Chapter 45
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The Royal private island
Saturday afternoon
Rachel tightened her grip on Matthew’s hand. Her heart was racing as they stepped off the boat which had brought them over from the island of Provo, in the small British overseas territory of Turks and Caicos. She’d been to social events in Atlanta, but none compared to the sheer number of immaculately dressed staff who crowded around them now.
Six hours after leaving the chills of New York and she was standing in the sunshine of the Caribbean. On the plane, she’d changed into one of the chocolate brown linen dresses she had purchased from Saks Fifth Avenue, along with a pair of brown and cream striped Jimmy Choo wedge sandals.
Vivian had been right. The confidence that wearing these new clothes gave her was palpable. It went a long way to calming her nerves.
“Welcome. Welcome. Mister Matthew. Come here.”
Matthew’s hand slipped from Rachel’s as a large Black man with a Caribbean accent pulled him into his embrace. Her date disappeared into a hug comprised of strong arms and a billowing white linen shirt.
Rachel didn’t have time to enjoy the rest of the welcome as a grinning Bryce pressed a glass of champagne into her hands. “Don’t worry, you will be given an island welcome when you come here next time. The team tends to leave first time visitors alone, but you won’t be spared for future visits.”
Vivian came to stand by her side. “The hug is actually quite nice. Mister Alleyne is a lovely man, and he runs this island like clockwork. Anything you want or need, he and his team will arrange it.”
Matthew finally escaped his island embrace, stepping out of the way as Mister Alleyne made a beeline for Bryce. “You are next, Mister Bryce.”
“Let’s go find our room,” said Matthew, taking hold of Rachel’s free hand. Vivian waved them a fond farewell. No doubt lining up for her own island welcome hug.
The hard wood of the dockside ramps and gangways gave way to soft ivory colored sand. Above them, the palm trees swayed in the ocean breeze. The sky was perfectly blue, with not a cloud to be seen.
It looks like one of those commercials when the people win the lottery and buy their own island.
She stifled a laugh. These people really did own a spot of paradise.
As they moved further onto the island, she caught glimpses of boats bobbing up and down on the water just offshore. When she got closer, Rachel’s mouth dropped open. They weren’t just yachts, they were ocean‐cruising yachts. Amazing. She’d seen ones like them while on a holiday to Monte Carlo a few years back, and at the time had wondered what sort of people owned such incredible boats.
Wonder no more, you are about to meet some of them .
“That’s the Italian and Greek side of the Royal family. There isn’t enough room for everyone to stay on the island, so they brought their own floating hotels with them,” explained Matthew. He pointed to the nearest of the yachts. “Uncle Mariano will be on board. His part of the family owns some of the most exclusive, bespoke suit makers in all of Italy. They preserve the old ways of the cloth guilds, but they also have over one-hundred and fifty main stream fashion stores throughout the country.”
“And the Greeks?”
“Cruise ships. Big ones, small ones. Lots of them.”
The path which lay ahead meandered through the trees, finally opening up onto a large marble paved courtyard, edged with pink and white flowering plants. Rachel hadn’t ever been one for flowers or trees, so she would have to guess that they were some variety of Bougainvillea. Their fragrant flowers filled the air with a rich, heady scent.
Rachel’s gaze shifted from the greenery to the enormous white stone estate villa with towers on either side, which sat behind the courtyard. Literal towers. The house rose over four floors. Each roof and tower was topped off with black and gray peaked tiles. She might not know her flowers all too well, but she understood clever design.
Yep, it’s an island mansion. Straight out of Architectural Digest. And it’s magnificent.
She stopped and took in the view. The northern aspect; the ingenious use of the sloping roof. Somewhere, no doubt, well-hidden from view, were large tanks which collected fresh rainwater and fed it back into the house.
A veritable genius had built this island palace. Everywhere she looked, Rachel caught glimpses of inspired design.
“This place is fantastic. Promise, that you will show me the plumbing and waste systems while we are here. I’m sure they’ll have some great pointers for the upgrade in Colorado. ”
“Yeah, I was thinking the solar paneling could be worth looking at as well. The villa is entirely self-sufficient. Everything that can’t be taken off the island is broken down for compost or fed back into the system,” replied Matthew.
She turned to him. “Do you have any idea how cool it is to be able to talk sustainable design with someone who gets it?”
Matthew nodded. “Yeah, I do.”
You get me.
That unbidden thought had guilt rising fast in her mind. He got the Rachel he thought he knew, not the real one. Not the one whose father was pressuring her to ask Matthew for four-million dollars.
At the bottom of the steps leading up to the villa’s entrance, two men in white shirts and black pants stood either side of a trestle table. A woman with braided black hair, sat at the table. She was shaded from the heat of the sun by a large canvas café umbrella. As they approached, Rachel sensed a definite “don’t mess with us” vibe coming from the people waiting to greet them.
Matthew pulled up a few yards short of the welcoming committee and turned to Rachel. “Do you have your cell on you?”
She nodded. “Yes, though I turned it off on the plane.”
“Please give it to me.” He pulled his own phone out of his pants pocket.
What? Give up her phone. What if Kellie or her mom had to get in touch?
What if something blows up on TikTok or Insta and I miss it?
“You’ll get it back after the wedding tomorrow, I promise,” he explained.
She reluctantly handed it over, then after one final glance at her cell, followed Matthew to the table.
“Good afternoon, I am Mister Matthew Royal, and this is my guest Ms. Rachel Little.” He handed over the phones. The woman flipped through a box and took out a numbered bag. She placed the phones in the bag, then zipped it. “You will get your cells back after the bride and groom have departed. Do you have any other electronic recording devices with you?”
Matthew and Rachel both shook their heads.
“Good. I must also inform you that your bags will be checked before they are delivered to your room. The only items we are interested in are things such as laptops, phones, or cameras. If you are bringing in any other forms of contraband, rest assured we won’t be touching those.”
One of the men moved forward and placed a wristband firstly on Rachel wrist, then on Matthew’s. “Please keep these on until the time you leave the island. If you are found without one, you will be escorted back to the mainland.”
This is presidential‐level security.
Someone mega important had to be coming to the wedding. The security on the island was nuts. Now she understood why Matthew had been so insistent on them leaving their laptops locked up on the jet.
“We understand. I’m the groom’s brother so rest assured, there is nothing contraband in our cases,” replied Matthew.
Matthew is the groom’s brother. And if the groom isn’t Bryce. Then its … holy heck!
Rachel was still blinking hard as the well-dressed woman handed them both clip boards with documents attached. “Please take your time to read the pages as these are legally binding agreements. The bride and groom are prepared to take legal action against any guest who does not adhere to the terms and spirit of the contract.”
Rachel glanced at the papers in front of her. It was a non-disclosure agreement. She flipped through the pages, searching for any clue as to who the other party was, but all she could find was the name Royal .
But it can’t be anyone else getting married. And I’m here. OMG.
Must not pee my pants in excitement.
“What happens if I don’t sign it?” joked Matthew.
Both of the well-built local guards took a step in his direction. “There is a room at the jetty where we will take both you and your luggage. A boat will be heading back to Providenciales island later tonight and anyone who does not sign the NDA will be on board it.” While his tone was very matter-of-fact, it was framed with a clear warning.
Matthew quickly signed his contract and handed it over. Rachel followed suit. The instant the contracts were all dealt with, a complete change came over the welcoming committee. They broke into broad smiles.
“Welcome. You have been allocated room number twenty-four on the top floor of the main villa. In your room, you will find a wedding information pack. Please take a few minutes to check it. Since you are both members of the wedding party, Mrs. Alice Royal has asked that I inform you to be ready for the private family dinner at six this evening in the beachside annex,” explained the woman.
“Come on, move along. We have NDAs to sign, and cocktails to drink,” grumbled a now all too familiar voice.
Rachel glanced over her shoulder at Bryce. Vivian, who had her arm in his, simply rolled her eyes. They really did make a fun couple. It was comforting to know that everyone was being made to sign the contracts.
I feel less of an outsider.
It would be a pain not to have her cell for the next day, but Rachel quickly decided it might actually be a blessing in disguise.
I won’t have to fight the temptation to sneak a photo of the happy couple. I can’t believe I’m going to the wedding of the decade.
And as far as Kellie and Dan were concerned, Matthew had whisked Rachel away for a weekend somewhere in the sunshine. They wouldn’t be expecting her to call.
I really should do like everyone else is doing, and simply go with the flow.
Matthew caught her eye and smiled. “Let’s go check out our room and get settled.” He nodded to his brother. “We’ll see you guys at dinner.”
It was a little after three pm—her date clearly had plans for them to spend some time alone before catching up with the rest of his family. Time Rachel hoped Matthew would put to good use.
I hope he doesn’t want to spend too much time reading the welcome folio.
The inside of the master house was as gorgeous as the estate grounds. Marble flooring was complimented with a gorgeously simple cream and pale blue décor that supported an island minimalist theme. Whoever had been in charge of the interior design had allowed the natural light and the ocean breeze to star as the main characters in the story.
Ten out of ten, to both the architectural and decorating teams.
“Did you want to go and look at the main ballroom or the library? We could do a quick tour,” offered Matthew. He brushed his hand down her back and any thoughts of going to look at the rest of the house instantly fled Rachel’s mind.
She shook her head. “Maybe later. Right now I want to see our room.” Her body was craving a steamy hour or two of sexual indulgence. And if there was one thing this fabulous man excelled at, it was getting her naked and mindless. Rachel’s libido was fast rising from desire to urgent hunger.
When their gazes met, Matthew raised a knowing eyebrow.
“Message received. Let’s get to our room. I have a feeling you’re going to combust if we don’t.”