The Billionaire's Island Bride

Traitor.

“Marvin, come,” she called. But Marvin was too busy having his ears rubbed to pay much attention. Brooklyn sighed and went toward the two men, both to get Marvin and to satisfy her curiosity about what was going on.

“I’d say you’re spoiling him, but I’m not sure it’s possible to spoil a dog with pats,” she said, trying to be friendly. Things had been tense during their earlier conversation. Establishing a little peace didn’t mean she’d changed her mind.

“He’s hard to resist. What a friendly guy.” Cole’s tone left a hint of insinuation, perhaps that her dog was more amiable than she was. Which was true.

“Is there a problem or something?” She stared pointedly at the other man, who was now at the end of the dock, writing something on a clipboard.

“Oh, Mike. Hey, Mike, come meet Brooklyn Graves. We share docking privileges.”

Mike came over and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Brooklyn.”

Cole turned to her. “Mike’s going to make some repairs and mods to the dock. It doesn’t quite suit my needs.”

Her heart stuttered. Sure, the dock was old but it was sturdy and sound. She adjusted her packages and briefly shook Mike’s hand. “What sort of needs?”

Cole answered. “Your boat’s small, but I need to be able to accommodate bigger vessels. I’ve hired Mike to expand it and also make any repairs necessary.”

She wanted to be angry, and she would be later, but right now all she felt was shock and amazement at his audacity. “Um, you do remember that we share the dock, right?”

He bestowed another one of those charming smiles on her. “Well, of course. I’m sure Mike will have no trouble splitting the invoice between us.”

Another layer of shock rippled through her. Share the cost? How was she supposed to pay for that? A hole opened up in her middle, the place where worry and panic seemed to live. The hole was soon filled with indignation.

“You can’t do that without consulting me first.”

At her sharp tone, Marvin moved away from Cole and went to sit at her heel. Mike discreetly left the conversation and continued on with his assessment.

“Oh. Well, I could just foot the bill, if...”

Her mouth tightened as she finally let the anger in. “If I sell to you, right? That’s what this is all about? I won’t sell so you’re going to bankrupt me with foolish repairs?” She mentally calculated her equity between the house, business and her savings account, and lifted her chin. “Do I need to consult my lawyer on this, Mr. Abbott?”

She was reasonably sure that he couldn’t just do repairs without getting her to sign off on them. But he’d make sure she spent legal fees to guarantee it, wouldn’t he? Fire burned in her veins. Why did successful, rich people always have to get their own way and swing their power around like a mace?

“Now, Ms. Graves...”

She stepped back. “Don’t you dare Ms. Graves me, especially in that patronizing tone. At this rate, Mister Abbott...” she paused and let the emphasis on the word ring in the air. “...I would not sell to you for a million dollars. Or two million. My great-grandparents were the first people to live on this island. My great-grandfather was a fisherman, like his father before him. My grandparents lived here and brought up five children. I spent every summer as a kid here and I know each square foot of it better in my sleep than you ever will. Maybe our family doesn’t own the entire island anymore, but my corner of it is still mine. And I am not for sale.”

Her hands were shaking, so she clutched the boxes tighter as she stared at him.

“Noted,” he said quietly.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to get on my boat and pilot it to the mainland. Marvin, come.”

This time Marvin obeyed immediately, falling in at her heel without need of a leash or a second urging.

She made it to the boat with sure steps, got them both aboard and stowed her bag and parcels. It wasn’t until she’d untied from the dock and steered away that she relaxed her shoulders and tried to suck in big, calming gulps of air.

She was okay. This was not the same as...that other time. He did not have a weapon and she was not in danger. Her body response had been triggered but she worked her way through the reaction until she wasn’t shaking any longer. She looked over her shoulder and couldn’t see the dock anymore, or Cole and Mike. It was almost as if it had never happened.

No, Cole Abbott hadn’t threatened her person. Instead, he had threatened her security and the life she’d built for herself. Maybe it wasn’t as frightening as an assault on a visceral level, but the idea of change was terrifying to her.

How many times was someone supposed to start over? Maybe in the past she’d given up too easily. Well, not this time. This time she would fight tooth and nail to preserve what was important to her. And if that meant dipping into her very small savings account for a visit to the lawyer, then that was what she’d do.

Cole had messed up again. He’d planned on the conversation with Brooklyn going differently. The idea had been for him to do the dock repairs as a gesture of goodwill. But he’d teased, and she’d taken him seriously, bringing legal advice into it. He’d miscalculated.

Now he too was on the mainland, sitting in his best friend, Jeremy Fisher’s rather large kitchen, drinking coffee and feeling grouchy about it all. His other pal, Branson Black, was back in New York, dealing with getting his brownstone ready to sell. While Jeremy was settled with his new wife and baby, Branson’s love life was up in the air since the departure of artist Jessica Blundon, who had spent the summer on the south shore.

Cole’s love life was nonexistent, and he was okay with that. For now, anyway. He had too much going on to devote much time to a relationship. Even a casual one. And he wasn’t sure he was capable of any other kind. It wasn’t like he’d had a stellar example growing up.

“So she threatened to go to her lawyer?” Jeremy reentered the kitchen, his baby daughter on his arm. She’d just awakened from a nap, and Jeremy’s wife, Tori, was running errands. It was still an adjustment, seeing his friend so settled into domestic life.

“I know. I meant to tell her that I would cover the cost since I was the one needing the modifications, but she got the jump on me and I took the bait. She’s very prickly about the fact I made her an offer.” He took a sip of his coffee. “This morning she told me she wouldn’t sell for two million dollars.”

Jeremy laughed. “Well, it’s her home. And clearly she’s attached to it. What’s the big deal, anyway? It’s not like there isn’t enough room for the two of you. You’re not even going to be there all year round.”

Cole thought about it. “I’ll be honest. Some of it is ego. I mean, I don’t like being told no and I look at it as an extra challenge to get my way.”

Jeremy met his gaze, his eyes alight with humor. “How very self-aware of you. But gee, Cole, you were never competitive in school.”

“I see you haven’t lost your talent for sarcasm,” Cole answered. “And hey, I know that trait can be a strength or a weakness, depending on the situation. She’s not what I expected.”

“How so?”

“You said she ran some sort of business from her home, knitting or some such. I was expecting someone...hell, someone not young and pretty and...”

His voice trailed off. The truth was, as infuriating as their two conversations had been, he had found them invigorating.

Jeremy’s laughter drew him back to the moment. He held Rose in one arm as he prepped a bottle with his free hand. “So she’s pretty.”

Cole sighed. “To be honest? Stunning. Beautiful hair, big eyes, nice body. But it’s more than that. She’s a strong woman, Jer. She’s got to be, to live out there by herself. It’s not far offshore but it’s cut off from everything, especially in bad weather. She hopped on that boat today and steered away the way we’d get in a car and drive to the store.”

“Ah. A woman who is capable and doesn’t need rescuing. Interesting.”

“Shut up.” He took a long drink of coffee and grinned behind the rim. A bit of ribbing from his best friend made the world seem all right after all.

Rose was grumbling, so Jeremy tested the bottle and then began to feed her, standing right there in the kitchen. Cole was not good with babies. Not even a little. But even he had to admit that Rose was cute. There’d been a recent health scare as she’d contracted measles, but she seemed completely recovered now.

“So what’s your game plan now?” Jeremy asked, perching on a bar stool across the counter from Cole.

“I don’t know. She’d see right through flowers or some sort of gift. Maybe I should just apologize and do a better job of explaining.”

Jeremy looked at him for a long moment. “Cake. Take her cake. Or a bottle of wine or something. Just don’t go empty-handed. And yeah, maybe explain that you got off on the wrong foot.”

Cole considered for a minute. “Good suggestions. Or at least half of a good suggestion. I have an idea for the other.”

“You sure you’re not interested in her?” Jeremy asked, removing the bottle and wiping Rose’s chin before giving her the bottle again. “When was the last time you went on a date?”

Cole’s smile slipped away. The last time had been over a year ago, just before his world had come crashing down.

Not that anyone really knew anything about that. He’d been able to hide it really well. Faking his way through stuff was his specialty. Even Bran and Jeremy didn’t know the true extent of what had happened.

“It’s been a long time. But no, that would just get messy, wouldn’t it? Besides, as you say, I’m only planning to be here part of the year. I do still have Abbott to run.”

And that required him to be in New York. Not on an island in the Atlantic off the coast of Nova Scotia. The island was to be his retreat. And hopefully he could offer the same to his own executives.

The hum of the garage door opener interrupted the silence. “Tori’s home. Are you staying for dinner?”

Cole looked at his watch and then shook his head. “Naw, but thanks. I have those errands to run and then pick up the boat. I’m leaving the car at the marina garage.” He looked up as Tori came inside, a bag of produce in her hands. “Hello, gorgeous.”

“Hey, Cole. How are things on the island?”

Jeremy jumped in. “The farmhouse owner is a hottie.”

“Of course she is. Brooklyn has a really neat business, too. She runs an online store and ships all over. Knitted items but she also dyes her own yarn and sells it. And her big thing is patterns. She develops patterns and sells them. One was even picked up by some big magazine last year. She’s wicked smart. Her overhead is really low and she doesn’t have a mortgage since she inherited the house from her grandparents.”

Cole stared at her. “You knew?”

Tori laughed and started taking vegetables out of the bag. “Of course I knew. This is a small town and I’ve lived in the area my whole life.”

“You didn’t say anything in the summer, when we went over there.”

“Why should I? You were buying the rest of the land, not hers.” Her brows pulled together in confusion. “Why? What happened?”

Jeremy put the bottle down and put Rose up on his shoulder as he patted her back. “Cole offered to buy her out, and made her pretty angry from the sounds of it. She threatened to lawyer up.”

Tori nodded. “Good for her. That place means a lot to her.”

“It does?”

Tori seemed to hesitate, her hand resting on a large bundle of leeks. “It’s been in her family a long time,” she finally said. “And Brooklyn moved there permanently a few years ago.”

Cole thought about it. The only reason he could see for moving somewhere so isolated was if someone was running from something. He certainly was, or at least using it to shape his life differently. But what could someone like Brooklyn be running from?

“I’d better go. Thanks for the coffee, bro. I’ll be in touch soon.”

“Good luck. And stop in any time.”

“Let me know when Branson is back. I’m kinda worried about the guy.”

“Me, too.”

Cole stopped and gave Tori a kiss on the cheek, then made his way to the front door and put on his shoes.

Maybe he’d messed up the first two times he’d encountered Ms. Graves, but the third time could be the charm. And he knew just what he had to do to get past her thorny exterior.

CHAPTER THREE

THE DAY AWAY hadn’t settled Brooklyn’s thoughts, so she spent the next morning cooking. She did this every few weeks, making large quantities and then freezing in portion-size dishes. Cooking for one could be a lonely enterprise, but spending a day in the kitchen fed her soul as well as her body.

Today it was her grandmother’s baked beans, done in her slow cooker, and fish cakes. She’d do them up and freeze them, and then fry a few off for tonight’s dinner. Combined with the chow she’d just made this summer—a Maritime recipe of pickled green tomatoes—and she’d have the perfect dinner.

She was also making four small pans of lasagna, and a curried squash soup from the butternut squash in her garden.

As she put the squash in the pot, she figured she must be out of sorts indeed. This was enough food to feed her for weeks.

Her kitchen was a mess but the lasagnas were baking in the oven, the beans were bubbling, and it all smelled delicious. Two loaves of fresh bread were on the counter; mixing and kneading had helped her work out some of her frustration.

It was only eleven thirty when there was a knock and Marvin leaped up from his doggie bed, rushing to the door and barking the whole time.

It had to be Cole. There was literally no one else it could be.

She steeled herself, wiped her hands on her apron and went to the door. There was no sense pretending she wasn’t home. Besides, she’d popped in to her lawyer’s yesterday for a quick chat. She was going to look into the legalities and get back to Brooklyn in a few days. Even if Cole had the dock assessed, any work wouldn’t start for a while.

She opened the door and tried to look polite.

“Hi,” he said. “I come in peace.”

She lifted an eyebrow. She couldn’t escape the notion that there was always something behind his charm. “Oh?”

He held out his hands. One held a paper bag that she recognized from the baker in town. The other was from a pet store in Mahone Bay.

“Wine and cake for you, and something for Marvin, because he’s a very good boy.”

Okay, so charm aside, complimenting Marvin was the same as telling a mother her kid was great. It was the easiest way to get in her good graces. “I suppose you should come in, then.” She stood aside.

Cole entered while Marvin danced in circles around him. She wished her dog didn’t seem to like the guy so much. At first glance, Cole seemed to be dressed normally. Casually. Until she looked at the fine wool of his sweater and the rich leather of his shoes. There was no forgetting how stupid rich he had to be. After all, he’d bought most of the island and hadn’t batted an eye at the idea of giving her a million dollars for her small corner of it.

“My God, it smells heavenly in here.” He handed her the bag and then courteously removed his shoes and left them on the mat. “I heard you were a knitter. But apparently you’re a cook, too.”

She would not be charmed. She would not.

“It’s messy at the moment. I tend to cook in batches and freeze it.”

She put the bag on an empty space of counter and removed the wine and cake. A lovely crisp white, and a small but gorgeous lemon cream cake. She did love lemon.

“Thank you,” she said, putting the wine in the fridge. “It wasn’t necessary.”

“But it was.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Ms. Graves, we got off on the wrong foot, and that’s my fault. What I should have said yesterday was that I would foot the bill for any changes to the dock. I’m the one who wants them, and it wouldn’t be fair for me to ask you to pay half of that.” He took a small step forward. “I know you aren’t happy about me being here. But I promise, I’m not out to do you harm.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. He seemed very genuine and contrite.

“The previous owners and I got along very well,” she admitted. “Before that, my grandparents owned the whole island. But then my grandfather got sick and needed a lot of care. Care he couldn’t get here on the island, of course, and it put a financial strain on them. Ernest bought it, minus this parcel of land, and rented this house for two years before he built the grand house on the bluff. He set up the conditions for the shared dock and made sure we were taken care of. I understand why he sold. But it was a good relationship built on trust.” She met his gaze evenly. “You haven’t built up that trust.”

“Yet,” he said, and didn’t smile. He seemed to be taking everything she said very seriously. “Maybe if I tell you my plans for the property, it’ll put your mind at ease.”

The squash was nearly done, so she motioned toward the table and chairs. “I’ve got to finish this up, but please have a seat. Would you like a coffee?” There was still half a pot left.

“I’d like that a lot. Just black for me.”

She poured him a cup and put it before him, and then went to test the squash and add the remainder of the ingredients. She tried to ignore how he was watching her as she poured the mixture over into her food processor and whizzed it until it was velvety smooth, and then poured it back over into the pot.

“What is that?” he asked. “It smells amazing.”

“Curried squash soup. Do you cook, Mr. Abbott?”

He sighed. “Can we maybe forgo the formalities? Just call me Cole.”

“All right.” She didn’t extend the offer to use her first name, though she suspected he would, eventually, anyway. She didn’t want to be friends with him, but he had brought a peace offering and she appreciated his putting her mind at ease about the dock. Maybe, just maybe, she’d been a little hyper-defensive.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I cook a little. But I’m better at buying stuff that’s already prepped. I, uh, didn’t really have to cook for myself growing up.”

She snorted. “I kind of figured that about you. Let me guess. Private school? Trust fund baby?”

“Something like that.” He shrugged. “But just to clarify, I’ve had to work my way to where I am. I absolutely had advantages because of family money. Hopefully I didn’t waste any of them.”

She turned around to look at him. There was something in the set of his jaw and behind his eyes that spoke of a deeper story. She wondered what it was. She should not dismiss him as an idle rich jerk. Everyone had their own story, didn’t they?

“So buying this island...it isn’t a whim or a toy for you?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not. I bought it for a few reasons. I’ll tell you if you’re interested in hearing about them.”

He took a long drink of his coffee and Brooklyn looked at the clock. It was just shy of noon.

“I guess I’d better spoon up some of this soup then, shouldn’t I?”

She reached into the cupboard for two bowls and wondered if hearing him out was the right thing to do. Because right now it felt a bit dangerous.

Cole wasn’t sure why he was ready to confide in Brooklyn or why he felt this pressing need to have her understand or think well of him. They’d got off to a rocky start and she certainly wasn’t a friend or even someone he could really trust.

But he wanted to tell her, to disabuse the notion that he hadn’t just bought the island as a toy or new thing on an acquisitions list. Besides, he was looking forward to hosting his first retreat in a few weeks, just a small gathering of executives from his own companies. Nothing formal, just four days of unplugging, sea air, good food. A time to slow down.

Brooklyn put a bowl of the delicious-smelling soup in front of him, and then went to the kitchen island and grabbed a loaf of fresh bread, a cutting board and a knife. She sliced it right there at the table, handed him a slice and put a crock of butter beside him.

The bread was still slightly warm and smelled like heaven.

“So. You have plans for the property. Do tell.”

She got a second bowl and joined him at the table.

Cole went to work spreading butter on his bread. “A while ago I had a bit of a...well, I don’t want to say a breakdown. It was more burnout, I guess. I’d been working sixty hour weeks for as long as I could remember, and then my social life... Well, I don’t do anything half way. I’m not a partier or anything, but I’d do dinners and events and just... I never took any downtime.” He broke off a piece of bread and popped it into his mouth. Amazing. A quick glance told him that Brooklyn was watching him intently, her eyes focused on his and her brow slightly furrowed as if she were trying to puzzle him out.

“Burning the candle at both ends,” she said.

“Exactly. Until the flame got snuffed out. I was exhausted. Then one morning I woke up and I had chest pains. It scared the hell out of me.”

She had picked up her spoon but now she put it down again. “Did you have a heart attack? But you’re only what, thirty-five? Forty?”

He grinned. “Thirty-five, if you must know, and no, thankfully it wasn’t a heart attack. It was a panic attack.”

“Thank goodness,” she said and picked up her spoon again.

He did the same and tasted the soup. It was velvety smooth and divine. He’d eaten in Michelin-starred restaurants and this simple soup could stand with the best of them. “This is amazing.”

“It’s the coconut milk. I stir a little in at the end, too, and it makes it pop.” She looked at him over her spoon. “So, you had a panic attack.”

“It wasn’t an isolated thing. My friend Branson said that it was my body’s way of telling me I needed to slow down and I needed to listen. I didn’t have any choice. I could hardly get out of bed in the morning. I was tired all the time. I didn’t believe him, you know? I thought I had some horrible disease. Turns out it was workaholism.”

“So you bought the house.”

“I’m getting there.” He spooned up more of the soup like it was a tonic, which maybe it was. Simple, wholesome nourishment. Perfection. “It took me a long time to recover. Thankfully, I had strong executives in place, but the whole thing could have been avoided if I’d done a better job at balancing my workload. I didn’t take time off until my own body forced me to. So I bought the house for a few reasons. One, it’s a getaway for me, and one that is close to my two best friends, who bought places on the south shore. The other reason is that I don’t want what happened to me to happen to other executives. I’m going to hold corporate retreats. First for my own people, and then for other companies.”

He didn’t mention how dark a place his burnout had been, though. How he’d felt so alone and questioned his existence. Wondering if anyone would miss him because other than Branson and Jeremy, he hadn’t nurtured any relationships in his life. Especially romantic ones. His parents had put on a brilliant public face but in private they were strangers. If that was marriage, he didn’t want any part of it.

Brooklyn frowned. “It’s a neat idea, for sure. I’m going to be honest, though. It makes me uncomfortable thinking about strangers roaming about the island all the time.” She stirred her soup as if deliberating something, then looked up again. “You’re creating an oasis for people, which is admirable. But in doing so, you’re threatening mine. It’s a hard pill to swallow.”

He hadn’t thought of it that way. But of course. Every time he held a retreat, there would be strangers on the beaches, walking the island, on the boat launch. He could understand how that made her uneasy. Maybe it would convince her to sell to him after all?