Carrington Coastal Retreat, but also the physical grand opening, which would happen on Wednesday, five days from now.

I'd not only met the man of my dreams; I was also getting the wedding of my dreams, thanks to the generosity of my employer, a family-run enterprise currently led by Victor Carrington, who had inherited the company from his father. Victor's son Bennett was a vice president in the company, although that seemed to be more of a title than an actual job. But both Bennett and Victor had signed off on using me and Andrew as the wedding couple in the campaign, and Victor, in particular, had moved a significant amount of money into the team budget to make everything first-class.

In charge of the actual wedding events was Jeanette Bilson a forty-something whirlwind of energy, sophistication, and determination. She'd spent ten years directing weddings for Hilton, and she was determined that my wedding events would be absolutely perfect. Because the wedding and resort marketing were tied together, Jeanette worked closely with my boss, Megan Farris, who was the senior director of marketing for the Carrington Hospitality Group. That meant I not only had to impress as the bride; I also had to do my job and represent my employer to the best of my ability.

Megan and Jeanette had their heads together now, standing by the bar in the five-star restaurant known as Bella Mar, which was the site of my rehearsal dinner. The restaurant was stunning, with floor-to-ceiling windows, elegant lamps on the tables, and discreetly placed sconces on the walls, adding soft light to the beautiful ocean-inspired art. While Andrew and I had invited twenty of our friends and family to the rehearsal dinner and the wedding tomorrow, the rest of the group at tonight's event included resort employees and media. That had added another fifty people to the guest list, most of whom I didn't know.

But that didn't matter. The only person I needed to know in this room was the tall, blond, very attractive man who was laughing with his two groomsmen at the far end of the bar. Andrew was so handsome. My gut clenched every time I saw him. I could hardly believe he was going to be my husband. I'd never dated anyone so good-looking, open, and outgoing. He was always the life of the party, and because I was with him, I'd become a lot more popular, too.

If someone had told me six months ago, I’d be standing here about to marry the man who had saved my life, I would have laughed and said they were crazy. Or maybe I would have cried because I'd been really sad before Andrew had rescued me. He hadn't just saved me from the fire; he'd saved me from my lonely, grief-ridden, workaholic life.

"He's just a man, Lauren," Harper said, coming up behind me. "Not a knight in shining armor."

I smiled at the knowing and cynical glint in my friend's hazel eyes. I'd met the tall, thin, very blonde, and very sarcastic Harper Miles on my first day of work at the Carrington Group a year and a half ago. While I was tasked with writing ad copy and developing art for marketing campaigns, Harper was an assistant director of guest experience, working with individual hotel managers to make sure there was consistency throughout the brand. Harper would be working with the on-site manager of guest experience at this new resort starting on Monday, but this weekend, she was one of my two bridesmaids.

My other bridesmaid, Jamie Trent, was also a coworker, but she was in the accounting department. Jamie and Harper had been friends long before they met me, but they'd included me in their lunches and after-work drinks, something I'd appreciated even more before I met Andrew.

"Seriously, Lauren, you're practically drooling," Harper added, rolling her eyes.

"Because I'm in love, and Andrew will always be my knight in shining armor. How could he not be? He saved my life."

"I know. I know." Harper gave a weary wave of her hand. "But that was months ago. What about when he leaves shoes on the bed or cuts his toenails while sitting on the couch watching football and drinking beer?" Harper challenged.

"He's not that kind of man."

"From my experience, they all turn into that kind of man at some point, Lauren."

"Not Andrew. He's different."

"Is he? You haven't known him that long."

"Time doesn't mean anything. You should know that better than anyone." My impulsive words landed hard, and I immediately felt bad. Harper's longtime boyfriend had turned out to be cheating on her after years of being together. That was three months ago, and Harper was still justifiably upset about it. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you're right." Harper's lips tightened. "I knew Peter for two years, and it wasn't long enough."

I felt guilty that I'd reminded her of a painful time in her life. I'd just gotten a little tired of hearing about how fast I was moving. She'd been singing that song since I got engaged, and she wasn't the only one.

"I know you and Jamie are looking out for me," I said. "But you have to stop trying to make me nervous about getting married. I know what I'm doing. Andrew is my forever guy. He's the one." I almost added, He has to be, because I couldn't imagine how horrible it would feel if this ended, if I was alone again. But that sounded too desperate, too fearful, and I wasn't either of those things. Andrew and I were good together, and I wasn't going to second-guess my decision to marry him.

"Okay. I'll shut up. I want you to be happy, Lauren. You deserve it. I just feel protective of you. You went through such a difficult time after losing your mom. You were so sad and unhappy when we first met. I don't want to see that bleak look in your eyes ever again."

"You won't. And you like Andrew, remember?"

"I do like him. He's a hard man not to like. He's very charming. I promise to stop being a jealous brat and support you wholeheartedly."

"Good. Because I need you. This weekend is going to be a lot."

"It's definitely shaping up that way. I never thought your marketing idea would escalate into a two-day wedding weekend extravaganza. You're a lucky woman, Lauren."

"I know. I never could have afforded anything like this."

"None of us could. So is your family here?"

"I don't see them yet, but my Aunt Lydia texted me they'd gotten off the ferry around four, so they should be showing up soon."

My aunt and uncle, Lydia and Hugh Paulson, and their daughter Marian and her husband Travis, were my only family members that would be in attendance. I came from a very small family, and I wasn't even that close to them.

Lydia had been my mother's older sister by six years, and they'd never been that close, but Lydia had been nice enough to come, and I was happy to have some blood relatives at the event. Not for the first time, I felt a wave of sadness that my mom wasn't here to see me get married. But lingering on that thought was too painful, so I pushed it aside and looked back at Andrew, who had quickly become my stable buoy whenever my emotions threatened to overwhelm me.

"What's he doing here?" Harper suddenly murmured.

"Who?"

"Him."

I followed her gaze to the dark-haired man with piercing green eyes, wearing a black suit with a maroon tie. He was sipping a cocktail and perusing the group more like a predator than a guest.

But Ethan Stark wasn't a guest. At least, he hadn't been on my guest list. Victor had probably invited him. Ethan worked as an investigator for the insurance company that had insured the art in Victor's office, art that had been destroyed during the hotel fire. He had shown up in my hospital room the day after the fire to interview me, and then again at my apartment a week later, armed with detailed blueprints, security footage, and more questions.

He'd been particularly focused on my presence in the office so late, the elevator's malfunction, and Andrew appearing at exactly the right moment. I'd explained everything, but there was something unnerving about the way he relentlessly questioned me, the way he looked at me as if I were a puzzle piece he was trying to fit into a bigger picture.

Over the following months, he'd backed off, probably because he'd found no evidence to prove our stories weren't true. But now he was here at our wedding, and he was the last person I wanted to see.

"Did you know he was coming?" Harper asked, turning back to me.

"No. I thought the fire claims were settled months ago. And why would he be here on this island? The fire happened in Newport Beach."

"I heard Victor is moving some of his personal art collection to his villa here. Apparently, he's planning to spend more time on the island and less time in Beverly Hills."

"It is a beautiful location, but the Carringtons lead such busy lives, it's difficult to believe they'd be happy camping out on this island."

Harper shrugged. "They can afford to have as many homes as they want. And while Victor and Paula lead busy lives, they don't always seem to be living their lives in the same place. I'm not sure that marriage isn't in name only." Harper lifted her wine glass to take another drink, then realized it was empty. "I need a refill. Do you want something?"

"Not yet. I'm trying to pace myself."

"Why on earth would you want to do that? It's your wedding weekend. Have fun, go wild. It's your last chance."

"I don't care about going wild."

"Well, that's true. I sometimes wonder if Andrew knows you're not into partying as much as he is."

Andrew probably did like parties more than I did, but he was happy to leave when I was ready to go. And he always told me that being alone with me was all he really wanted or needed.

As Harper left to go to the bar, Ethan Stark appeared in front of me, carrying two glasses of champagne.

"Congratulations," he said, handing me a glass.

"Thank you," I said, avoiding his penetrating green gaze. There was something unnervingly perceptive about the way he watched people, as if he could see right through to their soul.

"I'm probably the last person you wanted to see at your rehearsal dinner," he said, a hint of a smile softening his hard jaw.

"You are," I admitted. "What are you doing on the island?"

"I'm overseeing the security for Victor's art collection, which is being delivered to his villa this week."

"That has nothing to do with my wedding or this rehearsal dinner."

"Victor told me the wedding events are open to everyone on staff."

"That's true," I said tightly. "I hope you enjoy yourself."

"No, you don't," he said with a wry smile. "But I get it. I'm not very popular with people I have to investigate."

"Well, clearly your investigation came up with nothing, or I would have heard from you before now."

"The insurance company paid off on the paintings that were allegedly destroyed," he said. "I'm still not convinced they weren't stolen and that the fire wasn't cover for the theft. Unfortunately, I can't prove that."

I was relieved to hear that the investigation was over. I didn't want anything to mar our wedding weekend.

"It's interesting how quickly you and Andrew went from a rescue to a wedding," Ethan continued. "It's only been six months since you met."

"When you know something is right, you know."

"Or you're not looking closely enough. Perfection is often an illusion."

"Andrew and I aren't perfect, but we are in love. And that is not an illusion," I said. "Do you come by your cynicism because of your job or because you haven't been lucky enough to find love?"

He gave me a small smile. "Both. Working fraud for the last decade has definitely made me unwilling to take anything at face value. But I was also married for a short time until I found out my wife wanted the big fancy wedding far more than the marriage."

I couldn't say I was surprised he'd been married. He was very attractive in an intense, I'm going to know everything about you kind of way. Maybe that's why his wife had left him. But I kept that thought to myself, muttering, "I'm sorry."

"Love can be blinding."

Another not-so-subtle insinuation I was moving too fast. "I'm not blinded by love. I have my eyes wide open. Please don't judge my relationship by your own."

"Fine. How well do you know Allison McGuire?" he asked, changing the subject.

The random question startled me. "Who's Allison McGuire?"

"You don't know her? She's the redhead talking to Andrew."

I turned to see Andrew's trio had expanded to include a beautiful woman with dark red hair, wearing a form-fitting strapless dress, her shoulders bare, and a beautiful diamond necklace hanging around her neck. I had never seen her before, but Andrew was giving her a warm smile that suggested he knew her well.

"She must be one of Andrew's friends," I murmured.

"You haven't met her?"

"Not yet."

"Interesting. Did you know Allison had been staying in the room next to Andrew's for the three days prior to the hotel fire?"

"No. But he was there for a conference. I assume she was as well."

"She was registered for the conference."

"There you go."

"But they were more than friends back then, which makes me wonder why he'd invite his ex to his wedding, especially since you don't even know who she is."

My palms started to sweat. I felt like he'd just dropped a bomb, and he'd done it deliberately. He was looking for a reaction, and I really shouldn't give him one.

"How do you know they were more than friends?" I asked carefully. "Or is that another theory?"

He pulled out his phone, clicked on the screen, and turned it around to show me a photo of Andrew and Allison embracing outside the hotel. They were gazing into each other's eyes, and the hug definitely felt more intimate than friendly. The image hit me like a physical blow. Andrew had never mentioned he'd been at the conference with anyone he was involved with. But then, he hadn't really talked about his past at all. He'd told me he couldn't remember anyone he'd met before me, that everyone else had faded from his mind.

"Maybe you should ask him about Allison before you say I do," Ethan suggested.

"I don't need to do that. I trust Andrew completely. I don't care about his past relationships. He's with me now. Whatever happened before we met doesn't matter. And that photo was taken before the fire, which was before he met me."

"But isn't it odd that she's here at your wedding? Especially since he never mentioned her to you. It seems like you might want to ask yourself what else you don't know."

"Why are you trying to stir up trouble, Mr. Stark? You told me the investigation is closed."

"It's officially closed. Unofficially, I'm still looking for answers, and I'm going to find them."

"You won't find them here." I walked away. I couldn't listen to him for another second, but his words lingered in my mind. And somewhere beneath my anger was a whisper of doubt.

Why hadn't Andrew told me about Allison? He'd never even mentioned her name to me.

When I reached Andrew, Allison and his groomsmen had disappeared, and he was looking at something on his phone. As I joined him, he gave me a smile and put his phone into his pocket.

"I was just about to come looking for you, Lauren." He paused, his gaze running down my very expensive, form-fitting, navy-blue beaded cocktail dress that, according to the stylist, was the perfect shade for my dark-brown hair and light-blue eyes. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks. It took a village," I said lightly, still feeling like an imposter. I wasn't a sophisticated woman. I preferred jeans and sweaters, very little makeup, and barely running a brush through my shoulder-length wavy brown hair. But tonight, I looked like someone else, and maybe that was okay, because Andrew was looking at me with so much pleasure and longing that it made spending time in the makeup chair all the more worthwhile. "You look great, too. We clean up pretty well."

"We do." He gave me a speculative look. "Is everything okay? You seem…nervous."

"Ethan Stark is here."

"Really?" He turned his head, perusing the room, his gaze landing on Ethan, who was standing across the room, sipping his drink, and making no pretense of not watching us. "Did you talk to him?"

"Yes. He's still very suspicious of us. He can't seem to shake the idea we had something to do with starting the hotel fire and stealing Victor's paintings."

"He's never been able to prove that, and the investigation is over. I wouldn't worry about him, Lauren."

"He said the official investigation is completed, but he's still digging."

Andrew shrugged. "Well, he won't find anything, because there's nothing to find."

"I wish he wasn't here. He's very annoying."

"Don't let him get to you, Lauren."

"I don't like that he thinks we're thieves."

"Who cares what he thinks?" Andrew challenged. "We know who we are. And since the Carringtons are paying for everything, they get to have whoever they want at our wedding. If they believed we were thieves, they wouldn't have put us in the marketing campaign. Ignore him."

"You're right. Obviously, he told Victor what he thought about us, and Victor didn't care."

"Exactly. It's all good. Look at this beautiful restaurant we're standing in. We're about to be served dinner by a Michelin-starred chef. This is a wedding most people could only dream about. You should be smiling."

His words brought a smile to my lips. "You're right. I'm just starting to feel like I'm getting married in front of strangers."

"You have friends and family here, too. Try to relax and enjoy yourself."

I felt bad for dragging down his good mood, because he seemed irritated by my comments.

"I'm going to do that," I promised, but as soon as I saw the woman he'd been speaking to earlier re-enter the room with Andrew's friend Colin, I felt my entire body stiffen. I had to say something, but I didn't want to sound accusatory. "Who's that woman?" I asked, trying not to act like I cared that much. "The one with Colin."

"Allison McGuire," he replied without a trace of emotion in his voice.

"Is she with Colin?"

"Not as his date. She's a mutual friend of ours."

"I don't think I've heard you mention her."

"She's an interior designer we work with. We've known each other for years. She's been traveling in Europe the past few months, so I wasn't sure she could make it here this weekend."

And because she'd been traveling, it was probably why I'd never met her. I felt stupid for having felt even an ounce of jealousy about her. "That makes sense."

He gave me a speculative look. "What do you mean?"

"Mr. Stark told me Allison is your ex-girlfriend, and that she was staying in the room next to yours in the hotel the night we met."

An angry light flickered in Andrew's eyes. "She's not my ex-girlfriend. But she was at the conference. She works with a lot of real-estate developers." He paused, giving me a pointed look. "I'm in love with you, Lauren. I can't believe you would let some investigator make you think otherwise."

"I didn't believe him. I'm just telling you what he said."

"Good. Because you and me—that's all that matters."

"It is," I agreed as he drew me in for a kiss, his warm lips reassuring me more than any words could.

He was right. We were the only two people who mattered.

And if he wasn't right…Well, it was probably too late to be wrong.