Six months later.
The tropical sun of the private Bahamian island filtered through the sheer white curtains of the overwater villa, casting a warm, golden glow across the polished mahogany floor.
Maya stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror, staring at her reflection. She was no longer the exhausted, terrified assistant hiding in drab grey suits and thick glasses. The woman looking back at her was radiant. She wore a custom silk wedding gown that clung perfectly to every curve, the delicate lace detailing trailing down her back.
The heavy oak door of the master suite clicked open.
Maya gasped, spinning around, her hands flying to her hips. Julian, you are not supposed to be in here! It is bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony.
Julian Thorne stepped into the room, closing
