Chapter 31
“I love this place. Thank you for buying it,” I said, readjusting my sunglasses as we stood on the dock, taking in the serene view.
“I’m glad I could accommodate you. I want you to be happy,” Oliver replied, his gaze softening as he looked at me.
“I am happy, you jerk,” I said, playfully nudging him.
“Jerk?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“I missed you,” I confessed, my voice filled with emotion.
“For that, I am a jerk. I agree,” he said, his tone turning serious. “But it will never happen again. Till death do us part.”
“I don’t want to think about death. We came close enough,” I said, a shiver running down my spine at the memory.
“I’ll never let anything happen to you,” Oliver vowed, pulling me into a tight embrace.
I nestled into his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Promise?”
“Promise,” he whispered, kissing the top of my head.
Oliver leaned over and kissed me. We’d been sitting on white chaise lounge for the past half hour soaking up the sun dressed in my silver bikini. The sky was cloudless, and a gentle breeze was making the dark lake ripple. I reached down and ran my hand through the sand, finding a small smooth dark rock and rolling it around my palm.
In the distance we heard jet skis and motors from boats riding the lake. The sound of an engine got closer and a man wearing an orange life vest and blue swim trunks flew by on a white and yellow jet ski. It kicked the water up and pushed waves that lapped at the shore.
“Those are annoying.”
“We can’t stop people from driving by our beach. No one owns the lake.”
“I know, but still.”
A minute later, the jet ski's engine growled as it approached again, this time at a slower speed. The man's gaze turned in our direction, his eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses. I watched him warily from behind my own shades, my muscles tensing involuntarily. After what felt like an eternity, he finally gunned the engine and sped away, leaving a white wake in his path.
I tried to relax, focusing on the warmth of the sun on my skin as I resumed sunbathing. But the peace was short-lived. Ten minutes later, the now-familiar buzz of the jet ski returned.
"Sir?" A deep voice broke through my unease.
Oliver looked up, shielding his eyes against the sun. Both Tino and Vlad stood behind us, their expressions grim.
"Is there an issue?" Oliver asked, his voice steady but laced with concern.
Tino shifted his weight, glancing out at the water. "The guy on the jet ski. I think you and Mrs. Fox should move up to the house."
Oliver's brow furrowed. "You think he's a problem?"
"We saw him earlier, before you came out here," Vlad added, his accent thickening with worry.
I sat up abruptly, sand clinging to my damp skin. "Oliver?" I couldn't mask the tremor in my voice.
My husband nodded, his jaw set. "We should go up to the house, just to be safe."
As if on cue, the jet ski's engine rumbled in the distance, growing louder. My heart began to race, blood pounding in my ears. The man was cruising slowly, almost coming to a stop as he neared the shore.
Brenda appeared at my side, gently urging me to my feet. Meanwhile, Tino strode purposefully onto the dock, his voice carrying across the water. "Can I help you, sir?"
I couldn't make out the man's response as Oliver and I hurried up the manicured lawn. By the time we stepped into the house, I was shaking uncontrollably. The blast of air conditioning hit my overheated skin, sending a shiver down my spine – or was it the situation that chilled me to the bone?
While Oliver conferred with Vlad on the patio, I frantically searched the cabinets for something strong to calm my nerves. Finding only wine, I poured a generous amount into a tumbler, my trembling hands nearly spilling the pale liquid.
I gulped it down, the crisp taste doing little to soothe my frayed nerves. As I poured a second glass, Oliver stepped inside, his face etched with concern.
"Ryleigh?" he said softly, approaching me.
I looked up, tears threatening to spill over. "It's them, isn't it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Oliver shook his head, reaching out to steady my hands. "No. Tino said it's just someone curious about the new owners. This place sat vacant for a long time."
"Are you sure?" I pressed, searching his eyes for any hint of deception.
He sighed, squeezing my fingers gently. "I think it's all right. People get nosy when someone new moves in."
"I guess," I mumbled, unconvinced.
"Take it easy," Oliver soothed. "Want to sit by the pool?"
I bit my lip. "Is it safe?"
"More than safe," he assured me. "Come on."
He held out his hand, and I slowly came around the counter. Instead of taking it, I pressed my face against his chest, seeking comfort in his familiar scent. My fingers traced the raised scar tissue – a permanent reminder of how close I'd come to losing him.
Oliver grasped my wrist, gently but firmly pulling my hand away. "Stop it," he murmured. "It's nothing like that."
"I'm worried," I confessed, my voice muffled against his skin.
He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Please don't be. Don't let this ruin our vacation."
I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax. "I'll try."
We spent the day lounging in the pool, basking in the sun and each other’s company. The cool water was a refreshing contrast to the summer heat. Every so often, Oliver would reach out, his fingers gliding over my lotion-laden arm. Each touch sent chills down my spine, igniting a familiar desire.
“Oliver?” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes, sweetheart?” His eyes met mine, a hint of curiosity in them.
“Can you take me upstairs?” I asked, my tone laced with a hint of mischief.
“Now?” He sounded surprised, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
“You sound surprised,” I teased, arching an eyebrow.
“We had sex three hours ago,” he reminded me, amusement dancing in his eyes.
“I want more,” I admitted, my gaze unwavering. “Don’t deny me.”
“Are you pregnant?” he asked, a mixture of concern and curiosity in his voice.
“I just got over my period, so I think the answer is no,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
“Right. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“We didn’t have sex for three days,” I pointed out, a mock pout on my lips.
“And that means I have to make up for lost time?” he teased, a grin spreading across his face.
“Mr. Fox, you have three months to make up for,” I said, my tone turning serious. “No time like the present.”
“Very well. You talked me into it,” he said, standing up.
“Excuse me?” I slipped off my sunglasses, looking at him incredulously. “I doubt I need to talk you into sex.”
“You’re right, you don’t,” he admitted, a chuckle escaping his lips.
Without another word, Oliver scooped me into his arms, making me squeal in surprise. He carried me to the French doors, fumbling with the handle before pushing it open, ignoring the blast of cool air that escaped. As he climbed the stairs, I wound my fingers in his thick hair, anticipation building with every step.
"Mmm, that was so good," I sighed, lying boneless next to a naked Oliver, my skin still tingling from our lovemaking.
"I aim to please. Are you pleased?" Oliver asked, a playful glint in his eyes as he turned his head to look at me.
"Very much," I replied, a contented smile spreading across my face.
"You were quite tasty today," he teased, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead.
"Just today?" I quipped, raising an eyebrow.
"Every day. I love you so much," he murmured, leaning in to kiss my shoulder.
"I hope I get pregnant soon," I confessed, my voice soft but earnest.
Oliver turned to me, his expression shifting to one of surprise. "You do?"
"Seeing Teagan made me want a baby," I admitted, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.
"Then we should get moving. Ready for round two?" he suggested, his tone turning mischievous.
"You mean round four," I countered with a laugh. "I'm exhausted. I want to take a nap."
"Then sleep, my love. I have to check some emails," he said, stroking my hair gently.
"You promised you wouldn’t work," I reminded him, a hint of disappointment creeping into my voice.
"No, I promised I wouldn’t spend all vacation working. I do have a few things that need my attention. I want to check in with Henri," he explained, his tone soothing.
I yawned. "Be my guest. I’m going to sleep."
Oliver pulled the sheet over me and kissed my cheek before slipping out of bed. He grabbed a pair of boxers and slipped them on. I opened one eye to ogle his sexy posterior before settling in for my nap.
I wasn't sure how long I slept, but when I woke, the sun was sinking in the sky, casting a golden glow through the curtains. My stomach growled, reminding me that the last thing I had eaten was a plain bagel with a smear of cream cheese.
"Oliver?" I called out but received no reply. This house was so large that if he was downstairs, he wouldn’t hear me.
It was quiet, the whine of jet skis had disappeared from the lake. I got out of bed and put on my pink robe that Oliver had laid out for me. Looking in the mirror, I realized it was too short for me to go traipsing around the house in, especially with security floating around. I pulled on a pair of terry shorts and a t-shirt without underwear. In an hour or two, we would probably be back in bed anyway.
Downstairs, I found my husband wearing his reading glasses as he skimmed the newspaper. He put down the paper when he saw me enter.
"There’s my sleeping beauty. How was your nap?" he asked, his eyes lighting up.
"Great, but I was hoping you would be next to me when I woke up," I said, walking over to him.
"I’m sorry. My call took longer than expected," he apologized, standing up to meet me.
"Problems?" I asked, a note of concern in my voice.
"No, just the opposite. Henri has located another stretch of property in Los Angeles that’s up for bid. I think I can secure it in the next week," he explained, his excitement palpable.
I frowned. "Does this mean you’ll be on the phone all the time?"
"Not at all. I’m letting Henri take the lead on this one. I’ll be available for discussion if he needs it. My focus is catering to you for the next few days," he assured me, taking my hand.
"And cater to me you did, this afternoon. I would like some more of that later," I said, pulling him closer.
"Your wish is my command," Oliver whispered, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Are you hungry?”
"Famished," I groaned, my stomach punctuating the statement with an embarrassingly loud rumble.
Oliver's eyes crinkled with amusement. "Then let's get you fed," he said, guiding me towards the kitchen with a gentle hand on the small of my back.
I leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth of his skin. "What do we have to eat?"
"Everything," he replied, sweeping his arm dramatically towards the stainless steel refrigerator. "The place is well-stocked."
As Oliver began rummaging through the fridge, a thought struck me. I glanced around the eerily quiet house. "Where is everyone?"
"They're around," he said, his voice muffled as he peered into a drawer. "They ate earlier."
I frowned, confusion creeping in. "Are they sharing the house?"
Oliver straightened, a package of prosciutto in hand. "There's an accessory apartment connected to the main house. It has an entrance in here if need be."
"So, we're alone tonight?" I asked, a mix of relief and excitement coloring my voice. "I thought they would share the house with us?"
He set the package on the counter, his eyes meeting mine. "Only if you want them to."
A slow smile spread across my face. "I don't," I purred, sauntering closer to him. "I'd prefer to scream and moan without prying ears."
Oliver's breath hitched audibly. He cupped himself through his swim trunks, exhaling sharply. "You're going to have to stop that type of talk, or you won't eat tonight."
I raised an eyebrow, challenge gleaming in my eyes. "Promises, promises."
In one fluid motion, Oliver rounded the counter. His gaze darkened as he approached, deliberately removing his glasses and folding them with exaggerated care. "Are you challenging me?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
I watched, transfixed, as he set the glasses on the counter with a soft click. "Is that supposed to intimidate me?"
"Does it?" he countered, now mere inches away.
I tilted my chin defiantly. "Not in the least. I know you too well, Mr. Fox."
Without warning, Oliver's arms encircled me. His lips crashed against mine in a searing kiss, teeth grazing my bottom lip. A shiver of desire raced down my spine.
"I need to eat before you start seducing me," I gasped when we finally broke apart.
Oliver's hands roamed lower, fingers teasing the edge of my bikini bottoms. "I can always eat you," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear.
"And what will I eat?" I managed to ask, my voice breathy.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "That is a dilemma."
I hugged him tightly, relishing the feel of his muscular back beneath my wandering hands. In that moment, surrounded by his warmth and scent, a wave of emotion washed over me. I loved my husband dearly, more than I could ever express. So much had changed in the past few weeks, reminding me never to give up hope.
"Oliver?" I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.
Rolling over, I reached out, only to find his side of the bed empty and cold. Dawn's pale fingers were just beginning to creep through the windows, but after last night's passionate activities, I wasn't ready to face the day. With a contented sigh, I burrowed deeper into the plush sheets, allowing sleep to reclaim me.
The next time I woke, it wasn't to the gentle caress of sunlight, but to a sharp crack that echoed through the air like a firecracker. My eyes flew open, heart racing as Oliver's voice, taut with tension, carried from outside.
Fear gnawed at my insides as I threw off the covers. Hands trembling, I fumbled with my silk robe, cinching it tightly around my waist before rushing to the terrace. The scene below made my blood run cold.
It was a horrifying echo of our ill-fated honeymoon. Oliver knelt on the manicured lawn, dressed only in white swim trunks that were rapidly staining crimson. Blood flowed freely from a wound in his shoulder, pooling on the grass beneath him. Nearby, Tino lay motionless, a dark red stain blossoming across his shirt.
"Mrs. Fox," an urgent whisper came from behind me. I whirled to see Brenda, her face ashen, gesturing frantically for me to move away from the door. But I couldn't tear my eyes away from the nightmarish tableau unfolding below.
Antonio Caruso himself stood over my husband; his gun trained on Oliver's head. The sight of him sent ice through my veins.
"Fucking Fox," Antonio snarled, his voice dripping with venom. "You thought you were safe. Where is she?"
Oliver's response was defiant, despite the pain etched on his face. "Go fuck yourself," he choked out.
Antonio's eyes flashed with murderous rage. "Because of her, Raphael is dead. She has to pay, and I'm not afraid to do it with your life, then hers."
A low moan from Tino momentarily distracted Antonio. As he glanced towards the wounded man, everything happened in a blur of motion. A shot rang out, and Antonio staggered, clutching his stomach where Vlad's bullet had found its mark. In that split second, Oliver lunged forward with a primal roar, tackling Antonio into the pool.
The water muffled their struggle but couldn't disguise the sickening sound of another gunshot. A scream tore from my throat as crimson bloomed in the crystal-blue water.
Brenda's strong arms yanked me back inside, shielding me as sobs wracked my body. My legs gave out, and I crumpled to the floor, my mind reeling with the possibility that I might have just witnessed my husband's last moments.
Brenda covered my body as tears streamed down my face. The peaceful morning had shattered into a waking nightmare, and all I could do was pray that Oliver would emerge from those blood-stained waters alive.