Epilogue
Three months later
Harper stood on the deck of their perfect hut above the turquoise-blue waters of the South Pacific Ocean.
Green mountains surrounded the bay of their hotel, a lush backdrop for the vacation they had started the previous evening.
The sun was slowly rousing itself from sleep, and not a single soul could be seen anywhere around the resort.
For the first time in four years, she’d traveled as Taylor Kennedy.
It felt strange to be called Taylor. The name belonged to a person and a life that was no longer hers.
She was going to legally change her name to Harper.
Harper Andrews, to be precise, when Trent made good on his promise to make her his wife.
She looked down at the spectacular engagement ring that Trent had put on her finger yesterday just before they’d left their apartment for their flight.
The beautiful round stone was surrounded by twelve smaller diamonds that threw off rainbow-colored stars when it caught the sun.
He’d designed the ring just for her, the twelve stones matching the XII on his arm.
Rolling her shoulders back, Harper gave silent thanks that no permanent damage had been done.
The wound in her shoulder had long since healed, and the scar was small.
Harper had embraced the whole experience as one giant closure on the last four years.
Nathan was back in prison awaiting his new trial date, his bail request denied.
This time she would have the courage to face him unflinchingly in court, her new husband by her side.
Husband. Just the word made her smile. When they got back, she’d have a wedding to plan.
And an engagement party to attend. Both Drea and Cujo had wanted to organize the party for them—and had even agreed to work together to make it happen.
What Harper wouldn’t give to be a fly on that wall.
She gave it five minutes before they started to kill each other.
Their idyllic, ten-day vacation was the perfect respite in the middle of Trent’s filming schedule storm.
The producers were really excited about the reception the show was receiving from test audiences.
He had completed filming in four cities across the Midwestern and Northeastern states.
He’d even had dinner with her parents when they’d recorded in Chicago, sending her a photo of him, Dred, and her mom, outside her favorite pizzeria.
Hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. “Morning, darlin’,” came Trent’s voice, gravelly and deep from sleep as he rubbed his nose behind her ear before kissing the side of her neck.
“Hey.” She smiled as he nipped her softly.
“What’s got you out of bed so early? I didn’t fly halfway around the world in a metal bucket to wake up alone in paradise.” He reached for her hair and tugged it gently to the side, causing her to shiver.
“It’s so beautiful and quiet. I didn’t want to miss a minute.”
They stood together, his arms around her middle, her arms over the top of his, as they watched the ripples sparkle in the water as far as the eye could see.
“I have a really good idea,” Trent whispered huskily. His hands went to the front of the short, black silk robe she had thrown on and started to untie the sash holding it together.
“Mmm,” she murmured as he pulled the two lengths of silk apart. “And what would your great idea be?”
Trent slid his hands inside the robe and pulled her back tightly against him. Harper laughed in appreciation as she felt his erection press against her lower back.
Sliding his hands up to cup her breasts, he stopped. “What are you wearing, Harper?” Now he sounded awake. Harper grinned.
He turned her around and pushed the robe off her shoulders.
His jaw slackened and his eyes darkened as he took in the tiny black-and-white polka-dot bikini.
“Jesus Christ, woman.” His eyes dropped down and back up.
Bending forward, he picked her up in a fireman’s lift and dropped her over his shoulder.
“You have great taste,” Harper giggled as he carried her back to their bed.