Juniper sat stiffly in Adrian Blackwood’s sleek private jet, gripping the armrest harder than she cared to admit. The leather was buttery smooth under her fingertips, the scent of espresso and polished wood filling the spacious cabin.
Across from her, Adrian lounged in his seat like he had not a single care in the world. His black button-down was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves casually rolled up, exposing strong forearms. He swirled a glass of bourbon as he studied her, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth.
She hated that mouth.
“You’ve been glaring at me for the last twenty minutes,” Adrian said, voice smooth as silk. “Should I be worried?”
Juniper forced a smile. “Just wondering if your ego is large enough to require its own seat.”
He chuckled, deep and rich. “Touché. Though I prefer to think of it as confidence.”
She scoffed. “Of course you do.”
Adrian set his drink down and leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. “You’re here, Ms. Hale. Which means you’re at least intrigued.”
Juniper folded her arms. “I’m here because you dangled ten million dollars in front of me.”
He smirked. “I never dangled. I made an offer. One you could have refused.”
She gritted her teeth. He was right, and that irritated her more than anything.
When Adrian’s assistant had presented her with the deal, she had been torn between outrage and desperation. Ten million dollars was more than OceanGuard had raised in five years. But spending a month on a private island with a man who thrived on control? That was a nightmare waiting to happen.
Still, she had no choice.
“So let’s make this clear,” she said, sitting up straighter. “I spend one month on your island, proving the viability of my project. You give me the money, and I never have to see you again.”
Adrian tilted his head. “Cold, Hale. You wound me.”
“You’ll survive.”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t argue.
Just then, the pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Mr. Blackwood, we’ll be landing soon. Looks like there’s a storm rolling in.”
Juniper glanced out the window. Dark clouds swirled in the distance, thick and ominous over the deep blue of the Caribbean Sea.
Adrian followed her gaze, then looked back at her with a smirk. “Hope you’re not afraid of hurricanes, Ms. Hale.”
Juniper turned to him, matching his smirk with one of her own. “Hope you’re not afraid of getting your ass handed to you, Mr. Blackwood.”
The Island
By the time the helicopter touched down on Blackwood’s private island, the sky had darkened to an eerie shade of gray. The palm trees swayed violently in the growing wind, and the scent of rain was thick in the humid air.
Juniper stepped out, her heels sinking slightly into the sand. She barely had a moment to take in the sprawling villa in front of her. Whitestone, floor-to-ceiling windows, and an infinity pool that seemed to spill into the ocean before Adrian appeared beside her.
“Welcome to Blackwood Cay,” he said, his voice a low rumble against the distant crack of thunder.
Juniper ignored the way the sound sent a shiver down her spine.
“Your money really doesn’t believe in subtlety, does it?” she muttered.
Adrian chuckled. “Would you expect anything less?”
She exhaled, pushing back her hair as the wind tugged at it. “Let’s just get this over with.”
As they walked toward the villa, Adrian’s assistant, a no-nonsense woman named Evelyn, approached them.
“The storm is expected to hit within the next few hours,” she informed Adrian. “We’ve secured everything, but I’d recommend staying indoors.”
Adrian nodded. “Good. Have the staff take the night off.”
Evelyn’s brow arched slightly, but she didn’t question him. She simply nodded and walked away.
Juniper frowned. “You’re sending everyone away?”
Adrian shrugged. “I prefer privacy.”
She gave him a side-eye. “That sounds like billionaire code for ‘I don’t like witnesses.’”
He grinned. “You catch on fast.”
The StormAs night fell, the storm rolled in with a vengeance. Rain lashed against the villa’s windows, and the wind howled through the palm trees like a living thing. The power flickered once, then again, before steadying.
Juniper stood in the massive open-concept living room, arms crossed as she watched Adrian pour himself another drink.
“You’re awfully calm for a man hosting a hurricane,” she said.
He glanced at her. “Would you rather I panic?”
“No, but I’d rather you act like this isn’t just another Tuesday for you.”
Adrian smirked. “Storms don’t bother me.”
“Of course they don’t.”
He stepped closer, studying her. “You, on the other hand… do they bother you?”
Juniper met his gaze, refusing to let him see the slight unease creeping into her chest. “I’m fine.”
“Liar,” he murmured.
Before she could respond, the lights flickered once more and then cut out entirely, plunging the villa into darkness.
Juniper sucked in a sharp breath. The storm outside roared louder, the sound of wind and rain suddenly more oppressive without the comforting glow of light.
She felt Adrian move before she saw him. His presence was close, too close, and when a flash of lightning illuminated the room, she caught the faintest flicker of concern in his eyes.
“You okay?” His voice was softer now, lacking the usual teasing edge.
Juniper swallowed, annoyed that the sudden darkness had rattled her. “I’m fine,” she repeated, but it didn’t come out as steady as she wanted.
A warm hand brushed against hers in the darkness.
She stiffened.
“I can light some candles,” Adrian offered. “Unless you’d prefer to sit in the dark and pretend you’re not terrified.”
Juniper scoffed, stepping back. “I’m not terrified.”
Adrian chuckled. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
She heard him move away, and moments later, the soft glow of candlelight flickered through the room. The storm outside continued its furious assault, but inside, the golden light cast an almost intimate glow.
Juniper exhaled slowly, forcing herself to relax.
She could survive one night on this island.
One month?
That was a different story.
And as she watched Adrian Blackwood move through the candlelit villa, his sharp features flickering in the warm glow, she had a sinking feeling she wasn’t just battling a storm.
She was battling him.
And she wasn’t sure which was more dangerous.
A sudden boom rattled the villa as something heavy crashed outside.
Adrian cursed, striding toward the window. Juniper followed, her stomach tightening as she saw a massive tree had fallen across the driveway, blocking the road completely.
She turned to Adrian. “Please tell me you have another way off this island.”
Adrian’s smirk was back, but this time, there was something unreadable behind it.
“Not until the storm passes,” he said. “Looks like we’re stuck here, Ms. Hale.”
The storm raged on, shaking the villa with every gust of wind. Rain pounded against the windows like a relentless drumbeat, and thunder cracked so loudly that Juniper swore she felt it in her bones.She stood near the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, watching palm trees bend under the force of the hurricane. The dark ocean churned violently beyond the cliffs, waves crashing against the rocks with terrifying force.Behind her, Adrian sat on the couch, his usual smug confidence replaced with something quieter, tenser. He had barely spoken since the power went out, and that alone was unsettling.Juniper turned to him, crossing her arms. “So, is this where you admit that maybe, just maybe, you should have taken this storm more seriously?”Adrian exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you are looking for an ‘I told you so,’ you are not getting one.”She arched a brow. “I’ll take that as a silent confession.”The candlelight flickered between them, casting long shadows across
The moment the news segment ended, the air in the villa thickened with tension. The flickering light from the television cast uneven shadows across the walls, but Juniper was focused solely on Adrian.He stood near the couch, his jaw clenched so tightly she thought it might crack. His fists were curled at his sides, the tendons in his forearms visible beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his crisp white shirt. He hadn’t moved since the broadcast started, but his silence was louder than any outburst.Juniper crossed her arms. “That was quite the headline,” she said, her voice cutting through the stillness like a blade.Adrian didn’t flinch. Instead, he reached for the remote, his movements precise, and turned off the TV with a sharp click.“News exaggerates,” he said smoothly, but there was something too controlled about the way he said it, as if he were gripping the edges of his patience.Juniper narrowed her eyes. “Right. And you just happen to be the unfortunate billionaire caught in th
Juniper’s pulse pounded in her ears as the shadow outside the office door shifted. The villa was too quiet, the usual crash of the waves against the cliffs suddenly feeling distant, muted by the suffocating silence.She gripped her phone tighter, her body pressed against the wall. Where the hell was Adrian?The doorknob twisted.Juniper’s breath hitched.Before she could react, the door burst open, and a dark figure lunged inside.She spun away, scrambling toward the desk, her hands fumbling for anything she could use as a weapon. Her fingers wrapped around a heavy glass paperweight just as the intruder reached for her.“Don’t,” she warned, lifting the makeshift weapon.The figure hesitated. The dim moonlight filtering through the windows revealed a man dressed in black, his face partially concealed by a mask. His stance was tense, calculated.Not a burglar. Someone with a purpose.“What do you want?” she demanded, inching toward the door.The man didn’t answer. Instead, he took anoth
The Waldorf Astoria’s grand ballroom glittered with wealth and excess. Crystal chandeliers bathed the crowd in golden light, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and aged whiskey. Juniper Hale didn’t belong here. Not in this world of billionaire elites who threw charity galas to ease their guilt while hoarding wealth.But tonight, she wasn’t here to blend in. She was here for a fight.Adjusting the simple navy dress she had borrowed from a friend because unlike everyone here, she didn’t have a closet full of designer gowns. She scanned the room until she found him.Adrian Blackwood.He stood near the bar, effortlessly commanding attention. Dressed in a sleek black tux, he exuded confidence, swirling a glass of bourbon as he smirked at something his business partner said. The way he carried himself, like he owned every space he stepped into, set Juniper’s nerves on edge. He was arrogant, ruthless, and exactly the type of man who had the power to save her nonprofit.If she
Juniper’s pulse pounded in her ears as the shadow outside the office door shifted. The villa was too quiet, the usual crash of the waves against the cliffs suddenly feeling distant, muted by the suffocating silence.She gripped her phone tighter, her body pressed against the wall. Where the hell was Adrian?The doorknob twisted.Juniper’s breath hitched.Before she could react, the door burst open, and a dark figure lunged inside.She spun away, scrambling toward the desk, her hands fumbling for anything she could use as a weapon. Her fingers wrapped around a heavy glass paperweight just as the intruder reached for her.“Don’t,” she warned, lifting the makeshift weapon.The figure hesitated. The dim moonlight filtering through the windows revealed a man dressed in black, his face partially concealed by a mask. His stance was tense, calculated.Not a burglar. Someone with a purpose.“What do you want?” she demanded, inching toward the door.The man didn’t answer. Instead, he took anoth
The moment the news segment ended, the air in the villa thickened with tension. The flickering light from the television cast uneven shadows across the walls, but Juniper was focused solely on Adrian.He stood near the couch, his jaw clenched so tightly she thought it might crack. His fists were curled at his sides, the tendons in his forearms visible beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his crisp white shirt. He hadn’t moved since the broadcast started, but his silence was louder than any outburst.Juniper crossed her arms. “That was quite the headline,” she said, her voice cutting through the stillness like a blade.Adrian didn’t flinch. Instead, he reached for the remote, his movements precise, and turned off the TV with a sharp click.“News exaggerates,” he said smoothly, but there was something too controlled about the way he said it, as if he were gripping the edges of his patience.Juniper narrowed her eyes. “Right. And you just happen to be the unfortunate billionaire caught in th
The storm raged on, shaking the villa with every gust of wind. Rain pounded against the windows like a relentless drumbeat, and thunder cracked so loudly that Juniper swore she felt it in her bones.She stood near the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, watching palm trees bend under the force of the hurricane. The dark ocean churned violently beyond the cliffs, waves crashing against the rocks with terrifying force.Behind her, Adrian sat on the couch, his usual smug confidence replaced with something quieter, tenser. He had barely spoken since the power went out, and that alone was unsettling.Juniper turned to him, crossing her arms. “So, is this where you admit that maybe, just maybe, you should have taken this storm more seriously?”Adrian exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If you are looking for an ‘I told you so,’ you are not getting one.”She arched a brow. “I’ll take that as a silent confession.”The candlelight flickered between them, casting long shadows across
Juniper sat stiffly in Adrian Blackwood’s sleek private jet, gripping the armrest harder than she cared to admit. The leather was buttery smooth under her fingertips, the scent of espresso and polished wood filling the spacious cabin.Across from her, Adrian lounged in his seat like he had not a single care in the world. His black button-down was unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves casually rolled up, exposing strong forearms. He swirled a glass of bourbon as he studied her, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth.She hated that mouth.“You’ve been glaring at me for the last twenty minutes,” Adrian said, voice smooth as silk. “Should I be worried?”Juniper forced a smile. “Just wondering if your ego is large enough to require its own seat.”He chuckled, deep and rich. “Touché. Though I prefer to think of it as confidence.”She scoffed. “Of course you do.”Adrian set his drink down and leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. “You’re here, Ms. Hale. Which means you’re
The Waldorf Astoria’s grand ballroom glittered with wealth and excess. Crystal chandeliers bathed the crowd in golden light, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and aged whiskey. Juniper Hale didn’t belong here. Not in this world of billionaire elites who threw charity galas to ease their guilt while hoarding wealth.But tonight, she wasn’t here to blend in. She was here for a fight.Adjusting the simple navy dress she had borrowed from a friend because unlike everyone here, she didn’t have a closet full of designer gowns. She scanned the room until she found him.Adrian Blackwood.He stood near the bar, effortlessly commanding attention. Dressed in a sleek black tux, he exuded confidence, swirling a glass of bourbon as he smirked at something his business partner said. The way he carried himself, like he owned every space he stepped into, set Juniper’s nerves on edge. He was arrogant, ruthless, and exactly the type of man who had the power to save her nonprofit.If she