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closed her eyes and let out a resigned breath. “I thought it was you, but I wasn’t sure with that blonde hair.”
    Margaret Vandermill placed a well-manicured, tanned hand on Brooklyn’s shoulder.
    “Margaret,” Brooklyn said, rising from her seat. She gave air kisses on both cheeks as she’d done at every party her parents had ever thrown. “It’s nice to see you. What brings you to the island?”
    “I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were still on your honeymoon.” She glanced between Lucy and Gabe before holding out her hand to Gabe. “Margaret Vandermill.”
    Oh hell. Margaret sure has a big mouth. Gabe rose and shook her hand. “Gabe Love. It’s a pleasure.”
    “Where’s Warren? Is he around here too?” Margaret asked, glancing around the room.
    “Oh, you know Warren?” The sleaze ball. “He’s probably at the office screwing his secretary while she’s bent over his desk.”
    Margaret gasped and lifted her hand to her chest. “Well, now that explains the eye candy and your vacation.” Could this get any worse?
    She touched Brooklyn’s arm and winked. “I’m in room 501 at the hotel. Call me and we’ll do lunch.” She smiled at Gabe and winked. “Take care of her.” She held her hand around the side of her mouth as if trying to whisper. “I hear she likes to take charge in the bedroom.” It got worse.
    “She hasn’t complained yet. Isn’t that right, Lucy?”
    I’ve got to go. Her time here had gotten cut short and all because of Margaret. She’d remembered when she heard the voice of exactly why Love Island had seemed like the best place to hide. She’d heard Margaret talking about her vacations. Shit and double damn . Lucy’s eyes widened, and Gabe’s brow lifted in challenge. She could tell by the look on his face that she was going to have some explaining to do if he didn’t just get right up and leave her at the restaurant. A small part of her almost wished that he would so she didn’t have to explain what the hell was going on. 
    As soon as Margaret left, Gabe took her hand and pulled her to the bar. He asked for a bottle of the wine she’d ordered and then led her to the back door. Butterflies danced in her stomach. What was he going to do? Take her out and let her swim with the fishes? He led her past the pool and down the stairs to the sand. He set the bottle on the step before reaching for her shoes and sliding them off her feet. Picking up the bottle and dangling her shoes by the same fingers, he clutched her other hand in his and led her down toward a secluded section near the rocks.
    “I can explain,” she started.
    He shook his head and glanced back over his shoulder. He moved around the rocks, making them step into the water before he led her into a small dark alcove. It would have been secluded and romantic if he’d not been mad. He’s going to kill me and leave my body.
    “I’d never hurt you,” he said plainly, his voice thick. He took off his coat and draped it over one of the flatter rocks and gestured for her to sit.
    Dropping her shoes, he popped the cork on the bottle of wine and handed it to her.
    Her brows dipped as she took it from his fingers.
    “I promised you wine. Now drink.”
    She took a small sip and handed it back. Gabe took a longer pull and handed it back to her before pacing the small area while running his fingers through his hair. “Lucy?”
    “Lucy Brook Lynn Pate-Abbott,” she said, answering his unasked question.
    He shook his head and squeezed his neck. “And is it true what she said? Are you married?”
    “Technically, yes.”
    “Damn it.” He lifted his head to the sky. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you let me kiss you? Cripes.”
    Lucy felt the pressure in her chest. It felt as though her heart was in a vise grip and someone was slowly closing the clamps. “I married him before I realized what he was trying to do. We were packing for our honeymoon when I overheard him on the phone in the