Bring It On. Kira Sinclair
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“I do if I want any clothes to wear on the island. I wonder how long it took my mother to realize she could hand Wyn the perfect excuse to make me see him.”
Not long, Colt guessed. The woman was flighty, but she was also calculating. From everything Lena had told him about her childhood—which wasn’t much—he’d gathered her mother had spent her entire life moving from man to man—and dragging Lena behind her. Her only valuable skills seemed to be charming and wheedling her way into whatever she wanted.
The minute Lena opened the door, Wyn pushed past her. However, he slammed to a halt the minute he saw Colt. With a dark scowl on his face, he said, “What’s he doing here?”
Colt knew Wyn had never liked him, but then the feeling had been mutual, so he didn’t exactly hold that against him. What he did have a problem with was the way he’d treated Lena.
She deserved better.
“Give me one good reason. That’s all I need,” Colt promised in a calm and even voice, taking a menacing step towards him.
Lena inserted herself in the middle, splitting a hard stare between them. Tension simmered as they both glared across the top of Lena’s head.
“Stop it, both of you.”
Wyn took a step forward, but she planted her hand hard into the center of his chest, stopping him in his tracks. The minute her palm collided with him, she recoiled. A knowing smirk touched Colt’s lips and he enjoyed the way Wyn’s mouth tightened into a hard line.
“Thanks for returning my suitcase. You can go now.”
Wyn tried to reach for her, but she scooted backward, straight into Colt. For a minute she jerked the other way, but as soon as her mind caught up and she realized he wasn’t a threat, she leaned gratefully against the solid line of his body.
“Lena, we need to talk,” Wyn said, grinding the words out between clenched teeth.
“I have nothing to say.”
“Okay, then just listen.”
“I don’t want to hear it. All I want is for you to leave.”
“Look, we still have the honeymoon. Why don’t we go away? See if we can fix this. I mean, see if I can fix this.”
Lena shook her head, sadness clouding her eyes. Colt wanted to rush to her defense, to stand between them both and defend her, but he realized she didn’t need his help. She was perfectly capable of handling this on her own. She’d always been a strong woman—it was something he admired about her.
“I’m not going anywhere with you. I am, however, taking the trip that you promised me. I think it’s the least that you owe me. A chance to get away, sort through some things. Maybe after I get back I’ll be ready to talk to you, but don’t think for a second that means I’ll ever take you back. I experienced enough dysfunctional, toxic relationships with my mother. I have no intention of falling into one myself.”
A hard glint entered Wyn’s eyes. He wasn’t happy, but then there wasn’t much he could do about it. What did it say about Colt that he delighted in seeing the other man thwarted?
“What if I just show up?”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Besides, I’m not going alone. Colt is coming with me.”
Wyn’s body bowed tight with anger. Colt had no doubt that it was barely in check. Taking a deliberate step forward, Colt drew Wyn’s glittering gaze.
“I always knew there was something more between you two.”
Lena let out an exasperated sound, as if this was ground they’d covered more than once and she was sick of traveling it. “How many times do I have to tell you? There’s nothing between us. Hell, I barely see him. Don’t paint me with your brush just because you’re feeling guilty at being caught.”
Wyn’s teeth ground together. Colt could hear them from where he stood several feet away. If the man had come here to beg forgiveness, he certainly had an ass-backward way of doing it. But Colt had no intention of pointing that out.
“Fine. Enjoy your trip.” Looking Colt square in the eyes, Wyn said, “I hope you get sunburned.”
Colt delighted in being able to smile at him and promise, “Don’t worry about me. I never burn. And I swear I’ll keep Lena good and covered up. Or even better, out of the sun altogether. I wonder what else there is to do on a romantic tropical island besides swim?”
2
THE LAST TWENTY-FOUR HOURS had been hell. Sure, Colt had upgraded them both to first class but a delayed flight, two hours sitting on the tarmac, a missed connection and nine hours in the Atlanta airport were not how she’d envisioned the trip beginning. Of course, nothing about the past day had happened as planned.
But they were here now and that was what mattered.
The island was about forty-five minutes by ferry from St. Lucia. The ride over had been amazing—bright blue sky, therapeutic sunshine and a brisk tropical breeze that had helped to clear the jetlag cobwebs from her brain.
When Wyn had told her he’d booked them at Escape, Lena had checked the place out online. The resort, the only thing on Île du Coeur, had a volatile and romantic history. The small island had originally been a cocoa plantation but had been turned into a boutique resort about fifty years ago. It had been renovated, added onto, changed hands multiple times and let fall into disrepair until the current owner had purchased it almost three years ago. The place was now billed as an adult-only tropical retreat. Small and intimate, lush and seductive, perfect for a honeymoon.
Apparently, there was a local legend to the name of the place. Île du Coeur literally translated meant Heart Island. Supposedly, everyone who visited found their heart’s desire—whether it was what they were looking for or not. Lena had her doubts, but she had to admit that it was a great marketing angle.
Lena had been surprised that Wyn had sprung for the most expensive bungalow at an already pricey resort. The man came from money, but he was very careful about how he spent it. His frugal nature was one of the things that had attracted her to Wyn in the first place. Considering where she’d come from, that quality had been extremely important to Lena.
Her mother had been … erratic. Hell, she was still unreliable. Using her ethereal beauty and fragility, she’d spent her life conning a succession of men into taking care of her. But the arrangement was never permanent. It had been a good year if Lena didn’t have to change schools more than once. And that was assuming her mother actually enrolled her. Sure, she’d lived in Europe, Brazil, D.C., New York and possibly every state in between, and she’d hated every last second of it. Except for those few months with Colt and his family. That was the only time she’d ever felt that she belonged.
All she’d ever wanted was to find someplace permanent, to grow some roots. Someplace that wouldn’t change in the middle of the night when the wife discovered the mistress, and Lena and her mother were thrown out on their ear.
The