Meanwhile later that day the target of the day lay comfortably on a sunbathing chair on the private beach of a rented villa along the coast.
The hotel rooms had been comfortable enough, yet they had never carried the sense of belonging he wanted for this stretch of days; money had simply become another tool, and he had used it without hesitation to secure the place.
He had refused to name the figure when Samantha pressed, watching the worry tighten her expression, but the others had settled in without complaint.
Amanda had claimed the built-in mini-bar as her personal domain within the first hour, while Miss Claire had drifted toward the private study, curiosity already drawing her into its quieter corners.
He let his eyes close for a moment, the salt air and the soft rush of the tide filling the spaces around him, until a shadow crossed the light.
Sylvia stepped into the space above him, blocking the sun, her bare feet silent on the warm sand.
