Secrets Of The A-List Box Set, Volume 3

Beside him stood a silver bucket with a bottle of Dom Pérignon chilling on ice. On the low, wide table, next to twin crystal champagne glasses, a platter of appetizing hors d’oeuvres prepared by their personal chef was ready to be devoured.

She quickly smoothed her features, suppressing thoughts of Jarrod and the toe-curling orgasms he’d given her the night before the wedding. “Am I?” she asked absently, weaving her legs in the water to cool her rising temperature.

“Yes. Should I be worried?” he asked with eyebrows raised.

She forced a laugh. “Of course not, silly. I... I was just think about my dad,” she lied blithely.

Thom sat up, tossed his gold-rimmed Ray-Bans onto the table and stared at her with worried eyes. “You haven’t heard anything, have you? Has he taken a turn for the worse?” he asked.

“No. At least I hope not. I’m taking no news to be good news.” She attempted to smile, a little regretful she’d spoiled the lovely atmosphere with lies and thoughts of her married lover. “I wish he could’ve been at the wedding, though.”

Thom rose and approached where she was clinging to the side of the pool. In his turquoise swimming shorts and the darker coffee tan he’d achieved in the few days they’d been in Bali, her husband’s sleek, athletic figure was eye-catching enough to capture and hold her attention. He had a six-pack most men would envy, he moved with an inherent grace and his face and soulful brown eyes were movie-star gorgeous.

He was a catch. She couldn’t deny that.

When he folded his tall length down beside her and dangled his legs in the pool, she looked up into his face, wishing he evoked the same thrill in her that Jarrod did.

She smashed the thought away as Thom reached out and gently cradled her cheek. “I wish your dad had been there, too. But I’m sure he’s being well taken care of. Try not to worry too much, okay?”

Sudden tears clogged her throat, his unfettered concern touching her. She wasn’t sure why she felt so emotional lately. Again that pang of guilt pierced her. She quickly blinked the tears away, blaming it on the final release of all the pre-and post-wedding jitters. She should be enjoying her honeymoon, not second-guessing the choices she’d made.

Thom cared for her. She wasn’t sure what she felt for him was love—maybe just deep friendship—but she truly believed they could make this work.

The smile she managed to summon felt natural, and she breathed an inward sigh of relief as she laid her hand over his and basked in his affectionate smile. “Okay, I’ll think only positive thoughts.”

“Good.” His hand traced her jaw then caressed down her neck to her shoulder. “Are you coming out to grab a bite to eat? The steak tostada bites are amazing, and you’ll love the cucumber and shrimp bruschetta.”

“Ah, so many carbs, so little time.”

“We have another few days. You can work it in,” he replied with a grin.

“I’m sure I can. But I need to work off some calories first.” Her wicked smile was all the warning she gave him before she grabbed his hand and yanked him into the pool.

He paid her back by diving deeper into the water, then grabbing her legs to drag her down to join him. They were both spluttering and laughing when they resurfaced.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world right then to link her arms behind his neck when Thom pulled her close and nuzzled her cheek. “Need to work off some calories, huh? What do you have in mind for that?”

Elana leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “I don’t know, Thom. I could continue swimming.”

“Or I could go for something even more stimulating,” she said.

“I might have a suggestion.”

“Do you? Fine. Surprise me,” she challenged.

When he hesitated for a moment, then reached behind her to free the ties to her white bikini top, Elana wished her heart would race as fast as it did when another set of hands touched her.

When Thom settled his mouth over hers and pressed his tongue into her mouth, she guiltily wished for a deeper, more carnal version of the kiss.

When he carried her naked out of the pool, laid her down on the double-wide cabana bed and positioned himself between her thighs, she closed her eyes and tried to steep herself in the moment.

And when her husband called her beautiful and slid deep inside her, Elana called herself ten kinds of fool for wishing for more pleasure, for wishing that her bliss didn’t feel so far out of reach.

Sex wasn’t everything. And hell, more often than not, it was overrated.

The inner voice that mocked her assertion was ruthlessly ignored as she redoubled her efforts to enjoy her husband’s lovemaking. She must have succeeded, because very soon Thom was moaning his release, peppering her face with kisses as their breaths resettled. And minutes later, he was dozing, sated, beside her.

She listened to his light snores as she stroked his smooth chest. And as drowsiness and the call of exotic birds drew her into sleep, she reiterated to herself that she would make her marriage work.

Somehow.

* * *

Thom padded barefoot over the dark polished teak floor of the main hallway in search of the snack for his wife.

His wife.

He was beginning to get used to the term, maybe even getting comfortable with it. Any wish he harbored that the term was a different one now was suppressed beneath the acceptance that this was his life now.

From here on out, he would choose to count his blessings. For one thing, their honeymoon had gotten off to a great start. There was a naturalness between him and Elana that hadn’t been there before. For another, his secret was even safer now he was married. He didn’t doubt that leaving Santa Barbara and Gabe’s menacing threats behind had a lot to do with his calmer state of mind.

Or it could be the fantastic couple’s massage he and Elana had shared before lunch three hours ago, during which they’d had a lighthearted debate about their favorite moments on The Big Bang Theory.

He smiled to himself as he entered the immaculate chef’s kitchen.

“Mr. Scott, you didn’t have to come out. I was just about to bring this in to you,” the chef said, sliding two large bowls of popcorn onto a tray.

Thom waved him away. “It’s fine. I needed to stretch my legs. And my wife isn’t exactly known for her patience.”

He watched the chef sprinkle cinnamon on one bowl and extra butter on the other before he took the tray and made his way back across the sunken living room and through a series of hallways back to the screening room.

Second only to the pool, the villa’s sumptuous red-leathered upholstered private cinema had become their favorite place. And they’d been making vigorous use of it so far. Elana was sprawled on a lounger large enough to hold six people, her hair spread out on the cushion tucked beneath her head. She was scrolling through her phone, but she set it aside and smiled at him as he handed her the cinnamon popcorn.

She planted the bowl on her stomach and shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Oh, yum. So good,” she groaned. “I don’t know what they put in this stuff, but I’m taking a suitcase of it back home with us.”

Thom smiled and took his place beside her. “Happy?” he couldn’t help but ask. Perhaps he was seeking reassurance of his ability to be a good husband to her. Perhaps he was seeking to solidify a foundation that would hold against external pressures once they returned home.

He’d discovered for himself just how powerful and ruthless some of the Marshalls could be. He needed to shore up his defenses. If ensuring Elana was happy was one way, then that was what he would do.

She rolled her eyes and took another mouthful of popcorn. “Ecstatic. Thank you, husband,” she mumbled with a grin.

His smile widened as he picked up the remote and hit Play. “You’re very welcome, wife.”

Yes, the path of his life was truly set. And hopefully, now that he was married, the Fixer would leave him the hell alone.

* * *

“If you’re ready, madam, just close your eyes. Breathe in through your nose. Out through your mouth. That’s it. Now, slowly repeat the process until you feel each inhale and exhale flow right through your body. Out through your fingertips and the soles of your feet, making you as light, light, light as the very air itself...”