As the plane taxied to a stop, Lily eased herself out of Nik’s possessive grasp and gathered together Brittany’s belongings. “No, don’t move. It’s important that you don’t use your hand. You have to rest that wrist. Doctor’s orders.”
“I’m not good with orders.”
“We’ve been roommates all summer. I know exactly how bad you are with orders, but, Brittany, it was a nasty break. You fell awkwardly.”
“Yeah, I know. So embarrassing. I’d kick myself, except with my current luck I’d probably break an ankle doing it.”
Lily gave her a hug. “You’re injured. You have to look after yourself.”
“I can look after myself.” Not for a moment did she reveal how much it cost her simply to drag her purse from under the seat and slide it over her shoulder. Her left shoulder. The movement felt awkward and unnatural. It wasn’t until she’d lost the use of her right hand that she’d realized how much she depended on it. Apparently she didn’t do much with the left side of her body.
Why hadn’t she looked where she was going? She’d been on archaeological digs all over the world and never gotten so much as a scratch and now she had a broken wrist, and all because she’d been laughing so hard she’d fallen into the trench she’d been excavating moments earlier.
Living that one down was going to take her through to the next ice age.
Rolling her eyes, she reached for her backpack only to find Nik had already placed it on the seat.
“My staff will unload your case. Your onward flight is all arranged. If you encounter any problems, call my cell. I’ll have my people sort it out.”
My people.
She smiled at him, this man who ran a small empire and was responsible for the employment of so many. He was sophisticated and intelligent. She’d enjoyed spending time with him. If he hadn’t fallen in love with her friend, she might have been tempted to sample more than the delights of his conversation. She was sure the hard, honed physique beneath the expensive clothes would be well worth exploring. But unlike Lily, she would have handed him back at the end of the encounter.
She wasn’t interested in permanence, either in her relationships or where she lived. Better to move on, as humans had done for centuries.
She took the card he handed her. “Are you sure this flight to Puffin Island is all arranged? I can easily get a cab and take the ferry. It’s what I usually do. Cram in with the rest of humanity.”
“With a broken wrist? No.” Nik was polite but firm. “A friend of mine owns a place in Bar Harbor and he has a pilot he uses for transfers to his yacht.”
“Of course he does. Because how else would you get from your beach home to your yacht? It’s a problem I’ve often pondered.” She made a joke of it, and wondered if he even realized how different his world was from most people’s. “Just as long as your pilot isn’t expecting to drop me at my yacht. I do own a kayak, but I’m guessing that doesn’t count.”
Lily handed her the hat she’d tucked under the seat. “You have a beach house. Castaway Cottage. After everything you’ve told me about it, I’m determined that Nik and I are going to visit one day.”
“I hope you do.” Brittany wondered what Nik, who owned homes in San Francisco, New York, London and Greece, would make of her simple beach house and then shrugged away the thought. It was home and she loved it. And simple or not, it was worth a lot of money. She’d had numerous offers from people willing to pay for the privilege of living in the relative seclusion of Shell Bay on the much-sought-after Puffin Island.
But Brittany had never considered selling.
Castaway Cottage was special to her.
True, there had been times growing up when the community on Puffin Island had felt suffocating, but whenever she returned home after long absences she discovered how much she missed it. After the relentless summer heat of Greece it would be bliss to feel the cool breeze on her face and fall asleep listening to the crash of the surf. She wanted to taste lobster and pick blueberries. Most of all she wanted to see her two closest friends.
Emily was now living on the island and Skylar was only a short flight away in Manhattan.
“How will you manage?” Lily was still fussing. “How are you going to cook and care for yourself? You struggled when you tried to change midflight.”
Halfway across the Atlantic Brittany had roused herself enough to use the sleek bathroom in the Gulfstream and change into clean shorts and a simple strap top. Lily, ever sensitive, had appeared and offered to brush and braid her hair. It drove Brittany crazy that she couldn’t do it herself and she was forced to admit that Lily had a point.
How was she going to manage with just one hand? Cook? Shower?
For someone as independent as her, the next few weeks were going to be frustrating.
“I’ll be fine. I can eat cereal from the packet with my left hand.”
“Do you need me to come and stay for a while?” Lily’s warmth and generosity was one of the many reasons Brittany loved her. They’d been working together on the same project for several months in Greece, sharing a small airless bedroom. Brittany knew that, living in such close quarters, it was Lily’s patience that had prevented irritation arising. And it was that sweet nature that had snared the notoriously tough Nik Zervakis, who had the sense to know when he’d struck gold and put an enormous diamond on Lily’s finger before anyone else could.
“You need to start your new life. And if there’s one thing there’s plenty of on Puffin Island, it’s help. My friend Emily is living in the cottage right now so I’ll be fine. Go and have fun. But invite me to the wedding.”
Lily’s face lit up like a lightbulb. “Of course. We were thinking we might get married next summer in Greece. I want Nik’s family to be there. I don’t have family of my own so I’ve adopted his.”
Brittany smiled. Of all the benefits that came from marrying a shockingly wealthy man, the thing her friend coveted most was not the size of his wallet or his powerful connections but his family.
“I might be there next summer,” she said. “I haven’t decided. My research post has finished so I need to think about next steps. And whatever step I take, I need to do it without breaking my wrist again. Stay in touch.” She moved to the front of the plane. A small part of her envied her friend. Not the wealth, although money was always useful of course. No, what she envied was the connection Lily had with Nik. The closeness. Their relationship had been a whirlwind, but no one who saw them could possibly believe what they shared was anything other than deep, genuine and long lasting. Already their depth of understanding and mutual appreciation was rooted deep.
She’d never had that.
Even in her short, ill-fated marriage, she’d never had emotional intimacy.
Giving her friends a final farewell hug, she left the luxury of the plane and made her way to the Cessna seaplane that would take her direct to Puffin Island.
She was relieved to have been spared the ferry. At this time of year it would be crowded with day-trippers and summer visitors keen to enjoy all that Puffin Island had to offer. In recent years the island had attracted a colorful crowd—artists, musicians, wealthy folk looking for an exclusive retreat that still offered the trappings of civilization.
Brittany was happy to use Wi-Fi when it was available, but equally happy when it wasn’t. To her, luxury was a word that could as easily be applied to a night sleeping in the desert under a canopy of stars as it could to a night in a five-star hotel sleeping in silk sheets. Luxury was the freedom to explore and indulge her adventurous spirit.
In pursuit of that adventure, she’d traveled the world. After leaving the United States, she’d moved to the UK and done her masters and