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Had he built up the union of bodies, spirits and lives to the point it’d be a big let down for them both?
    Probably. He was prone to analyze stuff to death. Nothing he could do about it now—he’d begun to regret taking such a rigid stance. He’d make it up to her. Jack rested his chin on the top of Keely’s head, losing himself in the sweet lilac scent of her hair and drifted off.
    They were both groggy when the plane finally landed.
    22
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    Slow Ride
    The heat and the confusion about transportation made them both cranky. Rather than snipe at each other, they stayed quiet, lost in their own thoughts.
    As soon as they reached the patio of the private villa, Jack pulled her into his arms and whispered,
    “We’re here. You know what that means, don’t you?” He expected she’d laugh the sultry sound that always made him hard, and drag him inside with a cheeky, Let the rolling around nekkid begin. He didn’t expect her to disentangle from his arms and step back. Way back.
    “That means we’re at the beach, Einstein.”
    Jack squinted at her. Dammit. Sarcastic, lashing out Keely stood in front of him, which meant he’d somehow hurt her feelings.
    Gee, ya think? You totally fucked yourself with your sexy wife, my friend, and not in a good way.
    He had to figure out what to do, and fast. Charming his way back into her good graces, warred with his male instinct to just fuck his way back into her good graces. Maybe a combination of both would work?
    He grinned, stepped forward and took her hand, kissing the knuckle above her wedding ring. “I know it’s been a long day. But if you can give me ten minutes—”
    Once again she retreated. “Take as long as you want. In fact, take all night. There’s no hurry, right?
    We’ve got two weeks.”
    “But I thought…”
    “What? That I would just strip right here, right now, and wait for you to take me by the hand so you could make sweet, sweet love to me on a bed of fucking rose petals? Wrong, bucko. I wouldn’t have sex with you right now if you begged me.”
    His mouth dropped open. “What the hell?”
    “In fact, I feel a headache coming on. A bad one.”
    “Keely—”
    “Or maybe I have to wash my hair.” She started humming “Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair”
    from South Pacific.
    Sometimes she was such a pain in the ass. “I swear to God if this—”
    “Or maybe I’m just too damn tired. It’ll probably take me a couple of days to catch up on my sleep, bein’s I’m jetlagged and all. Days , husband, in which you can do anything you want…with the exception of one thing.”
    Oh no, she wouldn’t.
    Oh yes, she would. With absolute glee.
    She smirked. “I hear the fishing is good this time of year.”
    Do not yell at her on your wedding day.
    Jack was trying to keep his cool, when he remembered something. He casually reached into his pants pocket, pulled out the white garter and waved it at her.

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    23

    Lorelei James
    Keely looked at it, then at him, and laughed. Laughed . She said, “Nice try,” and sauntered off toward the beach.
    There was some serious groveling in his immediate future. Now he really had to set the stage, and prove to her…what?
    Hell if he knew. But he’d gone this far; he couldn’t back down or chicken out now.
    Jack dragged the two hundred suitcases into the main living area. He barely gave the space a second glance as he booked it to the massive master bedroom to make sure his specific requests had been filled.
    Bouquets of fragrant flowers.
    Check.
    Dozens of candles.
    Check.
    Four bottles of champagne.
    Check.
    Chocolate and raspberry sauce.
    Check.
    Silken scarves.
    Check.
    Batteries.
    Check.
    He stared at the set-up until frustration set in. He was a goddamn engineer, for fuck’s sake. He sucked at this stuff. But this was the exact romantic scenario he’d envisioned and it’d been perfectly executed. So why did it look…wrong?
    Because Keely isn’t here. Why