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“Thanks.” Xander took a long sip of tea as Maisy turned and put her hands on her hips.
“Excuse me — I’m not going to fetch it for you. I’m not your chef.”
“Clearly.” Xander gave a meaningful glance at the toast — which, yes, might have been a little on the burned side. Then he swung back off the stool and entered the kitchen. As he did, Maisy realized that she might have miscalculated just a little. The kitchen was small and, with Xander in it, there was no place for him to stand except for right next to her. He was so close that Maisy could smell his aftershave and feel the heat from his body. She quickly brushed past him, grabbed her plate, and made her way into the living room. There she sat on the couch. Of course, Maisy realized grumpily, this was also Xander’s bed. She just couldn’t escape him.
A few minutes later, Xander entered the living room and sprawled into the wicker chair beside the sofa. With great enthusiasm, he crunched into a piece of toast.
“Delicious.”
“Thank you, Maisy,” Maisy prompted.
“Thank you, Maisy. Oh, how your eyes glow like evergreens in a rainstorm and how your cooking both tickles the senses and warms the belly.”
She rolled her eyes. “Okay, I don’t expect you to apologize every minute of this trip, but you could at least stop making fun of me.”
Xander tilted his head to the side. His eyes locked on Maisy’s. “I wasn’t making fun of you.”
For a long moment, they both sat there, looking at each other. Maisy felt a strange shiver run down her spine as she looked into Xander’s deep brown eyes. He hadn’t been making fun of her? What did that mean?
The moment stretched. Maisy opened her mouth to say something, though even she wasn’t sure what, but before she could speak, the door of the villa opened loudly. Maisy and Xander broke their eye contact and turned as one to Safa. She was wearing another pantsuit today and held a clipboard.
“Good morning, lovebirds.” Her tone was dry, but Maisy felt her heart race. Perhaps Safa had seen her and Xander looking at each other and misread dislike and contempt for affection. But Safa pushed on, and Maisy relaxed. “We have a busy day ahead. First, snorkeling on the reef. Then, a romantic picnic for the two of you on shore, which will also be a photo opportunity. I need at least twenty good shots of you looking like a married couple. After that, the day is yours.”
“Oh, I forgot to put on my swimsuit.” Maisy jumped to her feet. “Just a minute.”
“Fine.” Safa didn’t look fazed. “Xander, are you ready?”
“Always.”
As Maisy hurried into the bedroom to fetch her swimsuit and beach towel, she heard Xander attempt to initiate a stream of banter with Safa. He might well have been flirting with her. Great. The only thing that would make this trip more awkward would be if her fake husband picked up a real girlfriend in their publicist.
Maisy reappeared a few minutes later with her bikini on under her dress and a beach bag in one hand. She’d added a floppy hat to her ensemble, which hopefully would do the double duty of shielding her face from the sun and from the cameras.
“Ready?” Safa asked.
“Yes. Thank you.” Maisy followed the publicist and Xander out to the car they’d ridden in yesterday. The same driver was already waiting in the front seat. As they settled into the back, he started the engine and they pulled out of the driveway.
“Where are we going snorkeling?” Maisy asked.
“Gold Beach. A boat will take you out to the best reefs and then bring you back when you’re done.”
Despite her headache and her annoyance, Maisy felt her spirits rise at the mention of Gold Beach. She’d seen a few pictures of it on social media and knew that the snorkeling was truly spectacular.
As they drove along the island’s main road toward the beach, Maisy rolled down the window. The smell of fresh, salty air perfumed with hints of coconut made her smile, as did the stunning views of azure water and white sand. They drove through town, where a few tourists and locals caught sight of them and waved. Maisy waved back. They might have recognized her and her husband from the newspapers — or perhaps they were just friendly. The day was beautiful enough that Maisy could almost believe the latter.
Eventually, they began to climb a hill. Near the top, the driver parked the car in an empty lot, and Maisy got out.
“We booked off the beach for the two of you,” Safa explained. “But just because there shouldn’t be many tourists doesn’t mean you two can drop the charade. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Xander gave a salute, and Maisy tried to hide a snort of laughter. Safa really was the kind of person Maisy would call ma’am, if she weren’t too intimidated.
Safa began to lecture them about the protocol for the outing, but Maisy struggled to focus. The parking lot looked out over the ocean far below and it was a wondrous sight. As soon as Safa finished her spiel, Maisy hurried to the edge of the cliff. There she saw the beginning of a set of steep stairs leading down to a beach that really was golden-hued. Just off the coast, a small speedboat had been moored — probably theirs.
“Shall we head down, my bride?” Xander appeared beside Maisy and held out his arm.
“I don’t think we have to go that far. No one’s here.” She stepped away from him and began descending the steep stairs on her own. As they neared the bottom, the steps became increasingly rickety and Maisy wished she’d taken Xander’s arm after all. Not that she would admit anything of the sort.
On the beach, Maisy walked ahead a little and dropped to the ground. Carefully, she scooped a handful of the golden sand and let it sift through her fingers.
