The Island Arrangement, page 1
the island arrangement
elouise tynan
ardently romance
THE ISLAND ARRANGEMENT
Copyright © 2024 by Elouise Tynan. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, organisations, and events portrayed in the novel are either productions of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Edited: Amy Maranville from Kraken Communications
Cover Design: Acacia from Ever After Cover Design
Published by Ardently Romance
For all the girlies who know
billionaires do it better
contents
Trigger warnings
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Waiting To Score by Elouise Tynan
Hearts of Fortune by E. Winn
Also by Elouise Tynan
About the Author
trigger warnings
This story contains the following triggers:
* references to cheating
(by MMC’s former fiancée)
* estranged family members
* spicy scenes for readers 18+
one
. . .
BLAKE
All I could focus on was the pair of smooth, tanned legs striding towards me.
Every rational, civilized thought fled my mind as I stared over the top of my tablet, my gaze drifting upwards to discover that those legs were attached to an amazing body and equally beautiful face.
She was everything I’d hoped for and nothing like I’d expected, dressed in a figure-hugging black-and and-white checked pencil skirt with a white linen blouse that dipped at the swell of her breasts. She’d paired it with black stiletto heels that short-circuited my brain.
I shifted in my seat, the other men in the room turning to glance at her as she walked by.
She didn’t look at all out of place. She looked like a CEO’s wife, just as I’d asked in the brief I’d given. Only, she was the hottest take on a CEO’s wife I’d ever seen. When I’d replied to the hiring agency email asking for physical specifications for the type of woman I wanted, I never imagined they’d deliver so meticulously. If I’d met her at a bar or at the gym, I might have considered hitting on her.
But not here. Not like this.
This was purely business. Which meant I’d be keeping my distance.
I returned to the financial article I was reading on my tablet, refusing to be caught checking her out.
“Blake?” she asked, stopping at my table. Her bright blue eyes were alight, a smile stretched across her face, showing off straight, white teeth. And those lips… they were almost as perfect as her legs.
“Honor?”
Her smile stretched wider, and she nodded, slipping her bag from her shoulder and placing it on the chair, then sliding onto the plush bench seat across from me with casual ease. Her long blonde hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, the ends brushing her shoulders when she turned her head.
“Do you want a drink?” I motioned to the waiter who appeared at our table.
She turned her smile on him. “A glass of champagne, please.”
He nodded, heading to the bar to fulfill her request, and those bright blue eyes landed back on me. “So, your brother’s getting married. How do you feel about that?”
The question threw me. She wanted to know how I felt about my brother’s wedding? I didn’t have time to feel any kind of way about it. I had a business to run and deals to close. Having to fly to Antigua for three weeks of nuptial celebrations with my family was wholly inconvenient. My brother was lucky I cared about him as much as I did because there was no one else I’d take this much time off for.
And why did she care about how it made me feel? She was being paid to do a job, not check in on my emotional state. If I wanted to talk about my feelings, I’d get myself a therapist. Or a girlfriend.
“I feel fine about it.”
Her eyebrow quirked ever so slightly. “Ah, that word. Fine. It generally means the person using it isn’t.”
“Isn’t what?”
“Fine.”
I lowered the tablet. “Well, when I use it, I mean it. You won’t find any pretense with me. I say exactly what I mean.”
She smiled as though I’d just revealed some kind of secret. “I’m figuring that out already.”
The waiter returned as I went back to my reading, and he placed a full champagne flute in front of her. He was a young guy, maybe twenty-two at best, and he lingered, smiling down at her.
“Thank you,” she said brightly, reaching for the glass to take a sip.
I knew that look on his face. I’d looked like that enough times myself, back when I was a young idiot who thought I could get women totally out of my league too.
Lowering my tablet once more, I gave him a pointed look. “That’ll be all.”
He startled, his face flushing, and he hurried away. Honor tried to hide her smile as she looked out the window at a plane slowly passing on its way to a gate. I returned to the article, planning to ignore her as much as I could.
I was determined to set the boundaries between us from the get-go. We weren’t going to be friends at the end of this. I wasn’t going to give her the impression this was anything other than a business deal. It didn’t matter how beautiful she was, this relationship was nothing more than a three-week transaction so I didn’t have to face the inevitable onslaught of questions from my family about my relationship status.
I was fed up with being hounded about when I was going to settle down, if I was going to get married for real, or when I’d start producing grandkids for my mother to fuss over. My family made it seem as if having a wife would improve my life exponentially, instead of giving me a headache I didn’t need. I didn’t have time to consider someone else’s feelings all day, every day. A partner would just get in my way. And I'd been burned so thoroughly by my last girlfriend that I'd sworn off any kind of serious relationship for life.
It was for the best, really. I’ve never been good with people.
“This airport lounge is beautiful. I’ve never been here before.”
“It’s the Chairman’s Lounge. Only directors, CEOs, and other top performers get an invitation to join,” I said, not bothering to lower the tablet this time.
“Is that what you are? A top performer in business?”
Her expression held no hint of teasing, merely a genuine curiosity.
I closed the tablet, discarding it on the table. “I run my own real estate development business, so yes.”
She nodded. “That must be nice.”
“Nice? It’s grueling, cutthroat and a shit-ton of hard work.”
She tilted her head, studying me. “So, what do you do for fun then? To combat all that intensity?”
What the hell kind of question is that?
“I work.”
You didn’t get to where I was—didn’t climb as high as I had or become as successful—by taking time out for frivolous shit like bowling night or weekends away in wine country. But I didn’t say that out loud because I knew it would make me sound like a total asshole… even if I was one.
She gave me a look like she’d expected that answer and went back to watching the planes go by, sipping her drink.
She was a companion for hire — not an escort, the emails from the service had been very clear on that, which made me think she may have been propositioned by her clients in the past. Can’t say I blamed the guys for trying. She was nothing like I’d expected. I’d imagined someone playing dress up, someone who looked the part of a billionaire’s girlfriend but couldn’t quite make it stick. Instead, she seemed perfectly at home. I was good at reading people—a crucial skill in any boardroom or business deal—and she didn’t seem nervous or look out of place surrounded by the opulence of the lounge and some of the country’s top business moguls.
She looked… at ease.
Maybe she was more experienced than I was giving her credit for. Or maybe she was just that good at her job. That second idea left me mildly impressed by her tenacity.
She placed her glass on the table and leaned closer.
“Should we talk about how the next few weeks are going to go? Come up with a game plan?” She gave me that small smile again, this time as though we were teammates nutting out how to take down the opposition.
I had no idea what to do with the twinge in my chest as she leaned closer.
Clearing my throat, I pulled my shit together. I didn’t drool over women like a teenage boy. They generally threw
I had to keep my head on straight or I’d never survive this vacation with my sanity intact and my dick in my pants. The last thing I needed was a lawsuit from a hired ‘companion.’
“We’ll be in Antigua for three weeks. The first two weeks will be pre-wedding events, followed by the ceremony. Then for some god-forsaken reason my brother wants us to stay another week afterwards with him and his new bride.”
A small frown creased her forehead. “You don’t like him?”
“I love my brother.”
“Then is it his choice of fiancée you don’t like?”
I shook my head. “Kelly is great. She’s good for him. I just don’t know why in the hell anyone would want their family on their honeymoon.”
She sat back in her chair, retreating inside her head for a moment. “It is an unusual choice…”
Her reaction made me wonder about her relationship with her family. Not that I’d ever ask, because ultimately, I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. She and I were not going to get to know each other, period. I only needed to know enough about her to pass her off as my girlfriend for the next three weeks and keep my family off my back.
“Can I ask you something?” she said, picking up her champagne again.
I nodded once and her gaze drifted over my tailored navy suit, crisp white shirt and expensive silver watch. “Why invite me? Why not just bring a date?”
Invite her. As though she were a friend I’d asked along, instead of a woman I was paying to accompany me. I didn’t want her to have any delusions of a fairy-tale romance where we fell for each other under the palm trees of Antigua. She wasn’t about to become some kind of Cinderella stand-in bagging a billionaire.
So, I gave it to her the only way I knew how—straight up.
“I find other people’s feelings inconvenient. So, I’m paying for the privilege of not having to care about yours.”
I waited for a look of outrage, or even surprise, to cross her face.
Instead, she pressed her lips together like she was trying not to laugh.
At me.
Then she smiled. “I can work with that.”
two
. . .
HONOR
If Blake thought I was impressed by his money, he was going to be severely disappointed.
I didn’t miss the way he’d clocked my expression as we were shown to our seats on the plane — the first row of first class, because where else would a guy like him sit? I was surprised we weren’t flying private, to be honest.
I knew his type. I’d grown up around them.
Rich, successful, and exhaustingly entitled. Exactly the kind of guy I’d have ended up marrying if I’d been willing to do things my parents’ way.
Only I hadn’t been willing to, and I still wasn’t.
That’s why I was on a plane to Antigua, sitting next to a guy who, while eye-wateringly hot, was no doubt going to prove to be either a total bore or a snob with a surgically-attached stick up his ass.
But the creative arts degree my parents had all but disowned me over wasn’t going to pay for itself. In college, fake-dating time-poor millionaires ensured I had enough cash for bills, books, and to pay off some of my student loans each month, though I’d still graduated with a major debt, like so many students my age.
Starting my own date-for-hire business had ensured I’d never have to go crawling back to my parents to pay my loans off.
The company had taken off recently and I’d moved from companion to manager, overseeing staff and clients from behind a desk. Albeit a very impressive CEO’s desk.
Blake was going to be my first in-person client in two years—not that he knew I was in charge. I hadn’t felt the need to share that information with him.
The worst part of my job was dealing with guys like Blake.
You find other people’s feelings inconvenient? They probably find you insufferable.
He’d made it perfectly clear why he was paying me to play the role of his girlfriend instead of bringing some needy bombshell along for free. He was clearly an arrogant asshole who was more interested in counting his money than finding a genuine connection with someone. But that was totally fine by me. And the money was well worth it, so I was happy to smile at his side and get paid for it.
Blake motioned for me to take the window seat and slipped his suit jacket from his toned shoulders. He was definitely hiding a cut body beneath that shirt, I was sure of it. He was probably the type who cried into his cornflakes if he missed a day at the gym. It no doubt provided him the perfect place to meet women he could root and boot to satisfy his own base needs without any emotional connection whatsoever.
Why were gorgeous men always such predictable assholes?
So far, he’d asked me exactly nothing about myself, further cementing my suspicion that we wouldn’t come away from this as friends the same way I was with some of my other clients. I’d managed to pull in some fun repeat clients back when I accepted jobs regularly. Ones who were so easy to spend time with it should be a crime to call it work.
But this guy was clearly a zero-fun zone.
Not that I cared that this stick-up-his-ass had no intention of getting to know me. This was a business deal. I was just here to get paid.
He slid into the giant seat beside me as the flight attendant appeared to hang his jacket.
“Do you want anything to drink?” Blake asked me, ordering a whiskey neat for himself.
I smiled up at the flight attendant. “Sparkling water with lime, please?”
Didn’t need to ask to know Blake would probably frown upon me having another glass of champagne. And he got to call the shots because he was paying for the privilege.
I already knew his ideal girl was someone who had long legs, great boobs, and zero demands of him. Someone who looked good while expecting nothing in return.
I could play that role.
“Did you read the notes I emailed you?” I asked, after the flight attendant had returned with our drinks.
He didn’t look up from the email he was reading on his tablet. “Yes.”
I propped my elbow on the armrest between us and leaned towards him. “So how did we meet then, honey snatch?” I asked sweetly.
“Don’t call me that.”
I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. This was going to be a long three weeks.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me either.”
“Any other rules I should be aware of?”
He lowered his tablet. “They’re not rules. My family knows I’d never date a woman who rolls her eyes at me or calls me cutesy names.”
“Why? Because it shows too much personality, and you hate that?”
He raised an eyebrow and, on him, it was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen. He really was gorgeous with his thick dark brown hair, strong jaw and matching brown eyes bordered by dark lashes. It was a shame about the near-permanent scowl on his face.
“You know, you were so polite and quiet when we were in the lounge. Why did that woman not get on the flight?”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again and sat back in my chair, putting space between us. “No talking. No personality. And no feelings. Got it.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn’t respond.
“Let’s go over the details of our relationship before we’re around your family. How did we meet?” I asked, gripping my glass on the little table at the end of my armrest as the plane rattled over the tarmac towards the runway.
“At the gym.”
It was the most boring made-up meeting. It suited him.
“And how long have we been dating?”
“Four months.”
“So this will be your longest relationship ever then?”
His gaze slid to me, but he didn’t say anything. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. He was a paying client. I needed to keep my retorts in check.
“Is it serious between us?” I asked, moving on before he burst a blood vessel trying not to have a good time.
“Probably not.”
I snorted a laugh. Even pretending, he was commitment averse.
“But we can’t say that to my family. So, the answer is maybe.”
