Chapter 26
Caroline
I was surprised by how excited I was to see Lucien. His unexpected presence, the way he dove into the water and swam to shore, striding up the beach and shaking hands like this was all so normal. He was completely unlike every other billionaire I had met, even Harrison.
Part of it was that I was frustrated that Harrison wouldn’t tell me about his parents or his relationship with them. Maybe I could pry some good information out of Lucien while he was here. Or, at the very least, leverage his presence to get Harrison to talk more.
I got another drink from the bar, then mingled for a little while with the other people at the pavilion.
A president of a major television network.
A marketing grunt who was dragged along by her boss.
The CEO of Netflix. Bouncing between regular people and some of the most important people in the world was giving me whiplash.
Eventually, I left the pavilion and walked down to the beach. I stretched out, sighing into the fabric of the chair. These weren’t the cheap plastic ones I was used to. These were the kinds of chairs billionaires bought.
I giggled to myself. Two months ago, I never would have believed I would be in this position. And all because of a stupid auction that I didn’t even want to take part in.
A smaller boat left the enormous yacht that now dominated the horizon, heading straight for the beach.
It came right up on the beach until it was wedged onto the sand; Lucien was the only one on board.
He had changed into running shorts and a dry-fit tank top, and was carrying a handheld water bottle.
“Caroline. I did not recognize you there. I assumed you were a supermodel guest of Harrison’s.”
I gave him a playful glare. “Those kinds of lines don’t work on me, but thank you.”
“Line? I do not understand this word in this context.” He raised one foot behind him and grabbed it, stretching his quad.
“Going for a run?” Harrison asked, walking up behind me.
Lucien beamed. “On a day as beautiful as today? How could I not?”
“Let me get some security for you.” Harrison turned and waved at the pavilion.
Lucien laughed. “That is not necessary.”
“Our private property ends one mile up the beach,” Harrison warned. “After that, it’s public land. Anyone could be there.”
“If anyone accosts me, I will simply run faster!” Lucien winked at me, then began running up the beach, sand kicking behind him as he went.
The wink shouldn’t have filled me with warmth, but it did. He was undeniably attractive, and I found his carefree attitude refreshing.
Harrison let out a sigh and dropped into the chair next to me. “He does this all the time.”
“Puts himself in danger by running to a public beach?”
“Showing up at inconvenient times and stealing all the attention.”
“Oh?” I asked. “Why is this an inconvenient time?”
“I honestly don’t know. Yet.” Harrison shook his head. “But he’s going to disrupt something. I can feel it.”
“Is the Intel deal official yet?” I whispered.
Harrison glanced over his shoulder before answering. “The lawyers are finishing the paperwork. It’ll be a few more hours. Tomorrow at the latest.”
“I can help keep him away from Dyson, if you’re worried about him screwing up your deal.”
“I might take you up on that.” He stood up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Back to work.”
“Work? I thought this was a vacation trip?”
“There’s no such thing as a vacation for me,” he replied, meeting my gaze. “I’m always working. And if it seems like I’m not, that’s because I want it to look that way.”
I watched him stroll up the wood walkway to the pavilion, where he was immediately greeted by Alexander Dyson with two glasses of champagne.
I raised my glass to my lips, then scowled when I found only ice.
“Refill?” Rafael asked, tossing a beach towel across the back of the chair Harrison had just occupied. He extended a glass in my direction.
“My hero,” I replied, taking the vodka soda.
Rafael gazed up the beach. Lucien was a small shape, rounding the cape and then disappearing from view. “Lucien is going to be a problem. I don’t know how, but he is.”
“Your boss said something similar. I thought you were off the clock this week. Do you ever relax?”
“Sometimes. But not while I’m around Harrison.”
“You two are surprisingly similar,” I said.
Rafael glanced at me. “We are. Not many people would make that observation, though.” He gestured up the beach with his own cocktail. “Did he invite you to dinner on his yacht yet?”
“Not yet.”
“He will.”
“Why, Rafael Mercer,” I teased. “I didn’t take you for the jealous type.”
“Ha ha, very funny. You’re turning it around on me after I said you were jealous.”
“Turnabout is fair play, as they say.” I allowed myself to admire the man, especially the way his rolled-up sleeves revealed his tan skin stretched tight over powerful biceps. “Seriously, you should try to relax. I don’t think there’s going to be a knife attack here.”
“If there is,” Rafael said dryly, “hopefully it happens to Lucien on that public beach.”
I sputtered a laugh. “Damn. You don’t really mean that.”
“I mean that about five percent,” he said. “Lucien is a very consistent pain in Harrison’s ass, which means he’s a pain in my ass.”
“A pain in our collective ass,” Harrison said, reappearing with a glass of champagne in his hand. “Dyson wants to celebrate tonight. I’m having the chef prepare a special meal. You’re both invited, of course.”
“I’ll let the bodyguards know,” Rafael said, rising. “They were already prepared to work late, but it’ll be good to give them a definitive gameplan.”
“Worry about it later,” Harrison insisted. “Relax. I was serious when I told you to take this week off and enjoy the beach.”
“I am relaxing. And I’ll be even more relaxed when I know everyone’s ready for tonight.”
Harrison watched him go, then turned back to me. “You two are cute together.”
“Is that supposed to mean something?” I asked.
Harrison shrugged and rested an arm behind his head, gazing out at the water.
That’s when it hit me.
“You know, don’t you?” I asked.
He didn’t need to ask what I meant. “Of course I know. Rafael and I tell each other everything. He’s the one person in this world I can trust completely.”
I felt my throat tighten with embarrassment. “If this is a problem—”
“I don’t care what you do,” Harrison quickly said.
He closed his eyes, savoring the sun’s warmth.
“You and Rafael are adults. Do whatever you want. Rafael has actually been happy to see you lately. There’s a noticeable improvement in his mood whenever you’re around.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him like this. ”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Harrison!” a woman called from the pavilion. “Why are you hiding down there? Come tell Alexander what you told me about the soccer team! The one you’re considering buying!”
Harrison grimaced at me. “Like I said. I’m never not working.”
After he was gone, I thought about what he’d said. Was Rafael developing feelings? Or was Harrison trying to subtly torpedo our fling by putting thoughts into my head?
I’d assumed my own feelings were simple, but the more I thought about it, the more complex the situation felt.
Hooking up with Rafael was fun. Sure, it was only supposed to be a one-time thing, which turned into two times, and now a third.
But that didn’t mean any actual feelings were developing.
We kept doing it because it felt good, that’s it.
But the longer Harrison’s comment sat with me, the more it began to fester.
This biography wasn’t just another job—it was the kind of work that would affect the rest of my professional life.
It was important. It was one thing to hook up with Rafael a few times, but if it came out that I’d been having a long-term affair with Harrison’s head of security?
It would undermine everything I wrote in the book.
I had, quite literally, written articles in the Wall Street Journal about such conflicts of interest in the financial world.
I took a longer pull from my drink. It didn’t taste as good as it had a few minutes ago.
Lucien returned from his jog, stopping short when he reached my chair. “The humidity,” he said, out of breath. “It is. Very bad. Around the other. Side of the island.” He pointed back the way he’d come.
“The breeze right here makes it tolerable,” I said.
“A swim, and now a run.” Lucien grabbed Rafael’s towel from the chair and began wiping his face. “Do you have a bicycle, so I can complete my island triathlon?”
“Afraid not. Someone’s sitting there, by the way.”
“Who, Harrison? He will not mind. We are good friends, you see.” His smile was wolfish, like we had a very different definition of the word friend.
I sipped my drink and tried not to admire Lucien as he toweled off the sweat from his glistening body.
One thing I had learned in the past few years was that physical fitness was the new display of wealth.
More than a nice car or a big house, having ten percent body fat was a way of telling the world that you had enough free time to exercise.
It was true of all the douchebag finance bros that worked on Wall Street, and it was true for Lucien Moreau.
That didn’t make it easy to ignore his body, though.
When he was done drying off, Lucien stretched out on the chair. “Your work on Harrison’s biography. It has become your full-time occupation, yes?”
I gave a start. “How do you know that?”
He shrugged while sunbathing. “I am in the business of knowing things, Caroline. With so much free time, surely you are capable of working on my biography as well.”
“When I am done with Harrison’s,” I said slowly, “maybe we can talk.”
The French billionaire appeared totally relaxed, but his words were as cutting as a speech to a boardroom full of investors. “Whatever he is paying you, I will triple it. The advance, the portion of royalties, however you prefer. But only if you finish my biography before his.”
“Sorry, but my answer is no.”
“Are you trying to steal my biographer away from me?” Harrison asked, reappearing next to us.
“Of course I am!” Lucien replied simply. “But she is not easily convinced.”
“She is a woman of principles,” Harrison said.
Lucien smiled up at the sun. “This is why I am so fond of her. Would you like to have dinner with me on my yacht this evening?”
“I already have plans,” Harrison replied.
Lucien snorted and turned toward me. “I was speaking to your lovely biographer.”
I should have declined. I should have laughed in his face and told him that I wasn’t going to write a book about him. But I was frustrated about being put on sabbatical, and annoyed that Harrison wouldn’t talk about his parents, and I felt like shaking things up a little.
“I would love to,” I said.
Lucien hopped up with the spryness of a teenager. “Wonderful! I will send a boat for you later this evening.”
He clapped Harrison on the shoulder, then jogged down to the boat he’d left on the beach. By himself, he pushed it out into the water, started the motor, and sailed back to his yacht.
“You agreed to dinner awfully quickly,” Harrison said.
I rose from the chair and smiled. “I was thinking about how it will keep Lucien occupied, so he doesn’t inadvertently screw up your deal with Dyson. Besides, I have all this free time since you won’t tell me about your parents. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get ready for tonight.”
The expression on Harrison’s face was more satisfying than I could have hoped.