Touch of Paradise
Touch of Paradise
Dara Girard
Island heatTen years ago, Aaron Wethers saved Rebecca Cromwell from drowning on spring break. Enamored by her sexy savior, Rebecca fell short of getting the hard-edged executive interested in turning his role of practical hero into a romantic one. Now his Caribbean resort is hosting Rebecca's fashion collection, and she has two weeks to show Aaron how much she's grown up. Yet instead of enjoying revenge, she's falling hard for the real but enigmatic man behind her long-ago infatuation.Aaron hasn't forgotten the vibrant young student who propositioned him that night. He's left breathless by the self-assured, stunning beauty she's become. Under a blue island sky, they discover a deep, searing connection. But when a series of dangerous events threaten to sabotage her show, can he be the hero she needs now?
Island heat
Ten years ago, Aaron Wethers saved Rebecca Cromwell from drowning on spring break. Enamored by her sexy savior, Rebecca fell short of getting the hard-edged executive interested in turning his role of practical hero into a romantic one. Now his Caribbean resort is hosting Rebecca’s fashion collection, and she has two weeks to show Aaron how much she’s grown up. Yet instead of enjoying revenge, she’s falling hard for the real but enigmatic man behind her long-ago infatuation.
Aaron hasn’t forgotten the vibrant young student who propositioned him that night. He’s left breathless by the self-assured, stunning beauty she’s become. Under a blue island sky, they discover a deep, searing connection. But when a series of dangerous events threaten to sabotage her show, can he be the hero she needs now?
“Tell me how we met. Where?”
Rebecca stopped walking and pointed to the water. “Out there.”
“Out where?”
“In the ocean. Ten years ago you saved me from drowning.” She started walking again. “And when I offered my heart to you, you turned me away.”
He blinked and didn’t move. No, it couldn’t be. “Becca? You’re little Becca?”
She threw out her arms and kept walking, increasing the distance between them. “As you can see, I’m not little anymore. And I know it’s best to stay away from you. You once called me a little mouse.”
“I know,” he said, walking up to her, easily catching up to her.
“Yes, but the little mouse now knows better than to play with the lion.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t mean to hurt you—”
“What’s past is past.”
“And I don’t see you as a mouse anymore.”
She stopped and looked up at him. “I’m glad, because I want you to picture me as something else.”
“What?”
“A dragonfly that you will never catch.”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have every intention of catching you.”
Dear Reader (#ulink_fa5d4c7e-dc2a-5ff6-ab9e-d15fc0a52ce0),
Tales of my great-great-grandfather, a rebel who grew up on the island of Jamaica, helped to flavor my imagination for the arrogant Aaron Wethers in Touch of Paradise. The talented Rebecca Cromwell came to me after I attended a fashion show for a local designer.
This story of sun, sand and seduction led to questions of “What if...”
What if a misunderstanding tore apart two people who were clearly meant for each other? What if a pet iguana helped reunite them? What if someone turned paradise into a dangerous puzzle?
What if...
Well, you get the idea. Finding the answers to these questions led to a journey of twists and turns and the ultimate romance.
Enjoy,
Dara Girard
Touch of Paradise
Dara Girard
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
DARA GIRARD fell in love with storytelling at an early age. Her romance writing career happened by chance when she discovered the power of a happy ending. She is an award-winning author whose novels are known for their sense of humor, interesting plot twists and witty dialogue. When she’s not writing, she enjoys spring mornings and autumn afternoons, French pastries, dancing to the latest hits, and long drives.
Dara loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her at contactdara@daragirard.com or PO Box 10345, Silver Spring, MD 20914.
To my readers.
Contents
Cover (#ub6197e49-cc7b-5626-bdd9-bbf70f4a87ef)
Back Cover Text (#uc7b3006e-2aac-54a2-97e8-bcb1b6f058cc)
Introduction (#u04cd072a-cde4-5ad7-95b2-24abe0f429b8)
Dear Reader (#uce9dd0c0-151b-5968-8c8a-739e2ab6ef17)
Title Page (#uc4b0837b-2fe5-5f75-b3c3-d6d7ddfe2b80)
About the Author (#u3efa8707-0436-53d6-9ec6-3f417e08b721)
Dedication (#ua70fb47f-149a-53f0-b874-af29b43f5daa)
Chapter 1 (#ua71e421d-9e79-5e05-ab79-7c5fbe1c4a87)
Chapter 2 (#u6343758e-a388-5a20-b9ff-efc3e034de05)
Chapter 3 (#u753d4f70-26a5-5ea1-98ae-b67c53314755)
Chapter 4 (#u058fbf90-3085-57d9-800d-2f953c9fb930)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_bfccf6dc-3a77-52cd-bb96-1e3c4e8a72a3)
The luscious, exotic island of St. James boasted white sand beaches, towering coconut and breadfruit trees and water so blue it put the sky to shame. Red Beacon Villa Resorts sat on the far north side, away from the island’s bustling capital and other major cities. The resort was an international destination that catered to an array of guests and had done so for the past fifty years. Its majestic main house stood proud and welcoming. But while outside a soft Caribbean breeze toyed with the palm trees that surrounded the house’s tall pillars and gleaming windows, a storm raged within.
“She said what?” Aaron Wethers asked, glaring at the man who faced him. A little green lizard sat outside on the windowsill, seeming to look at the two men who sat in the office. One man sat behind a large oak desk decorated with intricate, inlaid gold trim. He was considerably younger than the second man and nearly twice his size, and his steady gaze seemed to make the second man sink lower in his chair.
The second man was Harvey Clark, a name he’d hated since he was a boy, but he’d never had the courage to change it, so he preferred to go by the initials H.C. Harvey wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief and fought not to chew his nails. It was a nervous habit he’d finally conquered in his late forties. The room wasn’t hot, but under Wethers’s stare, he felt like an ant under a microscope. He’d practiced what he was going to say all yesterday and even this morning before the meeting, but nothing could have prepared him for the anger that flashed in his boss’s penetrating dark gaze.
Wethers was a man both respected and, at times, feared. He was the kind of man who could make anyone feel small with just a glance. Not due to arrogance, although as a child of privilege it was almost expected, or because he was a bully—he was a fair man and loyal to his staff. Harvey liked him. He’d worked for his father and was honored to work with the son. But the younger Wethers was a man you didn’t want to disappoint, and one you certainly didn’t want to make angry. Harvey lightened his tone, attempting not to make the news sound as bad as it really was. “Your sister needs your help.”
Aaron fell silent, then slowly blinked with the ease of a lazy lion. “What the hell do I know about hosting a fashion show?” he finally asked.
“You don’t have to know anything. That’s not what she needs you for.”
“What, then?”
“She thinks someone is trying to sabotage the show. A box of props went missing.”
“And we had a new shipment sent. I know. I had a friend of mine take care of replacing the items. I’d hardly call that sabotage.”
Harvey wiped his neck, then glanced outside and saw Wethers’s son, Brandon, looking through the bushes. “But your sister is nervous because other things have gone wrong.”
“My sister tends to dramatize issues.” Wethers kept his gaze focused on the magnificent view of the ocean from his office window.
“Right now she’s in the process of leaving the island with three of her models who’ve developed rashes all over their bodies.”
“An allergic reaction?”
“She thinks someone tampered with their makeup. She’s taking several samples with her to get tested.”
“She could have had someone else do that.”
“Your mother said—”
Wethers lifted his brows. “You’re actually going to bring my mother into this, too?”
Harvey silently swore, knowing he’d made a wrong move. Hitting Wethers with both his mother and sister was not a wise strategy. “She agrees with your sister. They both think your involvement is essential.”
Aaron rubbed his chin. “And you’re just telling me this now? My sister couldn’t tell me this yesterday?”
“The makeup tampering—”
Aaron held up his hand. “Alleged tampering.”
“—really concerns her. She wouldn’t have bothered you otherwise,” Harvey finished, then glanced outside again, unable to hold Wethers’s steady gaze, and saw Brandon talking to one of the groundskeepers, who listened to something he said, then shook his head. What was the boy looking for?
“H.C.?”
Harvey turned sharply to him. “Yes?”
“What are you looking at?”
“Your son.”
Wethers’s tone sharpened. “What about my son?”
Harvey shook his head, sorry he’d mentioned it. Wethers had enough to think about, and Harvey didn’t want to worry him needlessly. It was probably nothing. Brandon was a good kid and didn’t usually get into trouble. “Nothing. Sorry, I—I just saw him run past.” He folded his damp handkerchief and pressed it to his forehead again.
Wethers narrowed his eyes. “What’s got you so nervous?”
Harvey shrugged. “I’m not nervous.” He adjusted his position in the large overstuffed chair.
Wethers narrowed his eyes a fraction more. “You believe her, don’t you?”
“These incidents don’t seem like accidents, especially the last one.”
Aaron shrugged. “Two mishaps aren’t—”
“Three.”
“Excuse me?”
“Actually, there have been three mishaps. These two were just the latest. The first one involved the digital file for the event. It somehow got corrupted, but fortunately there was a backup.”
“Hmm.”
“She really sounded upset on the phone about what’s happening.”
Aaron groaned. “I hate this. You know my plan was to stay as far away as possible over these next several days while our resort is overrun with over-indulged, self-interested parasites.”
Harvey held out his hands. “I know you had a bad experience with models—”
“Bad? Would you call the sinking of the Titanic merely bad? The stock market crash of 1929 a mere miscalculation?”
Harvey sighed. “I’m sorry. I know how bad...I mean awful—” he quickly corrected “—it was for you. But that was more than nine years ago. This isn’t about vanity. I’ve seen some of what they’re putting together and it’s really beautiful, and the people I’ve met have been very nice. We’re dealing with professionals, and I’ll help as much as I can, but I think your sister’s concern shouldn’t be taken lightly.”
Aaron slowly stood to his feet. “You’re a good man, H.C.” Aaron walked around the desk, then leaned against it with his arms folded. “I love my sister, but she has a habit of causing trouble, and my mother indulges her. But maybe there is something to this. When is my mother coming?”
Harvey nervously cleared his throat, wishing Wethers would return to his seat. He hated having to look up at him. “Your—your mother?”
“Yes, my mother. This is right up her alley. If she’s as concerned as my sister, she’ll love to be here and make sure everything is spectacular. She’s been a fashion hound since I was a kid. She’ll use this opportunity to indulge her personal hobby. I don’t care if she wants to come and boss me around a bit while I look into what’s going on.”
Harvey unfolded his damp handkerchief and wiped his forehead, his cheeks and his neck, then crumpled it in his fist. This was the news he didn’t want to deliver. “That’s the problem.”
Aaron stilled. “What is?”
“Your mother needs you to be in charge.”
“Me? Why?”
“She broke her ankle while vacationing in Switzerland and won’t be able to be here, either.”
Wethers looked out the window at the swaying palm trees and said in a low voice, “How convenient.”
“It doesn’t sound very convenient to me.”
Wethers shifted his gaze back to Harvey. “You missed the ring of sarcasm. I’ll try to be clearer next time.” He tapped a finger against his lips and said in a quiet voice, “I wonder what those two are up to?”
“I really think your sister’s frightened.”
“Then why didn’t she tell me directly?”
“She didn’t think you’d believe her. And this event is very important to her. This new designer is making waves around the globe. Red Beacon Villa Resorts will make a name for itself hosting the Cromwell Collection.”
“I don’t care what his name is—”
“Her. Her name is Rebecca Cromwell,” Harvey continued, ignoring Aaron’s obvious boredom with the topic.
Aaron stared at him for a long moment, making it clear he didn’t care.
Harvey swallowed. He hated when Wethers pinned him with that penetrating look. “I just thought you should know.”
“Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“What you really think. Should I be concerned?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Harvey said, relieved that at least that was the truth. “There are a lot of people involved in this event—volunteers, caterers, photographers, the stage crew, the stylists. Mistakes are bound to happen.”
“You’re giving me excuses, not an opinion. What do you really think?”
“I think that if what Candace believes is true, we have a serious problem because things seem to be escalating. The corrupted file and lost props were an annoyance, but tampering with the model’s makeup makes things more dangerous. Only the top three models were affected, and they were to be the key draw for the event, since one of them is a local girl. If anything else goes wrong, it’s possible we’ll have to cancel.”
“I’m not going to let that happen. We may have lost three days, but we have eleven days left.”
“Yes, sir,” Harvey said, feeling his heart cheer. He knew Wethers would do whatever it took to save the show.
“I want to meet with security in an hour.”
“Yes.” Harvey nodded, then left the room, wiping his forehead again when his phone rang. “Hello?”
“What does he think?” Candace Wethers said.
Harvey lowered his voice. “You should have told him yourself.”
“You know I couldn’t. Was he angry?”
“Yes, at first, then he said he’ll look into it.”
“Did you tell him about Rebecca?”
“Only briefly. I thought it best to focus on the show. I don’t think he’ll believe she’s the one being targeted. Besides, there’s no proof.”
“I know, but I just have a bad feeling about this. I think whoever is trying to sabotage the show is trying to hurt her.”
“You think her life’s in danger?”
Candace sighed. “I really don’t know. It doesn’t make sense, but I have a horrible feeling that Rebecca could get hurt in more ways than one.”
“Do you think perhaps we should reschedule or cancel the show?”
“No,” she said quickly. “Don’t even think that. I know that Aaron can do this.”
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Candace laughed in a way that made Harvey nervous. “I always know what I’m doing.”
* * *
Aaron studied the lizard sunning on his windowsill. “If it were just Candace and my mother I wouldn’t care much, but it’s not like H.C. to worry,” he said, talking to the creature. “I can’t have that, but Candace knew I wanted to stay out of this fashion thing.” Was she faking this crazy story about sabotage? No, it would be too easy to verify. And she wouldn’t leave a key event, like a high-profile fashion show, just to annoy him. Although he wouldn’t put much past her. She liked to get her way and thought his life was dull. Was this her way of adding some spice?
The lizard looked at him briefly, then darted away. Aaron rested his hands on the window frame and looked out at the ocean. Was it wrong to want a quiet, simple life? His sister always wanted more. More friends, more excitement, more fun. That’s why she trotted across the globe while he stayed on St. James, raising his son. She was the creative one in the family. She was the one who loved fashion and art. She was beautiful, reckless, changeable and irresistible. He’d idolized her so much as a child that, as a grown man, he’d married a woman similar to her, and that had been a disaster.
His marriage to Ina Margarita Sheldon had shown him just how much he and his sister were dissimilar. He was practical and rational and would never change, although his sister continued to try to encourage him to do so. He remembered their conversation last month as they sat on the veranda of the main house, where he and his son lived. His mother and sister each had their own separate small three-bedroom chalet, located several hundred feet away from his residence, but Candace always liked to stop by to chat, scold or tease him, depending on her mood.
“You can do better,” she said, nibbling on a fresh slice of melon. A large pink pinwheel hat shaded her face.
“What are you talking about?” Aaron asked as he watched his sister make her way through the plate full of fruit.
“Mary, the new woman you’re seeing.”
Aaron shook his head and speared a mango cube. “Her name is Martha Banyan.”
“And she’s a librarian.”
“She’s a teacher.” He pointed his fork at her. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I’m glad you did. I would have found out anyway. You know news travels fast on this island. I just know you can do better.”
Aaron set his fork down, no longer interested in eating. “I thought you’d be impressed.”
“Impressed by what? Plain, boring, dull—”
“She’s pretty and sweet.”
“I wasn’t talking about how she looks. I was talking about her clothes.”
“Not all women are interested in fashion like you, or can afford to change their wardrobe every season.”
Candace made a face. “There’s no need to exaggerate.”
Aaron grinned. “I thought I was being conservative.”
Candace rolled her eyes and swung her foot. “She’s just not the right one for you.”
Aaron sat back and folded his arms, trying to keep his tone neutral, although his sister’s criticism bothered him. “I thought you’d at least be happy for me. You’re the one who’s been pressuring me to start dating again.”
“Settling for the first woman who said yes was not what I meant.”
Aaron frowned. “I’m not settling.”
“She’s everything Ina isn’t.”
“Exactly.” He speared a large slice of pineapple with his fork.
“You shouldn’t sound so proud of it.” Candace waved her fork at him before she stabbed another melon slice. “You’re going to get bored with her. You’re a lot wilder than you think, little brother. Remember, you’ve got the blood of a pirate running through you.”
“I’m nothing like our ancestor,” Aaron said, picking up his fork again, feeling suddenly restless. He hated the comparison. It made him seem more mysterious than he actually was. “That’s what disappointed Ina the most. She thought she was marrying someone else.” Early in their marriage, he discovered she had bought into their ancestral history and thought she had married a “rogue,” and was very disappointed.
“She was stupid. She didn’t know what she had.”
“Martha is good with Brandon.”
“Of course she is,” Candace said, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. “She’s a librarian, for goodness’ sake.”
“Teacher,” Aaron corrected.
“See?” Candace waved her hand again, as if he’d just proven her point. “She’s paid to be good with children.”
“And she’s smart and—”
Candace shook her head again. “And she’s still wrong for you.”
“She loves this island as much as I do, she likes my son and she likes me.”
Candace set her fork down. “Are you thinking of marrying her?”
“It’s too soon for that, but—”
“But you’re thinking about it?” She removed her sunglasses and stared directly at him.
“I’m ready to marry again,” he said, avoiding her gaze.
Candace sighed and folded her arms. “Promise me one thing.”
He looked at her. “What?”
“Don’t get too serious about her until after the fashion show.”
A month later, Candace’s words still echoed in his head. Aaron turned from the window, trying to let the memory of that talk fade, but it wouldn’t leave him. He still found the request odd. He was a grown man. He didn’t need his older sister’s blessing on anything. But he still remembered the look on her face when she asked him to wait until after the show. He recalled how sly she looked. But if she thought surrounding him with an endless supply of beautiful women would change his mind, she’d be disappointed. But would she go this far to get him involved? He sighed when he heard a quiet knock on the door.
“Come in,” he said, returning to his desk.
His eight-year-old son, Brandon, entered and he felt some of his annoyance subside. His son was the only thing he didn’t regret about his marriage. “What is it?” he asked with a smile.
Brandon bit his lip. “Promise you won’t get mad.”
“I can’t promise you that, but tell me anyway.”
“I’ve looked everywhere.”
Aaron’s smile fell. “Looked for what?”
“Can you please promise not to get mad?” Brandon said, nervously playing with his fingers and turning his feet inward.
He stood. “Brandon.”
“At least don’t shout,” he said, straightening his shoulders and trying to look brave.
Aaron folded his arms. “What happened?”
Brandon hung his head and spoke to the floor. “Trident is missing.”
Chapter 2 (#ulink_5d713563-2dd7-5ac6-b4a5-10b1caead029)
As a child, Rebecca Cromwell feared the monster under the bed. At twenty-nine, she finally saw it. It was the last straw. Her nerves were already frayed due to three days where everything had gone wrong. Since landing on St. James, she’d faced one mishap after another and feared that the latest incident would severely hamper the success of her upcoming fashion show.
She’d hoped for some time to decompress, since over the past three days she’d hardly slept or eaten. After scrambling to find replacements for the three models she’d lost, she’d decided to take a long, hot shower and enjoy one of the luxurious amenities in her spacious suite. It was one of thirty private villas that lined the secluded cove where Red Beacon Villa Resorts was located. She could see the sun’s rays dancing along the crystal clear waters from one of her many palatial windows.
Humming to herself, she’d left her bathroom and crossed the cool bare marble floors, and she’d planned on a quick nap when she saw a green head with dark eyes peek out from the shadowy depths under her bed. She screamed and jumped on the mattress. That’s when she thought that being on top of the monster was worse than seeing the monster, so she jumped off the bed and up on a chair.
“Rebecca!” Her assistant, Kelli Davis, pounded on her front door. “Are you okay?”
“It’s open.”
Kelli rushed into the room with her hair uncombed, half-dressed, her shirt still hanging off her shoulder and jeans unzipped. She stared up at her. “What’s wrong?”
Rebecca pointed with a shaky finger. “There’s something under my bed.”
Kelli grinned. “Giant dust bunnies?”
“No, something big and green. Don’t look!” she said when Kelli bent down to look under the bed.
“Then how am I supposed to see what it is?”
“I already told you what it is.”
Kelli ignored her and lifted the sheet, then screamed, stumbling back. “Oh, my God, you’re right. It’s huge. We have to kill it.” She madly looked around for something to grab, just in case the thing came out from under the bed and tried to attack her, but couldn’t find anything.
“I’m not going to kill it.”
“Then what are you going to do?” Kelli finished zipping up her pants and adjusted her top.
“Get someone to get rid of it.” Rebecca jumped down from the chair and ran out the front door, and smack into a wall. Or what she’d at first thought was a wall before something grabbed her and kept her from falling backward. She gingerly touched her face, her nose still stinging from the impact, then glanced up and nearly screamed again.
It was him. Mr. Beautiful. Mr. Wonderful. The man who’d once been the object of her dreams. Her hero—Aaron Wethers. The man who’d broken her heart ten years ago.
Just like everything else in his life, time seemed to have given him an advantage, broadening his shoulders, refining his impressive physique. The wind and the sun seemed to have ripened the beauty of his brown skin, making his handsome features almost majestic. And her traitorous heart responded to his compelling, golden-brown gaze.
She knew she’d see him again, but she hadn’t planned on a moment like this. She had planned on returning to St. James as a success, so that he could see how much she’d changed. She’d planned to be cool and suave, and hoped to seduce him by showing off her gorgeous figure, casting a glance in his direction then ignoring him. But now her show was in trouble and she’d crashed into him after racing out of her villa with no makeup on, her hair in total disarray and wearing just her bathrobe.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Goodness, even his voice was better than she remembered. Deep and intoxicating as rum punch, his island lilt made her want to step closer and listen more. “I’m fine,” Rebecca said in a voice that was too high. She gathered her robe close around her and tightened the sash, wishing she’d at least put on her bra and panties, but she hadn’t, and at that moment she felt vulnerable and bare. “Perfectly fine,” she said with a wave of her hand. She tried to brush her hair into place, but it wouldn’t cooperate.
“Fine?” Kelli squealed behind her. “There’s a giant—”
“It’s nothing,” Rebecca said with a light laugh, seeing that all the commotion was attracting an audience. It was then that she saw a miniature version of Aaron looking anxious beside him. The little boy looked up at Aaron, then her, then his gaze dropped to the ground. Rebecca immediately guessed the situation. Her monster was likely his pet. And it had escaped. Rebecca knew how they responded could really hurt Aaron’s image if other guests knew what she and Kelli had found.
Rebecca bent down to the little boy’s level and said in a low voice, “You look worried, but you don’t have to be. It’s okay.”
He lifted his gaze to hers, his big brown eyes hopeful. “You found Trident?”
“I think so,” Rebecca whispered, aware that people were watching them closely. “But you’ll have to check.”
Aaron shook his head. “I’m really so—”
Rebecca straightened and screamed again, this time like a woman arriving at an airport and seeing a long-lost friend. “It’s so good to see you again,” she said, hugging the little boy, even though he looked at her, startled. “You’ve grown so tall!” She turned to Aaron and screamed like a fashionista seeing an outfit she adored, then hugged him, too. “It’s been ages, darling. Kiss, kiss.” She kissed his cheeks, then waved them inside. “Come in, come in.” She glanced at an older couple who watched them with a frown. She winked at them, then turned. Once they were all inside, she closed the door and pointed to the bed. “Trident is under there.”
The little boy looked up at her, curious. “Why did you scream and hug us like that?”
“Because I didn’t want people asking questions.”
He giggled. “You acted really silly. Like one of Aunt Candace’s friends.”
Aaron nudged him. “You shouldn’t be laughing. What should you be saying?”
“Oh, yes. I’m sorry, miss.”
Rebecca nodded. “You’re forgiven.”
“Now go get Trident,” Aaron said.
The little boy rushed forward and lifted the sheets. “Trident, you’re in big trouble.”
“I’m very sorry about this,” Aaron said.
“What is it?” Rebecca asked, once the boy had coaxed the creature from under the bed.
“A giant iguana. He must have snuck in when they were cleaning your villa. The maids keep the door open to air the room,” Aaron said with a note of apology.
“I understand how he got in, but how are you going to get him out of here without anyone noticing? I assume you don’t want anyone to know that Trident escaped.”
Aaron ran a tired hand down his face, then looked around as if considering his options. “You’re right.” He looked at the little boy. “Didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on him?”
“I’m really sorry, Dad.”
Even though she’d guessed that the little boy was his, hearing him call Aaron Dad validated her assumption. Strangely, fatherhood looked good on him. Rebecca mentally shook her head. She didn’t care. She’d come to St. James to show him what a success she had become and what he’d lost. She would remain calm, collected and distant. “I have an idea, but you have to wait. First, I have to change.” Rebecca excused herself, grabbed some clothes from her closet, then disappeared into the bathroom.
“Get a hold of yourself,” Rebecca mumbled to herself as she quickly changed. “It doesn’t matter that he’s still gorgeous or that he has a cute little boy. He doesn’t even remember you. The jerk.” She stared at her reflection. “You are going to help him this one time, and then you’re going to ignore him. You didn’t come here to fall for him all over again. Your career and this fashion show are all that matter.” She pointed at her image. “Are we clear?” She quickly massaged ointment in her hair and put on some lip gloss, then left the bathroom, ready to deal with the issue at hand.
She told Aaron her idea. At first he was skeptical, but then he agreed. He called the maid service and requested they bring a large laundry trolley to the villa. When it arrived, Aaron set Trident inside, then Rebecca and the maid covered the iguana with several sheets and towels. “Now nobody will ever know I had a surprise visitor,” Rebecca said, pleased.
Aaron looked at the maid. “You know what to do. Make it quick. He can’t be under there too long.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The little boy took Rebecca’s hand. “Come on.”
Aaron grabbed his son’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”
Brandon looked up at his father, affronted. “I’m going to show her where Trident lives.”
“You have to ask permission first.”
“Oh, right,” he said, looking contrite. “Dad, can I take her to show—”
“No, you have to ask her permission.”
The little boy turned to Rebecca. “Can I show you where Trident lives?”
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca said. “But I have a lot to do today. Perhaps another time.”
The little boy looked disappointed but nodded. “Okay. I’ll come back later.”
“No,” Aaron said. “You’ll call and make sure she’s free.”
“But, Dad—”
“We’ll talk about this later. Go.”
The little boy sighed, started to leave, then turned. “I didn’t tell you my name. I’m Brandon Wethers,” he said, holding out his hand.
“I’m Rebecca Cromwell.”
“Do you have any kids?”
“No.”
“Are you married?”
Aaron nudged him toward the door. “That’s enough.”
“My dad’s not married.”
Aaron shoved him a little harder. “Get out of here.”
“I’m just trying to help. Aunt Candace says women always want to know that about you.”
Aaron held up his hand. “One more word, and I will get angry.”
Brandon nodded, then waved. “Bye, Miss Rebecca.”
Rebecca grinned. “Bye.”
Brandon looked at her for a long moment, then tugged on his father’s shirt. Aaron bent down, and the boy whispered something in his ear.
“No,” Aaron said.
Brandon gripped his hands together. “Please.”
“Go home.”
Brandon made a face, then left.
“Your son is a character,” Kelli said, walking up to Aaron. “But he had the right idea. You’ve already met Rebecca, but let me introduce myself. I’m Kelli Davis.” She held out her hand like a canary offering herself to a cat. The red highlights in her black hair caught the light, and she lowered and raised her eyes in a way that made her interest clear. She had taken the time, during all the commotion, to make sure she looked presentable.
He shook her hand. “Aaron Wethers.”
She grinned. “It’s nice to know we have something in common.”
“And what’s that?”
She winked. “I’m not married, either.”
Aaron nodded, making no indication what he thought of her statement, and turned to Rebecca. “There’s no excuse for what just happened. Let me offer you a complimentary dinner and spa treatment at the VIP lounge.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Rebecca said, embarrassed by her assistant’s flirtation.
“Yes, it is. I was just made aware of the other troubles you’ve had since you arrived, and this incident with my son’s pet iguana is unacceptable. I’m looking into what’s going on.” He pulled out his wallet and gave her a card. “Just give them this.”
“You really don’t—”
His cell phone rang, interrupting her. “I have to take this. Excuse me,” he said, then walked outside.
Rebecca nodded and watched him leave.
Kelli snatched the card from her and studied it. “You lucky girl. A free dinner and spa.”
“You can have it.”
Kelli stared at her, surprised. “Why?”
He didn’t remember her. She’d hoped her name would have meant something, but saying it hadn’t triggered a memory. Not even a little. Of course, it had been ten years, but when they had met, it had been such a monumental moment in her life. She had hoped she’d made some impact on him. What was the point of trying to ignore him or show him how successful she’d become when he didn’t even know who she was? “I’ll be too busy to use it,” Rebecca said.
Kelli eagerly tucked the card away, as if she were afraid Rebecca would change her mind. “Well, if you’re sure.”
“I’m positive,” Rebecca said, then reached out and pinched her.
“Ow!” Kelli said, rubbing her arm. “What did you do that for?”
“Because you know I hate when you flirt in front of me. I don’t care what you do on your own time, but when you’re with me I expect you to be a professional.”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I mean, don’t you think—”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. His family owns this resort and—”
Kelli started to fan herself. “Oh, yes, he’s Candace’s brother. Just my type.”
Yes, Candace’s brother. Candace had tried to bring up the subject of her brother with Rebecca numerous times, since the first day they’d arrived, but she’d always found a way to avoid the topic, preferring to pretend that she’d decided to host her collection at their resort because it was convenient rather than because of their shared past. And with the recent mishaps, it hadn’t been hard for her to focus on something other than him. Now Candace was gone, and Aaron had taken her place. Rebecca couldn’t afford to have anything else go wrong. Worst of all, she didn’t want him to see her as the helpless damsel she’d been all those years ago.
“Find someone else.”
Kelli raised a brow. “Are you interested?”
“No. I just don’t want you distracted. We’re here on business.”
“I’ll be discreet, then.”
“Good.”
Kelli folded her arms, sending Rebecca a significant look. “Are you sure you’re not interested?”
“I don’t have time to be interested in anyone.”
“It’s been two years since your breakup. Don’t you think—”
“I think you have too much time on your hands. I want to take a nap before I meet with the stage director.”
Kelli sighed and left. But Rebecca didn’t take a nap. She couldn’t sleep. Kelli was on the prowl, and Rebecca couldn’t blame her. Aaron was a worthy target. She’d been just as eager to get his attention ten years ago, but for a different reason...
Ten years ago
It was really hard to run in three-inch high heels. Even harder to run on a boat, away from a drunken college sophomore she had only just met that evening, who wanted to bed as many coeds as he could on spring break. “Come on, don’t be like that,” he said. Although his words were slurred, his pace was incredibly steady.
“I said leave me alone!” Rebecca shouted over her shoulder. She could see the lights of the island in the distance. The sun had set an hour ago, but there was still a purple haze that colored the sky. She knew she couldn’t make a swim for it. She wished she hadn’t decided to go on the two-level rental party boat and had stayed in her room with her roommate, Marie, instead.
“I just think we’ll have a good time together,” she had told Marie.
She’d heard the rumors and knew what some of the boys expected. Her two other friends were already giving his buddies “good times” somewhere on the boat, but this wasn’t the kind of holiday she’d been hoping for. She’d wanted to go sailing, laze on the beach, shop in one of the crowded outdoor markets. Instead, she’d found herself getting crushed at a keg party, and now running from a drunken college guy who had arms like an octopus. One of those arms reached her and pulled her to him.
“You know, your little act is getting old.”
Rebecca tried to shove him away. He smelled of stale aftershave and beer. “It’s not an act. I’m not interested.”
He looked her over. “It’s not like you should be picky. There are prettier girls out here.”
“Then find one of them.” She tried hard to push him off her, but he held her even closer.
“Why? I’ve got you right here.” He leaned in to kiss her.
She bit his lip.
He swore and shoved her back, calling her a foul name. “You think that was funny?” he said, touching his lip and seeing blood on his fingers.
“I warned you.” But the look in his eyes let her know that her warning had only enraged him. She started running again, getting enough distance to turn a corner out of sight, but she knew there was no cabin room for her to hide in. So she grabbed the rail and swung herself over the side of the boat, hoping that he would pass her without looking down. She heard his footsteps. Heard him swear and then disappear below deck. She held on a little longer, but soon felt her grip slipping. She started to lift herself back up, glad for the cardio class she’d started to take on campus. She had nearly pulled herself all the way up when the chaser popped up and said, “Gotcha!”
His sudden presence startled her. She lost her grip and started to fall backward. He reached out to grab her, but his attempt was clumsy and had too much force. He managed to grip her sleeve and pulled her forward instead of up, and she hit her head before the soft material of her dress ripped in his fingers and she fell into the water, unconscious.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_54131bda-b98b-5d20-8263-4f2bd5f6597e)
Rebecca woke up to the sound of voices. When she opened her eyes, she found she was on a rescue craft, and a young man, dripping wet, leaned over her. “You’re going to be okay. No, don’t sit up,” he said gently, pulling her jacket closer together. Then she remembered she hadn’t been wearing a jacket—especially not a man’s dinner jacket. She looked up at him and saw his white shirt plastered to his muscled chest. She couldn’t really place him. He looked much older than the college crowd. “What happened?”
“I saw you go overboard,” he said in a rich island lilt.
“And you saved me?” she said with awe. “I could have been attacked by a shark, or stung by jellyfish or drowned.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up in a quick grin. “I did what anyone would have done. But you have to be more careful. How much have you had to drink?”
“Nothing.”
“Then what were you doing hanging over the side of the boat?”
“I was trying to get away—” She stiffened and sat up too fast. She held her head as the world started to spin.
He reached out to steady her. “I told you to keep still.”
“But where is he? I made him so angry.”
The man gently pushed her back down. “Relax. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
“He wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“He will now,” he said in a grim tone. “And the next time someone bothers you, you just come to me...” He lifted his brow in a question.
“Becca,” she said.
He nodded. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re safe now.”
“Who are you?”
“Aaron.”
She wanted to ask him more questions, but the boat landed on the island before she could. The EMTs rushed to meet them. Her rescuer spoke to one of the police officers on the scene while one of the EMTs assessed her, taking her vital signs and applying some ointment to the bruise on her forehead. He tried to encourage her to go to the hospital, but she declined. “I just want to go home and go to sleep.”
“You’ve suffered a mild concussion, and going home and sleeping wouldn’t be a good idea,” he said. “Do you have someone who can be with you through the night?”
“No, but—”
“Then it’s best that you come with us.” The EMTs began to lead her to the waiting ambulance.
“Please, please,” she said, starting to panic. “I really don’t want to.”
“What’s going on here?” Aaron asked, joining them.
The EMT told him the situation. Aaron looked at her. “And you really don’t want to go to the hospital? They’ll treat you well.”
“No,” she said. “The last time I saw my mother was in a hospital, and it’s a painful place for me.”
“Okay. I’ll look after her,” he said when the EMT started to protest. He waved her forward. “Come on,” he said, then started walking.
“I’ll really be okay by myself,” Rebecca said. “Besides, I have a roommate. She can watch me.” Rebecca wasn’t sure if Marie would still be in their hotel room, or if she would be out partying in town. But she wasn’t going to share that bit of knowledge with him.
He extended his hand and took hers in his. “I’m not going to take that risk. And you don’t have to worry—you won’t be alone with me. People know me on this island.”
That certainly wasn’t a worry for her. She could tell by the way the EMTs reacted to him that he was a man people respected. She wondered how long he’d lived on the island and why he’d been on the rental boat. Or was he a foreign vacationer like her? He was the complete opposite of the man who’d been chasing her. But no, man was the wrong word. The college drunk had been a boy. Aaron definitely was a man. A gentleman, and that was rare nowadays. He treated her with kindness and made her feel safe. She couldn’t stop looking at him. He was like a designer coat marked down to half price—completely irresistible.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company,” he said as he walked over to a motorcycle that leaned up against a stone fence and lifted the one helmet he had. “Maybe I should call a taxi for you.”
“No, I’ll be okay.”
He handed her the helmet and helped her close the latch before sitting on the bike. When she didn’t move, he looked at her, concerned. “What’s the matter?”
“I’ve never ridden one of these before.”
Aaron’s face split into a wide grin. “I’m not expecting you to drive it.” He patted the bike with affection. “She hugs the road and purrs like a kitten. I’ve never had a problem with her. You’ll be safe with me.” He raised a brow. “You sure you don’t want me to call a taxi?”
Rebecca closed her hands into fists. She had no reason to be nervous, but suddenly she was. Not because of the bike, but because of the man. On the boat and talking to the EMT, he’d look civilized, but on the bike, with his rakish grin, he had a devilish air. But he’d saved her life, and people knew him. Maybe her imagination was just running wild because of the darkening sky and the warm Caribbean breeze. She took a deep breath, then got on and sat behind him.
“You have to hold on,” he said.
“What?”
He grabbed her arms and wrapped them around his waist. “I want you to hold on tight. I can’t have you falling off the bike now, can I? Ready?”
She could feel the heat of his skin through his wet shirt, and the muscles of his back pressed to her chest. “Yes.”
He revved up the machine, then drove through some of the island’s back roads. She’d never seen some of those places before. Too soon he stopped the motorcycle and shut off the engine.
“We’re here already?” she said, disappointed.
Aaron laughed. “I thought you’d be glad.”
“I was just starting to have fun.” She took off the helmet.
“Maybe I’ll treat you to a longer ride next time,” he said, taking the helmet from her and setting it aside.
Rebecca knew he was saying that just to be nice, but she truly hoped he would. She was about to say so when she looked up and finally saw where they were. A large mansion loomed before her—a mansion with a dark history. “I thought you were taking me back to the hotel.” She raced up to Aaron and grabbed his arm. “Wait, where are you going?”
“I’m going inside.”
“You can’t go inside,” she said in a low hiss.
He looked down at her, confused. “Why not?”
“I read about this place,” she said, casting an uneasy glance at the large structure. “No one on the island comes to this place. It’s owned by this wealthy family who are said to be descendants of the famous pirate Pierre LaCroix.”
Rebecca went on to tell the story she had heard about how in the early 1600s, a free black man from France, Pierre LaCroix, traveled to St. James. He immediately fell in love with both the people and the land. That was before Spain discovered and decided to claim the island as part of its sovereignty. Pierre LaCroix fought along with the people, but when faced with defeat, he escaped and became a pirate instead. He was never captured by the Spanish, who were eventually overrun by the British. “This house belongs to his descendants, who got rich from the gold and jewelry Pierre plundered from Spanish and British ships he and his fellow pirates attacked.”
He rested his hands on his hips, amused. “Really?”
“It’s even been said that the ghost of LaCroix chooses the bride for the eldest male of the family, and if he doesn’t marry the woman selected, he falls to ruin.”
Aaron’s expression changed, and his voice deepened. “If you’re really frightened, it’s not too late to go to the hospital.”
“Why would I do that? I’m not frightened of you, just of this place.”
Aaron blinked and didn’t move. It took her a moment to realize that the pose reminded her of something. Or rather, someone. In her search to find information about the island, she’d seen a picture of the pirate Pierre LaCroix, and Aaron now looked eerily like him. Like a man who could laugh at a hundred-foot ocean wave, handle a knife with ease and seduce a woman with just a look. Her heart dropped to her feet. “Oh, no. You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“I thought you were here on holiday like me,” she said, quickly trying to cover her mistake. But she couldn’t tell whether she’d made him annoyed or angry. His face held a blank expression, but his golden-brown gaze hadn’t lost its intensity. “What were you doing on the boat?” she asked.
“One of the chaperones fell ill and I stepped in.”
“I see. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m used to it.” He jerked his thumb to the door. “Are you ready to go in now, or do you want to tell me some more ghost stories?”
Rebecca covered her face, embarrassed. “I’ve had a traumatic experience. I cannot be accountable for anything I say.”
He laughed and took her hand. “Come on.”
A maid greeted them the moment they entered. “Please take her to the TV room,” Aaron said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Rebecca followed the woman, in awe of her surroundings, amazed that it wasn’t as foreboding as she’d imagined and feeling even more embarrassed that he felt he had to look after her. She didn’t want to be a bother.
“You brought her here?” she heard a woman say.
“Keep your voice down,” Aaron said. “She could hear you.”
“But why didn’t you just take her back to her room?”
“Because I didn’t think it would be appropriate for me to spend the night in one of the guests’ bedrooms.”
“You could have just asked one of the staff to stay with her. You didn’t have to look after her yourself. You should have convinced her to go to the hospital.”
“She doesn’t like hospitals, and she’s one of our guests. Besides, it shouldn’t have happened.”
“Oh, Aaron,” a younger female said. “You’re such an old man. Things like this happen all the time.”
“All our guests should be safe. I knew those party boats would be a problem.”
“What are you so worked up about? They’re not even part of our business. If she wants to sue, she can sue them—what happened has nothing to do with us. You always take on more responsibility than necessary. Send her home.”
“Not until I’m sure she’s okay. I just wanted you to know why she’s here, not for you to try to change my mind.”
“Well, you certainly need to change your clothes,” the older woman said. “You’re dripping water everywhere.”
He snapped his fingers. “Oh, right, she needs clothes. Candace, could you give her something?”
“Aaron,” the older woman said, irritated. “Just have the staff go to her room and get some of her things.”
“Mum, it’d take too long. She could catch a chill and get sick.”
“What chill? It’s perfectly warm, and I doubt she’s that delicate,” the younger woman added. “You’re such a protector.”
“I don’t have time for this. I have to go change and then keep an eye on her. Will you help me or not?”
“Okay, just this once.”
Rebecca pretended to watch TV when she heard his footsteps. He stopped and looked in on her. “Why aren’t you sitting down?”
“I didn’t want to get the sofa wet.”
“Right, I’m sorry,” he said, looking contrite. “I forgot about that. My sister will have something for you to wear in a minute. I’m just going to get changed, and I’ll be right back.”
“You really don’t—” she started, but he’d left before she could finish.
Rebecca looked around the elegant room, feeling even more awkward than before. If his family didn’t want her there, maybe she should have gone to the hospital. She felt fine. She wasn’t nauseous and was steady on her feet, and she didn’t like feeling like a stray cat he’d found.
She put his jacket down, then poked her head out into the hallway. No one was around, and if she left, then the problem would be solved. She started to tiptoe to the doorway when she heard an amused female voice. “That’s not a good idea.”
She turned around and saw an attractive young woman, a little older than Aaron, grinning at her. “He’ll just come and find you.” She held out several clothing items. “Just get changed, and get used to being here.”
“But I’m really okay,” Rebecca said, reluctantly taking the clothes.
“My brother takes his responsibilities seriously,” the woman said, leading Rebecca to a bathroom. “He’s going to look after you until the morning, so you might as well get used to the idea. I’m Candace, by the way. If you haven’t figured it out by now, my family owns the hotel where you’re staying.”
“Rebecca,” she said, following the woman’s example. Rebecca walked into the bathroom, then turned to her. “This is all so embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing? You have no idea how many girls would love to be in your shoes.” She winked and then closed the door.
Resigned, Rebecca changed, then looked at her torn dress. She’d designed it herself, but the stitching hadn’t been strong enough. She’d have to take better care in the future. She didn’t want them to think she’d fallen overboard on purpose. Then her thoughts turned back to her rescuer. He was wonderful, and she could understand why he’d be a hot catch, but she didn’t want to give him or his family the wrong impression. But since she was going to have to stay, she decided she’d make the best of it.
In truth, she was curious to know more about him and wanted to spend as much time with him as she could. Once she put on the skirt and top Candace had handed her, she looked in the mirror and wasn’t too surprised by the image she saw. She looked terrible. While the skirt and top would look stunning on the other woman’s tall willowy frame, Rebecca looked awkward and dumpy because she was almost a foot shorter and a little wider.
But she was used to wearing secondhand clothes, and as a fashion major she knew that clothes could be made to fit the woman. She rolled up the skirt at the waist, so it fell shorter, just above her knees. Then she folded up the arms of the top and pulled and tied it in the back, then looked at her reflection, satisfied. She heard a quick knock on the door. “Can I come in?” Candace asked.
“Yes.”
Candace came in holding a bottle in one hand and a hair dryer in the other. She stopped and stared at her. “Wow, I’ve never seen those items worn like that before.”
Rebecca shrugged. “I had to make some adjustments, but don’t worry, none of the changes are permanent.”
Candace walked around her, impressed. “Very creative.” She set the hair dryer and bottle of moisturizer down. “I thought you might want this for your hair.”
“Thanks.” Once Candace left, Rebecca plugged in the blow dryer, then lathered her bare skin with some of the moisturizer. She had exchanged her heels for a pair of plush slippers once she had entered the house and felt more comfortable. Before leaving the bathroom, Rebecca checked her reflection. With the help of the blow dryer, her hair looked slightly tamed, and she had wiped off her smudged makeup. That would have to do, she thought with a shrug, then left. She found Aaron sitting in front of the TV dressed in khaki pants and a T-shirt. When he turned and looked at her, he stood up and smiled. “Now you look much better.”
Rebecca looked down at herself. “Liar.”
He rested his hand on his chest as if she’d wounded him. “Why would I lie?”
“Because you’re sweet.”
He winced. “Ouch, you really know how to hurt a man’s ego. You want the truth?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He handed her a phone. “Here.”
“What’s that for?”
“In case you want to call someone and let them know you’re okay.”
“Oh, right,” she said, taking the phone. “Thanks.” She dialed her friend Marie and told her what had happened.
“You really should go to the hospital,” Marie said after Rebecca had finished. “I heard something bad happened on that boat.”
“Shh, I’m all right,” Rebecca said, wishing that Marie didn’t have a habit of shouting over the phone.
“Who is this guy? What if he made up his story about chaperoning the boat and plans to take advantage of you?”
Rebecca glanced over at Aaron, who continued watching TV, hoping he couldn’t overhear her friend. “I’ve already met his sister, and his mother’s here, too,” she said in a low voice, hoping Marie would take a hint and do the same. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
“But what if they’re not really related to the owners, and they’re a group of cons who prey on tourists and—”
Rebecca inwardly groaned, regretting her choice to call. Maybe she should have told her a different story. Marie had a wilder imagination than she did. “I’m okay. The reason I called you was so that you wouldn’t worry. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Just remember that if he tries anything, go for the soft spots and—”
“Good night,” Rebecca said before disconnecting. She handed the phone back to Aaron, then sat down.
Aaron replaced the phone and sat beside her. “What soft spots should you go for?”
Rebecca felt her face burn. “You heard that?”
“Couldn’t help it. I think I could hear your friend over a hurricane warning.”
“She just worries sometimes.”
Aaron nodded, then pointed to the TV. “You can watch whatever you want.”
“I don’t watch much TV,” Rebecca said, glancing around the room. She pointed to a covered table near the wall where a framed item sat. She saw a miniature three-dimensional scene of people taking a picture in the cove. “What’s that?”
“Oh, just one of my hobbies.”
She walked over to it. “It’s beautiful. What is it called?”
“A diorama.”
“Do you have others?”
Aaron looked at her, skeptical. “You really want to see them? My job is to keep you awake, not put you to sleep.”
“I won’t fall asleep. I’m really curious.”
“Okay.” He lifted up the tablecloth and set three more dioramas on the table.
Rebecca bent down and studied their intricate details.
“I base some of them on stories like Treasure Island or Robinson Crusoe, but I mostly like showing scenes of nature,” Aaron said after a while, as if he was made uncomfortable by her silence.
She turned to him. “You really love this island, don’t you?”
“It’s my life.”
“You remind me of my grandmother.”
Aaron frowned and started to put the dioramas away, annoyed. “Because this is the hobby of an old woman?”
“No, because you create beautiful things. My grandmother is one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known. I’m a fashion design major because of her. She couldn’t afford much, but she always made me look and feel good. Even when other kids would make fun of a sweater she created, I didn’t care, because every time I put something on that she made, I knew I was loved. She’d take my sister and me to the park and just look at birds, and gain inspiration for a dress or blouse. She’d race home and gather different cloths and materials and create something amazing. She lives life with passion. Just like you.”
“No one has ever said that to me before. I’m not really—”
“But you are,” Rebecca interrupted. “Looking at what you’ve created makes me want to be an inch tall so that I can escape into this world. I can see your love of this island and the people here. You’re so talented. I wish I could create something this intricate.”
“They are really not that difficult to make. It just takes some patience. Want me to show you?”
“Yes.”
All through the night Aaron eagerly showed Rebecca his collection of art materials and selection of intricate hand tools he used, and walked her through the basic steps to making a diorama. Then they spent the rest of the time sharing their hopes and dreams.
He told her about his vision to expand his family’s hotel into an international holiday resort; she told him how she hoped to travel the world and become a famous designer one day. She made him laugh with her imitations of her various college roommates and professors, and her grandmother.
“I know your mother died in a hospital, but what about your father?” Aaron finally asked. “You only talk about your grandmother.”
“He’s gone, too. He died when I was three. But don’t feel sorry for me. My grandmother and sister love me enough for both my parents.”
Aaron pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. “How do you feel?”
At that moment she felt hot, but not from illness. She adjusted her position and moved out of his reach. “Good. I was sleepy before, but now I’m having so much fun, I’m not even thinking about what happened.”
He looked at the small scene she was completing, which consisted of a palm tree and what looked like a baby seal, sunning on a beach.
“It’s not very good,” she said. “But at least I’ve enjoyed making it.”
“You’re doing a great job, and it’s almost morning so I think you’ll be safe.”
“You want me to go now?”
“No, not yet,” he said with a smile. “I just didn’t want you to be worried about having to stay here too much longer.”
“Why not? I like it here. You’re fun.”
He laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“No one has ever said that to me, either. You really are a strange one.”
“How can that be strange? You are fun.”
He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “Thanks, I really needed to hear that. You’re sweet.” He stood. “Let me go get us something to eat.”
When Aaron returned carrying a large tray filled with bowls of fruit, hot cereal and toast, she could hardly eat. She couldn’t focus. He’d kissed her. Sure, it was on the forehead and like a kiss a big brother would give a little sister, but that didn’t matter. He’d kissed her.
He’d not only saved her life and listened to her stories, he made her feel special. No one had ever made her feel that way before.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_d6112dd0-30da-5a54-b088-9322865cbbbb)
Rebecca returned to her hotel room madly in love. Over the next three days, she saw him around the hotel, but except for a casual nod, she didn’t catch his attention, even though she tried. She took great pains to make sure her hair was styled and her makeup was done right, and dressed up in her most attractive outfits. When another recent attempt failed, Rebecca sat and watched him from a distance.
“Stop that,” Marie said as the two lounged in an outdoor café.
Rebecca looked at her friend, surprised. Marie had a face as exciting as wet cardboard and an attitude to match, but Rebecca liked her anyway. “What am I doing?”
“Sighing. Whoever he is, he’s not interested. Forget about him.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s completely out of your reach. Besides, he probably has his pick of women anyway. Why would he choose you?”
“I say you should go for it,” Candace said, coming up to sit at their table.
“Why?” Marie challenged, looking at the woman with suspicion.
Candace shrugged. “Why not?”
“Why don’t you go for him?” Marie asked.
Candace made a face. “Because he’s my brother, and that would just be gross.”
“Marie, this is Candace,” Rebecca said, making the introductions. “Candace, Marie.” After the two women shook hands, Rebecca said, “You really think I have a chance with Aaron?”
“Yes.” Candace looked over Rebecca’s dress. “Did you make that?”
“Yes.”
“I like your style. You’ve got a great eye for color.” She grinned. “You know I like you, and I want to help you.”
“Help me?”
“Yes. To get my brother. He needs someone like you.”
Rebecca leaned in closer with hope and longing. “Really?”
“Yes.” She lowered her voice. “He’s just getting over a really bad breakup and has been miserable. She was awful to him, but that night you were with him, you made him smile, and that’s not easy to do. Actually, we’re all worried about him.”
“Worried?”
“He really loved the other woman, and he may do something reckless. I think you’ll help him forget her. They’d been together two years, and she never once told him she loved him. He’s aching for a woman to tell him that.”
Rebecca felt her heart racing. She hated the thought of Aaron being sad or someone hurting him. She’d do whatever it took to make him smile again. She knew he was the one for her. “Tell me what I can do.”
* * *
“I don’t like this,” Marie said the next evening as she sat on her bed and watched Rebecca put on her lipstick.
“You’ve already said that ten times.”
Marie drew up her legs and rested her chin on her knees. “How do you know you can trust her?”
Rebecca put her lipstick away. “She’s been nice to me, and why wouldn’t you believe her?”
“Because she’s beautiful. Beautiful women don’t know what it’s like for the rest of us, and they can’t be trusted.”
“You sound jealous.”
“I’m not really. I’m just worried about you.”
Rebecca sat on the bed and patted Marie on the head the way she would an affectionate pet. “You’re always worried about me. But don’t be. He’s the one. I know he is.”
“I’ve never seen you like this.”
“I know,” Rebecca said, as surprised as her friend about how strong her feelings were. “That must mean something. I have this feeling that I have to be with him. When I first saw him, I felt this connection.”
“That’s only because you were filled with fear. It was probably just a regular chemical reaction.”
Rebecca shook her head. “No, it wasn’t that. It was something more. I can’t put how I feel into words.” She jumped to her feet, then slowly spun around with her arms held out to the sides. “How do I look?”
“Can I be honest?”
Rebecca stopped turning and let her arms fall. “Do you have to be?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca folded her arms and braced herself for her friend’s criticism. “Then go on.”
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Dara Girard
Island heatTen years ago, Aaron Wethers saved Rebecca Cromwell from drowning on spring break. Enamored by her sexy savior, Rebecca fell short of getting the hard-edged executive interested in turning his role of practical hero into a romantic one. Now his Caribbean resort is hosting Rebecca's fashion collection, and she has two weeks to show Aaron how much she's grown up. Yet instead of enjoying revenge, she's falling hard for the real but enigmatic man behind her long-ago infatuation.Aaron hasn't forgotten the vibrant young student who propositioned him that night. He's left breathless by the self-assured, stunning beauty she's become. Under a blue island sky, they discover a deep, searing connection. But when a series of dangerous events threaten to sabotage her show, can he be the hero she needs now?
Island heat
Ten years ago, Aaron Wethers saved Rebecca Cromwell from drowning on spring break. Enamored by her sexy savior, Rebecca fell short of getting the hard-edged executive interested in turning his role of practical hero into a romantic one. Now his Caribbean resort is hosting Rebecca’s fashion collection, and she has two weeks to show Aaron how much she’s grown up. Yet instead of enjoying revenge, she’s falling hard for the real but enigmatic man behind her long-ago infatuation.
Aaron hasn’t forgotten the vibrant young student who propositioned him that night. He’s left breathless by the self-assured, stunning beauty she’s become. Under a blue island sky, they discover a deep, searing connection. But when a series of dangerous events threaten to sabotage her show, can he be the hero she needs now?
“Tell me how we met. Where?”
Rebecca stopped walking and pointed to the water. “Out there.”
“Out where?”
“In the ocean. Ten years ago you saved me from drowning.” She started walking again. “And when I offered my heart to you, you turned me away.”
He blinked and didn’t move. No, it couldn’t be. “Becca? You’re little Becca?”
She threw out her arms and kept walking, increasing the distance between them. “As you can see, I’m not little anymore. And I know it’s best to stay away from you. You once called me a little mouse.”
“I know,” he said, walking up to her, easily catching up to her.
“Yes, but the little mouse now knows better than to play with the lion.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t mean to hurt you—”
“What’s past is past.”
“And I don’t see you as a mouse anymore.”
She stopped and looked up at him. “I’m glad, because I want you to picture me as something else.”
“What?”
“A dragonfly that you will never catch.”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have every intention of catching you.”
Dear Reader (#ulink_fa5d4c7e-dc2a-5ff6-ab9e-d15fc0a52ce0),
Tales of my great-great-grandfather, a rebel who grew up on the island of Jamaica, helped to flavor my imagination for the arrogant Aaron Wethers in Touch of Paradise. The talented Rebecca Cromwell came to me after I attended a fashion show for a local designer.
This story of sun, sand and seduction led to questions of “What if...”
What if a misunderstanding tore apart two people who were clearly meant for each other? What if a pet iguana helped reunite them? What if someone turned paradise into a dangerous puzzle?
What if...
Well, you get the idea. Finding the answers to these questions led to a journey of twists and turns and the ultimate romance.
Enjoy,
Dara Girard
Touch of Paradise
Dara Girard
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
DARA GIRARD fell in love with storytelling at an early age. Her romance writing career happened by chance when she discovered the power of a happy ending. She is an award-winning author whose novels are known for their sense of humor, interesting plot twists and witty dialogue. When she’s not writing, she enjoys spring mornings and autumn afternoons, French pastries, dancing to the latest hits, and long drives.
Dara loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her at contactdara@daragirard.com or PO Box 10345, Silver Spring, MD 20914.
To my readers.
Contents
Cover (#ub6197e49-cc7b-5626-bdd9-bbf70f4a87ef)
Back Cover Text (#uc7b3006e-2aac-54a2-97e8-bcb1b6f058cc)
Introduction (#u04cd072a-cde4-5ad7-95b2-24abe0f429b8)
Dear Reader (#uce9dd0c0-151b-5968-8c8a-739e2ab6ef17)
Title Page (#uc4b0837b-2fe5-5f75-b3c3-d6d7ddfe2b80)
About the Author (#u3efa8707-0436-53d6-9ec6-3f417e08b721)
Dedication (#ua70fb47f-149a-53f0-b874-af29b43f5daa)
Chapter 1 (#ua71e421d-9e79-5e05-ab79-7c5fbe1c4a87)
Chapter 2 (#u6343758e-a388-5a20-b9ff-efc3e034de05)
Chapter 3 (#u753d4f70-26a5-5ea1-98ae-b67c53314755)
Chapter 4 (#u058fbf90-3085-57d9-800d-2f953c9fb930)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1 (#ulink_bfccf6dc-3a77-52cd-bb96-1e3c4e8a72a3)
The luscious, exotic island of St. James boasted white sand beaches, towering coconut and breadfruit trees and water so blue it put the sky to shame. Red Beacon Villa Resorts sat on the far north side, away from the island’s bustling capital and other major cities. The resort was an international destination that catered to an array of guests and had done so for the past fifty years. Its majestic main house stood proud and welcoming. But while outside a soft Caribbean breeze toyed with the palm trees that surrounded the house’s tall pillars and gleaming windows, a storm raged within.
“She said what?” Aaron Wethers asked, glaring at the man who faced him. A little green lizard sat outside on the windowsill, seeming to look at the two men who sat in the office. One man sat behind a large oak desk decorated with intricate, inlaid gold trim. He was considerably younger than the second man and nearly twice his size, and his steady gaze seemed to make the second man sink lower in his chair.
The second man was Harvey Clark, a name he’d hated since he was a boy, but he’d never had the courage to change it, so he preferred to go by the initials H.C. Harvey wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief and fought not to chew his nails. It was a nervous habit he’d finally conquered in his late forties. The room wasn’t hot, but under Wethers’s stare, he felt like an ant under a microscope. He’d practiced what he was going to say all yesterday and even this morning before the meeting, but nothing could have prepared him for the anger that flashed in his boss’s penetrating dark gaze.
Wethers was a man both respected and, at times, feared. He was the kind of man who could make anyone feel small with just a glance. Not due to arrogance, although as a child of privilege it was almost expected, or because he was a bully—he was a fair man and loyal to his staff. Harvey liked him. He’d worked for his father and was honored to work with the son. But the younger Wethers was a man you didn’t want to disappoint, and one you certainly didn’t want to make angry. Harvey lightened his tone, attempting not to make the news sound as bad as it really was. “Your sister needs your help.”
Aaron fell silent, then slowly blinked with the ease of a lazy lion. “What the hell do I know about hosting a fashion show?” he finally asked.
“You don’t have to know anything. That’s not what she needs you for.”
“What, then?”
“She thinks someone is trying to sabotage the show. A box of props went missing.”
“And we had a new shipment sent. I know. I had a friend of mine take care of replacing the items. I’d hardly call that sabotage.”
Harvey wiped his neck, then glanced outside and saw Wethers’s son, Brandon, looking through the bushes. “But your sister is nervous because other things have gone wrong.”
“My sister tends to dramatize issues.” Wethers kept his gaze focused on the magnificent view of the ocean from his office window.
“Right now she’s in the process of leaving the island with three of her models who’ve developed rashes all over their bodies.”
“An allergic reaction?”
“She thinks someone tampered with their makeup. She’s taking several samples with her to get tested.”
“She could have had someone else do that.”
“Your mother said—”
Wethers lifted his brows. “You’re actually going to bring my mother into this, too?”
Harvey silently swore, knowing he’d made a wrong move. Hitting Wethers with both his mother and sister was not a wise strategy. “She agrees with your sister. They both think your involvement is essential.”
Aaron rubbed his chin. “And you’re just telling me this now? My sister couldn’t tell me this yesterday?”
“The makeup tampering—”
Aaron held up his hand. “Alleged tampering.”
“—really concerns her. She wouldn’t have bothered you otherwise,” Harvey finished, then glanced outside again, unable to hold Wethers’s steady gaze, and saw Brandon talking to one of the groundskeepers, who listened to something he said, then shook his head. What was the boy looking for?
“H.C.?”
Harvey turned sharply to him. “Yes?”
“What are you looking at?”
“Your son.”
Wethers’s tone sharpened. “What about my son?”
Harvey shook his head, sorry he’d mentioned it. Wethers had enough to think about, and Harvey didn’t want to worry him needlessly. It was probably nothing. Brandon was a good kid and didn’t usually get into trouble. “Nothing. Sorry, I—I just saw him run past.” He folded his damp handkerchief and pressed it to his forehead again.
Wethers narrowed his eyes. “What’s got you so nervous?”
Harvey shrugged. “I’m not nervous.” He adjusted his position in the large overstuffed chair.
Wethers narrowed his eyes a fraction more. “You believe her, don’t you?”
“These incidents don’t seem like accidents, especially the last one.”
Aaron shrugged. “Two mishaps aren’t—”
“Three.”
“Excuse me?”
“Actually, there have been three mishaps. These two were just the latest. The first one involved the digital file for the event. It somehow got corrupted, but fortunately there was a backup.”
“Hmm.”
“She really sounded upset on the phone about what’s happening.”
Aaron groaned. “I hate this. You know my plan was to stay as far away as possible over these next several days while our resort is overrun with over-indulged, self-interested parasites.”
Harvey held out his hands. “I know you had a bad experience with models—”
“Bad? Would you call the sinking of the Titanic merely bad? The stock market crash of 1929 a mere miscalculation?”
Harvey sighed. “I’m sorry. I know how bad...I mean awful—” he quickly corrected “—it was for you. But that was more than nine years ago. This isn’t about vanity. I’ve seen some of what they’re putting together and it’s really beautiful, and the people I’ve met have been very nice. We’re dealing with professionals, and I’ll help as much as I can, but I think your sister’s concern shouldn’t be taken lightly.”
Aaron slowly stood to his feet. “You’re a good man, H.C.” Aaron walked around the desk, then leaned against it with his arms folded. “I love my sister, but she has a habit of causing trouble, and my mother indulges her. But maybe there is something to this. When is my mother coming?”
Harvey nervously cleared his throat, wishing Wethers would return to his seat. He hated having to look up at him. “Your—your mother?”
“Yes, my mother. This is right up her alley. If she’s as concerned as my sister, she’ll love to be here and make sure everything is spectacular. She’s been a fashion hound since I was a kid. She’ll use this opportunity to indulge her personal hobby. I don’t care if she wants to come and boss me around a bit while I look into what’s going on.”
Harvey unfolded his damp handkerchief and wiped his forehead, his cheeks and his neck, then crumpled it in his fist. This was the news he didn’t want to deliver. “That’s the problem.”
Aaron stilled. “What is?”
“Your mother needs you to be in charge.”
“Me? Why?”
“She broke her ankle while vacationing in Switzerland and won’t be able to be here, either.”
Wethers looked out the window at the swaying palm trees and said in a low voice, “How convenient.”
“It doesn’t sound very convenient to me.”
Wethers shifted his gaze back to Harvey. “You missed the ring of sarcasm. I’ll try to be clearer next time.” He tapped a finger against his lips and said in a quiet voice, “I wonder what those two are up to?”
“I really think your sister’s frightened.”
“Then why didn’t she tell me directly?”
“She didn’t think you’d believe her. And this event is very important to her. This new designer is making waves around the globe. Red Beacon Villa Resorts will make a name for itself hosting the Cromwell Collection.”
“I don’t care what his name is—”
“Her. Her name is Rebecca Cromwell,” Harvey continued, ignoring Aaron’s obvious boredom with the topic.
Aaron stared at him for a long moment, making it clear he didn’t care.
Harvey swallowed. He hated when Wethers pinned him with that penetrating look. “I just thought you should know.”
“Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“What you really think. Should I be concerned?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Harvey said, relieved that at least that was the truth. “There are a lot of people involved in this event—volunteers, caterers, photographers, the stage crew, the stylists. Mistakes are bound to happen.”
“You’re giving me excuses, not an opinion. What do you really think?”
“I think that if what Candace believes is true, we have a serious problem because things seem to be escalating. The corrupted file and lost props were an annoyance, but tampering with the model’s makeup makes things more dangerous. Only the top three models were affected, and they were to be the key draw for the event, since one of them is a local girl. If anything else goes wrong, it’s possible we’ll have to cancel.”
“I’m not going to let that happen. We may have lost three days, but we have eleven days left.”
“Yes, sir,” Harvey said, feeling his heart cheer. He knew Wethers would do whatever it took to save the show.
“I want to meet with security in an hour.”
“Yes.” Harvey nodded, then left the room, wiping his forehead again when his phone rang. “Hello?”
“What does he think?” Candace Wethers said.
Harvey lowered his voice. “You should have told him yourself.”
“You know I couldn’t. Was he angry?”
“Yes, at first, then he said he’ll look into it.”
“Did you tell him about Rebecca?”
“Only briefly. I thought it best to focus on the show. I don’t think he’ll believe she’s the one being targeted. Besides, there’s no proof.”
“I know, but I just have a bad feeling about this. I think whoever is trying to sabotage the show is trying to hurt her.”
“You think her life’s in danger?”
Candace sighed. “I really don’t know. It doesn’t make sense, but I have a horrible feeling that Rebecca could get hurt in more ways than one.”
“Do you think perhaps we should reschedule or cancel the show?”
“No,” she said quickly. “Don’t even think that. I know that Aaron can do this.”
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Candace laughed in a way that made Harvey nervous. “I always know what I’m doing.”
* * *
Aaron studied the lizard sunning on his windowsill. “If it were just Candace and my mother I wouldn’t care much, but it’s not like H.C. to worry,” he said, talking to the creature. “I can’t have that, but Candace knew I wanted to stay out of this fashion thing.” Was she faking this crazy story about sabotage? No, it would be too easy to verify. And she wouldn’t leave a key event, like a high-profile fashion show, just to annoy him. Although he wouldn’t put much past her. She liked to get her way and thought his life was dull. Was this her way of adding some spice?
The lizard looked at him briefly, then darted away. Aaron rested his hands on the window frame and looked out at the ocean. Was it wrong to want a quiet, simple life? His sister always wanted more. More friends, more excitement, more fun. That’s why she trotted across the globe while he stayed on St. James, raising his son. She was the creative one in the family. She was the one who loved fashion and art. She was beautiful, reckless, changeable and irresistible. He’d idolized her so much as a child that, as a grown man, he’d married a woman similar to her, and that had been a disaster.
His marriage to Ina Margarita Sheldon had shown him just how much he and his sister were dissimilar. He was practical and rational and would never change, although his sister continued to try to encourage him to do so. He remembered their conversation last month as they sat on the veranda of the main house, where he and his son lived. His mother and sister each had their own separate small three-bedroom chalet, located several hundred feet away from his residence, but Candace always liked to stop by to chat, scold or tease him, depending on her mood.
“You can do better,” she said, nibbling on a fresh slice of melon. A large pink pinwheel hat shaded her face.
“What are you talking about?” Aaron asked as he watched his sister make her way through the plate full of fruit.
“Mary, the new woman you’re seeing.”
Aaron shook his head and speared a mango cube. “Her name is Martha Banyan.”
“And she’s a librarian.”
“She’s a teacher.” He pointed his fork at her. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I’m glad you did. I would have found out anyway. You know news travels fast on this island. I just know you can do better.”
Aaron set his fork down, no longer interested in eating. “I thought you’d be impressed.”
“Impressed by what? Plain, boring, dull—”
“She’s pretty and sweet.”
“I wasn’t talking about how she looks. I was talking about her clothes.”
“Not all women are interested in fashion like you, or can afford to change their wardrobe every season.”
Candace made a face. “There’s no need to exaggerate.”
Aaron grinned. “I thought I was being conservative.”
Candace rolled her eyes and swung her foot. “She’s just not the right one for you.”
Aaron sat back and folded his arms, trying to keep his tone neutral, although his sister’s criticism bothered him. “I thought you’d at least be happy for me. You’re the one who’s been pressuring me to start dating again.”
“Settling for the first woman who said yes was not what I meant.”
Aaron frowned. “I’m not settling.”
“She’s everything Ina isn’t.”
“Exactly.” He speared a large slice of pineapple with his fork.
“You shouldn’t sound so proud of it.” Candace waved her fork at him before she stabbed another melon slice. “You’re going to get bored with her. You’re a lot wilder than you think, little brother. Remember, you’ve got the blood of a pirate running through you.”
“I’m nothing like our ancestor,” Aaron said, picking up his fork again, feeling suddenly restless. He hated the comparison. It made him seem more mysterious than he actually was. “That’s what disappointed Ina the most. She thought she was marrying someone else.” Early in their marriage, he discovered she had bought into their ancestral history and thought she had married a “rogue,” and was very disappointed.
“She was stupid. She didn’t know what she had.”
“Martha is good with Brandon.”
“Of course she is,” Candace said, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. “She’s a librarian, for goodness’ sake.”
“Teacher,” Aaron corrected.
“See?” Candace waved her hand again, as if he’d just proven her point. “She’s paid to be good with children.”
“And she’s smart and—”
Candace shook her head again. “And she’s still wrong for you.”
“She loves this island as much as I do, she likes my son and she likes me.”
Candace set her fork down. “Are you thinking of marrying her?”
“It’s too soon for that, but—”
“But you’re thinking about it?” She removed her sunglasses and stared directly at him.
“I’m ready to marry again,” he said, avoiding her gaze.
Candace sighed and folded her arms. “Promise me one thing.”
He looked at her. “What?”
“Don’t get too serious about her until after the fashion show.”
A month later, Candace’s words still echoed in his head. Aaron turned from the window, trying to let the memory of that talk fade, but it wouldn’t leave him. He still found the request odd. He was a grown man. He didn’t need his older sister’s blessing on anything. But he still remembered the look on her face when she asked him to wait until after the show. He recalled how sly she looked. But if she thought surrounding him with an endless supply of beautiful women would change his mind, she’d be disappointed. But would she go this far to get him involved? He sighed when he heard a quiet knock on the door.
“Come in,” he said, returning to his desk.
His eight-year-old son, Brandon, entered and he felt some of his annoyance subside. His son was the only thing he didn’t regret about his marriage. “What is it?” he asked with a smile.
Brandon bit his lip. “Promise you won’t get mad.”
“I can’t promise you that, but tell me anyway.”
“I’ve looked everywhere.”
Aaron’s smile fell. “Looked for what?”
“Can you please promise not to get mad?” Brandon said, nervously playing with his fingers and turning his feet inward.
He stood. “Brandon.”
“At least don’t shout,” he said, straightening his shoulders and trying to look brave.
Aaron folded his arms. “What happened?”
Brandon hung his head and spoke to the floor. “Trident is missing.”
Chapter 2 (#ulink_5d713563-2dd7-5ac6-b4a5-10b1caead029)
As a child, Rebecca Cromwell feared the monster under the bed. At twenty-nine, she finally saw it. It was the last straw. Her nerves were already frayed due to three days where everything had gone wrong. Since landing on St. James, she’d faced one mishap after another and feared that the latest incident would severely hamper the success of her upcoming fashion show.
She’d hoped for some time to decompress, since over the past three days she’d hardly slept or eaten. After scrambling to find replacements for the three models she’d lost, she’d decided to take a long, hot shower and enjoy one of the luxurious amenities in her spacious suite. It was one of thirty private villas that lined the secluded cove where Red Beacon Villa Resorts was located. She could see the sun’s rays dancing along the crystal clear waters from one of her many palatial windows.
Humming to herself, she’d left her bathroom and crossed the cool bare marble floors, and she’d planned on a quick nap when she saw a green head with dark eyes peek out from the shadowy depths under her bed. She screamed and jumped on the mattress. That’s when she thought that being on top of the monster was worse than seeing the monster, so she jumped off the bed and up on a chair.
“Rebecca!” Her assistant, Kelli Davis, pounded on her front door. “Are you okay?”
“It’s open.”
Kelli rushed into the room with her hair uncombed, half-dressed, her shirt still hanging off her shoulder and jeans unzipped. She stared up at her. “What’s wrong?”
Rebecca pointed with a shaky finger. “There’s something under my bed.”
Kelli grinned. “Giant dust bunnies?”
“No, something big and green. Don’t look!” she said when Kelli bent down to look under the bed.
“Then how am I supposed to see what it is?”
“I already told you what it is.”
Kelli ignored her and lifted the sheet, then screamed, stumbling back. “Oh, my God, you’re right. It’s huge. We have to kill it.” She madly looked around for something to grab, just in case the thing came out from under the bed and tried to attack her, but couldn’t find anything.
“I’m not going to kill it.”
“Then what are you going to do?” Kelli finished zipping up her pants and adjusted her top.
“Get someone to get rid of it.” Rebecca jumped down from the chair and ran out the front door, and smack into a wall. Or what she’d at first thought was a wall before something grabbed her and kept her from falling backward. She gingerly touched her face, her nose still stinging from the impact, then glanced up and nearly screamed again.
It was him. Mr. Beautiful. Mr. Wonderful. The man who’d once been the object of her dreams. Her hero—Aaron Wethers. The man who’d broken her heart ten years ago.
Just like everything else in his life, time seemed to have given him an advantage, broadening his shoulders, refining his impressive physique. The wind and the sun seemed to have ripened the beauty of his brown skin, making his handsome features almost majestic. And her traitorous heart responded to his compelling, golden-brown gaze.
She knew she’d see him again, but she hadn’t planned on a moment like this. She had planned on returning to St. James as a success, so that he could see how much she’d changed. She’d planned to be cool and suave, and hoped to seduce him by showing off her gorgeous figure, casting a glance in his direction then ignoring him. But now her show was in trouble and she’d crashed into him after racing out of her villa with no makeup on, her hair in total disarray and wearing just her bathrobe.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Goodness, even his voice was better than she remembered. Deep and intoxicating as rum punch, his island lilt made her want to step closer and listen more. “I’m fine,” Rebecca said in a voice that was too high. She gathered her robe close around her and tightened the sash, wishing she’d at least put on her bra and panties, but she hadn’t, and at that moment she felt vulnerable and bare. “Perfectly fine,” she said with a wave of her hand. She tried to brush her hair into place, but it wouldn’t cooperate.
“Fine?” Kelli squealed behind her. “There’s a giant—”
“It’s nothing,” Rebecca said with a light laugh, seeing that all the commotion was attracting an audience. It was then that she saw a miniature version of Aaron looking anxious beside him. The little boy looked up at Aaron, then her, then his gaze dropped to the ground. Rebecca immediately guessed the situation. Her monster was likely his pet. And it had escaped. Rebecca knew how they responded could really hurt Aaron’s image if other guests knew what she and Kelli had found.
Rebecca bent down to the little boy’s level and said in a low voice, “You look worried, but you don’t have to be. It’s okay.”
He lifted his gaze to hers, his big brown eyes hopeful. “You found Trident?”
“I think so,” Rebecca whispered, aware that people were watching them closely. “But you’ll have to check.”
Aaron shook his head. “I’m really so—”
Rebecca straightened and screamed again, this time like a woman arriving at an airport and seeing a long-lost friend. “It’s so good to see you again,” she said, hugging the little boy, even though he looked at her, startled. “You’ve grown so tall!” She turned to Aaron and screamed like a fashionista seeing an outfit she adored, then hugged him, too. “It’s been ages, darling. Kiss, kiss.” She kissed his cheeks, then waved them inside. “Come in, come in.” She glanced at an older couple who watched them with a frown. She winked at them, then turned. Once they were all inside, she closed the door and pointed to the bed. “Trident is under there.”
The little boy looked up at her, curious. “Why did you scream and hug us like that?”
“Because I didn’t want people asking questions.”
He giggled. “You acted really silly. Like one of Aunt Candace’s friends.”
Aaron nudged him. “You shouldn’t be laughing. What should you be saying?”
“Oh, yes. I’m sorry, miss.”
Rebecca nodded. “You’re forgiven.”
“Now go get Trident,” Aaron said.
The little boy rushed forward and lifted the sheets. “Trident, you’re in big trouble.”
“I’m very sorry about this,” Aaron said.
“What is it?” Rebecca asked, once the boy had coaxed the creature from under the bed.
“A giant iguana. He must have snuck in when they were cleaning your villa. The maids keep the door open to air the room,” Aaron said with a note of apology.
“I understand how he got in, but how are you going to get him out of here without anyone noticing? I assume you don’t want anyone to know that Trident escaped.”
Aaron ran a tired hand down his face, then looked around as if considering his options. “You’re right.” He looked at the little boy. “Didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on him?”
“I’m really sorry, Dad.”
Even though she’d guessed that the little boy was his, hearing him call Aaron Dad validated her assumption. Strangely, fatherhood looked good on him. Rebecca mentally shook her head. She didn’t care. She’d come to St. James to show him what a success she had become and what he’d lost. She would remain calm, collected and distant. “I have an idea, but you have to wait. First, I have to change.” Rebecca excused herself, grabbed some clothes from her closet, then disappeared into the bathroom.
“Get a hold of yourself,” Rebecca mumbled to herself as she quickly changed. “It doesn’t matter that he’s still gorgeous or that he has a cute little boy. He doesn’t even remember you. The jerk.” She stared at her reflection. “You are going to help him this one time, and then you’re going to ignore him. You didn’t come here to fall for him all over again. Your career and this fashion show are all that matter.” She pointed at her image. “Are we clear?” She quickly massaged ointment in her hair and put on some lip gloss, then left the bathroom, ready to deal with the issue at hand.
She told Aaron her idea. At first he was skeptical, but then he agreed. He called the maid service and requested they bring a large laundry trolley to the villa. When it arrived, Aaron set Trident inside, then Rebecca and the maid covered the iguana with several sheets and towels. “Now nobody will ever know I had a surprise visitor,” Rebecca said, pleased.
Aaron looked at the maid. “You know what to do. Make it quick. He can’t be under there too long.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The little boy took Rebecca’s hand. “Come on.”
Aaron grabbed his son’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”
Brandon looked up at his father, affronted. “I’m going to show her where Trident lives.”
“You have to ask permission first.”
“Oh, right,” he said, looking contrite. “Dad, can I take her to show—”
“No, you have to ask her permission.”
The little boy turned to Rebecca. “Can I show you where Trident lives?”
“I’m sorry,” Rebecca said. “But I have a lot to do today. Perhaps another time.”
The little boy looked disappointed but nodded. “Okay. I’ll come back later.”
“No,” Aaron said. “You’ll call and make sure she’s free.”
“But, Dad—”
“We’ll talk about this later. Go.”
The little boy sighed, started to leave, then turned. “I didn’t tell you my name. I’m Brandon Wethers,” he said, holding out his hand.
“I’m Rebecca Cromwell.”
“Do you have any kids?”
“No.”
“Are you married?”
Aaron nudged him toward the door. “That’s enough.”
“My dad’s not married.”
Aaron shoved him a little harder. “Get out of here.”
“I’m just trying to help. Aunt Candace says women always want to know that about you.”
Aaron held up his hand. “One more word, and I will get angry.”
Brandon nodded, then waved. “Bye, Miss Rebecca.”
Rebecca grinned. “Bye.”
Brandon looked at her for a long moment, then tugged on his father’s shirt. Aaron bent down, and the boy whispered something in his ear.
“No,” Aaron said.
Brandon gripped his hands together. “Please.”
“Go home.”
Brandon made a face, then left.
“Your son is a character,” Kelli said, walking up to Aaron. “But he had the right idea. You’ve already met Rebecca, but let me introduce myself. I’m Kelli Davis.” She held out her hand like a canary offering herself to a cat. The red highlights in her black hair caught the light, and she lowered and raised her eyes in a way that made her interest clear. She had taken the time, during all the commotion, to make sure she looked presentable.
He shook her hand. “Aaron Wethers.”
She grinned. “It’s nice to know we have something in common.”
“And what’s that?”
She winked. “I’m not married, either.”
Aaron nodded, making no indication what he thought of her statement, and turned to Rebecca. “There’s no excuse for what just happened. Let me offer you a complimentary dinner and spa treatment at the VIP lounge.”
“That’s really not necessary,” Rebecca said, embarrassed by her assistant’s flirtation.
“Yes, it is. I was just made aware of the other troubles you’ve had since you arrived, and this incident with my son’s pet iguana is unacceptable. I’m looking into what’s going on.” He pulled out his wallet and gave her a card. “Just give them this.”
“You really don’t—”
His cell phone rang, interrupting her. “I have to take this. Excuse me,” he said, then walked outside.
Rebecca nodded and watched him leave.
Kelli snatched the card from her and studied it. “You lucky girl. A free dinner and spa.”
“You can have it.”
Kelli stared at her, surprised. “Why?”
He didn’t remember her. She’d hoped her name would have meant something, but saying it hadn’t triggered a memory. Not even a little. Of course, it had been ten years, but when they had met, it had been such a monumental moment in her life. She had hoped she’d made some impact on him. What was the point of trying to ignore him or show him how successful she’d become when he didn’t even know who she was? “I’ll be too busy to use it,” Rebecca said.
Kelli eagerly tucked the card away, as if she were afraid Rebecca would change her mind. “Well, if you’re sure.”
“I’m positive,” Rebecca said, then reached out and pinched her.
“Ow!” Kelli said, rubbing her arm. “What did you do that for?”
“Because you know I hate when you flirt in front of me. I don’t care what you do on your own time, but when you’re with me I expect you to be a professional.”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I mean, don’t you think—”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. His family owns this resort and—”
Kelli started to fan herself. “Oh, yes, he’s Candace’s brother. Just my type.”
Yes, Candace’s brother. Candace had tried to bring up the subject of her brother with Rebecca numerous times, since the first day they’d arrived, but she’d always found a way to avoid the topic, preferring to pretend that she’d decided to host her collection at their resort because it was convenient rather than because of their shared past. And with the recent mishaps, it hadn’t been hard for her to focus on something other than him. Now Candace was gone, and Aaron had taken her place. Rebecca couldn’t afford to have anything else go wrong. Worst of all, she didn’t want him to see her as the helpless damsel she’d been all those years ago.
“Find someone else.”
Kelli raised a brow. “Are you interested?”
“No. I just don’t want you distracted. We’re here on business.”
“I’ll be discreet, then.”
“Good.”
Kelli folded her arms, sending Rebecca a significant look. “Are you sure you’re not interested?”
“I don’t have time to be interested in anyone.”
“It’s been two years since your breakup. Don’t you think—”
“I think you have too much time on your hands. I want to take a nap before I meet with the stage director.”
Kelli sighed and left. But Rebecca didn’t take a nap. She couldn’t sleep. Kelli was on the prowl, and Rebecca couldn’t blame her. Aaron was a worthy target. She’d been just as eager to get his attention ten years ago, but for a different reason...
Ten years ago
It was really hard to run in three-inch high heels. Even harder to run on a boat, away from a drunken college sophomore she had only just met that evening, who wanted to bed as many coeds as he could on spring break. “Come on, don’t be like that,” he said. Although his words were slurred, his pace was incredibly steady.
“I said leave me alone!” Rebecca shouted over her shoulder. She could see the lights of the island in the distance. The sun had set an hour ago, but there was still a purple haze that colored the sky. She knew she couldn’t make a swim for it. She wished she hadn’t decided to go on the two-level rental party boat and had stayed in her room with her roommate, Marie, instead.
“I just think we’ll have a good time together,” she had told Marie.
She’d heard the rumors and knew what some of the boys expected. Her two other friends were already giving his buddies “good times” somewhere on the boat, but this wasn’t the kind of holiday she’d been hoping for. She’d wanted to go sailing, laze on the beach, shop in one of the crowded outdoor markets. Instead, she’d found herself getting crushed at a keg party, and now running from a drunken college guy who had arms like an octopus. One of those arms reached her and pulled her to him.
“You know, your little act is getting old.”
Rebecca tried to shove him away. He smelled of stale aftershave and beer. “It’s not an act. I’m not interested.”
He looked her over. “It’s not like you should be picky. There are prettier girls out here.”
“Then find one of them.” She tried hard to push him off her, but he held her even closer.
“Why? I’ve got you right here.” He leaned in to kiss her.
She bit his lip.
He swore and shoved her back, calling her a foul name. “You think that was funny?” he said, touching his lip and seeing blood on his fingers.
“I warned you.” But the look in his eyes let her know that her warning had only enraged him. She started running again, getting enough distance to turn a corner out of sight, but she knew there was no cabin room for her to hide in. So she grabbed the rail and swung herself over the side of the boat, hoping that he would pass her without looking down. She heard his footsteps. Heard him swear and then disappear below deck. She held on a little longer, but soon felt her grip slipping. She started to lift herself back up, glad for the cardio class she’d started to take on campus. She had nearly pulled herself all the way up when the chaser popped up and said, “Gotcha!”
His sudden presence startled her. She lost her grip and started to fall backward. He reached out to grab her, but his attempt was clumsy and had too much force. He managed to grip her sleeve and pulled her forward instead of up, and she hit her head before the soft material of her dress ripped in his fingers and she fell into the water, unconscious.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_54131bda-b98b-5d20-8263-4f2bd5f6597e)
Rebecca woke up to the sound of voices. When she opened her eyes, she found she was on a rescue craft, and a young man, dripping wet, leaned over her. “You’re going to be okay. No, don’t sit up,” he said gently, pulling her jacket closer together. Then she remembered she hadn’t been wearing a jacket—especially not a man’s dinner jacket. She looked up at him and saw his white shirt plastered to his muscled chest. She couldn’t really place him. He looked much older than the college crowd. “What happened?”
“I saw you go overboard,” he said in a rich island lilt.
“And you saved me?” she said with awe. “I could have been attacked by a shark, or stung by jellyfish or drowned.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up in a quick grin. “I did what anyone would have done. But you have to be more careful. How much have you had to drink?”
“Nothing.”
“Then what were you doing hanging over the side of the boat?”
“I was trying to get away—” She stiffened and sat up too fast. She held her head as the world started to spin.
He reached out to steady her. “I told you to keep still.”
“But where is he? I made him so angry.”
The man gently pushed her back down. “Relax. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”
“He wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“He will now,” he said in a grim tone. “And the next time someone bothers you, you just come to me...” He lifted his brow in a question.
“Becca,” she said.
He nodded. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re safe now.”
“Who are you?”
“Aaron.”
She wanted to ask him more questions, but the boat landed on the island before she could. The EMTs rushed to meet them. Her rescuer spoke to one of the police officers on the scene while one of the EMTs assessed her, taking her vital signs and applying some ointment to the bruise on her forehead. He tried to encourage her to go to the hospital, but she declined. “I just want to go home and go to sleep.”
“You’ve suffered a mild concussion, and going home and sleeping wouldn’t be a good idea,” he said. “Do you have someone who can be with you through the night?”
“No, but—”
“Then it’s best that you come with us.” The EMTs began to lead her to the waiting ambulance.
“Please, please,” she said, starting to panic. “I really don’t want to.”
“What’s going on here?” Aaron asked, joining them.
The EMT told him the situation. Aaron looked at her. “And you really don’t want to go to the hospital? They’ll treat you well.”
“No,” she said. “The last time I saw my mother was in a hospital, and it’s a painful place for me.”
“Okay. I’ll look after her,” he said when the EMT started to protest. He waved her forward. “Come on,” he said, then started walking.
“I’ll really be okay by myself,” Rebecca said. “Besides, I have a roommate. She can watch me.” Rebecca wasn’t sure if Marie would still be in their hotel room, or if she would be out partying in town. But she wasn’t going to share that bit of knowledge with him.
He extended his hand and took hers in his. “I’m not going to take that risk. And you don’t have to worry—you won’t be alone with me. People know me on this island.”
That certainly wasn’t a worry for her. She could tell by the way the EMTs reacted to him that he was a man people respected. She wondered how long he’d lived on the island and why he’d been on the rental boat. Or was he a foreign vacationer like her? He was the complete opposite of the man who’d been chasing her. But no, man was the wrong word. The college drunk had been a boy. Aaron definitely was a man. A gentleman, and that was rare nowadays. He treated her with kindness and made her feel safe. She couldn’t stop looking at him. He was like a designer coat marked down to half price—completely irresistible.
“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company,” he said as he walked over to a motorcycle that leaned up against a stone fence and lifted the one helmet he had. “Maybe I should call a taxi for you.”
“No, I’ll be okay.”
He handed her the helmet and helped her close the latch before sitting on the bike. When she didn’t move, he looked at her, concerned. “What’s the matter?”
“I’ve never ridden one of these before.”
Aaron’s face split into a wide grin. “I’m not expecting you to drive it.” He patted the bike with affection. “She hugs the road and purrs like a kitten. I’ve never had a problem with her. You’ll be safe with me.” He raised a brow. “You sure you don’t want me to call a taxi?”
Rebecca closed her hands into fists. She had no reason to be nervous, but suddenly she was. Not because of the bike, but because of the man. On the boat and talking to the EMT, he’d look civilized, but on the bike, with his rakish grin, he had a devilish air. But he’d saved her life, and people knew him. Maybe her imagination was just running wild because of the darkening sky and the warm Caribbean breeze. She took a deep breath, then got on and sat behind him.
“You have to hold on,” he said.
“What?”
He grabbed her arms and wrapped them around his waist. “I want you to hold on tight. I can’t have you falling off the bike now, can I? Ready?”
She could feel the heat of his skin through his wet shirt, and the muscles of his back pressed to her chest. “Yes.”
He revved up the machine, then drove through some of the island’s back roads. She’d never seen some of those places before. Too soon he stopped the motorcycle and shut off the engine.
“We’re here already?” she said, disappointed.
Aaron laughed. “I thought you’d be glad.”
“I was just starting to have fun.” She took off the helmet.
“Maybe I’ll treat you to a longer ride next time,” he said, taking the helmet from her and setting it aside.
Rebecca knew he was saying that just to be nice, but she truly hoped he would. She was about to say so when she looked up and finally saw where they were. A large mansion loomed before her—a mansion with a dark history. “I thought you were taking me back to the hotel.” She raced up to Aaron and grabbed his arm. “Wait, where are you going?”
“I’m going inside.”
“You can’t go inside,” she said in a low hiss.
He looked down at her, confused. “Why not?”
“I read about this place,” she said, casting an uneasy glance at the large structure. “No one on the island comes to this place. It’s owned by this wealthy family who are said to be descendants of the famous pirate Pierre LaCroix.”
Rebecca went on to tell the story she had heard about how in the early 1600s, a free black man from France, Pierre LaCroix, traveled to St. James. He immediately fell in love with both the people and the land. That was before Spain discovered and decided to claim the island as part of its sovereignty. Pierre LaCroix fought along with the people, but when faced with defeat, he escaped and became a pirate instead. He was never captured by the Spanish, who were eventually overrun by the British. “This house belongs to his descendants, who got rich from the gold and jewelry Pierre plundered from Spanish and British ships he and his fellow pirates attacked.”
He rested his hands on his hips, amused. “Really?”
“It’s even been said that the ghost of LaCroix chooses the bride for the eldest male of the family, and if he doesn’t marry the woman selected, he falls to ruin.”
Aaron’s expression changed, and his voice deepened. “If you’re really frightened, it’s not too late to go to the hospital.”
“Why would I do that? I’m not frightened of you, just of this place.”
Aaron blinked and didn’t move. It took her a moment to realize that the pose reminded her of something. Or rather, someone. In her search to find information about the island, she’d seen a picture of the pirate Pierre LaCroix, and Aaron now looked eerily like him. Like a man who could laugh at a hundred-foot ocean wave, handle a knife with ease and seduce a woman with just a look. Her heart dropped to her feet. “Oh, no. You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“I thought you were here on holiday like me,” she said, quickly trying to cover her mistake. But she couldn’t tell whether she’d made him annoyed or angry. His face held a blank expression, but his golden-brown gaze hadn’t lost its intensity. “What were you doing on the boat?” she asked.
“One of the chaperones fell ill and I stepped in.”
“I see. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. I’m used to it.” He jerked his thumb to the door. “Are you ready to go in now, or do you want to tell me some more ghost stories?”
Rebecca covered her face, embarrassed. “I’ve had a traumatic experience. I cannot be accountable for anything I say.”
He laughed and took her hand. “Come on.”
A maid greeted them the moment they entered. “Please take her to the TV room,” Aaron said. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Rebecca followed the woman, in awe of her surroundings, amazed that it wasn’t as foreboding as she’d imagined and feeling even more embarrassed that he felt he had to look after her. She didn’t want to be a bother.
“You brought her here?” she heard a woman say.
“Keep your voice down,” Aaron said. “She could hear you.”
“But why didn’t you just take her back to her room?”
“Because I didn’t think it would be appropriate for me to spend the night in one of the guests’ bedrooms.”
“You could have just asked one of the staff to stay with her. You didn’t have to look after her yourself. You should have convinced her to go to the hospital.”
“She doesn’t like hospitals, and she’s one of our guests. Besides, it shouldn’t have happened.”
“Oh, Aaron,” a younger female said. “You’re such an old man. Things like this happen all the time.”
“All our guests should be safe. I knew those party boats would be a problem.”
“What are you so worked up about? They’re not even part of our business. If she wants to sue, she can sue them—what happened has nothing to do with us. You always take on more responsibility than necessary. Send her home.”
“Not until I’m sure she’s okay. I just wanted you to know why she’s here, not for you to try to change my mind.”
“Well, you certainly need to change your clothes,” the older woman said. “You’re dripping water everywhere.”
He snapped his fingers. “Oh, right, she needs clothes. Candace, could you give her something?”
“Aaron,” the older woman said, irritated. “Just have the staff go to her room and get some of her things.”
“Mum, it’d take too long. She could catch a chill and get sick.”
“What chill? It’s perfectly warm, and I doubt she’s that delicate,” the younger woman added. “You’re such a protector.”
“I don’t have time for this. I have to go change and then keep an eye on her. Will you help me or not?”
“Okay, just this once.”
Rebecca pretended to watch TV when she heard his footsteps. He stopped and looked in on her. “Why aren’t you sitting down?”
“I didn’t want to get the sofa wet.”
“Right, I’m sorry,” he said, looking contrite. “I forgot about that. My sister will have something for you to wear in a minute. I’m just going to get changed, and I’ll be right back.”
“You really don’t—” she started, but he’d left before she could finish.
Rebecca looked around the elegant room, feeling even more awkward than before. If his family didn’t want her there, maybe she should have gone to the hospital. She felt fine. She wasn’t nauseous and was steady on her feet, and she didn’t like feeling like a stray cat he’d found.
She put his jacket down, then poked her head out into the hallway. No one was around, and if she left, then the problem would be solved. She started to tiptoe to the doorway when she heard an amused female voice. “That’s not a good idea.”
She turned around and saw an attractive young woman, a little older than Aaron, grinning at her. “He’ll just come and find you.” She held out several clothing items. “Just get changed, and get used to being here.”
“But I’m really okay,” Rebecca said, reluctantly taking the clothes.
“My brother takes his responsibilities seriously,” the woman said, leading Rebecca to a bathroom. “He’s going to look after you until the morning, so you might as well get used to the idea. I’m Candace, by the way. If you haven’t figured it out by now, my family owns the hotel where you’re staying.”
“Rebecca,” she said, following the woman’s example. Rebecca walked into the bathroom, then turned to her. “This is all so embarrassing.”
“Embarrassing? You have no idea how many girls would love to be in your shoes.” She winked and then closed the door.
Resigned, Rebecca changed, then looked at her torn dress. She’d designed it herself, but the stitching hadn’t been strong enough. She’d have to take better care in the future. She didn’t want them to think she’d fallen overboard on purpose. Then her thoughts turned back to her rescuer. He was wonderful, and she could understand why he’d be a hot catch, but she didn’t want to give him or his family the wrong impression. But since she was going to have to stay, she decided she’d make the best of it.
In truth, she was curious to know more about him and wanted to spend as much time with him as she could. Once she put on the skirt and top Candace had handed her, she looked in the mirror and wasn’t too surprised by the image she saw. She looked terrible. While the skirt and top would look stunning on the other woman’s tall willowy frame, Rebecca looked awkward and dumpy because she was almost a foot shorter and a little wider.
But she was used to wearing secondhand clothes, and as a fashion major she knew that clothes could be made to fit the woman. She rolled up the skirt at the waist, so it fell shorter, just above her knees. Then she folded up the arms of the top and pulled and tied it in the back, then looked at her reflection, satisfied. She heard a quick knock on the door. “Can I come in?” Candace asked.
“Yes.”
Candace came in holding a bottle in one hand and a hair dryer in the other. She stopped and stared at her. “Wow, I’ve never seen those items worn like that before.”
Rebecca shrugged. “I had to make some adjustments, but don’t worry, none of the changes are permanent.”
Candace walked around her, impressed. “Very creative.” She set the hair dryer and bottle of moisturizer down. “I thought you might want this for your hair.”
“Thanks.” Once Candace left, Rebecca plugged in the blow dryer, then lathered her bare skin with some of the moisturizer. She had exchanged her heels for a pair of plush slippers once she had entered the house and felt more comfortable. Before leaving the bathroom, Rebecca checked her reflection. With the help of the blow dryer, her hair looked slightly tamed, and she had wiped off her smudged makeup. That would have to do, she thought with a shrug, then left. She found Aaron sitting in front of the TV dressed in khaki pants and a T-shirt. When he turned and looked at her, he stood up and smiled. “Now you look much better.”
Rebecca looked down at herself. “Liar.”
He rested his hand on his chest as if she’d wounded him. “Why would I lie?”
“Because you’re sweet.”
He winced. “Ouch, you really know how to hurt a man’s ego. You want the truth?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He handed her a phone. “Here.”
“What’s that for?”
“In case you want to call someone and let them know you’re okay.”
“Oh, right,” she said, taking the phone. “Thanks.” She dialed her friend Marie and told her what had happened.
“You really should go to the hospital,” Marie said after Rebecca had finished. “I heard something bad happened on that boat.”
“Shh, I’m all right,” Rebecca said, wishing that Marie didn’t have a habit of shouting over the phone.
“Who is this guy? What if he made up his story about chaperoning the boat and plans to take advantage of you?”
Rebecca glanced over at Aaron, who continued watching TV, hoping he couldn’t overhear her friend. “I’ve already met his sister, and his mother’s here, too,” she said in a low voice, hoping Marie would take a hint and do the same. “Nothing’s going to happen.”
“But what if they’re not really related to the owners, and they’re a group of cons who prey on tourists and—”
Rebecca inwardly groaned, regretting her choice to call. Maybe she should have told her a different story. Marie had a wilder imagination than she did. “I’m okay. The reason I called you was so that you wouldn’t worry. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Just remember that if he tries anything, go for the soft spots and—”
“Good night,” Rebecca said before disconnecting. She handed the phone back to Aaron, then sat down.
Aaron replaced the phone and sat beside her. “What soft spots should you go for?”
Rebecca felt her face burn. “You heard that?”
“Couldn’t help it. I think I could hear your friend over a hurricane warning.”
“She just worries sometimes.”
Aaron nodded, then pointed to the TV. “You can watch whatever you want.”
“I don’t watch much TV,” Rebecca said, glancing around the room. She pointed to a covered table near the wall where a framed item sat. She saw a miniature three-dimensional scene of people taking a picture in the cove. “What’s that?”
“Oh, just one of my hobbies.”
She walked over to it. “It’s beautiful. What is it called?”
“A diorama.”
“Do you have others?”
Aaron looked at her, skeptical. “You really want to see them? My job is to keep you awake, not put you to sleep.”
“I won’t fall asleep. I’m really curious.”
“Okay.” He lifted up the tablecloth and set three more dioramas on the table.
Rebecca bent down and studied their intricate details.
“I base some of them on stories like Treasure Island or Robinson Crusoe, but I mostly like showing scenes of nature,” Aaron said after a while, as if he was made uncomfortable by her silence.
She turned to him. “You really love this island, don’t you?”
“It’s my life.”
“You remind me of my grandmother.”
Aaron frowned and started to put the dioramas away, annoyed. “Because this is the hobby of an old woman?”
“No, because you create beautiful things. My grandmother is one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known. I’m a fashion design major because of her. She couldn’t afford much, but she always made me look and feel good. Even when other kids would make fun of a sweater she created, I didn’t care, because every time I put something on that she made, I knew I was loved. She’d take my sister and me to the park and just look at birds, and gain inspiration for a dress or blouse. She’d race home and gather different cloths and materials and create something amazing. She lives life with passion. Just like you.”
“No one has ever said that to me before. I’m not really—”
“But you are,” Rebecca interrupted. “Looking at what you’ve created makes me want to be an inch tall so that I can escape into this world. I can see your love of this island and the people here. You’re so talented. I wish I could create something this intricate.”
“They are really not that difficult to make. It just takes some patience. Want me to show you?”
“Yes.”
All through the night Aaron eagerly showed Rebecca his collection of art materials and selection of intricate hand tools he used, and walked her through the basic steps to making a diorama. Then they spent the rest of the time sharing their hopes and dreams.
He told her about his vision to expand his family’s hotel into an international holiday resort; she told him how she hoped to travel the world and become a famous designer one day. She made him laugh with her imitations of her various college roommates and professors, and her grandmother.
“I know your mother died in a hospital, but what about your father?” Aaron finally asked. “You only talk about your grandmother.”
“He’s gone, too. He died when I was three. But don’t feel sorry for me. My grandmother and sister love me enough for both my parents.”
Aaron pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. “How do you feel?”
At that moment she felt hot, but not from illness. She adjusted her position and moved out of his reach. “Good. I was sleepy before, but now I’m having so much fun, I’m not even thinking about what happened.”
He looked at the small scene she was completing, which consisted of a palm tree and what looked like a baby seal, sunning on a beach.
“It’s not very good,” she said. “But at least I’ve enjoyed making it.”
“You’re doing a great job, and it’s almost morning so I think you’ll be safe.”
“You want me to go now?”
“No, not yet,” he said with a smile. “I just didn’t want you to be worried about having to stay here too much longer.”
“Why not? I like it here. You’re fun.”
He laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“No one has ever said that to me, either. You really are a strange one.”
“How can that be strange? You are fun.”
He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “Thanks, I really needed to hear that. You’re sweet.” He stood. “Let me go get us something to eat.”
When Aaron returned carrying a large tray filled with bowls of fruit, hot cereal and toast, she could hardly eat. She couldn’t focus. He’d kissed her. Sure, it was on the forehead and like a kiss a big brother would give a little sister, but that didn’t matter. He’d kissed her.
He’d not only saved her life and listened to her stories, he made her feel special. No one had ever made her feel that way before.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_d6112dd0-30da-5a54-b088-9322865cbbbb)
Rebecca returned to her hotel room madly in love. Over the next three days, she saw him around the hotel, but except for a casual nod, she didn’t catch his attention, even though she tried. She took great pains to make sure her hair was styled and her makeup was done right, and dressed up in her most attractive outfits. When another recent attempt failed, Rebecca sat and watched him from a distance.
“Stop that,” Marie said as the two lounged in an outdoor café.
Rebecca looked at her friend, surprised. Marie had a face as exciting as wet cardboard and an attitude to match, but Rebecca liked her anyway. “What am I doing?”
“Sighing. Whoever he is, he’s not interested. Forget about him.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s completely out of your reach. Besides, he probably has his pick of women anyway. Why would he choose you?”
“I say you should go for it,” Candace said, coming up to sit at their table.
“Why?” Marie challenged, looking at the woman with suspicion.
Candace shrugged. “Why not?”
“Why don’t you go for him?” Marie asked.
Candace made a face. “Because he’s my brother, and that would just be gross.”
“Marie, this is Candace,” Rebecca said, making the introductions. “Candace, Marie.” After the two women shook hands, Rebecca said, “You really think I have a chance with Aaron?”
“Yes.” Candace looked over Rebecca’s dress. “Did you make that?”
“Yes.”
“I like your style. You’ve got a great eye for color.” She grinned. “You know I like you, and I want to help you.”
“Help me?”
“Yes. To get my brother. He needs someone like you.”
Rebecca leaned in closer with hope and longing. “Really?”
“Yes.” She lowered her voice. “He’s just getting over a really bad breakup and has been miserable. She was awful to him, but that night you were with him, you made him smile, and that’s not easy to do. Actually, we’re all worried about him.”
“Worried?”
“He really loved the other woman, and he may do something reckless. I think you’ll help him forget her. They’d been together two years, and she never once told him she loved him. He’s aching for a woman to tell him that.”
Rebecca felt her heart racing. She hated the thought of Aaron being sad or someone hurting him. She’d do whatever it took to make him smile again. She knew he was the one for her. “Tell me what I can do.”
* * *
“I don’t like this,” Marie said the next evening as she sat on her bed and watched Rebecca put on her lipstick.
“You’ve already said that ten times.”
Marie drew up her legs and rested her chin on her knees. “How do you know you can trust her?”
Rebecca put her lipstick away. “She’s been nice to me, and why wouldn’t you believe her?”
“Because she’s beautiful. Beautiful women don’t know what it’s like for the rest of us, and they can’t be trusted.”
“You sound jealous.”
“I’m not really. I’m just worried about you.”
Rebecca sat on the bed and patted Marie on the head the way she would an affectionate pet. “You’re always worried about me. But don’t be. He’s the one. I know he is.”
“I’ve never seen you like this.”
“I know,” Rebecca said, as surprised as her friend about how strong her feelings were. “That must mean something. I have this feeling that I have to be with him. When I first saw him, I felt this connection.”
“That’s only because you were filled with fear. It was probably just a regular chemical reaction.”
Rebecca shook her head. “No, it wasn’t that. It was something more. I can’t put how I feel into words.” She jumped to her feet, then slowly spun around with her arms held out to the sides. “How do I look?”
“Can I be honest?”
Rebecca stopped turning and let her arms fall. “Do you have to be?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca folded her arms and braced herself for her friend’s criticism. “Then go on.”
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Dara Girard
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Island heatTen years ago, Aaron Wethers saved Rebecca Cromwell from drowning on spring break. Enamored by her sexy savior, Rebecca fell short of getting the hard-edged executive interested in turning his role of practical hero into a romantic one. Now his Caribbean resort is hosting Rebecca′s fashion collection, and she has two weeks to show Aaron how much she′s grown up. Yet instead of enjoying revenge, she′s falling hard for the real but enigmatic man behind her long-ago infatuation.Aaron hasn′t forgotten the vibrant young student who propositioned him that night. He′s left breathless by the self-assured, stunning beauty she′s become. Under a blue island sky, they discover a deep, searing connection. But when a series of dangerous events threaten to sabotage her show, can he be the hero she needs now?