This Man Confessed(114)

Paradise.

When I think that I’ve taken it all in, I turn my attention back to Jesse, finding him sitting on the bonnet of the DBS, legs stretched and crossed at the ankles. His arms are folded over his chest, too. And he’s smiling. “What’s my beautiful girl thinking?”

My hand reaches out and pulls a stray leaf from the shrubbery hanging from some trellis on the veranda. I smell it and sigh. “I’m thinking that I’ve just officially arrived on Central Jesse Cloud Nine.”

“Where?” The confusion and amusement in his tone is clear.

I grin, drop the leaf, and start running toward him, only vaguely registering his increased amusement as he stands and readies himself for my attack. I launch myself at him, my body taking up the usual baby-monkey-style hold, and I tackle his mouth, full of enthusiasm. He doesn’t stop me. He holds me under my bum and smiles around my brute force.

“It’s my most favorite place in the world,” I say, easing up on his lips and looking down at him, noticing immediately that his Wayfarers are still fixed to his face. I pull them off so I can see all of him.

“Are you happy?” he asks.

“Delirious.” I thread my fingers through his hair and give it my usual little tug.

“Then my work here is done.” His mouth goes to my neck and bites lightly before he disconnects me from his body. “Let me get the cases.”

“I’ll help,” I say, automatically following him to the rear of the car but immediately backing off when he turns and flashes me a cautionary look. “Okay, I won’t help.” I hold my hands up and fetch my bag from the car instead, then follow Jesse to the single-story villa.

He drops the cases briefly while he unlocks the door, and then I’m ushered in to complete darkness, with only slices of light penetrating the gaps between the closed shutters. I can’t see much, but I can smell, and that perfume is rife inside, too, the potency incredible and lingering everywhere.

“Wait here,” Jesse instructs, dumping the cases by the door and disappearing outside again. I stand, gazing around the walls for a light switch, but I can’t see a thing, even with the faint light pouring in from the doorway. And then it’s like a spotlight has hit a blackened stage when a sudden gush of sunlight shoots across the room and collides with the wall opposite. Then there’s another, and another, then another. I watch as the space transforms into a busy crossroads of light lines until there’s no more darkness, just sunlight streaming in from every window and door. My sensitive eyes want to close, but it’s impossible when there is so much to focus on. The walls are smooth and white, the floor is laid in giant honey-colored flagstones, with cream rugs scattered randomly, and a giant U-shaped couch facing the doors that lead to a pool surrounded by bright green grass. And beyond that, a beach.

“Oh wow,” I breathe out, walking tentatively forward, my excitement building the closer I get. Before I know it, I’ve crossed the terrace, padded my way over the lawn, and I’m standing, fiddling with a cast-iron gate that’s getting between me and the beach.

“Here.” Jesse’s hand is suddenly on mine, and a key is inserted into the lock, opening the gate and allowing me to pass through.

Ten wooden sleepers formed as steps and covered in sand and grass take me down to the beach. It’s deserted, and as I look each way for any sign of life, I realize we’re in a bay. There are no other properties in sight—no beach bars, no hotels, not anything. It really is just us, this beautiful villa, and the midnight-blue warmth of the Mediterranean.

“Still on Central Jesse Cloud Nine?” he whispers in my ear, slipping his forearm around the tops of my shoulders and pulling me back to rest against his chest.

“I am. Where are you?”

“Me?” he asks, kissing my cheek softly and sliding his palm onto my tummy. “Baby, I’m in paradise.”

I close my eyes on a contented smile and sink into his body, my hand finding his on my stomach, our fingers intertwining and feeling each other. Central Jesse Cloud Nine really is Paradise.





We spend the rest of the afternoon unpacking and taking delivery of groceries, and Jesse gives me a guided tour, showing me the six en-suite bedrooms, all with doors leading to a different part of the veranda. The kitchen, which is white and modern, has wooden stained worktops and little touches like the suspended wooden grid with cast-iron pans hanging over the cooking area to maintain the rustic feel of the villa. As an interior designer, I’m in awe. I couldn’t have done a better job myself. The bedrooms are all plain-walled, but with sumptuous fabrics dressing the beds and billowing voile hanging at the windows. Sporadically placed canvases take the edge off the sparseness and all of the randomly placed rugs break up the vastness of the flagstone flooring that runs through the entire villa.