“I’m yours,” I say huskily, my words stuttering as a small, unexpected orgasm sends electric sparks fluttering through me. “And you’re mine.”

“Hell, yes I am.”

He holds my gaze long enough for me to see passion and promise. And, yes, understanding. Then he draws his hand away, the sensation making me melt a little more. He licks his fingers clean and my cunt clenches in response to that simple, erotic action.

He takes a single step backward and pulls his T-shirt over his head. Then he reaches for his jeans.

“No,” I say, then go to him. I unbutton his jeans and ease them over his hips, taking his briefs with them. His cock hardens as I do, and I bite back a satisfied smile.

I slide down his body until I’m on my knees, and his cock is stiff and magnificent in front of me. I tilt my head back to look at him. I meet his eyes, and I can tell he knows exactly what this is. It’s more than desire and need. It’s my apology, my submission, my promise.

I tease him first, licking the length of his shaft and teasing the crown. But I want more than that. I want to get him off. I want to give him that moment when everything disappears and he is reduced to sweet sensation. I want to wash away the pain I caused.

I cup his balls with one hand and take his cock into my mouth, and the taste of him, so very male, so very Jackson, slices through me, making my nipples hard and my own body demand attention. But I keep my focus on Jackson. On the way he’s thrust one arm out for balance. On the low moans he is making as passion builds.

And—oh yes—on the way he holds my head and guides me as he gets closer and closer and then finally explodes in my mouth.

He is holding me in place, and I have no choice but to swallow. And after I do, I stand up and kiss him, sharing the taste of him as he slides his hand between my legs to stroke my slick cunt. “Your turn now.”

I squeal as he scoops me up, then lays me on the bed. Then slowly, he strokes his hands over me, his touch driving me wild because there is no part of me to which he doesn’t minister. I squirm and writhe under his attention, my skin sensitive, my body needy. He doesn’t relent. Not until every tiny nerve ending is tied to my core, and when he thrusts inside me—when he strokes my clit and sends me reeling—it is like the sun is rising inside me, illuminating my entire body, turning me brighter and brighter until I can’t contain it any longer and I explode into golden rays of sunshine.

I come down slowly, trembling, then curl up in his arms. “Is it this way for everybody?” I ask. “This intensity. This feeling that I’ll shrivel up if I can’t touch you?” I tilt my head up to look at him. “You know what I mean, right?”

“You know I do.”

“Is it because we’re a little bit lost, you and I?”

He kisses the top of my head. “Lost? Oh, no, sweetheart. Not anymore. We’re found.”

After a moment, he eases us both up off the bed so that we can get under the covers. After we’re settled again, he turns to get something off the bedside table. I recognize it immediately—it’s his grandmother’s ring. My ring. The one I’d left behind.

“You asked me to marry you once before. Now it’s my turn.”

He slides out of bed, and to my delight, drops to one knee as he holds out the ring. “Sylvia Brooks, will you marry me?”

I look at him, and cannot hide my smile.

Second chances. That seems to be the way it is with Jackson and me.

And there’s no way am I screwing this one up.

“Yes,” I say, and as I tug him back onto the bed and kiss him sweetly, only one thing goes through my head. Wife, I think.

And I really can’t wait.

epilogue

I stand on the main beach at Santa Cortez with Jackson beside me and the world that we have built rising up behind us, fresh and clean and so intertwined with the landscape that it is hard to believe that the buildings didn’t burst up with the formation of the island.

Everything is ready. The guest rooms are primped and polished and made up with fresh linens. The restaurants are stocked. The gift stores overflow with merchandise. The pools sparkle. Not a detail has been spared, and every magazine and newspaper and blog that has covered the resort has called it one of Stark Real Estate Development’s crowning achievements.

The guest list is already overflowing, and we are booked up for the next two years.

The official opening is over a month away, but already the island is bustling with administration, maintenance, and service staff. Most have moved permanently to their quarters on the island, but today there are about a dozen more people on the island who do not live here full-time.