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Reunited on Wedding Island

Written by Sophie Pembroke

Chapter Twelve

Miles was starving, but he was damned if he was going to let on to Haven about that fact. Especially when he’d just cornered her into taking a walk with him. A walk around the most romantic island he’d ever visited.

If he was lucky enough to have a second chance at their date, he was determined to do it right.

“A walk. Right.” Haven gave a resigned sigh, then shimmied out of her mermaid tail, leaving her in short denim cut-offs. Miles stared at the long, lean legs below them.

He’d never have guessed she had legs like that under that tail.

Miles tried to remember what she’d worn for their disaster date, but all his recollections of the night seemed to focus on the irritating way she’d twirled her hair, the bored, privileged drone of her voice and the way she’d stared out of the window whenever he’d been talking.

Folding the tail carefully, she tucked it into the canvas backpack she had slung over her shoulder, then added the shell bra she removed, leaving her in a respectable bikini top that covered everything it should and still somehow seemed even sexier than it had any right to.

Pulling a white tank top from the bag, she threw it on over the bikini top, tugging the ends of her hair out from the neckline, and Miles remembered how to breathe again.

“What did you wear on our date?” he asked, before he could think it through.

Haven frowned at him. “A black dress, I think. Probably, anyway. That’s what I usually wear when I can’t get out of nights like that.”

Miles ignored the dig about their date, and tried to remember the dress. He couldn’t. “Was it short?”

“Does it matter?” When he didn’t respond, Haven rolled her eyes. “It was nondescript, probably. The sort of outfit that fades into the background.”

He still couldn’t remember it. But he was damn sure that Haven looked a thousand times sexier in casual shorts and a T-shirt, and white fabric sneakers that had been painted with mermaid scales.

“Come on. Let’s go,” she said, and Miles offered his arm automatically, feeling a little overdressed in his pale linen suit and open-necked white shirt.

They chose the path that led away from the wedding celebrations. La Isla Marina was only a mile or so across, as far as he could remember, so he figured it didn’t much matter which way they went—they’d never be too far away from the rest of the party.

The silence between them was comfortable, as relaxed as Haven’s outfit. The path wound down towards the beach, a clear route through all the sharp rocks and knife-edged grasses that bordered the beach. Looking at them, Miles remembered how close Haven and that little boy had been to tumbling down over them and suppressed a shudder.

Haven was obviously remembering the same moment. “Why did you jump in to rescue Bentley and me earlier?”

He looked at her with surprise. “Because you were going to fall.”

“Yes, but I could have protected him. Broken his fall.” Haven said it so matter-of-factly, he knew that was exactly what she’d intended to do before he leapt in.

Maybe that was what persuaded him to tell her the truth.

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Sophie Pembroke

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