A Tangled Web

by A. Claire Everward

  Overwhelmed by her own reaction, her own emotions, and at a loss as to what she should do, she took her laptop from where it was still sitting on the sofa and placed it on the table, then brought up the news broadcast from San Francisco, from the day Brett had been arrested. With some difficulty, Ian turned his gaze from her to what she was showing him.

  “Brett Sevele, CTO of Additive Manufacturing, an Ian Blackwell Holdings company, was arrested today on fraud and embezzlement charges. The investigation, conducted by the parent company itself, has been ongoing. Sevele has already been replaced by —”

  She muted the volume, focusing on the images that showed Brett being taken into the police station, his attorney beside him, the press hounding him. He looked haggard, terrified—and the way he moved, the way he flinched when a police officer prodded him on, and the beginning of a bruise on his jaw, were clear signs to anyone who knew him, who knew what was going on.

  Tess turned to her husband, whose eyes were still on the screen. He looked at her and gave a slight shrug.

  “You failed to mention that you intended to beat him up.”

  Ian had known she would figure it out as soon as she saw Brett. And yet he had set it up. No one objected. Very few, only those who needed to know and who would protect the secret, knew why. And that was the way it would remain.

  When he spoke, his voice was calm and very much countered by the darkness in his eyes. “He hurt you. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him. Lucky that you asked me not to. Lucky that Robert was in the room with me.” He raised an eyebrow. “A lucky man, all in all, I would say. Except for the fact that he has nothing left and is going to prison for a long time.” His gaze turned to the muted broadcast.

  She looked at him, at this fine man of business and calculated moves who flew halfway across the world to beat up the man who had attacked her. Her eyes flickered over him, seeing in her mind the muscles she knew were under that finely cut suit, which she had fleetingly seen the night she had come into his bedroom. Her heart tripped over itself again, and she told herself it was because of what he had done for her. And it probably was, to an extent.

  “I don’t know if I should throw something at you or kiss you,” she remarked.

  His gaze turned to her in surprise. He didn’t expect that. Nor did he expect what it did to him. “Kiss me,” he suggested with his eyebrows raised.

  She considered him. Then she walked up to him and touched her lips to his, of her own accord for the first time. He put his hands on her waist, holding her gently. When she began to move back he held her to him, holding her eyes for a tender moment before leaning and kissing her. He deepened the kiss slowly, keeping it gentle even as he let passion dictate, as he felt her respond. When their lips parted he stayed close. So did she.

  “What happens now?” she asked him.

  “Legal and Public Relations prefer that we stay away for a couple of weeks, until they clear us to return. They want to be free to handle the situation their way. Robert concurs strongly, he says it would be best if he could say we’re on a well-earned vacation, maybe even hint that we’ve finally gone on our honeymoon, since the Brett affair is now completely resolved.”

  “So—” she began, then fell silent. He was looking at her intently, hesitation on his face. She’s couldn’t recall ever seeing him hesitating.

  “Ian,” she said. Waited.

  He let go of her and moved away. He didn’t want to do this. But he had promised himself that he would, had been talking himself into doing it for some time now. It was the right thing to do.

  He came to lean on the fireplace, his eyes lowered. “I have an island in Fiji. I bought it before I bought the Woodside house, when I still lived in San Francisco and wanted a place no one knows about or at least can’t get to without my permission. I would like to go there for the duration. It would be the best place to disappear to, and it would certainly be a welcome reprieve.” He looked at her. “For both of us.”

  Her heart took on a life of its own.

  “I would like you to come with me.” He watched her. “But I’m also offering an alternative. For you only. My jet will take you anywhere you want, anywhere in the world. I will annul this marriage and ensure no one knows where you are. You are a rich woman and can do as you please. Free of me.”

  He stopped. He didn’t want to continue explaining this option that had tormented him for many a night now. An option she deserved to have. She had the right to be free, to have the life she never had. And she had, he thought, every right to leave him. And while he would otherwise chase her across the globe until he won her back, circumstances, what he had allowed to happen to her, might just dictate otherwise. For him, her happiness was all that mattered.

  Her silence following his proposal was excruciating for him.

  “Which would you prefer me to do?” she finally asked him, her eyes on his, her voice quiet. She knew what she wanted, what her choice would be, a choice she never would have imagined she would make. But she needed to be sure of his, needed to hear him say it.

  Her heart beat hard as the look in his eyes changed, becoming that which she was learning was meant only for her.

  “There is nothing I want more than for you to come with me,” he said, his voice soft. “Nothing I want more than for you to be my wife.”

  She walked up to him and he waited, bracing himself, as she stopped before him, standing close, almost but not touching him, her eyes never leaving his.

  “Ian,” she said with that now familiar tilt of her head, a gentle glimmer in her eyes, “I am your wife.”

  He took her in his arms and held her to him, held tight as relief flooded him, allowing love to follow in its wake, allowing what he wanted, what he had in him for her, to come out unchecked. His mouth locked on hers, his arms tight around her, and she answered, letting him in, leaving them both breathless when they finally parted.

  “I love you, Tess,” he said, holding her close, so close to him.

  “Say that again,” she said, wonder in her voice.

  He embraced her, feeling her arms around him, a sensation he had no idea could do so much to a man, to him. “I love you, Tess, my wife,” he repeated, never letting go.

  They stood together, their arms around each other. She marveled at how good it felt to be held by him. Loved, by him. A tug of apprehension followed, at what she knew this meant, what was still to be between them, but for the first time she pushed it away. It, and not him.

  “Can you just leave this way?” she asked.

  “I’ve taken care of most of what I needed to since we’ve arrived here, the main audits are pretty much done and my people are perfectly capable of dealing with the rest. And if I’m needed, I can be reached. The island has satellite communication service and Robert and Becca know where I am.” He smiled. “It may come as a surprise to you, but I don’t work all the time.”

  “It seemed that way since us.”

  “I couldn’t take time off without you, and I couldn’t take time off with you.”

  She laughed. “Good point.”

  “I can now, and I am. We are.”

  “When are we going?”

  “In the morning, after the crew gets some rest and the jet is prepared. I still need to tell them where we’re going, I had to speak to you first.” He eased back to look at her. “Graham will be the only one on the island with us while we’re there. Do you mind him?”

  “No at all, not Graham.”

  “Good. He likes it there.” He looked toward the kitchen. “I’d better go talk to him. I told him earlier what I intended to do, and he’s waiting, rather anxiously I should say. He’s angry at me for even suggesting I might let you go.”

  “You did the right thing,” she said quietly, and let herself be pulled close to him again.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Staying out of the public eye for a little longer suited Ian. He wanted the time alone with his wife, and he didn’t want anyone to even think they might be
in this part of the world. Even IBH Ivory—which still had no idea about its role in everything that had transpired—thought he was back in the United States, having seen him there on the news.

  They made their way unseen to the building’s car park, and from there to the private hangar that housed the jet at Sydney Airport. Tess and Ian sat together in the back of the car, while Graham sat beside the driver, chattering happily on the way.

  “You will love the island, Mrs. Blackwell,” he said for the hundredth time as the car entered the hangar. He was in a good mood, delighted to see how close together Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell were sitting now, that Mr. Blackwell was holding his wife’s hand. Finally. These two were driving him mad. He loved them both, but they were seriously driving him bonkers.

  Tess took her seat on the jet, still listening to Graham enthusiastically describe their destination. After speaking to the pilots, Ian came to sit in his seat opposite hers. As the aircraft taxied and took off smoothly, his eyes came to rest on Tess’s, and hers on his.

  “See? I knew you’ll end up together. But who ever listens to me?” Graham, sitting on the other side of the aisle, grumbled.

  “What’s that, Graham?” Ian said.

  “Two hearts with a shared destiny will always find each other, is all I’m saying.”

  “I had no idea you were a romantic.”

  “You’ve never given me a reason to be,” Graham grumbled some more. “And after seeing you two skirt around each other for so long, I’ll be taking some liberty with that, Mr. Blackwell. If you don’t mind my saying so, sir.”

  “Skirt around each other?” Ian looked at Graham incredulously.

  “I should say. You fell for each other like five seconds after you met, even Mr. Ashton said so.”

  “I seem to have missed some occurrences around me,” Ian noted with interest.

  “Doesn’t matter, it’s all good now. But you’ll understand if I keep an eye on you two for a while, just to make sure, won’t you?”

  Ian stared at his loyal house manager and Tess stifled a laugh. He glanced at her and smiled. Anything was worth seeing her like this, finally being with her this way.

  They landed at Fiji’s Nadi International Airport, and from there it was a short distance to where a seaplane waited to take them to the island. Tess sat beside the pilot, looking around her elated. It was her first time ever in such a plane, in such a place, with the most beautiful view she had ever seen. Ian sat behind her, and beside him sat Graham, muttering at the boxes of extra supplies that had waited for them in the seaplane when they embarked on it. The island, which was maintained by a specialized property caretaking crew arranged for by Ira Gold, was always prepared in advance for Mr. Blackwell’s visits, but Graham liked to decide at the last minute what else he wanted there. This time he’d planned what he said were his romantic island meals for Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell, making it clear to both of them that he was not about to let the matter of their finally being together drop.

  At Ian’s request, the pilot flew around the island, giving Tess a full view of it, before the seaplane descended gracefully and landed on the water not far from the palm-lined beach, then docked at a mooring that led into a natural cave. Ian helped Tess disembark, and she walked along the mooring to the cave. Inside, a speedboat bobbed on the water, and to her right, on a patch of sand that led outside, stood a granite-colored open-top Jeep Wrangler. She stepped around the Jeep, shaking her head in wonder, and went outside again. She stood on the beach under a sunny blue sky, breathing in the sea air. It had been years since she’d been to the beach, hadn’t seen the sea since she was a kid, in another life. Had certainly never been to a place like this.

  At the sound of the seaplane taking off, she turned to see that Ian and Graham had already finished taking everything they had brought with them into the cave. She was about to go back in herself when she heard a car start, and the Jeep came out, driven by Ian. He stopped near her and waited while she climbed in beside him, with Graham sitting in the back, his focus still on his cherished supplies.

  They drove along a well-kept path that wound through thick woods and high vegetation, and stony terrain at times, until they came to a hill where a cabin stood, its slanted roofs and its colors blending in with the terrain around it. Tess got out of the Jeep and walked around the cabin, while Ian helped Graham bring in their bags and the boxes of supplies. He came out again as she stood in front of the cabin, looking up at it dreamingly. She turned around slowly, taking in the peace around her.

  “This,” she said, a smile on her face, “is a good place to bring a woman to.”

  “The only woman I’ve ever brought here is my wife,” was all he said.

  She looked at him, her smile making place for an expression of wonder.

  He reached his hand to her.

  She took it.

  He led her into the cabin. If it could even be called that, Tess mused. It certainly had that cozy, calming feel to it, which fit the island it was on, but it was still Ian Blackwell’s cabin, and it showed. The want for nothing, albeit understated, hidden under comfort and quaintness, was here, too.

  To their left, a flight of stairs led down, Tess couldn’t see where to. And up ahead, at the end of the hallway, she could see a living room that opened to the clearing in the woods that surrounded the cabin. As they walked toward it, something fell not far from them on their left, and they heard Graham curse.

  Ian winked at her. “Graham? Are you okay?” he called out.

  “Fine, fine, just a difference of opinion,” Graham called back, and they peeked into the kitchen that opened both to the hallway and to a dining room that led to the living room on its other end.

  Leaving Graham to argue with a kitchen cabinet that was adamant on opposing him, Ian led Tess to the living room, the glass wall of which opened to the outside when Ian uttered a command, and then to a flight of stairs on its far right.

  “The cabin uses the slope of the hill to create three levels,” he said. “This is the main level. On the cabin’s left are the bedrooms, you saw the stairs going half a level down to them near the front door. Graham has his room there, it opens to the side of the cabin and has a porch he likes to sit on, watch his favorite shows.” He led her up the stairs. “The cabin and the entire island, by the way, are secure. There are security consoles scattered around the cabin, including in the kitchen, in the living room, in Graham’s room, and in the master bedroom.”

  He stopped at the top of the stairs, finding himself feeling uncharacteristically awkward. He felt as if he was a teenager again, on a first date with his sweetheart. “That’s the master bedroom,” he said, indicating a door immediately ahead. “It’s the only room up here, on this level. That’s where you will sleep, I’ve already put your bag there. I’ll be in one of the bedrooms on the other side.”

  She couldn’t take her eyes off the door to the master bedroom.

  “Tess.”

  She looked at him.

  “We’ve got time,” he simply said, and she loved him for it.

  This time she didn’t argue with him about him giving her the master bedroom. It was different, it felt different, and she couldn’t bring herself to talk about the bedrooms either of them would be sleeping in. Instead, she went in and looked around.

  The master bedroom was large and airy, boasting the same quiet coziness as the rest of the cabin, as befitting this island heaven. Wooden walls, comfortably hued furniture, a door that opened to a spacious bathroom and another on its left that led to a closet. Her suitcase sat on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, facing a big fireplace with wood stacked high beside it. She walked into the closet, curious. One side held some clothes, casual, his. Of course, she thought, he kept clothes here, shed off the suits and the business world’s Ian Blackwell with them, or at least partially—she imagined he never truly stopped. That part of the closet was sparse, though, enough to make her realize he must have moved some of his clothes to the room he would be staying in. />
  The other side had her jaw drop. Clothes, fitting for where they were, for a woman. Her colors, her fit. She turned to look at Ian. He was still standing at the doorway, hadn’t set a foot inside.

  She loved him for that, too, for doing that even though there was no longer need for it.

  “These clothes,” she said.

  “I had Juno and Hubert make them some time after we started working on what was happening in Ian Blackwell Holdings. You were working hard, I thought I’d send you here.”

  “Just me.”

  “You, Lina and Graham.”

  She looked at him with those beautiful eyes of hers, and he cleared his throat and put his hand in his pocket, the fingers of the other brushing through his thick black hair. Sheepish, she thought with wonder. He actually looked self-conscious.

  “I was supposed to . . . I had planned to take you out to dinner the evening after I would have returned from Tokyo. To ask your permission to go back, to do things as they should have been done. To allow me to end the contract and date you. Properly. Had you said yes, we would have ended up here at some point, on a well-deserved vacation. Had you said no, I would have suggested that you come here without me, to decide in peace what you would like to do next.”

  “You were planning to offer me the choice you eventually offered me anyway.”

  “Yes. Differently than the way things turned out, but yes. I have known I love you for quite some time, Tess. That much Graham is right about.”

  “He’s right about both of us,” she said, coloring under his gaze. Not at all used to this, unsure what to say, what to do, she turned and walked to the open doors that led to a wide balcony outside, to a view of the sun setting on a glittering sea.

  He saw, knew. But he stayed where he was, still not coming into the room.

  She was framed against the golden light, its deepening red hues mixing perfectly with those of her hair. A gentle breeze tugged at her and she turned her face to it, let it brush against soft skin.