sume it’s exactly the kind of work she wants to do?”
Dominic leans closer, his gaze taking on an oddly soft look. “Yes. She has a guardian angel looking out for her, making sure she gets all the right opportunities and connections.”
“I’m glad. It couldn’t have—” I catch myself before I say too much.
He tilts his head. “You aren’t curious about who Kristen is?”
“What?”
“She could be my ex or…”
I laugh to cover up my nerves. “Come on. You aren’t that careless or foolish to bring up your ex or another woman, not like this.”
What are you doing? That’s the perfect opening to come clean. It isn’t too late. Just tell him.
But he’s smiling so brightly, and I just can’t… I don’t want the warmth in his eyes to transform into cold hatred.
“Anyway, boogie boarding? Say yes. It’ll be fun.”
It probably will. Surely I can humor him and do the boarding thing before I tell him everything. “Okay. Give me a minute to change.”
It won’t take that long to do a couple of runs, and as soon as we’re done I’ll tell him everything.
It’ll be over before noon.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Elizabeth
Boogie boarding doesn’t end after I manage to catch a couple of waves.
Dominic’s an excellent teacher. He’s patient and lets me take all the time I need to get a hang of it.
It’s surprisingly easy, especially with the gentle waves, and I relish the swift rush to shore. Every time the water carries me, I feel like all my worries are draining away, leaving me with a heady sense of freedom and lightness.
“Having fun?” Dominic asks with a grin, when I start laughing after riding a particularly big wave.
“Yes! This is awesome!”
“Glad you’re having a good time. Let’s get some snacks. I’m getting hungry.”
“Hungry? You ate all that bacon!”
He gestures at the waves. “Which I’ve burned off now. Come on. We have some pineapple and mango.”
My favorite. I follow him out onto the beach, where our sunbeds, a giant parasol and a cooler are set up.
He opens the cooler and pulls out a Tupperware full of bite-sized pieces of tropical fruit. He hands me a small fork. The fruit tastes extra sweet after our hour of vigorous activity.
After polishing off four particularly large mango chunks, he asks, “When do you need to go back?”
“What?” I say, surprised.
“Your work—the charity foundation you run.”
I hesitate, then say, “Well. If they needed me, they would’ve sent a text or something by now, right?” Rhonda and Patrice are most likely doing fine. They always know exactly what needs to be done each day, and are not only self-directed but lead several teams. I lick my lips, tasting the fruit and salt. “How about you? You need to get back to your empire, right?” I find a light, teasing tone hard to pull off.
Come on, Elizabeth. Stop with this and tell him the truth.