Christmas at the Castello(22)

"Hot, wasn't it?" Her husband's husky taunt returned her focus to his  face. He was studying the heat staining her body a bright red. "It was  the most uninhibited I've ever seen you."

She pulled in a breath. "Behave."

"For now," he agreed, a pirate-like smile curving his lips. "This time I  want you very verbal, sweetheart, so I know I'm satisfying your  frustration to a suitable level."

Her stomach contracted. Skipping the party suddenly sounded like a good  idea to her, too, because his blunt seduction was going to have her in  tatters after an entire evening of it.

"But first," her husband drawled, nixing that idea as he stepped back and reached into his pocket, "you need to put this on."

She stared at the shiny object sitting in his palm. The symbol of so  much happiness and angst housed in a plain, shiny gold band gleamed back  at her like a point of no return. Her wedding ring. Actually, her  second wedding ring if you were to be technical about it. The first  she'd lost scrubbing for surgery, something Coburn had never forgiven  her for.

"You kept it."

He picked up her left hand and slid the ring on her finger. She had  never seen the practicality of a large diamond with the job that she  had, so it had only ever been this simple band that had declared her  his.

Their gazes met and held as she looked up. "This time it stays, Diana. Through the good and the bad."

She wondered which would prevail for them. Coburn bent his head to her ear. "Stop thinking and enjoy the evening."

She gave it her best shot as he guided her to the car and drove up the  hillside to the fabulous Kent villa perched on the cliff. Her  speculation from that day in the sea was confirmed. The view from the  low-lying, Italian-inspired structure was outrageously stunning. Sheer  rock face plunged down to pristine, glittering stretches of golden-sand  beach, where white-foamed waves crashed up onto the shore in a testament  to the power of nature.

Coburn had told her Arthur had purchased the island for ten million  dollars five years ago. A ten-million-dollar view it certainly was.

A butler directed them to the terrace that overlooked the sea. Torches  burned brightly, illuminating a crowd of perhaps a dozen guests with  champagne glasses in their hands. The wealthy elite of Arthur's world,  Diana pegged them, the perfectly coiffed hairstyles of the women and the  exquisite cocktail dresses they wore as casually as if they'd stuck a  hand in the closet and thrown on the first thing they came up with,  telling. As were the jewels that sparkled from their well-tanned skin.

A tall, thin man with an elegant stature broke away from the group and  came toward them, a smile on his face. His features were expressive  rather than handsome, a crooked nose highlighting his sharply drawn,  aristocratic features. Arthur Kent, she surmised, from the warm greeting  he gave her husband.         

     



 

Inquisitive hazel eyes turned to her. She had the sensation of being  thoroughly analyzed before Arthur bent and pressed a kiss to both her  cheeks. "So I finally get to meet the lovely Diana."

"You have a very beautiful home," she said smoothly. "Thank you for allowing us to visit."

He lifted a hand. "You are welcome anytime. I keep telling Coburn that,  but he is too caught up in the rush of being a big-time CEO now to take  me up on it."

"Not too busy to pick your brain tonight," Coburn responded, a wry smile curving his lips. "I would like to if you don't mind."

She wondered if her husband wanted to ask Arthur for his advice on  whatever was happening at Grant that was making him so distracted. She  wasn't to find out as Arthur's wife, Dana, joined them along with their  two young boys. Nine and seven, Maciah and James were utterly charming  miniature versions of their dark-haired British mother, who was easily  twenty years younger than the airline magnate. A trophy wife, she  wondered, because surely she was stunning, but Diana quickly saw it was  much more than that. The Kents were a vivacious, happy clan who had  moved to the island upon Arthur's early retirement to escape the  pressures of their former life. It was clear they had learned the secret  of living, and it was not based on how much money they had in the bank.

When Arthur told the sports-obsessed boys Coburn had played competitive  soccer in school, they pleaded with her husband to kick a ball around  the yard. Never one to resist a sporting activity of any ilk, Coburn  passed his drink to her and good-naturedly trailed after the two  rambunctious boys.

"You don't have a drink," Dana commented. "Shall I get you a glass of champagne?"

"Actually, orange juice and soda would be lovely."

A speculative glimmer entered her hostess's eyes but she was too polite  to comment. She went off to retrieve the drink from the bartender while  Diana and Arthur watched the boys chase Coburn around the yard. Her  husband expertly faked and deked, keeping the ball out of their  possession with tricks that made them laugh and chase harder. The  tension faded from his face for the first time in days as he laughed  along with them.

"He's good with children." Arthur rested his forearms on the railing  and watched the game. "He told me once he wasn't sure he wanted any. I  thought that strange given his love of life. He jumps into everything  with his head and heart fully immersed, damn the consequences. It's a  great example for a child. Fear kills so many dreams."

How true. It had stifled hers until she'd identified what she truly  wanted out of life, and that was to work with kids. To do something  exceptional with her skills in Africa, where too many were denied basic  health care. And perhaps, she thought, it had killed her marriage the  first time around because Coburn was right. His ability to see through  her made her feel naked and vulnerable. His ability to make her feel  terrifying. It was why she'd run away. She knew that now.

Her husband let out a roar of laughter as the two boys pulled on his  pant leg to try to bring him to the ground, fierce determination on  their young faces. He would be a good father. With Coburn, life was an  adventure waiting to happen. His joie de vivre when she'd met him had  been so opposite to her own careful, controlled nature that she had been  blown away by it. Amazed someone could live in the present like that  when she'd known as a teenager what her next two decades would look  like.

But somewhere along the way their separate agendas had collided and her  husband's lust for life had gone from being charming to infuriating.  Now with more pressure on him than ever before and saddled with a baby  he hadn't even wanted, how would he react? Would it be too much for  them?

She swallowed past the knot in her throat. She couldn't think like  that. She had to be positive about this if it was ever going to work.



"They tire you out?"

Arthur joined Coburn on the lawn as he held his hands up, declaring himself done with the impromptu soccer game.         

     



 

"They're fast little devils," Coburn conceded, taking the cold beer  Arthur handed him. "I haven't been to the gym nearly enough since I took  over Grant."

Arthur tipped his glass at him. "It's all consuming, isn't it? Why do  you think I got out when I did? The secret is balance, my friend, and  it's not easy to find."

Coburn took a long sip of his beer and stared out at the jaw-dropping view of the vast blue horizon. "Ever handle a recall?"

His mentor nodded. "More than I would have liked. You up against one?"

He nodded. It was highly confidential, early days yet, but he knew with  Arthur it would go no further. "It could be a big one. Any advice?"

"Get out in front of it. Get the facts, make your assessment, and if  you have blame to take, carry it with big shoulders. These can make or  break a company's reputation."

He knew it. He wasn't sleeping because of it.

He picked Arthur's brain on his experiences until the internet  billionaire from the neighboring island stole Arthur away for a  discussion on boats. His wife was standing with their hostess and two  other women on the far side of the patio. He joined them just in time to  catch the tail end of a discussion of Caribbean real estate as the  wives of the internet baron and a software CEO debated their favorite  islands.

"Do you have a preference, Diana?" the diminutive, very beautiful internet baron's wife asked.

Diana smiled. "I love the Turks and Caicos. My parents have a place  there. Unfortunately it would be difficult to live in the Caribbean with  my profession."

"Oh. You work?"

His wife stiffened under the hand he held to her back. "I do. I'm a surgeon in New York."

"A surgeon?" The CEO's wife wrinkled her brow. "You mean a ‘cut people open with a knife' kind of surgeon?"

"Exactly that," his wife confirmed. "With a purpose in mind, of course."

The other woman didn't seem to get his wife's dry sense of humor. "That's very...impressive. I bet Coburn is wowed by you."