Chapter 11
Oliver took me for a tour of our seven-bedroom, nine-bath home, and each step left me more astonished than the last. Several terraces and decks extended from various rooms, and there was even one on the roof that offered a view for miles. The entire place was bright and airy, with rafter ceilings and many fans gently circulating the tropical breeze.
The kitchen was a modern marvel, full of stainless steel, granite, and travertine tile. Each of the nine bathrooms gleamed in white, with glass sinks, marble vanities, and glass-enclosed showers. The bedrooms were equally stunning, with light wood floors that shone in the sunlight and décor in soft pastel colors, perfect for the tropics.
The master bedroom was the last stop on our tour. By then, I was in awe of our home. Oliver pushed open the thick wooden door to reveal a large, airy room with high ceilings. The walls were painted powder blue, almost the same color as my bridesmaid dresses.
One wall faced the ocean and was made entirely of glass sliders that led out to a large terrace with white wicker furniture and floral cushions. My head spun with the beauty of everything, and I felt my eyes sting with tears.
"Don't cry, sweetheart," Oliver said, his voice gentle.
"I'm happy. These are happy tears," I replied, smiling through the tears.
"Wait until you see the bathroom," he said with a twinkle in his eye.
He led me to a closed door, pushing it open to reveal the same white décor as the other bathrooms, but with one exception—a massive oval marble tub large enough to seat eight.
"That's not a tub, it's a swimming pool," I exclaimed.
"I hope to share it with you. I had all your favorite bath products stocked," he said, his smile tender.
"You think of everything," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion.
He swiped at my tears with his thumbs and kissed me on the tip of my nose. When we came out of the bathroom, I took a flying leap onto the huge bed that was much larger than a regular king-size bed. It was soft and inviting. I kicked off my shoes and curled up on my side, feeling completely at home. Oliver sat down on the edge of the bed and gently stroked my hair.
Oliver's eyes softened as he gazed at me, concern etching his features. "Would you like to sleep?" he asked, his voice low and gentle.
I stifled a yawn, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling over me. "I need a nap," I admitted, rubbing my eyes. "The two hours on the plane wasn't enough."
He nodded, running a hand through his tousled hair. "I can leave you," he offered. "I have a few things to check on."
My eyes narrowed suspiciously as I turned to face him. "You aren't doing any work, are you?" I asked, a hint of accusation in my tone.
Oliver held up his hands defensively. "It's not work," he assured me. "I want to make sure everything was done to my specifications, and I need to give the staff instructions."
"For what?" I pressed, curiosity piquing despite my fatigue.
"Meals, drinks, cleaning," he listed, ticking them off on his fingers.
I sighed, exasperated. "We can figure a lot of that on our own."
Oliver's jaw tightened slightly. "They're here to work. It's what I pay them for."
"What we pay them for," I corrected pointedly.
He paused, then tilted his head. "Excuse me, Mrs. Fox. What we pay them for," he amended. "I'd also like to brief security. They'll be monitoring the property twenty-four seven."
A flicker of unease passed through me. "Are you expecting something?"
Oliver's expression remained neutral. "Not at all, but it helps to be diligent. We're wealthy, and you never know when someone would like to exploit that."
I decided to change the subject. "What plans do you have for me today?"
He feigned innocence. "I'm not sure what you mean."
I rolled my eyes. "It's my birthday. You expect me to believe you have nothing planned?"
A smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "That's my business."
"Jerk," I muttered, fighting a smile.
Oliver leaned in, pressing his lips to my cheek in a deliberately sloppy kiss before rising from the bed. "Sleep, baby," he murmured. "I'll wake you later."
I yawned, nestling deeper into the plush pillows. "I love you," I mumbled, my eyes already drifting closed.
"I love you too," he replied softly, his footsteps fading as he left the room.
The warm sunlight streamed through the terrace windows, bathing my face in its gentle glow as I succumbed to sleep. Sometime later, I stirred to the feeling of Oliver snuggling up next to me, his hand sliding under my breast as he pressed his body against mine.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Fox," I mumbled, a lazy smile spreading across my face as I leaned into his embrace.
Oliver's warm breath tickled my ear as he whispered. "I was wondering when you were going to wake. You've slept almost four hours." His fingers traced lazy circles on my hip, sending a shiver down my spine.
I blinked groggily, trying to orient myself. "What time is it?" I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.
"Almost 3:30," he replied, glancing at his watch. "You must be famished."
Realization dawned on me, and I sat up abruptly, the sheets pooling around my waist. "You're letting me sleep my birthday away?" I accused, a hint of disappointment coloring my tone.
Oliver's brow furrowed as he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "It's not intentional," he assured me. "I have things planned for tonight. I wanted you to get some sleep."
I studied his face, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes. "How can you not be tired?" I asked, genuinely curious.
A wry smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Who says I wasn't tired? I took a nap in the living room."
"Why?" I pressed, my hand finding his. "Why not here?"
"I didn't want to disturb you," he explained, his thumb caressing my knuckles. His eyes searched mine, concern evident in his gaze. "Why are you getting upset?"
I sighed, leaning into him. "Because I want you near me," I admitted softly.
Oliver's arm snaked around my waist, pulling me closer. "I want to be near you," he murmured, his lips brushing my temple, "but being near you is dangerous, don't you agree?"
I couldn't help but chuckle. "If you would behave, it wouldn't be a problem."
"So, it's my fault," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I seem to remember you starting something last night."
Heat rushed to my cheeks as memories of our passionate encounter flooded back. "We both had a hand in our lovemaking," I countered, my voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "Would you like another round?"
Oliver's breath hitched, but he regained his composure quickly. "I thought we would have a bite to eat and a late dinner on the beach," he suggested, his voice husky.
My eyes widened with delight. "Really? That sounds lovely."
"I have crab salad," he tempted, a knowing smile spreading across his face.
"Yummy," I practically purred. "I'm starving."
Oliver's expression softened with concern. "You didn't eat much yesterday, and you've had nothing today."
As if on cue, my stomach let out an embarrassingly loud growl, causing us both to burst into laughter.
"Let's head down to the kitchen," Oliver suggested, standing and offering me his hand. I took it, allowing him to pull me to my feet and into a tender embrace.
As we made our way downstairs, hand in hand, I couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement for what the rest of my birthday might hold.
I leaned back in my chair, feeling pleasantly stuffed after devouring crab salad, sipping champagne, and nibbling on grapes. The combination of flavors danced on my tongue, and I savored the lingering taste, unsure when I'd feel like eating again.
"I want to walk on the beach," I said to Oliver, my eyes drifting towards the window where I could see the sun-kissed shore beckoning.
Oliver quirked an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice. "If you didn't sleep the day away, we could've gone swimming."
I waved my hand dismissively. "We have two weeks to do that. I want to work on my tan."
A look of mischief appeared in Oliver's eyes as he leaned closer. "All in due time. I'm considering not letting you out of the bedroom."
My cheeks flushed as I remembered our passionate night. "What? There's no way. I'm already sore after last night."
Oliver's expression immediately softened, concern etching his features. "Of course, honey, we don't need to have sex tonight."
I bit my lip, feeling a familiar heat building despite my protests. "There might be no escape from it."
"Why would you say that?" he asked, his voice low and husky.
I met his gaze, my heart racing. "Because you turn me on."
A slow smile spread across Oliver's face. "Ditto, Mrs. Fox, ditto."
With a contented sigh, I stood up and put the container of crab salad back in the refrigerator. I drained the last swallow of champagne from my flute and held out my hand to Oliver. He brushed the crumbs from his sandwich into his plate and stood, intertwining his fingers with mine.
We walked out to the deck, our feet pounding down the stairs in eager anticipation. The hot sand felt divine against my bare feet as we made our way through a grove of palm trees, emerging onto the vast expanse of our private beach.
"I can't believe we have this whole place to ourselves," I marveled, taking in the breathtaking view.
Oliver squeezed my hand. "Believe it. It's all ours. No photographers, no annoying interruptions."
His words were abruptly cut off by a familiar voice calling his name. I groaned inwardly, hoping this unexpected arrival wouldn't spoil our moment. Oliver whirled around, tension visible in the set of his shoulders as he faced his brother, Jonah.
My eyes widened as I took in Jonah's appearance. He was wearing nothing but a pair of blue swim trunks, his muscular torso on full display. While impressive, he couldn't quite match the Adonis-like physique of my husband.
"What the hell are you doing out here?" Oliver demanded, his voice sharp with surprise and a hint of irritation.
Jonah's sandy hair, longer than I remembered, flopped into his eyes as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "I haven't seen you in months, and that's what you say?"
As I studied Jonah, I couldn't help but notice the similarities between the brothers. They shared the same strong jawline and confident stance, but Jonah's eyes were a lighter shade, more reminiscent of the sea than Oliver's deep sapphire gaze.
The tension in the air was palpable as the brothers faced off, leaving me to wonder how this unexpected reunion would unfold on what was supposed to be our private getaway.
Oliver's eyes flashed with barely contained fury as he growled at his brother, "You shouldn't have taken off. What the hell is wrong with you?"
Jonah crossed his arms defensively, his stance defiant. "You expected me to stay here all cooped up?"
I felt Oliver's hand tighten around mine, his jaw clenching as he struggled to maintain his composure. "I had my reasons, and you know them," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
Jonah's gaze shifted to me. "Can't I at least say hello to my new sister-in-law?"
I offered Jonah a weak smile, acutely aware of Oliver's hard stare boring into me. The tension between the brothers was getting worse, like a rubber band stretched to its limit.
Oliver's voice was cold and clipped as he conceded, "Say hello to her and get back to the employee's quarters. I want to enjoy my honeymoon without interruptions."
Jonah stepped forward, enveloping me in a soft hug. I reciprocated briefly before quickly stepping back, feeling caught between the two men.
"Can we talk sometime this week?" Jonah asked, his eyes pleading.
"If I have time," Oliver replied, his tone glacial.
Jonah's shoulders slumped slightly. "Suit yourself," he muttered, turning to sprint back up to the house, his footsteps kicking up sand in his wake.
As soon as Jonah was out of earshot, I turned to Oliver. "You didn't need to be so gruff with him," I said softly, trying to diffuse the tension.
Oliver's eyes flashed dangerously. "Ryleigh, don't tell me what to do when it comes to him. He's a fuck up."
"He's trying," I protested, feeling a need to defend Jonah.
Oliver's voice was sharp as he retorted, "If he was trying, he would've straightened himself out."
Frustrated by his stubbornness, I pried my hand from his, and walked away, my feet sinking into the warm sand. I could sense Oliver's anger simmering, and I refused to indulge his desire for an argument. I heard his footsteps behind me. Before I could react, Oliver scooped me up in his arms, sprinting toward the shoreline.
"Don't you fucking dare, Oliver Fox," I warned, my heart racing as I realized his intention.
A wicked grin spread across his face. "Dare what?" he asked innocently as he entered the surf, the cool water lapping at his legs.
"Drop me," I said, clinging to him despite my protests.
"I'm not going to drop you," he assured me, but the glint in his eye told me he had something else in mind.
Oliver continued wading into the ocean until the water was up to his waist, just below where he was holding me. I struggled halfheartedly for a few seconds, but the futility of my efforts soon became apparent. Even if I managed to escape his arms, I'd end up wet regardless.
As we stood there, suspended between the tension of the earlier confrontation and the playfulness of the moment, I found myself both exhilarated and apprehensive. Oliver's mercurial moods were as unpredictable as the ocean surrounding us, and I wondered what the rest of our honeymoon would bring.
“Should I go in further?” he asked.
“No. I don’t want to get wet.”
“To late,” Oliver said as he dipped down, taking me under the turquoise water while I was still in his arms. He let me go and I came up sputtering.
“Fucker,” I screamed, brushing my wet hair out of my eyes.
“I’ll agree with that. How about I take you on the beach and show you.”
I glanced around nervously, suddenly aware of our exposed position. "Are you out of your mind?" I hissed, my eyes darting between the distant employees and the boats dotting the horizon. "Everyone can see us."
Oliver's eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. "Would you like to go to the lagoon tonight?" he murmured, his voice low and enticing.
A shiver ran down my spine, equal parts excitement and apprehension. "Won't it be dark?" I asked, curiosity piqued.
"No," he replied cryptically, a sly smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
I narrowed my eyes, studying his face. "What are you up to, Oliver?"
He pulled me closer, his strong arms encircling my waist. "Come with me to the lagoon and find out," he challenged, his eyes glinting with promise.
Unable to resist the playful mood, I splashed him and swam away, laughing. Oliver caught me easily, pulling my body flush against his chest. "You're very playful today," he observed, his voice husky.
I relaxed into his embrace, tilting my head back to meet his gaze. "Why wouldn't I be? The man I love just became my husband, and it's my birthday. I'm on cloud nine."
Oliver's expression softened, his eyes filled with adoration. "I want you to be happy," he said softly.
"I am happy," I assured him, my heart swelling. "I'm ecstatic."
He released me gently, and I took the opportunity to swim toward shore, an idea forming in my mind. I felt bold, bolder than I had a few minutes ago with his suggestion.
"You're getting out?" Oliver called, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
I threw a coy smile over my shoulder. "No. You'll see."
As I reached the shallow water, I stood up slowly, rivulets of water cascading down my body. With deliberate movements, I peeled off my wet shirt and tossed it onto the beach, followed by my shorts. Left in nothing but my burgundy lace bra and panties, I felt a thrill of excitement course through me as I swam back to Oliver.
His eyes darkened with desire as he took in my nearly naked form. "You're practically naked," he breathed, his voice thick with want.
I pressed myself against him, reveling in the heat of his skin against mine. "I'm on my honeymoon," I purred. "I can do whatever I want."
Oliver's hands skimmed down my sides, coming to rest on my hips. "Want to have sex out here?" he suggested, only half-joking.
I pulled back slightly, reality intruding on our passionate moment. "That's going too far," I said, glancing around. "The water is clear as glass."
"Are you expecting a plane to fly over us?" Oliver teased, trying to draw me back in.
I shook my head, still hesitant. "No, I just don't want people to see us."
"That's almost impossible," he assured me, his fingers tracing patterns on my lower back.
I looked out at the boats in the distance, weighing the risk against the temptation of Oliver's touch. The thrill of potentially being caught warred with my sense of propriety, leaving me torn between desire and caution.
As I turned back to Oliver, his eyes blazing with passion, I realized that our honeymoon was already pushing me out of my comfort zone in the most exhilarating ways. Whatever he had planned for the lagoon tonight, I knew it would be an adventure I wouldn't soon forget.