GHOSTS OF ST. BARTS a totally addictive romance read (St. Barts Romance Books Series Book 5) (10 page)

There were a few moments of silence and then Linus addressed his companion again. “God, I envy you. I want what you have. I want to be the first thing a woman thinks about when she wakes in the morning and the last thing that puts a smile on her face when she drifts off to sleep. I thought I wanted Sunny, but . . . I don’t!”

Finally the light had dawned.

“She was right about that as well, damn her. No, I don’t want Sunny. I want what she represents. I want someone to love me the way she loves you. Even if you weren’t together, she wouldn’t love me like that.”

Sven stood stunned, paying no attention to what Linus was saying. He couldn’t believe how angry Sunny had been. She’d called him an asshole and told him to fuck off!

“What do I do?”

“I remember your mother telling me Sunny loves you so much because you let her be a child after a lifetime of obligation and duty. So, go, make her laugh. Have some fun and then make love until the dawn.”

“You don’t understand. The last time, in London, I hurt her. I can’t take that chance again.”

“Sven. For some reason — which I cannot understand — Sunny loves you and forgives you all your transgressions. Take that gift, you idiot. Take it and savour it. And when you do, think of me a little.”

Linus stared at Sven’s face, his eyes bright. “Think about how a man who could have anyone or anything in the world envies you.”

Chapter 12

Sunny wasn’t at the party or down by the beach and no one had seen her. Sven tried calling her cell but it went to voice mail. Finally, he went home and found her doing laps in the pool. She hadn’t bothered to turn on the villa lights. Her silk evening gown was draped over a lounge chair. Her purse, shoes and underwear were tossed carelessly by the pool. She was swimming in the nude, bathed in starlight.

Sven could hear the sound of a party coming from the rental villas next door. More music and laughter drifted up from the surrounding properties and the boats in the harbour. Everyone was celebrating the New Year — except him.

He stood in the moonlight watching her swim. She’d forgotten to remove her jewellery. The diamond chandelier earrings and diamond and emerald tennis bracelet glinted when she took a stroke or raised her head for a breath. She was tiring, he could tell. Soon, she would flip over onto her back for the final three laps. Then he would see her face. And then he would know what to do.

Sunny was instinctively aware of the exact second Sven had arrived at the villa. The hair on her arms suddenly stood on end, as if hit by static. Her heart skipped a beat. She didn’t even have to see him there; she knew. Somehow she always just knew.

The laps weren’t helping. She’d thought swimming would calm her down after her outburst but it hadn’t. She was still on edge. Part of her felt guilty about swearing at the two men she loved most in the world, but another part, the stubborn, independent part didn’t regret a thing. It was time they stopped treating her like a child. Especially Sven. Especially her husband. Sunny flipped over to finish up with the backstroke.

Sven watched as her body moved gracefully through the water. The bruises and bite marks had disappeared, faded with time and sunlight. There was strength there, in her long, lean muscles; in the determined look on her face. She was simply one of the strongest women — people —he’d ever known. Not just physically, but emotionally too. Things happened — tragedy, loss — and she picked herself up and got on with it. After London she’d started seeing a therapist in order to deal with her unresolved feelings about Clyde’s attack. What had he done? Stopped drinking for the most part. That was good. But he hadn’t really talked to anyone about what had happened. He hadn’t even spoken to his mother about recovering the memories of his father’s death.

Sunny was right; he was a coward.

She had finished her laps. Rather than get out of the pool, Sunny swam to the edge, hugging the concrete with her back to him, gazing out at the ocean. There were two boats down below, decorated with fairy lights, from which blared the noise of music and laughter. Here everything was silent, broken only by the lapping of the waves in the pool. Neither spoke.

What was there to say? thought Sunny feeling the sea breeze caress her face. Did she have to beg her husband to make love to her? She had no feminine wiles to try, no experience with manipulating a man. In the past, Sven had wanted her, always. There had never been any coy games, just sheer lust that had blossomed into love. Sunny sighed, her chin resting wearily on her arms draped over the side of the pool. I don’t know how to reach him and if I don’t soon, he’ll leave. The thought almost stopped her heart and she felt a cold, black ball in her chest, threatening to implode. She shivered despite the warm night air.

Sunny turned at the sound of a cannonball, swamped by the splash. She started to laugh in shocked surprise at the sight of Sven, wearing his formal tuxedo, dogpaddling over to her side. He’d never learnt to swim properly; he was scared of water after his father died in a Norwegian fjord.

She was laughing so hard she couldn’t catch her breath. Oh, it felt good to laugh, after the hurt and pain that had been clutching at her heart for weeks. By the time he reached her side, the belly laughs had subsided into giggles but there were tears mixed with the pool water on her cheeks.

“I wasn’t sure you wanted my company.”

“I always want your company.”

“I thought if I was in the water the worse you could do was drown me. There don’t appear to be any breakables around.”

“Just your face,” she responded with a grin.

“Give me your best shot. Go ahead, I deserve it.”

Her laughter ebbed away. “No. You’re not making it all about you. What happened in London was also about me. About all the things I need to deal with. You were just there at the wrong time. When you grabbed my arms you dredged up all those memories.” She could see Sven was about to protest. “Yes, you were rough and yes you bruised me and left some marks, but you have before. Not so many at once but you have. I bruise easily. I always have. They disappear after a day or two in the sun. But I’ve never felt abused or threatened by you. Never! If I had, do you honestly believe I’d stay with you? That I’d let you near our little girl? Damn it, Sven. I trust you!”

“I have trouble trusting myself.”

“Then you need to do something about that. And you need to take me off this stupid pedestal. It’s lonely. You have to stop blaming yourself for everything that goes wrong in our relationship. After all, I’m not perfect.”

Holding onto the pool edge with one hand, Sven used the other to brush the curls away from his wife’s face. He removed a dripping linen handkerchief from his pocket and carefully wiped the mascara smears from her cheeks. He was smiling now, pool water pouring from his hair onto his face and shoulders.

“I’ll say you’re not perfect. What a temper! And the language! I didn’t understand some of the words. What were they, Arabic?”

“And Korean. Our gardener in LA has been teaching me the basics.”

“And you kiss our daughter with that potty mouth.”

Sunny got the giggles. “I have a potty mouth.”

“I should spank you for using such bad language.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Eyes suddenly glimmering, she darted into the middle of the pool out of arm’s reach.

He lunged after her but she was too quick, swimming through his foundering legs before emerging at the other side.

“Stand still and prepare to be punished.”

“You have to catch me first!” Daring him with a glance before diving again. She almost got away except for her hair. He grabbed hold of her long locks as they floated past and held on until she surfaced spluttering next to him at the side of the pool.

“Not fair.”

“Haven’t you heard? All’s fair in love and war.”

Sven smiled into her eyes, bathing in their green light. Then he bent his lips to hers gently for a second, before prying them open with his tongue.

Sunny had been longing for weeks for this kiss. Sven was holding nothing back. This was what she wanted, what she’d asked for. The kiss deepened until he was drowning in her mouth, savouring every taste and texture. He inhaled her scent, exploring her lips and tongue.

His hand fell to her naked, water-clad breast. Her nipple was erect from the night air and sexual arousal. He stroked her, feeling her arch against the tux he still wore. He had to get out of his clothes! One hand clutched her to him, tweaking her nipple as he devoured her mouth, the other clawed at his wet tie and jacket, dispensing with both before he shed his shirt. They floated away and then sank unnoticed to the bottom of the pool. He was naked now from the waist up, pressing against her breasts, feeling the swollen mounds twisting against him.

Carrying her out of the water he heard moans, but he wasn’t sure which one of them was making the sound. They were moving together, in harmony again, both seeking release, both needing to be close. He paused to breathe, moving his lips down her neck and bending over to take her breast in his mouth. Sven suckled her like a hungry child; now he was holding nothing back. Did she want him? She would get him. No more games. No more false gentleness.

And no more guilt.

He felt liberated. She wasn’t pulling back from his touch. Instead of being afraid, it seemed to spur her on. He felt her anxious fingers at his belt, undoing his fly, yanking down his trousers. He slid out of his costly loafers and put his arms around her, pulling Sunny tight so they were one — groin-to-groin. The heat from her! He was amazed the water wasn’t evaporating.

Brushing aside her discarded evening dress, Sven pulled her down onto the lounge chair, laying her out, almost falling as he impatiently tugged off his socks. Both were now naked under the moonlight, oblivious to the sounds of partying floating in from the neighbours. They were unaware of anything but the feel of each other’s bodies. He fell on her, clutching and sucking, grasping and gasping. Nipping and nuzzling every bit of skin.

Her hands clutched his buttocks, kneading and stroking the sensitive skin in the cleft before positioning him between her legs. He didn’t pause, didn’t take a breath, but plunged into her his full length. She rose up to meet him.

They were together again, as they both needed, as they had both longed for. Their mouths latched together, pulses racing. They moved as a single being under the stars and the rising crescent moon. They were oblivious to everything but the delicious, slick friction of their movements, rising and falling as the waves crashed on the cliffs below until Sven felt her pause, stiffen and moan. Her shudders continued until he was powerless to resist the pull of those contracting internal muscles. With a groan, he emptied inside her.

As the blood stopped pounding in her ears, Sunny finally heard the music from the neighbours’ parties. Letting out a pent up breath, she embraced the weight of his collapsed body, her hands gentle now. He was back. Her husband. He still wanted her and she felt complete.

There was a rumble of laughter in her ear. “So all I have to do to prevent another rant like the one tonight is to ravage you?”

“Apparently so.”

“There is the little matter of your punishment.”

“You wouldn’t dare! Not now! Not after that.”

“Oh wouldn’t I?” He pulled her over on top of him and brought his open hand down on her wet bottom.

“That stung!”

“So if I ever hurt you again, you’ll tell me.”

His hand stroked her buttocks. She nuzzled against his chest, listening to the sounds of the night and feeling the breeze on her damp, warm skin.

“Shooting star!” Sven pointed out to the ocean and she followed the arc of the burning tail.

“Did you make a wish?

“Yes,” he said, pulling her back down, and she reached between them to grasp his erection. They had both made the same wish on the shooting star and it was about to come true.

* * *

“Look what I found!”

Judith plunked her shopping bag down on the coffee table. Judging by the twinkle in her daughter-in-law’s eyes and the sexual glow on her face, Sven and Sunny had reconciled. Thank God, things were back to normal.

“I was going through Mimi’s things. There were a few boxes in storage I guess they didn’t get to when they were sorting out her estate.” Judith pulled out a huge scrapbook with a card. It read ‘Welcome to the World!’ “I think this is what Mimi was going to give you when Bliss was born.”

“Just like Mimi to plan that far ahead. But how do you know it’s for Bliss?” Sunny moved Barbie out of the way to take a seat on the daybed next to her daughter.

“It’s all about you.” Judith began turning the pages. Sunny looked at photographs of her parents she’d never seen before. They were on a boat; her mother’s eyes were shining, her auburn hair glistening in the sunlight and they were laughing together. Another showed a beach barbecue. Sunny’s mother was wrestling with Mimi over something in the sand. Here was her mother cooking, and then she got younger. Finally, her mother was just a teenager standing next to a girl the same age. The twin sister? From the looks of it, they were fraternal rather than identical. Now her mother, obviously pregnant, was asleep with her head on her father’s lap. They both looked so young, happy and in love.

“Lovely.” Sunny wiped away her tears. “There weren’t many pictures of them together at home and I wanted some to show Bliss when she grew up. Now I can. How thoughtful of Mimi.”

“Keep looking.”

Turning the pages was like watching her life unfold. Sunny at about two months old in her mother’s arms, then at a birthday party, now with reddish curls instead of the dark hair of infancy. She was wearing a fancy, beribboned dress splattered with cake. “I was a messy eater even then.”

Judith turned another page. Here was Sunny in a school uniform walking hand in hand with her mom to the school down the hill, a tattered stuffed rabbit dangling from one hand.

“Monsieur Lapin! My mom and I had a fight about me taking him everywhere because he was so dirty and falling apart. I think he finally just disintegrated.”

On the next page Mimi had posted her mother’s obituary from the local papers. Sunny read the words, “Beloved wife and mother” and began to cry again. She had to get herself a glass of water.

“Mother, what’s going on? Why are you making my wife cry?”

Sven came in bearing a package of diapers and a six-pack of beer.

“No, it’s good. It’s a book Mimi made for me, for us, for Bliss. Come see.”

The three adults watched as the little girl was allowed to turn the pages very carefully. There were photos Douglas O’Hara had sent from Russia showing Sunny bundled in a snowsuit, her face reddened from the cold. Sunny and a stern-looking woman and a younger girl, were making a snowman. “Raisa and Misha! I remember that snowman. Raisa didn’t want me to use a carrot for a nose because it was wasting food.”

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