: Chapter 17

Sylvie sat mesmerized as she looked up at the stars. It was so beautiful here. The staff had done an outstanding job transforming the terrace. They’d strung red and white lights everywhere. On the tile roof and archways, wrapped around the balustrades and columns, edging the windows, wall, and doors. They’d even done the palm trees. Bouquets containing dozens and dozens of blood red roses filled vases and urns. So many that she could smell their fragrance with every breeze. Crepe paper hearts and cupids adorned every sill, rail, and table. She’d been effusive in her thanks to the butler and maids who were serving them, but she had to remember to thank the entire staff tomorrow for giving her this magical evening.

Sometimes Connor amazed her. He always seemed so preoccupied with his work and his businesses that he often seemed oblivious to everything else. Nothing could be further from the truth. He’d planned this evening, down to the minutest detail. They were even drinking the same champagne they’d been drinking the first time they’d made love. Now that she was off the painkillers, sleeping pills, and antidepressants, Connor decided it would be OK for her to have some, but he was limiting her to three glasses. She could live with that.

Dinner had been delicious. Enormous, chilled, pink prawns served with a tangy cocktail sauce and a side of sliced avocado drizzled in lime juice was the appetizer. Though English was spoken on the island, just like it was on the mainland, the culture on Ambergris was definitely Hispanic. Everyone here spoke Spanish. The food was fabulous. Everything they cooked was Mexican Caribbean style. She’d gotten spoiled, eating her fill of guacamole and ceviche made of conch, shrimp and octopus every day. And feasting on fresh caught fish and the most delectable rice dishes she’d ever tasted. These people knew their way around a kitchen. But this evening they’d really gone all out. After the shrimp, they’d brought out deep-fried, spicy conch fritters, followed by a simple salad of thick sliced tomatoes topped with cilantro pesto and crumbled cheese. It was heavenly. The main course was an array of seafood: steamed local stone crab claws, chunks of grilled Caribbean spiny lobster tail, and medallions of snapper and grouper, accompanied by a zesty, garlic, lemon-butter sauce and a tropical fruit salsa They were served with sides of fried plantain, Belizean beans and rice, and sticky coconut rice. Sylvie could barely move she was so full. Connor was pleased. He’d been worried about her not eating enough till they came here. Now he marveled at the amount of food she could scarf down . Dessert was an assortment of bite-sized coconut flan, sweet potato pudding, and Key lime tartlets. She would be waddling off to bed tonight.

She was wearing a red silk charmeuse slip dress, much like the peach-colored one she’d worn to the last party. She found it laid out on her dresser when she’d awakened from her nap. There had also been a pair of matching red sandals, a thin triangle of sheer fabric that was doubling as underwear, and a hair clip with a matching red silk rose. Connor certainly knew how to set the stage for a memorable evening.

The only downside was that Connor wasn’t very talkative tonight. Basically, he’d spent the entire evening silently staring at her, though he was trying to do it surreptitiously so she wouldn’t notice. She sensed that he had something to say to her. But every time it looked like he was going to finally blurt it out, he stopped himself. She noticed him nervously putting his hand into his pocket a couple of times. But as soon as she noticed, he’d pull it back out again. Sylvie was sipping her champagne and staring at the moon, when she felt his hand cover hers.

‘There’s something I need to talk to you about,’ he said, almost nervously.

‘Oh no! Not more bad news,’ she thought.

‘We’ve been through a lot together. Haven’t we?’

‘I’ll say,’ Sylvie agreed, wondering what he was getting at. He was staring at her again, only this time he looked scared. What the hell was going on?

‘Let’s dance,’ he said, jumping up from the table and nearly knocking it over as he took her in his arms. ‘I’ve always loved this song.’

Sylvie listened to the first few strains and recognized the melody. ‘My Funny Valentine.’

‘I’ve always preferred the Ella Fitzgerald rendition, but thought the Frank Sinatra version would be more apropos tonight.’

She didn’t say anything, just smiled and nodded. Apropos? She listened to the lyrics. My funny Valentine. Sweet comic valentine. You make me smile with my heart. You’re looks are laughable. She wrinkled her brow. What exactly was this about? Was he trying to tell her something? That she was funny-looking? Whatever it was she didn’t think she was going to like it.

Sylvie fit perfectly in his arms as he danced her around the terrace. ‘My funny Valentine. Sweet comic Valentine. You make me smile with my heart,’ he crooned in her ear. ‘You do you know.’ Connor took a deep, steadying breath. ‘You make me happy.’

Where did that come from? As he pulled her closer she was conscious of his heart. It was pounding like a triphammer. She pulled away, ‘Connor are you all right?’ He was pale. Beads of sweat were forming on his brow. ‘Are you sick?’ she asked, worried. ‘Maybe we should sit down.’

‘No! Please! I’m fine! I just need to ask you something Sylvie. I need to know if you’re happy with me. Look, I’m well aware that you think I’m a domineering, egotistical jerk sometimes; that I’m often brusque, testy, and demanding. And you’ve certainly made it abundantly clear that you don’t like my rules or discipline. But you still love me don’t you?’

Where was he going with this? Connor had always seemed, at best, indifferent when she told him she loved him. Now he wanted confirmation? ‘Yes, of course I still love you!’ She was going to add that she in no way loved his spankings. That she hated them. But he had the strangest look on his face. The only word to describe it was…hopeful? What the hell?

‘Good! Good!’ he said, nodding his head in approval.

This was getting weird. What exactly was he getting at?

Connor stopped dancing, his breathing strained. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little box. ‘Your aunt’s rings were damaged. I had them repaired.’ He snapped open the box so she could see.

‘Thank you Connor. That’s very thoughtful of you.’ She reached for the rings, smiling. They looked just the same as she remembered. She glanced down at her left hand, at the scars on her finger. She studied them, as though trying to pry something from her memory. ‘I was wearing these and he…he stomped on my hand,’ she said, her voice sounding fearful as the image flashed in her head.

‘Sylvie, I’m sorry. I didn’t think,’ he apologized. How stupid was he not to realize the rings might bring back terrifying memories?

‘No! I’m fine! I love them. I can’t thank you enough. The day I found them in Tiz’s old trinket box and put them on, I promised I’d take good care of them for her. I’m truly grateful to you for helping me keep my promise.’

‘You know it’s not really much of a diamond. It’s a very small stone. Not even a quarter carat. I was going to have a bigger one put into the setting, but decided against it after Pearly told me the ring had belonged to your aunt. That she’d wanted you to have it. He had it appraised. It’s old, but isn’t worth very much, aside from the sentimental value. Pearly told me your aunt was fairly well-off, but never wore any jewelry other than the rings. That she never took them off.’

‘That’s because my Uncle Glenn gave them to her on their wedding day. Tiz really loved him. She spent her whole life waiting for the day he’d come home to her.’

‘Pearly said you inherited most of your aunt’s estate.’

Sylvie nodded.

‘You know the more I thought about the rings. The more I realized how perfect this ring was for you. It’s dainty and beautiful. I couldn’t imagine you with a huge, gaudy diamond on your finger. I think you’d be embarrassed to wear it. A ring like that would mean nothing to you. But this little ring. This little ring means enduring love and devotion. Agreed?’

What was he talking about? Whatever it was went right over her head. ‘I don’t understand?’

‘I asked you if this ring symbolizes enduring love and devotion. And I’m wondering if you’d be content with just this ring?’

Either she was dense or he was! ‘Content?’ she repeated, looking at him in confusion.

‘I guess it might be better if I just came right out and said it. Why don’t we sit down and have a little more champagne? My mouth is incredibly dry right now.’ Connor grabbed her hand and led her back to the table. After she sat down, Connor passed Sylvie her glass. Just as she was taking a sip, he pulled the diamond ring from the box, dropped to one knee and blurted it out. ‘Sylvie, will you marry me?’

Sylvie was so shocked by his proposal that she could neither swallow nor open her mouth to reply. Consequently, a mouthful of very expensive champagne shot out of her nose and drenched him.

Connor shook his head, no longer nervous. ‘That wasn’t exactly the answer I was expecting,’ he said as he rose from knees, grabbed a napkin, and began wiping at his hair, face, and the front of his shirt.

After coughing out the last drops of champagne, with her nose dripping like a leaky faucet, Sylvie sat stunned, staring at him with disbelieving eyes. ‘Are you serious or is this your idea of a joke? Because if it is, it isn’t very funny!’

‘I’ve never been more serious in my life. I want you to marry me and be my wife!’

‘You love me?’ Sylvie asked, happy tears of joy, glinting in her eyes. But there appeared to be a problem. Connor looked like she’d just whacked him upside the head. The man whose whole life revolved around words, was suddenly tongue-tied and it showed. Sylvie waited to hear the words, but they weren’t forthcoming. She studied him warily.

‘That goes without saying.’

‘Perhaps. But I’d like to hear you say it just the same.’

‘I care for you.’

‘That’s great,’ she told him. ‘But I was hoping for the L word. You know. Take it up another notch?’

Connor didn’t say anything. He couldn’t make eye contact with her. His were darting around frantically as though he was a caged animal caught in a trap, looking for a way to escape.

Whoa! Houston we have a problem! This was not the reaction she was looking for. He wanted to marry her, but he couldn’t say he loved her? That sure as hell was a deal breaker! She was about to tell him so when she changed her mind. Was she really going to let this man go because he couldn’t say three little words to her? This was the same guy who sat vigil at her bedside day and night, who moved heaven and earth to keep her safe, and make her well. Actions speak louder than words she reminded herself. ‘Yes!’ she said with as much conviction as she could muster. ‘Yes! I’ll marry you! I love you Connor and I want to spend the rest of my life with you!’

Connor slipped the ring on her finger, pulled her to her feet and brought his mouth down on hers in a passionate, scorching kiss. He lifted her and she shocked him by wrapping her legs around his waist. She was giggling as she licked the sweetish champagne off her fiancé’s lips and then his chin. Fiancé? Was she dreaming? She sure as hell hoped not!

He drove his tongue into her mouth and began exploring. Connor couldn’t believe it. She was going to be his! From now until forever! He could feel the heat emanating from her core as it nestled against his belly. Sylvie made little mewling sounds as her body melded with his and she began grinding against him. Her tongue moved over his, licking and flicking. Connor’s hands groped her bottom, as he deepened the kiss. Warm and wet, their tongues danced together. Stroking. Gliding. Twirling. They teased and tickled. Finally entwining in a loving caress. Sylvie was breathless with arousal. ‘Take me,’ she whispered. ‘Please!’

Connor whisked her through the halls to their room. Sylvie’s eyes, half-closed, opened wide. The room was bathed in candlelight. Who said this man wasn’t romantic? Could have fooled her!

Connor kicked the door closed and walked to the bed, her legs still tightly wrapped around him. ‘Stand up Sylvie. I want to see you. All of you. Drink you in.’ Connor put her down, then took a seat on the bed, his eyes never leaving her. ‘Have I told you how beautiful you are? How perfect?’

Sylvie blushed, giving him a shy smile. Did he really think she was beautiful? Sure he’d said it before, but she’d never really believed him. And yet…the way he was looking at her…

Connor lifted her dress, his hands gliding up the smooth skin of her curves. ‘I want to see what’s mine,’ he said, lifting it over her head and dropping it on the floor. ‘Exquisite,’ he offered, as his mouth sought the sweet comfort of her breasts. His lips began to alternately kiss the small pink mounds, pausing to lick the nipples, and then suckle. Usually he would attack her, sucking voraciously, but not this time. This time would be slow and gentle, he wanted her to remember this night for the rest of her life.

Sylvie moaned softly as he lifted her up and laid her down on the bed. When she looked up at him, he was grinning at her mischievously. ‘What?’ she asked. Connor grabbed her panties and ripped them clean off her. Sylvie gasped, staring at him reproachfully.

‘I can’t help it. I love separating you from your panties. Tearing away the barriers. Get used to it, I’ll probably be doing it till the day I die. My, my, what do we have here? Such a pretty little thing. So soft, so smooth, so pink and so very, very delicious.’ His head bent to kiss her mound. You and I are going to be spending a lot of quality time together from now on.’ He quickly shed his clothes and joined her on the bed. Connor started with her lips. So sweet and plump, they tasted of coconut and vanilla. He licked at them, running the tip of his tongue back and forth over the seam, inviting them to part. When they did, his tongue swept into her mouth. His right hand began slowly exploring her body. The back of his fingers grazing her neck. His touch light as a feather. He caressed her shoulders, stroking her warm, soft skin. Pausing, he cupped her breast and pinch the rosy peak. Sylvie moaned. His hand continued on, gently rubbing her tummy, his finger tracing around her belly button, then finally settling on her bare mound. He gently massaged it, eliciting a little wriggle. His fingers moved to her cleft. He could feel the heat. Connor parted her outer lips and began stroking the silken petals. She was so wet her pussy glistened. He had to taste her. He nudged her legs apart until he could insinuate himself between them. He breathed deeply of her scent. It was sublime!

Connor loved this. Being with her. Touching her. Feeling her. Smelling and tasting her. His mouth descended on her nether lips and began to lick voraciously, like a child delighting in his favorite sweet. And she was sweet, like nectar. His lips moved to her little bud and began sucking. Sylvie moaned and splayed her legs wider apart. He drew lazy circles around her tiny pearl with his tongue, then nipped it with his teeth, exerting just enough pressure to make her tremble. He began sucking it again, this time harder. Her body was moving, lifting, trying to force herself deeper into his mouth. Connor could hear the tiny puffs of air she expelled as passion took her. When he sensed she was almost there, he bit down on her throbbing clit, pinching it between his teeth. Sylvie exploded. Her entire body began to pulse, the spasms causing every muscle to quiver. Like tingling jolts of electrical current, the shocks sent her reeling. Soaring. Floating. Higher and higher. She was dazed. Euphoric. As the sensation slowly receded, Sylvie became aware of his fingers thrusting inside her. First one, then two, then three. The muscles of her passage clenched around them. The tips of his fingers were touching as they entered her; but once inside they separated, endeavoring to stretch her. He rotated his fingers back and forth. She was so soft, so warm, so wet. She felt like velvet inside. He drove his fingers straight in, twisting them as he withdrew. From the way her bottom was writhing on the bed, she was enjoying it. Connor felt her shudder. She was coming again. Heat coursed through Sylvie’s veins like burning embers, igniting every part of her. Her core was on fire and the fire was spreading. She trembled and shook as the flames seared and engulfed her. She was burning up. The sensation overwhelmed her. It was rapture. It was bliss.

Sylvie panted breathlessly as he pulled his fingers out and positioned himself on top of her. Startled, she suddenly stopped moving and went rigid. There was a look of abject terror on her face. She remembered! Remembered the weight of his body crushing hers. The smell of cigars. The feel of his cock rubbing against her!

‘Sylvie what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?’ Connor was concerned he’d done something to spoil the moment. That was the last thing he meant to do. He wanted it to be perfect for her.

It took her a moment to realize where she was. Sylvie looked up into Connor’s worried face and forced herself to smile. This was Connor, not the monster who’d brutalized her. She put her hands on his hips and pulled him forward until the head of his shaft rested against her opening. ‘I love you Connor.’ Her head lifted off the bed, her lips giving him a carnal, hungry kiss. ‘Please. It’s been so long.’

He’d promised himself he’d go easy, take it slow, but the look on her face told him she didn’t want that. Her eyes were filled with yearning. He pressed his cock into her. He’d done his best to stretch her over the last couple of weeks, but she was still very tight. He watched her, waiting for some sign that she was in pain and he should stop, but it didn’t come. She arched her back, then groaning in pleasure, lifted her pelvis to meet his strokes. His skin, damp with sweat, slapped against hers in a frenzied rhythm. He plunged into her again and again as her body writhed beneath him. Sylvie grabbed his bottom with both hands and pulled him into her. She wanted him to go deeper. Fill her completely. Running her fingers over the curve of his bottom, she felt his sack and cupped it, fondling it gently. Connor groaned. It was too much! He couldn’t hold back. Her touch sent him over the edge. He growled as his throbbing cock pounded into her and then exploded. It felt like thunder bolts and lightning had struck him. His body quaked and convulsed as the shocks and heat rocketed through him. It was dizzying. Every muscle, every tendon was vibrating. Sylvie could feel him coming inside her. She threw her head back and let go. Her body trembled uncontrollably from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. Her pussy clenched round his cock in a loving embrace. Pulsing and squeezing, she milked him. Sylvie closed her eyes and was suddenly surrounded by speckles of light; she flew, soaring weightless through space. She could almost touch the stars. Her body was still thrumming as she slowly glided back down to earth.

Connor lay atop her, trying to catch his breath. He wondered if it would always be like this with her. Sylvie had a sweetness about her…so engaging, so delightful, so real. And her smile…it blew him away. Those big blue eyes, always earnest and innocent, were windows to her soul. He knew in his heart of hearts he didn’t deserve her. She was a genuinely good person, open and loving, kindhearted and gentle. He wasn’t. Where Connor was dark and brooding, Sylvie was a brilliant light. A true optimist, ever hopeful. She was always looking for the good in people. Even him. After all she’d endured, after coming so close to losing her forever, he knew he could never, would never, hurt her again. Connor promised to be faithful to her, to do his best to make her happy. He never wanted her to regret her decision. He would always be strict and demanding, worrying about her safety and well-being. That was his nature. He couldn’t change that. What he could change was his outlook on life. Going forward, it wouldn’t be the bleak battle he’d always envisioned it to be. Where the only important things were money, power, and prestige. He’d be sharing her life now. Her hopes and her dreams. What frightened him was that her values were so very different than his. He kept thinking back to Christmas and the children. She’d want children wouldn’t she? A shiver went through him. He’d been scared of committing to marriage, of being a husband; but that was nothing compared to his terror at the thought of being a father. Every other mother’s son could procreate. Why not him? His father had been a good father he was sure. But Connor had worked so hard to erase the memories of his childhood, he couldn’t remember what he’d been like. If she insisted on having children, he’d just have to make the best of it. They were cute after all, except when they piddled on your pants or dumped juice on your shirt. But that was what nannies, and nurses, and au pairs were for; and, if all else failed, he could always send the rugrats off to boarding school. No, Sylvie would never allow that. She’d want to raise them. She wanted what her brothers and sister had…a loving home with swarms of children running around underfoot. But he was putting the cart before the horse. They weren’t even married yet. Perhaps if he was lucky he’d turn out to be sterile. Even that might not get him off the hook. She’d probably want to adopt. Shit. Marriage to Sylvie was going to be a lot more complicated than he thought.

‘Connor, I need to tell you something,’ she whispered. There was a taint of worry in her tone. ‘Now that we’re getting married. I don’t think we should keep secrets from each other.’

He knew where this was going and smiled. ‘What?’

‘I did something you probably won’t like,’ she stammered.

‘Did you now? And what might that be?’

‘I’ve kept a journal since I was a kid. I write down interesting things about my day. The places I go. The people I see. The things I do. But most of all my feelings about it all. When I started working for you, you became the primary topic of my journal. I wrote about us every day. How you made me feel, making love, the rules, everything. I was very angry when you sent me to New York.’

‘And?’ he said, lifting himself off her and sitting up, his back resting against the headboard.

He was staring at her intently. It made her decidedly uneasy. ‘I sort of turned it into a book.’

‘Indeed? And what did you do with this book of yours?’

‘You’re going to kill me,’ she told him. ‘I got really pissed at you one night and published it. It’s on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iTunes, Kobo, it’s everywhere. I’m sorry. I was going to unpublish it, I really was, but…’

‘It started selling,’ he finished the sentence for her. ‘And now it’s too late to pull it back because what…it’s become a bestseller? Am I right so far?’

She nodded.

‘I agree you can’t take it back now. Not when your number 59 on the erotic romance list.’

Her mouth gaped open. Holy crap! He already knew! Wait, what did he just say? She’d just cracked the top 100. And now she was number 59? Holy cow! She wanted to jump up and down and cheer, but she didn’t think Connor would appreciate that. She couldn’t gage how angry he was. There was no smoke coming out of his ears. He wasn’t glaring at her. And thank God he hadn’t ordered her to get the paddle. Yet!

‘Does your father know you wrote this?’ Connor asked. Lucas didn’t strike him as the kind of man who would appreciate his daughter writing explicitly erotic books.

‘No. I haven’t told anyone.’

‘And of course there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that your family will ever find out, considering how inventive you were in covering your tracks and creating your pen name. S. E. Jenkins? That’s going to really fool them!’

‘How did you find out?’ she asked, waiting to see if he was going to have a full-blown meltdown.

‘You showed me. Your bank statement. Remember? There were several deposits from Amazon and Barnes and Noble, so I did some checking. And it turned out tracking down your book was easier than I thought it would be. It took me all of 15 minutes to locate it on Amazon: Intimate Pleasures-A Diary of Sexual Awakening. Not only didn’t you do much to disguise the identity of the author, you also didn’t do much to hide the identities of the main characters. Sara Jensen and Chase Holland…now really? Couldn’t you come up with something, anything more original than that? At the very least, you could have changed the initials! That was sheer laziness on your part. Do you really think that will fool anyone who knows you, me, us? You’re family, my aunt, my friends? I’m sure your father, brothers, and sister will enjoy your musings on the joy of giving head and how talented you are at it, and your dislike of anything anal.’

Sylvie’s eyes bugged out. She hadn’t thought of that. How would she ever face them again? ‘Are you mad at me?’ she squeaked. ‘Are you still going to marry me?’

‘Yes and yes!’

‘I have to admit. You tell a good tale.’

‘You read it?’ She couldn’t believe her ears. He’d actually read it! Oh no! All the names she’d ever called him, either out loud and in her head; things like asshole, prick, pervert, and much worse were in the book. This wasn’t good! This might wind up being the shortest engagement in recorded history.

‘Of course I read it. And I’ve got to admit it’s a worthy first effort. Even if I don’t approve, the readers obviously do. But I’m going to give you some advice for future reference. Number one. Do something about your hero. He’s a complete asshole. Chase is an arrogant bully, full of himself, without a single redeeming quality. He has the personality of a porcupine. He’s insufferable. I’d only read fifteen pages, before I decided I hated him. I was actually rooting for Sara to throw in the towel, kick him in the balls, and leave.’

Sylvie started giggling.

‘You think this is funny?’

Sylvie shook her head.

‘Number two. If you are going to call it a romance, it has to have an HEA, a happily ever after ending. Half your readers are going to want to slit their wrists after reading this. It’s a downer. The only reason that it’s doing so well is because everyone’s assuming there’s going to be a sequel where Chase will suddenly see the light and become the man of Sara’s dreams. Romance readers as a group are hardcore and unforgiving. They’ll turn on you in an instant. If you don’t give them the ending they want, your reputation as a writer will go down the toilet. So if I were you, I’d get started on the next book. And lastly, if you ever put our lives out there for public scrutiny again, I promise you I will beat your ass every night for a year. The only thing saving your butt now is that most people will look at the book and not know who you’re talking about. It is, after all, supposed to be a work of fiction…not creative non-fiction. Since your family still views you as an innocent little kid and not a grown woman, they may not get that the kinky girl in the story is you. And they don’t know enough about me yet, to realize I’m the asshole you were describing. Right now they think I’m charming! Your sister and Kelly told me so. Let’s hope if they do figure it out, they’ll just think you were taking literary license. As for Lettie. We are not going to tell her about your book. The last thing we want to do is teach that old girl any new tricks!’

‘Connor, shame on you. That’s your aunt you’re talking about,’ she protested, acting indignant.

‘Do you know how many times I’ve seen my aunt feeling Warren’s ass or patting his 70-year-old bulge in the last few weeks? Too many! If she keeps it up she’ll drop dead of a heart attack before she reaches 75 from her antics and take him with her! He’s got to be on Viagra or something because 70-year-old men don’t go around with a perennial boner. It’s unnatural! Every time I think about the way they behave, I cringe.’

‘Oh stop it. I think it’s wonderful.’

‘That’s because she’s not your aunt! The people I’m really worried about reading it, though, are the rest of ‘the six.’ Frigging Drake will never let me live it down. And Sean…he’ll be a son of a bitch and bust my balls for sure. He thinks I should let you go. He told me as much when I was on the phone with him. He thinks you’d be better off with him. He says that unlike me, he’ll treat you right. And he’s prepared to marry you, if that’s what it takes. Narcissistic motherfucker!’

That couldn’t be true! ‘He must be pulling your leg Connor.’

‘No I don’t think so. He was dead serious. Didn’t you know?’

‘Know what? All he did was ask me out. I never returned his phone calls. I never encouraged him,’ she offered in her defense.

‘I know you didn’t. He thought you were fair game. I never realized he was that attracted to you. He’s always so condescending and churlish. Such a prick when it comes to dealing with smart, opinionated women. He doesn’t like them. I figured you two would get on like oil and water. Guess I was wrong! He’s handsome to be sure, but beyond that, he has nothing to recommend him other than his billions. I guess he’s just jealous…I saw you first. I’ve got you and he can’t have you. It must be driving him nuts. He hates to lose! We’ve always had this rivalry when it comes to women. Not only Sean, but all of us. I’m just shocked that he mentioned marriage.’

‘Some friends Connor!’ she said derisively.

‘They’re not so bad. Trust me. They’re good guys. Once you get to know them, you’ll like them!’

‘Yeah, sure. When bats fly out of my butt!’

Connor roared with laughter. ‘I’ll have to tell them that!’ he announced, kissing the tip of her nose. ‘Now go to sleep. It’s been a long day.’

Sylvie didn’t need to be told twice. She snuggled up beside him and fell asleep safe in his arms.