over her.
“Tsk! It’s no matter! I think Mr. Nathan was actually impressed you try to challenge me.” Her booming laugh rose up from her chest.
Autumn smiled, then let out a sigh as she sat down in one of the chairs.
“What’s the matter, child?” Tawanda questioned.
“I don’t know what to make of him—Mr. Nathan. I mean, Nathan.” Autumn raised her eyes to meet the older woman’s.
“He’s a good man,” Tawanda said with a nod.
“Is he? I mean, I can only guess the things he does to people,” Autumn stated.
“Whatever he does, he does for the right reasons ,” Tawanda told her. “Sometimes people have to do bad things for good causes.”
Autumn moved to the edge of the chair. “I can’t imagine living like he does, doing what he does. Does he have a family?”
“All you need to know about Mr. Nathan, child, is that he is a good man, and he will make sure you come to no harm.”
Autumn nodded and began to fiddle with the clasp on her purse.
One...two...three…four…five.
“Are you ready?”
The sound of his voice made Autumn look up. He stood in the doorway of the lounge, dressed to impress. His suit was dark blue, and, from the look of the material and the cut, it was high-quality. Underneath, he wore a cream-colored, round-necked shirt—the latest fashion. His hair was spiked up, he’d shaved again, and on his feet were shoes he definitely hadn’t worn before.
She got to her feet. “Yes, I’m ready,” she spoke when she’d remembered to.
“Why, Mr. Nathan! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so stylish,” Tawanda remarked, another booming laugh escaping her mouth.
“I’ll take the compliment. Come on, we need to get to the boat,” Nathan said to Autumn.
“Boat? You didn’t say anything about a boat!” she exclaimed.
“How else did you think we were getting off the island?”
She looked beautiful tonight. When he’d entered the lounge earlier, he hadn’t made his appearance known straight away. He’d watched her. She was having a conversation with Tawanda. Not a shouting match, not ordering anyone about, an ordinary conversation. And then she’d asked about him. She didn’t know what to make of him. Did he have a family? He knew Tawanda would never tell her, but hearing the question had weakened him for just a second, brought back painful memories, touched a compartment of his brain he tried hard to keep closed off.
The green dress complemented the red of her hair. He’d never seen anyone quite so stunning.
When their taxi pulled up outside The Ricardo, the world’s press was waiting. Autumn had played with her purse the whole journey from the small port, wondering what to say to her guests, wondering what to do, trying to remember the lyrics to the song she had spent the afternoon altering so they weren’t a reflection of the hatred she felt for Juan.
“Don’t get out,” Nathan said as he took hold of her hand.
“I wasn’t. The driver should come and open the door. That’s more professional etiquette for you,” she said, moving her hand from his.
Nathan took her hand again and held on. His touch was firm, but nothing like the horrendous crushing grip he had subjected her to before. She looked up at him and saw an emotion in his eyes she didn’t recognize.
He brought her slim hand up to his mouth and touched his lips against her skin. She swallowed, not drawing her eyes from his, as her stomach plummeted down into the depths of her bowels. She was tingling. From the hand he had kissed, up her arm and into her chest and lower, past her stomach, somewhere she shouldn’t be feeling anything about someone like him.
“When we get out of the car, I’m going to kiss you—for them,” Nathan said, indicating the roar of the press pack outside.
Autumn nodded, transfixed.
“It’s necessary but…I don’t want you to hate it.” He let go of her hand.
Before she could respond, the driver had opened the back door, and
“Tsk! It’s no matter! I think Mr. Nathan was actually impressed you try to challenge me.” Her booming laugh rose up from her chest.
Autumn smiled, then let out a sigh as she sat down in one of the chairs.
“What’s the matter, child?” Tawanda questioned.
“I don’t know what to make of him—Mr. Nathan. I mean, Nathan.” Autumn raised her eyes to meet the older woman’s.
“He’s a good man,” Tawanda said with a nod.
“Is he? I mean, I can only guess the things he does to people,” Autumn stated.
“Whatever he does, he does for the right reasons ,” Tawanda told her. “Sometimes people have to do bad things for good causes.”
Autumn moved to the edge of the chair. “I can’t imagine living like he does, doing what he does. Does he have a family?”
“All you need to know about Mr. Nathan, child, is that he is a good man, and he will make sure you come to no harm.”
Autumn nodded and began to fiddle with the clasp on her purse.
One...two...three…four…five.
“Are you ready?”
The sound of his voice made Autumn look up. He stood in the doorway of the lounge, dressed to impress. His suit was dark blue, and, from the look of the material and the cut, it was high-quality. Underneath, he wore a cream-colored, round-necked shirt—the latest fashion. His hair was spiked up, he’d shaved again, and on his feet were shoes he definitely hadn’t worn before.
She got to her feet. “Yes, I’m ready,” she spoke when she’d remembered to.
“Why, Mr. Nathan! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so stylish,” Tawanda remarked, another booming laugh escaping her mouth.
“I’ll take the compliment. Come on, we need to get to the boat,” Nathan said to Autumn.
“Boat? You didn’t say anything about a boat!” she exclaimed.
“How else did you think we were getting off the island?”
She looked beautiful tonight. When he’d entered the lounge earlier, he hadn’t made his appearance known straight away. He’d watched her. She was having a conversation with Tawanda. Not a shouting match, not ordering anyone about, an ordinary conversation. And then she’d asked about him. She didn’t know what to make of him. Did he have a family? He knew Tawanda would never tell her, but hearing the question had weakened him for just a second, brought back painful memories, touched a compartment of his brain he tried hard to keep closed off.
The green dress complemented the red of her hair. He’d never seen anyone quite so stunning.
When their taxi pulled up outside The Ricardo, the world’s press was waiting. Autumn had played with her purse the whole journey from the small port, wondering what to say to her guests, wondering what to do, trying to remember the lyrics to the song she had spent the afternoon altering so they weren’t a reflection of the hatred she felt for Juan.
“Don’t get out,” Nathan said as he took hold of her hand.
“I wasn’t. The driver should come and open the door. That’s more professional etiquette for you,” she said, moving her hand from his.
Nathan took her hand again and held on. His touch was firm, but nothing like the horrendous crushing grip he had subjected her to before. She looked up at him and saw an emotion in his eyes she didn’t recognize.
He brought her slim hand up to his mouth and touched his lips against her skin. She swallowed, not drawing her eyes from his, as her stomach plummeted down into the depths of her bowels. She was tingling. From the hand he had kissed, up her arm and into her chest and lower, past her stomach, somewhere she shouldn’t be feeling anything about someone like him.
“When we get out of the car, I’m going to kiss you—for them,” Nathan said, indicating the roar of the press pack outside.
Autumn nodded, transfixed.
“It’s necessary but…I don’t want you to hate it.” He let go of her hand.
Before she could respond, the driver had opened the back door, and
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