The morning sun had barely begun to bake the salt into the white limestone of the villa when Roman's phone vibrated against the bedside table. He was already awake, propped up on one elbow, watching the steady rise and fall of Skye's shoulders as she slept in the aftermath of their long night.
He snatched the phone before the second ring could wake her.
"Thorne," he murmured, his voice like grinding gravel.
"Roman, it's Young. I just got off with Patricia's legal counsel," his lawyer's voice crackled through the encrypted line. "She's pushing for the first supervised visit today. She knows you're still on the island and she's suggesting a 'neutral' beach day. She's claiming she wants to see him in his element- sun, sand, no pressure."
Roman's jaw tightened. He looked at Skye, then toward the door where he knew Adam was likely already playing with his toy planes. The idea of Patricia encroaching on their private paradise made his blood simmer, but he knew the legal dance. If he denied a "reasonable" request for a public, supervised meeting, it would look like parental alienation in a court of law.
"Fine," Roman snapped. "But it happens on the beach directly in front of my villa. My security detail will be the 'supervision.' Tell her she has two hours. Noon sharp."
He hung up and felt a soft hand rest on his lower back. Skye was awake, her eyes clouded with the lingering sleepiness of a woman who had been thoroughly loved.
"She wants to see him today, doesn't she?" Skye whispered.
Roman turned, pulling her into his chest, his arms caging her with a fierce, sudden need. "She's coming to the beach at noon. I'm sorry, Skye. I wanted this island to be just ours."
"It's okay," Skye said, though the knot of jealousy in her stomach tightened. "We knew this was coming. Let's just get it over with."
By noon, the Caribbean heat was a shimmering weight. The private stretch of sand in front of the villa was staged with umbrellas and coolers, and Roman's security team stood at a discreet distance, looking like tourists in linen but with the watchful eyes of hawks.
Tish arrived via a small water taxi. As she stepped onto the sand, she made sure all eyes were on her. She had shed her "reformed mother" cardigan from the fair and replaced it with a metallic golden bikini that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. The fabric was little more than strategically placed triangles, shimmering against her tanned, dark skin. She looked like a siren, an intentional contrast to the wholesome family image Skye had built.
Skye, standing by the water's edge with Adam, felt a sharp sting of inadequacy. She was wearing a deep royal blue bikini- a classic, elegant cut that complemented her pale skin and blonde hair, but it was modest compared to the gold-leaf display Tish was putting on.
"Hello, everyone!" Tish called out, her voice bright and melodic as she walked toward them, her hips swaying with practiced grace.
Adam looked up from the sandcastle he was building. He looked so much like a miniature version of Roman- the same sharp jawline, the same piercing blue eyes, that the only thing he had inherited from Tish was the wild, dark curls that were currently matted with salt and sand.
"Hi, Tish," Adam said, though he didn't run to her. He stayed tucked close to Skye's legs, his small hand reaching up to grab Skye's fingers.
"Oh, look at you!" Tish cooed, dropping to her knees in the sand. The golden bikini shifted dangerously, but she didn't seem to care. "You're getting so big, Adam. Do you want to come swim with me? I brought some cool goggles."
Adam looked at the goggles, then up at Skye. "Can Skye come too? She's the best at finding seashells underwater."
Tish's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, a flicker of irritation crossing her brown eyes before the mask was back in place. "Well, I thought maybe just you and me could go, since we have so much catching up to do."
"I want to stay with Skye," Adam said firmly, turning back to his sandcastle. "She's helping me build the moat."
The rejection was quiet but devastating. Skye felt a rush of warmth in her chest, the jealousy receding just a few inches. Adam wasn't choosing Tish's gold; he was choosing the woman who had wiped his tears and sung him to sleep.
"Why don't we all just sit under the umbrella for a bit?" Roman suggested, his voice cold and flat. He was standing a few feet back, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze never leaving Tish. He wasn't looking at the golden bikini; he was looking at her like she was a security threat he was waiting to neutralize.
They settled under the shade. Tish took the opportunity to sprawl out on a towel, her body on full display. Every time Roman moved to adjust an umbrella or grab a water from the cooler, she would lean back, arching her spine, her voice dropping into that sultry, intimate register she had used at the fair.
"It's so much hotter here than back home, isn't it, Roman?" Tish asked, shielding her eyes and looking up at him. "Remember that summer in the Hamptons? We used to spend all night on the deck because the bedroom was too warm."
Roman didn't even look at her. He kept his eyes on the water where Skye and Adam were now splashing in the shallows. "I remember a lot of things, Patricia. Most of them are the reasons why you're sitting on that side of the towel and not mine."
"You're still so guarded," she giggled, a sound that grated on Skye's nerves like sandpaper. "It's actually quite attractive. You've aged incredibly well, Roman. All that power suits you."
She reached out, her fingers trailing near his ankle as he stood by the cooler. Roman stepped back, his movement sharp and decisive, putting an extra foot of distance between them.
"Focus on the boy, Tish," Roman commanded. "That's why you're here."
Out in the waist-deep water, Skye watched the exchange. Even though she couldn't hear the words over the roar of the surf, she saw Roman's body language- the way he kept himself at an arm's length, the way he refused to acknowledge the golden lure Tish was dangling.
"Skye! Watch this!" Adam shouted, plunging his head into the water and doing a clumsy somersault. He surfaced, sputtering and grinning, and immediately lunged for Skye, wrapping his arms around her neck. "Did you see? I'm a dolphin!"
"You're the best dolphin in the ocean," Skye laughed, picking him up and spinning him around.
Tish watched them from the sand, her hands clenching into the towel. She tried to involve herself, calling out, "Adam! Come show me your dolphin dive!" but Adam just waved a hand and went back to splashing Skye.
"He really is a Thorne," Tish muttered, her voice sharp with bitterness. "Stubborn as a mule."
"He knows who his people are," Roman said, finally looking down at her. His voice was low, meant only for her ears. "You can wear all the gold in the world, Tish, but you're a stranger to him. You chose to be. Skye didn't. She walked into a storm to get to him. That's something he'll never forget, even if he's only five."
The visit continued for another hour, a grueling exercise in tension. Tish tried every trick in the book- light flirting, "accidental" touches, and feigned interest in Adam's toys, but she was met with a wall of stone from Roman and a wall of indifference from Adam.
When the water taxi finally returned to pick her up, Tish stood, adjusting her golden suit with a huff. She looked at Skye, her eyes narrowing with a look of pure, unadulterated envy.
"Enjoy it while it lasts, Skye," Tish said, her voice loud enough for the wind to carry. "Blood is thicker than water. Eventually, he'll want his real mother."
Skye stood her ground, her hand resting protectively on Adam's curly head. "Maybe. But until then, he has someone who actually stays. That's what he needs right now."
Roman stepped up behind Skye, his hand finding the small of her back, pulling her into his side. He didn't say a word to Tish; he simply watched her climb into the boat.
As the water taxi sped away, leaving a white wake in the turquoise water, the silence of the beach returned. Adam looked up at Roman, his little face scrunched in confusion.
"Daddy? Why was the golden lady so sad when she left?"
Roman knelt down, ruffling Adam's dark curls. "Because she realized she lost something she can't buy back, Ace. Now, go find those seashells. I think I saw a big one near the rocks."
Adam cheered and ran off, leaving Roman and Skye alone under the afternoon sun.
"You okay?" Roman asked, his thumb tracing the line of her royal blue bikini strap.
Skye leaned her head against his shoulder, the jealousy finally fading into a dull hum. "I'm okay. I think... I think I'm more than okay. He chose me, Roman. He kept coming back to me."
"Of course he did," Roman whispered, pulling her into a deep, possessive kiss that tasted of salt and truth. "He's a Thorne. We know exactly where our treasure is hidden."