The beach hut. Biggest understatement of the century. The only thing that makes this four-bed, three-bathroom abode a hut is the pure-white wooden-slatted exterior. There’s a veranda, an outside kitchen, a dunking pool, and a private path to the beach. But however large and luxurious, it has nothing on the monster villa at least half a mile up the beach. It has to be Danny Black’s. Secluded. Private.
Alive.
I drop my glasses back to my nose and rest back on my elbow. James is in the water again. For hours now, he’s swam, following the line of the coast as far as he can, back and forth. The water is glistening, the earlier storm passed, but the scent of rain still hangs thick in the air. The sun is warm on my skin. The sand soft under my back. I cast my eyes down my bathing suit. Not a bikini. I can’t see myself wearing one of those ever again. It’s just another scar to cover. But the mental scars? Will they ever be gone?
And will this nightmare ever end?
I breathe in the sea air and cast my eyes across the horizon. There’s nothing for as far as the eye can see. I can hear no traffic, no people, just the lapping of small waves onto the shore and the light whistle of the breeze. We could stay here. Maintain this peace, this nothingness. Just be.
I sigh, content, and search for James again. He’s no longer swimming. Now, he’s wading out of the sea. I sit up a little, resting back on my hand, and admire the sight. His tight swim shorts. His epic chest. His rough face. I’ve never seen him look so rested. So light.
When he reaches the shore, he uses his foot to pat around on the sand, and I frown, wondering what he’s doing. He drops to his knees, lays his forearms on the sand, and I watch as every muscle in him tenses as he slowly straightens his body until he’s vertical. Still. Steady.
Stability.
Focus.
I smile and get to my feet, cursing under my breath at the pull in my tummy and the ache in my arm, and pad through the sand to him, approaching quietly. I circle his upside-down form, taking in every breathtaking inch of him. His back the most. The damage he sustained trying to save my mom’s life. Saving me.
He’s still saving me.
There’s always been a connection between us. Something insane and unfathomable, but this scar and how he come to have it propels our connection into another realm. Unbreakable.
It’s a beautiful notion.
I reach his front and lower to my stomach, resting down gently, propping my chin on my palm, studying his serene face, my cast placed awkwardly to the side. His lashes flicker a fraction, his lips not smiling but not straight either. Even upside down, he’s wildly beautiful. Then his lips quirk and mine follow. One eye opens. And with precision and little effort, his straight, lean body, starts to lower over me until his front comes to settle on my back. He buries his face in my neck and inhales, and I rest my cheek on the warm sand.
“Hi,” he whispers, and I smile. “It’s me.”
“Hi, me.”
“How’s the sunshine?”
“Warm on my back.” I lift my butt up into his groin with too much effort, and he groans into my neck.
“I’m your sunshine?”
Warm. Bright. “You’re my sunshine,” I confirm, wriggling as best I can without spiking too much pain. But it seems every move hurts. He raises onto his toes and fists, and I turn over, trying to hide the discomfort on my face. He remains suspended above me.
“We’re still not done,” he says quietly, lowering and kissing my lips gently before rising again.
My sunshine. Warmth where there’s cold. Light where there’s dark. Happiness where there’s misery. “Then ask me again,” I say, reaching for the center of his chest and drawing a straight, light line down the middle to his bellybutton. I flick my eyes up to his, relishing his smile.
“If I asked you to marry me,” he whispers, “would you say yes?”
“Yes,” I reply, and he lowers again, placing another kiss on my mouth, this time remaining lowered. No weight on me, his strong arms and straight legs keeping him hovering above my body. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, he advances our kiss, releasing his tongue and finding mine. Swirling slowly. Lapping softly.
Glass.
I take all he is offering, indulging, feeling.
Loving.
“I have a condition,” I murmur around our lips, and he hums, lost. “You don’t kill Dexter.” As expected, he pulls away, and I smile, almost in apology. “I don’t think I could live with myself. I don’t think I could look Lawrence in the eye.”
His Adam’s apple rolls from his swallow, his eyes searching mine. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I can live with honest justice where he’s concerned.” The kind of justice Mom believed in, and which I did too, before I lost her. “I need to know why he did it. How he got in so far up to his neck that he saw that as his only out. I need that, James.”
His nostrils flare. He doesn’t like it, but surely he must understand. “He killed our baby, Beau.” He swallows and lowers again, burying his face in my neck, keeping my front free from his weight
“And he’ll pay,” I say, taking my arm around his back and stroking across his uneven skin. “Okay?”
“Okay,” he breathes, but it’s reluctant. “Anything else?”
“Yes. Once you’ve found The Bear, we leave Miami for good.” I can’t deny him that one kill. I won’t truly ever have James until he’s exorcized that demon. I know that. And, really, I need it too. It’s the missing piece of our puzzle. The path to our eternal peace. Dexter played a part, but he didn’t order the kill.
“Where do you want to go?” He lifts and looks down at me. I can already see his eyes darkening. Vengeance brewing.
“I like it here.”
“Then I’ll buy it.” A kiss.
“And what will you do with all of your time?” I ask.
“I’m going to be your constant sunshine, baby.” His tongue circles mine slowly, his kiss deep and long, before he starts pecking his way down my neck to my chest.
I sigh and drop my head to the side, looking out at the sea.
And in the distance, vivid and stretching across the horizon…
A rainbow.
The story continues in
THE RESURRECTION
On sale January 2022.
Pre-order now.
Join Jodi’s private group for the latest news and giveaways.
Subscribe to Jodi’s Newsletter.
Shop at the JEM online store for signed books, merchandise, and The JEM Candle Library
About Jodi Ellen Malpas
Jodi Ellen Malpas was born and raised in England, where she lives with her husband, boys and Theo the Doberman. She is a self-professed daydreamer, and has a terrible weak spot for alpha males. Writing powerful love stories with addictive characters has become her passion—a passion she now shares with her devoted readers. She’s a proud #1 New York Times Bestselling Author, a Sunday Times Bestseller, and her work is published in over twenty-five languages across the world. You can learn more about Jodi & her words at: JEM.Website
Love Candles? Check out The JEM Candle Library on Instagram. Handmade candles inspired by the characters and words of Jodi Ellen Malpas.
Also by Jodi Ellen Malpas
The This Man Series
This Man
Beneath This Man
This Man Confessed
All I Am – Drew’s Story (A This Man Novella)
With This Man
The One Night Series
One Night - Promised
One Night - Denied
One Night - Unveiled
Standalone Novels
The Protector
The Forbidden
Gentleman Sinner
Perfect Chaos
Leave Me Breathless
The Smoke & Mirrors Duology
The Controversial Princess
His True Queen
The Hunt Legacy Duology
Artful Lies
Wicked Truths
The Unlawful Men Series
The Brit
The Enigma
The Resurrection
Check out Jodi’s brand new Regency Romance Series, coming in 2022
The Enigma: Unlawful Men Book 2 Page 43