Chapter 16 It’s Tradition
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It’s Tradition
HENRY
“You didn’t tell me that our celebrant was River Riley!” Irina hissed, clutching tighter at my hand as we followed River through the ramshackle remains of Staghorn Cove Resort. I wrinkled my nose at the green sludge in the bottom of what had once been the swimming pool.
“I didn’t realise that was important information,” I muttered before calling out, “This is quite dire, River!”
River turned, a sheepish grin on his face.
“You need to see past what’s here. All of this will be removed.
All these concrete buildings …” He gestured to what had once been a seven-storey accommodation.
“They’ll go. We’ll bring the forest right back down to the beach, and the dwellings and facilities will sit harmoniously within nature rather than imposing themselves on it. ”
I chanced a glance down at Irina. She was staring avidly around her. Her fingers, wrapped around mine, were warm and soft, and it didn’t feel all that hard to pretend with her. Maybe that’s what she’d meant, back on the plane.
“I think it sounds brilliant,” she whispered, eyes sparkling.
“We’re almost to the beach.” River turned, walking backwards and grinning at us. “I thought that might be the best place for the nuptials. Are you two ready to tie the knot?”
Irina’s hand tightened in mine, nudging me with her shoulder. “I’ve been ready to lock this one down from the first time I’d set eyes on him!”
Behind us, Lucian grunted. I chose to ignore him—drawing attention to his scepticism seemed counterintuitive.
Instead, I pasted a smile that I hoped didn’t look wooden on my face and released Irina’s hand, wrapping my arm around her shoulders.
Her hair, loose in the sea breeze, tickled my arm, sending a shiver of goosebumps along my skin.
On a mad whim, I pressed my lips to the top of her head.
She sucked in a tiny breath, the sound shooting a spark through my chest.
“You two are adorable!” River crowed, grinning at us. “And here we are.” Behind him the beach spread out, white and pristine, with crystalline water that stretched on right to the horizon, marred only with the shadowy dots of other Whitsunday islands.
“This is … I never dreamed I’d get married somewhere as beautiful as this,” Irina breathed, and when I chanced a glance down, her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. As I watched, one escaped, trickling down her cheek.
I reached out, brushing it away with my thumb, wondering about her ability to conjure up such strong emotions.
“This beach has nothing on you.” It was true. Her caramel hair shimmered in the sunshine, and the breeze ruffled her pretty dress, and her eyes, bluer than the ocean, shone up at me. All of her glowed.
Her laugh was small and a little watery as she took both my hands in hers. “Are you sure you want to do this for me?” she whispered. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”
I squeezed her hands reassuringly. “I’m sure.”
“You may now kiss your bride.”
The words reverberated in my ears as I tilted my head down towards Irina.
There were more tears shimmering in her eyes, but her smile was wide.
My hands found her cheeks, and I leaned closer.
Her mouth looked so soft, but at the last second, I tilted her head just slightly, pressing my lips to the corner of her mouth.
Her skin was like silk, and she smelt like summertime—of tropical fruit and vanilla ice-cream. I pulled away, heart thundering, while River cheered, Liv snapped photos on her phone and Lucian no doubt frowned somewhere in the background.
But I found that I couldn’t stop staring at her. At the tiny hint of pink in her cheeks. At the way her hands came up to cover mine where they still held her face.
“We did it,” she breathed.
“We did it,” I agreed, not wanting to ruin the moment by acknowledging that the ceremony itself was the least problematic factor in this deception we were undertaking.
“And you got me a ring. I wasn’t expecting that.”
My mouth tugged up at the corners. “It’s tradition.”
Her smile turned cheeky. “While we’re on the subject of tradition, want to see my something blue?” She released my hand, and tugged the strap of her dress aside, revealing the pale blue lace of her bra and the peek of creamy skin beneath.
I almost swallowed my tongue. Her laughter tinkled as she righted her clothing once more.
“I think flustered Henry is my favourite,” she confided with a pat on my cheek.
I was grateful to Liv for interrupting the moment to hand us both a plastic flute of champagne before she could tease me about my blush again.
Lucian, looking dour, approached, holding a clipboard with the all-important wedding documents for us to sign. I’d already dated them a month earlier, which would put us mere days before her visa had expired.
“So … what do we think about Staghorn Island?” River asked, taking the pen from Lucian and scrawling his signature. “It’s got sentimental value now, wouldn’t you say?”
Lucian snorted. I flashed a warning glare in his direction, taking the pen from River before turning to Irina. “What do you think … sweetheart?” I barely suppressed a wince at how unnatural the pet name felt on my tongue.
“Sorry … what were we talking about? I was too busy being dazzled by my ring!” She wiggled her left hand under my nose. The diamonds and sapphires glinted in the bright sunlight. I’d spent three hours in Tiffany agonising over which band she might like.
“I thought the sapphires matched your eyes,” I explained, my cheeks warming. “If it’s too fussy for you, we can—”
“Are you actually insane?” she teased, smacking me on the arm. “It’s perfect!”
I fiddled with my own ring—a plain platinum band—spinning it on my finger. The action calmed me, and I took my turn signing the papers before handing the pen to Irina and turning to River.
“Regarding the island. I’m still undecided. I can see the potential, and your vision is commendable, but there are a lot of factors—financial and environmental—to account for. I understand there is a time crunch with the current owner, so …”
River’s face paled. “I can send you all the projections. I’ve personally done an ecological survey of the existing resort site, and I would want to extend that to the entire island, should we—you—decide to go ahead.
I’ve factored in environmental mitigation to the demolition, and I …
just please don’t write this off until you’ve looked over all my figures. ”
I nodded. “I was going to say, if you can get me figures as quickly as possible, I’ll review and make a decision.”
River visibly relaxed. “You’re a good man, Henry Baxter.” He reached out and shook my hand.
“He’s a great man,” Irina added, twining her fingers with mine.
She’s very good at pretending, I thought, even as I tightened my hold on her hand.
“Is that all you brought with you?” I asked, staring dubiously at the small overnight bag Lucian unloaded from the back of the car.
I stifled a yawn, but weariness had taken hold.
I peered out over the marina, relief flooding me that we’d managed to get to Queensland and back in a day, and I could sleep in my own bed tonight.
“How much did you expect me to bring for one night?” she asked, her own words slurred and sleepy.
“One night? You’re moving in.”
Her eyes snapped wide. “Moving in … as in …”
“As in, moving onto the yacht with me, yes. Married people tend to live together, Irina.”
She rubbed at her forehead. “I hadn’t really … can we talk about this in the morning? I’m absolutely beat.”
Headlights flashed on further up the street, and a car manoeuvred its way down the hill. Irina tensed, but Lucian was already in action, scanning the key card to open the marina gate, hustling Irina and me inside as a man leapt out of the passenger door.
“It’s those vultures from TechRaker again,” he growled. “Keep your heads down and get to the yacht as fast as you can. I’ll run interference.”
I didn’t waste time acknowledging his words; I grabbed Irina by the arm and strode purposefully down the jetty towards the Girl on Fire.
“What’s tech breaker?” Irina asked, her voice tense. Behind us, Lucian’s voice boomed out, “Get the fuck out of here, this is private property!”
“TechRaker. It’s an online technology magazine … that seems to have taken gossip-blog levels of interest in me of late.”
“You’re getting hounded by computer geek paparazzi?”
I chuckled mirthlessly. “Something like that. Just don’t let them see your face. They’ve already published photos of us together.”
Irina let out a shocked gust of breath. “They have? Henry, that’s not ideal.”
“I know. But it might help our little charade. We can talk about it tomorrow.”
We reached the Girl on Fire, and I hustled Irina up the gang plank. Captain Gillies ushered her straight to the stairs. I turned, peering into the night. The commotion at the gate had stopped—Lucian had managed to send them on their way. He was striding stiffly down the jetty.
“They’ve been lurking up the top of the street all day,” Captain Gillies murmured by my side. “It’s almost like someone tipped them off that you’d be bringing her back here today.”
I frowned. “Given they seem to hang around here more days than they don’t, it’s probably just a coincidence.” But it niggled in the back of my mind as I descended into the living room.
A plaintive yowl erupted from my bedroom. A sound that only a certain large, bedraggled ginger cat could make. I headed in that direction, finding Irina on my bed, Abernathy accosting her on his hind legs in her lap, nuzzling his fluffy face under her chin.
“I think he missed me,” she said wryly, scratching him on the head.
“You’re his catnip.” I smirked sleepily. The nickname suited her. She had a presence about her that was a natural attractant to others.