Читать книгу Body Heat - Adrianne Byrd, Pamela Yaye - Страница 9

Hylan loved Saint Lucia.

The minute the plane touched down, he could feel the stress of his job roll off of him in waves. How could it not? Everywhere he looked was a postcard-perfect snapshot—despite the gathering clouds. The Atlantic Ocean kissed the northern shores of the small island while the Caribbean Sea hugged the west coast. The twin coastal peaks soared two-thousand feet from the sea and were blanketed with an emerald-colored rain forest.

From the moment the private jet touched down in the Soufrière quarter, Hylan shut off his BlackBerry and mentally checked out for vacation. Stepping off the plane, he swore that the air smelled fresher, the sun was brighter and life just plain sweeter. “Why don’t I come here more often?” he said under his breath. The answer was truly a mystery. Whenever he was rushing around making deals, he repeatedly told himself that he didn’t have time for a vacation. And whenever he did make time, he always wondered why he didn’t do it more often.

Hylan’s maternal roots ran deep on the island. When he was a child, he remembered spending long summer days diving, snorkeling, sailing, windsurfing, hiking—you name it, he did it. His parents never had a lot of money, but everyone who knew Hylan Sr. and Sabelle Dawson knew that they were rich with love. Hylan had been their miracle child, having been conceived when his mother was in her late forties after nearly two decades of hoping and praying.

As a result, Hylan may have been a little spoiled.

A horn blared.

Hylan looked up to see a green Jeep speeding toward him near the small hangar. The man was going so fast, Hylan wondered if he needed to dive out of the way before being hit. At the last minute, the driver slammed on the brakes and stopped within inches of him.

“Bonjour, Mr. Dawson,” the islander shouted a half a second before he jumped out of the vehicle and swept Hylan into a full-body hug. “Welcome home!”

Hylan’s face contorted in confusion, but he managed to put on something that resembled a smile by the time the man released him. “Gotta tell you, me and the missus were starting to wonder if you were ever coming back. Nikki kept insisting that you were coming and…well…here you are!”

“Here I am,” Hylan said. Who in the hell is this guy? Knowing how small the island was, chances were that he was probably embracing some cousin or family member.

“It was just by chance that I was out here dropping off a couple of tourists who were staying at the Anse Chastanet resort when someone said that you were on this flight. You picked a helluva time to arrive with a storm brewing.”

Hylan glanced up. It never ceased to amaze him just how quickly storm clouds gathered over the island.

“Do you need a ride to the house?” the man asked.

“Actually, I was just going to call for—”

“Forget it. I’ll take you. Where’re your bags?” He glanced around just as a young teenager appeared, struggling with Hylan’s luggage.

The driver let out a loud whistle and then yelled a long stream of Antillean Creole at the teen. “I guess it’s a good thing that I came along when I did. Does Nikki know you were coming today?”

“I—”

“Of course she does. What the hell am I thinking?” He laughed and showed his entire top and bottom row of teeth.

Hylan felt as if he was supposed to join in, so he did. “You know, you really don’t have to—”

“Nonsense. I got to go out and see Momma Mahina anyway.”

“Mahina,” Hylan said, happy to finally recognize the name of his housekeeper in the confusing torrent of words the man hurled at him. “You’re Mahina’s son?”

“Nephew, but she’s like a second mom so I call her Momma.” The driver chuckled and then smacked his head. “Where are my manners?” He thrust out his hand. “The name is Rafiq. Momma Mahina and Nikki talk about you so much I feel as though I already know you.”

Hylan’s laugh turned genuine as he finally started to relax around the chatty driver. “Well, in that case, if you’re going my way, I’d love to hitch a ride.”

“Good.” Rafiq’s bright smile was as white as his skin was black. “As you Americans say, let’s get this show on the road.” His large hand smacked across Hylan’s back before he turned and snapped at the teenager to hurry up. “Mr. Dawson doesn’t have all day, son.”

“Mr. Dawson?” The tall, lanky teenager’s eyes perked up with curiosity as he pulled his thick dreads back from his eyes. If Hylan didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that he detected a hint of hostility from the teen. What the hell is this kid’s problem?

The still chuckling Rafiq leaned in with a loud whisper, “Don’t pay Adal any mind. Everyone thinks he has the hots for Nikki. Then again, I’d say Nikki has cast most men in the quarter under her spell.” He winked and elbowed Hylan in his side. “Teenagers. The boy is harmless.”

Adal scowled at Rafiq for ratting him out about his crush on this Nikki chick. Hylan tried to smooth things over by giving the young man a generous tip after he dumped his luggage in the back of the Jeep, but Adal just looked at Hylan’s gratuity as if he’d shoved a snake at him, and then stormed off.

Rafiq’s head rocked back with a hearty gust of laughter. “Aw yeah. The boy got it bad.”

“Oookay.” Hylan crammed the money back into his pants pocket and then climbed into the passenger side of the Jeep.

Rafiq was still laughing when he slammed his foot down on the accelerator of the lightweight four-wheeler and sped away from the airport hangar.

Almost immediately, Hylan grabbed the side door, half way expecting the G-force speed to rip him right out of his seat.

“Now that you’re back, I’m sure the local gossip will finally die down. I don’t mind telling you that people in the quarter was split down the middle as to whether you were ever going to come back.” He grinned over at Hylan. “I have to admit, I had my doubts, too. But then again Nikki is a very beautiful woman. The kind men usually just put on a shelf.”

Hylan frowned. What the hell is this dude talking about?

Rafiq temporarily took his hands off the steering wheel in mock surrender. “I don’t mean no disrespect, man. It’s none of my business. It’s just an observation, if you know what I mean.”

“Not really.” The Jeep swerved out of its lane and Hylan caught sight of a speeding truck, heading toward them. His heart leapt into his throat as he reached over for the wheel. “Pay attention to the road!”

Rafiq nonchalantly took control of the wheel. “No problem, man. I got this.”

Hylan glared as he eased back to his side of the vehicle. He didn’t travel all the way back to paradise so that he could become someone’s hood ornament.

“It’s just that, in the past, I’ve known you to come here with different women,” Rafiq continued as if their lives hadn’t just been snatched out of the jaws of death. “All of them beautiful,” he added hastily. “But in my opinion none of them comes close to Nikki. She’s beautiful both inside and out. Everyone in the quarter will testify to that. She’s been involved with everything from the Dunnottar School for children with disabilities to the Holy Family Charity Home. I swear sometimes if you look closely enough, you can actually see her wings. She’s beautiful, smart, kind, generous and…” he stabbed Hylan with a sharp look “…patient. Truly an angel.”

Is he trying to fix me up with this chick? “I see,” Hylan said. He had to admit that his interest was piqued a little bit. What was there not to like about a beautiful woman who was also smart? “And where is Nikki now?”

Rafiq shrugged. “I imagine at the house. She’s told everyone that she’s working on a new script. After having writer’s block for so long, this is good news, no?”

“At the house?” Hylan struggled to keep up with the conversation.

“Oh wait ‘til you see. Nikki has done an amazing job redecorating the place. Not to mention she’s been a godsend for Momma Mahina. You know she will never admit that she’s getting on in years and can’t do the things she used to do.”

Hylan felt as if he’d finally put the pieces to this strange puzzle together. Mahina hired an assistant that had apparently become the talk of the quarter. “So Nikki works with Mahina?”

“And thank the good Lord. After Hurricane Richard blew through here nine months ago, Momma Mahina needed all the help she could get.”

Hylan nodded, remembering hearing about the storm. His assistant had kept him abreast of all the repairs with his insurance company, his accountant, and his property manager, Mahina. With his company growing and the demands on his time, Hylan had put his complete trust in Mahina’s abilities and it sounded as if it had paid off. “Well, I’ll make sure that I thank Nikki personally for helping hold down the fort.”

“I bet you will.” Rafiq winked and then reached over and turned up the radio. The unmistakable voice of Saint Lucia native Taj Weekes boomed loudly from the speakers. Hylan and Rafiq bobbed their heads in time to the melodic bass. The music was the perfect backdrop to the lush, verdant scenery of wild orchids, giant ferns and Caribbean flamingos. And Soufrière was different from the other Saint Lucia quarters because it had the world’s only drive-in volcanic crater. Hylan always made a point of visiting it whenever he was on the island and could already feel himself getting excited at the prospect of seeing the sulfur springs again.

As the music of Weekes faded out, Rafiq turned the radio back down and grinned at Hylan. “So are you staying long or are you just swooping in to take our lovely Nikki away from us?”

“I’m just in for two weeks.” Hylan struggled to keep his grin from turning cocky. Rafiq seemed extremely confident in Hylan’s game when it came to women. But if this Nikki chick was even half the dime-piece Rafiq thought she was, then Hylan would be down for whatever. Vacations were always best when they were spent with the opposite sex. “But I can be persuaded to stay longer.”

Rafiq’s cocky grin matched Hylan’s as he made a sharp left on a rustic coastal road that ascended to Dawson’s private estate. Once they cleared the overgrown foliage, the two-story white, palatial villa stretched up toward a darkening blue sky.

“Looks like we’re in for a rough one,” Hylan observed.

“What are you going to do? It’s that time of year.” Rafiq said as he slammed on the brakes.

Hylan’s hands shifted from the door to the dashboard, which he was certain he was just seconds from sailing through. Before he could curse the driver out, Rafiq had jumped from behind the wheel and started unloading the bags.

“Welcome home,” Rafiq declared and then marched up toward the front door.

Hylan stumbled out of the vehicle on shaky legs and grabbed the two remaining bags. The moment he crossed the threshold however, he pulled up short and wondered if Rafiq had taken him to the right house. “What the…”

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” Rafiq said, bobbing his head and smiling as if he expected Hylan to turn cartwheels or something.

He almost did. Not that he didn’t like his house before with its pristine, airy, white décor that, quite frankly, most villas—whether they were homes or resorts—showcased. His spacious vacation villa now looked both modern and urbane, intimate, masculine, quiet and sophisticated—especially with its coffee-colored walls.

“This looks like it cost me a fortune,” he said. His gaze danced across the room with its new furniture and an array of eclectic artworks.

Rafiq shrugged. “I don’t know about such things. You’d have to ask the missus about that.”

Hylan bobbed his head, but then when Rafiq’s words registered, he frowned and turned his head toward him. “Ask who?”

“All I’m saying is that a man’s house is his castle, no?”

Hylan started to answer when this angelic voice floated down from the second level. “Rafiq, is that you?”

Hylan didn’t think it was possible but the man’s smile stretched even wider as he brushed a hand over his bushy, uneven ‘fro.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The woman laughed and it sounded like sweet music to Hylan’s ears.

“I thought so. I’d recognize that engine anywhere. When are you going to get a tune-up?”

Obviously embarrassed, Rafiq’s broad smile dimmed as he kicked the tiled floor in the foyer. “Soon. I’ll get it to the shop later this week. Promise.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Can you go help Momma Mahina out in the guesthouse? We’re storm-proofing all the windows.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Rafiq started bowing even though the woman had yet to grace him with her presence. “By the way Nikki, I, um, brought you home a gift.” He poked another sharp elbow into Hylan’s ribs.

Hylan flinched, but not before debating whether to send a quick jab upside Rafiq’s head. He spared him this time, but if the man elbowed him again, all bets were off.

“No more gifts, Rafiq,” the woman said, her voice becoming clearer as she approached the top of the stairs. “I told you that I’m a happily married woman.” She stepped into view and froze.

Hylan’s eyes widened with a sudden jolt of recognition—like any man could ever forget those stacked curves or even that face. “You.” In the next second, he felt as if he was spiraling out of control in some mad man’s vertigo. He dropped the bags that were in his hands and at the last second managed a little more strength in his knees. Was he dreaming or was he seeing that New York actress’s twin? They say everyone has one.

After a few more seconds, Hylan felt as if he was getting his bearings back—at least that’s what he took his growing hard-on to mean.

“Ah, Nikki, I knew you’d like this gift,” Rafiq boasted, slamming his large, bony hand against the center of Hylan’s back.

Nikki? This was the infamous woman Rafiq bragged about? Hylan dropped his gaze so that he could take in the pleasure of its slow climb back up her body. This certainly had the makings of becoming a memorable vacation.

Rafiq’s laughter bubbled between the silent couple. “Looks like I was wrong. Nikki didn’t know you were coming. You old dog.” He delivered another whack against Hylan’s back, before he then leaned over and whispered, “About that gift thing, that’s just a little inside joke between us two. I would never hit on your wife.”

Rafiq’s declaration may as well have been a sucker punch. “My wife!”