The Island Arrangement

Chapter 1

one

. . .

BLAKE

All I could focus on was the pair of smooth, tanned legs striding towards me.

Every rational, civilized thought fled my mind as I stared over the top of my tablet, my gaze drifting upwards to discover that those legs were attached to an amazing body and equally beautiful face.

She was everything I’d hoped for and nothing like I’d expected, dressed in a figure-hugging black-and and-white checked pencil skirt with a white linen blouse that dipped at the swell of her breasts. She’d paired it with black stiletto heels that short-circuited my brain.

I shifted in my seat, the other men in the room turning to glance at her as she walked by.

She didn’t look at all out of place. She looked like a CEO’s wife, just as I’d asked in the brief I’d given. Only, she was the hottest take on a CEO’s wife I’d ever seen. When I’d replied to the hiring agency email asking for physical specifications for the type of woman I wanted, I never imagined they’d deliver so meticulously. If I’d met her at a bar or at the gym, I might have considered hitting on her.

But not here. Not like this.

This was purely business. Which meant I’d be keeping my distance.

I returned to the financial article I was reading on my tablet, refusing to be caught checking her out.

“Blake?” she asked, stopping at my table. Her bright blue eyes were alight, a smile stretched across her face, showing off straight, white teeth. And those lips… they were almost as perfect as her legs.

“Honor?”

Her smile stretched wider, and she nodded, slipping her bag from her shoulder and placing it on the chair, then sliding onto the plush bench seat across from me with casual ease. Her long blonde hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, the ends brushing her shoulders when she turned her head.

“Do you want a drink?” I motioned to the waiter who appeared at our table.

She turned her smile on him. “A glass of champagne, please.”

He nodded, heading to the bar to fulfill her request, and those bright blue eyes landed back on me. “So, your brother’s getting married. How do you feel about that?”

The question threw me. She wanted to know how I felt about my brother’s wedding? I didn’t have time to feel any kind of way about it. I had a business to run and deals to close. Having to fly to Antigua for three weeks of nuptial celebrations with my family was wholly inconvenient. My brother was lucky I cared about him as much as I did because there was no one else I’d take this much time off for.

And why did she care about how it made me feel? She was being paid to do a job, not check in on my emotional state. If I wanted to talk about my feelings, I’d get myself a therapist. Or a girlfriend.

“I feel fine about it.”

Her eyebrow quirked ever so slightly. “Ah, that word. Fine. It generally means the person using it isn’t.”

“Isn’t what?”

“Fine.”

I lowered the tablet. “Well, when I use it, I mean it. You won’t find any pretense with me. I say exactly what I mean.”

She smiled as though I’d just revealed some kind of secret. “I’m figuring that out already.”

The waiter returned as I went back to my reading, and he placed a full champagne flute in front of her. He was a young guy, maybe twenty-two at best, and he lingered, smiling down at her.

“Thank you,” she said brightly, reaching for the glass to take a sip.

I knew that look on his face. I’d looked like that enough times myself, back when I was a young idiot who thought I could get women totally out of my league too.

Lowering my tablet once more, I gave him a pointed look. “That’ll be all.”

He startled, his face flushing, and he hurried away. Honor tried to hide her smile as she looked out the window at a plane slowly passing on its way to a gate. I returned to the article, planning to ignore her as much as I could.

I was determined to set the boundaries between us from the get-go. We weren’t going to be friends at the end of this. I wasn’t going to give her the impression this was anything other than a business deal. It didn’t matter how beautiful she was, this relationship was nothing more than a three-week transaction so I didn’t have to face the inevitable onslaught of questions from my family about my relationship status.

I was fed up with being hounded about when I was going to settle down, if I was going to get married for real, or when I’d start producing grandkids for my mother to fuss over. My family made it seem as if having a wife would improve my life exponentially, instead of giving me a headache I didn’t need. I didn’t have time to consider someone else’s feelings all day, every day. A partner would just get in my way. And I'd been burned so thoroughly by my last girlfriend that I'd sworn off any kind of serious relationship for life.

It was for the best, really. I’ve never been good with people.

“This airport lounge is beautiful. I’ve never been here before.”

“It’s the Chairman’s Lounge. Only directors, CEOs, and other top performers get an invitation to join,” I said, not bothering to lower the tablet this time.

“Is that what you are? A top performer in business?”

Her expression held no hint of teasing, merely a genuine curiosity.

I closed the tablet, discarding it on the table. “I run my own real estate development business, so yes.”

She nodded. “That must be nice.”

“Nice? It’s grueling, cutthroat and a shit-ton of hard work.”

She tilted her head, studying me. “So, what do you do for fun then? To combat all that intensity?”

What the hell kind of question is that?

“I work.”

You didn’t get to where I was—didn’t climb as high as I had or become as successful—by taking time out for frivolous shit like bowling night or weekends away in wine country. But I didn’t say that out loud because I knew it would make me sound like a total asshole… even if I was one.

She gave me a look like she’d expected that answer and went back to watching the planes go by, sipping her drink.

She was a companion for hire — not an escort, the emails from the service had been very clear on that, which made me think she may have been propositioned by her clients in the past. Can’t say I blamed the guys for trying. She was nothing like I’d expected. I’d imagined someone playing dress up, someone who looked the part of a billionaire’s girlfriend but couldn’t quite make it stick. Instead, she seemed perfectly at home. I was good at reading people—a crucial skill in any boardroom or business deal—and she didn’t seem nervous or look out of place surrounded by the opulence of the lounge and some of the country’s top business moguls.

She looked… at ease .

Maybe she was more experienced than I was giving her credit for. Or maybe she was just that good at her job. That second idea left me mildly impressed by her tenacity.

She placed her glass on the table and leaned closer.

“Should we talk about how the next few weeks are going to go? Come up with a game plan?” She gave me that small smile again, this time as though we were teammates nutting out how to take down the opposition.

I had no idea what to do with the twinge in my chest as she leaned closer.

Clearing my throat, I pulled my shit together. I didn’t drool over women like a teenage boy. They generally threw themselves at me, not the other way around.

I had to keep my head on straight or I’d never survive this vacation with my sanity intact and my dick in my pants. The last thing I needed was a lawsuit from a hired ‘companion.’

“We’ll be in Antigua for three weeks. The first two weeks will be pre-wedding events, followed by the ceremony. Then for some god-forsaken reason my brother wants us to stay another week afterwards with him and his new bride.”

A small frown creased her forehead. “You don’t like him?”

“I love my brother.”

“Then is it his choice of fiancée you don’t like?”

I shook my head. “Kelly is great. She’s good for him. I just don’t know why in the hell anyone would want their family on their honeymoon.”

She sat back in her chair, retreating inside her head for a moment. “It is an unusual choice…”

Her reaction made me wonder about her relationship with her family. Not that I’d ever ask, because ultimately, I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. She and I were not going to get to know each other, period. I only needed to know enough about her to pass her off as my girlfriend for the next three weeks and keep my family off my back.

“Can I ask you something?” she said, picking up her champagne again.

I nodded once and her gaze drifted over my tailored navy suit, crisp white shirt and expensive silver watch. “Why invite me? Why not just bring a date?”

Invite her. As though she were a friend I’d asked along, instead of a woman I was paying to accompany me. I didn’t want her to have any delusions of a fairy-tale romance where we fell for each other under the palm trees of Antigua. She wasn’t about to become some kind of Cinderella stand-in bagging a billionaire.

So, I gave it to her the only way I knew how—straight up.

“I find other people’s feelings inconvenient. So, I’m paying for the privilege of not having to care about yours.”

I waited for a look of outrage, or even surprise, to cross her face.

Instead, she pressed her lips together like she was trying not to laugh.

At me.

Then she smiled. “I can work with that.”