Chapter 29
Caroline
I was furious with myself as I retired to my hut on the island.
I rarely allowed myself to be vulnerable, both professionally and personally. Vulnerable women did not get ahead in life. Living in New York City had taught me that. You had to put up walls to protect yourself, letting precious few people—especially men—inside.
Yet I had dropped my guard around Lucien. Impulsively trying to kiss him.
And he denied me.
God, I felt so stupid. This wasn’t like me.
Going on his yacht to make Harrison jealous.
That was the main reason I did it, regardless of what I told myself about keeping Lucien occupied until the Dyson deal was completed.
I was punishing Harrison for not giving me the information about his parents that I wanted for the biography.
As I laid in bed, unable to fall asleep, I reflected on everything that had happened in the past few weeks.
Then the past few years. I’d spent my life putting my career first, allowing relationships to wither and die while I chased the next big financial story.
I was good at that. It’s the reason I had climbed so far at The Journal so fast, earning a reputation as a shrewd journalist who didn’t pull her punches.
But now that I was on sabbatical from that job, my life felt hollow. Like something was missing. And without my job to ground me, I was trying to fill that void in other ways.
It was late, but I pulled out my phone and texted the one person who might understand how I felt.
Me: Hey
Rafael: Hey. Is everything okay? It’s late.
Me: I know. I’m kind of surprised you’re up.
Rafael: I wasn’t. Your text woke me.
Me: Shit. Sorry. You don’t put Do Not Disturb on at night?
Rafael: I do, but I have your number exempted.
Me: Do you exempt all your booty-calls like that?
Rafael: Is that what this is? A booty-call?
Me: No. One hookup per day is enough. I just can’t sleep. But I’ll leave you alone. Go back to bed.
I expected that to be the end of the conversation, but he replied a minute later.
Rafael: Harrison asked me to make myself available in case you ever need anything, day or night. That’s why I exempted you.
Me: Does he do that for all his biographers?
Rafael: You’re the only biographer he’s ever had. So I guess the answer is yes. How’d your date with Lucien go?
Me: It wasn’t a date. I was distracting Lucien so he didn’t inadvertently fuck up the Dyson deal.
Rafael: Sure.
Me: What do you mean, sure?
Rafael: If you want to stick to that excuse, I won’t push you.
Me: Fine. Honestly? I’m annoyed Harrison won’t tell me about his parents. So I agreed to have dinner with Lucien to make him jealous.
Rafael: That won’t work.
Me: Why not?
Rafael: Harrison doesn’t respond well to that kind of thing. You’ll only push him away. Also, he doesn’t talk to ANYONE about his parents.
Me: Not even you?
Rafael: I knew him when we were teenagers, so I know most of the story. But he doesn’t like talking about it to me, either. You should give up.
Me: You know, there’s a saying in journalism. When someone tells you to give up, it means you’re on the right track to a good story.
Rafael: You still haven’t told me how your date went with Lucien.
Me: Not a date. And it was actually really nice. He flew this famous chef down to make us sushi.
Rafael: Masaki Saito? That’s how you know it’s a date. He does that to every woman he’s trying to sleep with.
Me: Trust me: he’s not trying to sleep with me.
Rafael: Why do you say that?
Me: The only thing he tried to seduce me with was a book deal. He wants me to ditch Harrison’s biography to write his.
Rafael: He’s a chaos agent. He likes disruption. You shouldn’t trust him.
Me: Don’t worry. I don’t.
Me: Sorry again for waking you. Meet you on the beach for mimosas tomorrow?
Rafael: I don’t drink before noon, but I’ll keep you company. Sweet dreams, Caroline.
Despite what he’d said, Rafael was waiting on the beach the next morning with two mimosas.
I smiled at him and stretched out on the chair, savoring the sound of the waves while reading this morning’s edition of the Wall Street Journal on my phone.
It was hard to focus with Lucien’s yacht sitting out on the water, a permanent fixture in my field of view.
I still couldn’t believe he’d declined my kiss. Lucien was famously a womanizer. I wasn’t sure what I intended the kiss to lead towards, but I felt immensely insecure about the way he pushed me away.
Having Rafael’s shirtless form stretched out on the chair next to me helped my self-esteem.
While eating lunch at the pavilion bar, Harrison came over to us with a sour look on his face. “Did the deal not go through?” Rafael immediately asked.
“No, it went through just fine,” Harrison replied, running a hand through his hair. “But Lucien has invited us onto his yacht for a party this afternoon.”
Rafael and I exchanged a look.
“Why is that bad news?” I asked. “If you don’t want to go, just decline.”
“That’s exactly what I would do. Except Lucien has invited all of my guests. And after talking to a few people, it’s clear they all intend to go.”
“Aww,” I teased. “Your business partner is stealing your thunder.”
“This happened to me when I was eight,” Rafael said. “Timothy Lee threw a birthday party on the same day as mine. Nobody came.”
“And you were never the same,” Harrison said. “It’s fine. We can let Lucien have his fun. If we don’t go, then he’ll know he’s getting under my skin.” He nodded at me. “I want to arrive fashionably late. We’ll leave around four.”
I glanced out at the yacht. Last night’s almost-kiss still stung.
“I think I’m going to stay here. Relax on the beach, catch up on my reading.”
I was careful not to glance over at Rafael. Part of me was hoping he would stay behind too, giving us some private time together.
“Do what you want,” Harrison said. “But Alexander Dyson is going to the party. My Intel coup is going to become public in the next three hours. Dyson’s not used to being bested like this.
He might actually punch me. I’ll need you there just in case, Rafa.
He won’t respect my other bodyguards, but he’ll think twice if you’re there. ”
Damn. So much for having some private fun with the head of security.
“Well,” I said, “I can’t miss that excitement.”
Rather than take a boat over to the yacht, a helicopter ferried guests from the island all afternoon.
We were some of the last ones to go, waiting until the party on the yacht was already in full-swing.
I gazed out the window at the clear Caribbean water.
From up here I could see tortoises, rays, and schools of swirling fish.
Idly, I wondered if I could find some snorkel gear somewhere in my hut.
The yacht was thumping with music as we exited the helicopter. A cluster of guests were lounging by the pool, with others soaking in a hot tub. But most of the guests were on the top deck, dancing to music with tropical drinks in hand.
“You came!” Lucien said, spreading his arms wide when he saw us. “I feared you would be too busy with this microchip deal, Harrison.”
“The deal’s all completed. Now we celebrate,” he replied.
“I will open a bottle of wine. Something befitting the occasion.” He hugged Harrison, then said in a quieter voice, “If the rumors are true, you have made another purchase under the table. One which will soon become public, no?”
Harrison grinned. “I don’t know what rumors you’re referring to. But it’s true that a larger piece of news will likely break in the next hour.”
Lucien glanced over his shoulder at Dyson, who was sitting by the pool. The French billionaire’s eyes sparkled with mischief when he turned back to his partner. “I shall look forward to it. Perhaps I am not the only chaos agent on this boat today.”
“Perhaps not.”
Lucien laughed heartily, then turned and took my hand. “Caroline. You are looking even more beautiful than the last time we met.”
He kissed the back of my hand, reminding me of my embarrassment from last night. “Lucien. Sharp as always.”
“Please. Make yourselves at home. Truly, this floating mansion is yours today. Be welcome!”
Harrison immediately began making the rounds among the other guests.
Rafael excused himself to the bar, and I grabbed a frozen daiquiri from a passing tray and found a railing to lean against and watch the show.
Harrison was truly a sight to behold, shaking hands and kissing cheeks.
He had the air of a host, even though we were on Lucien’s yacht.
I caught the French man watching him with an empty smile.
The games these billionaires played with each other was hilarious to someone like me.
It was all maneuvering, pretending to be relaxing with drinks while they were actually doing their best to exert their influence on the other men and women gathered here.
Harrison was right. He was never not working.
The daiquiri was delicious, so I had a second.
Then a third. By the time that one was empty, I was out on the dance floor with two dozen other people, enjoying the sun on my face and the breeze in my hair.
It felt good to let myself get loose. The more I swayed my hips, the more my frustrations disappeared.
Eventually, I found myself with Rafael. Nothing scandalous—just some friendly dancing, and light touches. There was an incredible amount of chemistry between us, but to anyone watching it would seem like there was nothing unprofessional. Just two people enjoying the music.
I was about to whisper something suggestive to Rafael when his eyes widened. “Uh oh. Showtime.”
He swiftly moved past me, and I turned to watch. Alexander Dyson was on the other end of the deck, shouting something over the music. Harrison, who was standing by the railing, glanced over at me and winked before turning toward the other man.
“What’s that, Alexander?” he asked innocently.
I tried to appear as discreet as possible while getting closer to the action.
“Mother fucker!” Dyson hissed, jabbing an accusatory finger at Harrison. “I’m going to throw you to the sharks, you sleazy—”
Rafael was there in a blink, blocking his way. Dyson glared at him, and looked like he wanted to fight Rafael, but then thought better of it.
“You conned me!” he shouted at Harrison. The other guests had all turned to watch.
Lucien appeared by my side, leaning in to whisper, “This is a good spot to enjoy the show.”
“I conned you?” Harrison asked, a puzzled expression on his face. “You were the one who approached me about my commodity futures. You offered me your Intel shares.”
“Shares I never would have offered if I’d known you were making a separate deal behind my back! You now control the entire board!”
“Which is why I agreed to your generous offer.” Harrison cocked his head. “Did you not do your due diligence before offering them to me? I assumed you had. You’re a smart investor.”
For whatever reason, this threw Dyson into a fury. “Cocksucker!” he shrieked, trying to push past Rafael. The head of security was half his size, but all muscle, and easily kept the rival billionaire at bay.
“You’re fine right there,” Rafael said.
Dyson’s face was as red as a cherry. “I’ll ruin you for this. I have friends. I’ll make sure none of them ever do business with you again.”
Harrison gazed around at the crowd with a carefully-crafted expression of confusion. The other guests laughed.
“I think this has gone far enough,” Lucien whispered to me. He stepped forward. “Alexander. Please. You are embarrassing yourself and ruining my party.”
Dyson looked back and forth between Lucien and Harrison. “You two orchestrated this. I know it.”
Lucien’s laugh was only partially mocking. “How am I to blame for your blunder? Was my party too enjoyable?”
Alexander gazed around, as if he were searching for a new target of his fury. Eventually he said, “You will pay for this,” then stormed toward the helicopter, shouting orders at the pilot.
Lucien clapped his hands together. “That was quite the interruption!” he said loudly. “Let us not speak any more of business. We are here to have a good time, yes?”
The other guests gave a small cheer, then returned to their enjoyment. Lucien leaned against the railing next to me and said, “Your boss has created quite the stir.”
“He’s not my boss,” I reiterated.
Harrison came over to us, with Rafael shadowing him as if he expected to be attacked by another guest at any moment. “That went about as well as I expected. Sorry for creating a scene.”
“Do not apologize for providing entertainment,” Lucien replied. “Congratulations. It is refreshing to see Alexander Dyson make a fool of himself in front of so many influential people.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Harrison said, clapping Lucien on the shoulder. “I think I enjoyed that more than my newfound stake in Intel.”
“And I appreciate the reminder never to cross you,” Lucien said.
The French host went back to mingling with the guests, while Harrison and Rafael went over to the pool to relax. I got another daiquiri, then found a nice spot to watch the helicopter take Dyson back to the island before returning.
The four drinks finally made their way through my system. But when I got up and went to the bathroom on the deck below, I found a line of people waiting.
“Any chance I can cut in line?” I asked. “I think I’m about to pop.”
The man at the head of the line turned and said something to me in French. I wasn’t sure what he said, but he didn’t relinquish his spot.
Grumbling to myself, I went searching for another bathroom. This deck held the kitchen and a formal dining room. I took the stairs down to the next level and began opening doors. An office. A bedroom.
Finally, I found a bathroom. After doing my business, I admired myself in the mirror. My bathing suit and cover-up were conservative compared to many of the other female guests on board, but I looked good. I gave my hair a few playful tosses, then exited the bathroom.
At the base of the stairs, I froze. There was motion in the bedroom to the right.
I shouldn’t have peeked, but I couldn’t help it.
Lucien was standing there with his back turned, stripping off his clothes.
The muscles in his back flexed as he bent over, sliding his shorts off.
His ass was perfectly muscular, smooth and tan.
He grabbed a pair of swim trunks and stepped into them.
I was mesmerized as he slipped a linen shirt on, then buttoned up the front.
Suddenly, he whipped his head around.
His gaze crashed into mine.