Читать книгу Secret Paradise - Dara Girard - Страница 9

Chapter 1

Dear God, how was he going to tell her? J. D. Rozan set his phone down and shut off his computer, trying to strategize how best to break the news to his wife.

Monica knew about tragedy. Her first husband had died in a vicious incident, and she’d survived a past that would have sent another type of woman to a mental ward. He’d wanted to protect her from any more pain, but that seemed impossible. The last three years had been perfect. Nothing to mar their idyllic existence at the farmhouse in Georgia. J.D. looked out the window and saw the red flash of a cardinal as it flew past. He thought of their daughter, Starla, who was napping in the upstairs nursery. She was a happy child who giggled at the sound of thunderstorms and loved to jump into puddles. This lazy summer day he’d taken time off because Monica’s sister, Nikki, had come to visit and he planned to take them all to the beach. But that would have to change.

J.D. pushed himself from his chair and left the room he used as a study. He had to tell her. He’d just have to do it fast. He took a deep breath and walked toward his wife’s studio, where she designed jewelry for her clients around the world. J.D. stood in front of the door and raised his hand to knock, then hesitated when he heard Monica’s laughter, followed by her sister’s. J.D. let his hand fall. He could tell her later, at dinner or before they went to bed, but then he didn’t know how much time there was left. She needed to know now. He sighed, then knocked.

“Come in.”

J.D. stepped into the bright, airy studio. He saw his wife and stopped. She was so beautiful that even the sun seemed to seek her out in the room, its tender rays stroking her long, straight black river of hair, caressing her exquisite profile and highlighting her gorgeous eyes. She greeted him with a smile, which always made him want to kiss her. Her younger sister, Nikki, sat in the shadowed corner near the window, wearing jeans and a peasant blouse, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail sporting two silver streaks. She wasn’t as striking as her sister, but she had a unique beauty all her own, sharp hazel eyes and a pug nose. There was no envy between the sisters, just an acceptance similar to how the moon made way for the sun. J.D. was glad she was there.

He took a deep breath and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Monica.” That was all he said. He’d never know if it was the tone or his expression, but something made her drop her tools.

She ran over to him, her eyes wide with fear. “What happened?”

He led her over to a chair. “Sit down.”

She pulled away from him. “Just tell me.”

“It’s Lucian.”

She collapsed into the chair. “He’s dead?”

“Nearly. At this point it’s touch and go. The doctors are doing everything they can for him.”

“What happened?” Nikki asked when her sister remained silent.

“An explosion at his mansion caused a massive fire, and he and Callia were trapped inside and barely escaped. He was badly burned. They had to put him into a coma. His brother Basilio just called me. He wants us to be prepared in case…”

Monica shook her head. “He’s strong.” She returned to her drafting table, as if everything was settled. J.D. shared a look with Nikki. If she wanted to be in denial, who was he to stop her?

Nikki frowned. “Monica, you can’t pretend that he may not make it.”

Monica spun around and glared at her sister. “I’m not pretending anything. I know Lucian Kontos and I know that a man like him will live.”

Nikki rolled her eyes. “Monica—”

“No.”

J.D. shook his head. “Honey—”

Monica looked at him, her lips pursed. “He’ll get through this.” She pointed a pencil at him. “When we went to his island for our honeymoon, I was still having nightmares about my past and couldn’t stop. Do you know what he said? He said that if anything ever happened to you, he’d take care of me. That I was his family, too, and it was real. He sees you as a brother. You can’t give up on him.”

J.D. threw up his hands in frustration. “I’m not giving up on him. I’ve known him for years. I love him as much as you do, but I know about his injuries. He’s been badly burned. This is a man who loves life, and all that it has to offer. He’ll be undergoing several surgeries, but we have to admit that in spite of all the therapy and plastic surgery he may be able to afford, there’s still a limitation to what medicine can do. He may not regain the use of his arm or ever walk again. Even if he lives, he won’t be the same man.”

“He’ll recover,” Monica said defiantly.

J.D. folded his arms and looked grim.

Nikki stiffened. “There’s something else you’re not telling us.”

J.D. nodded. “It’s about the explosion. They think it was arson.”

“Someone tried to kill him?” Monica asked.

“They’re investigating. His brother is looking into all possibilities.”

“I’m sure it was a simple accident,” Nikki said, reading the look of horror on Monica’s face.

Monica shook her head. “That house is enormous. He should have had time to escape.”

“Fires move fast,” Nikki said.

“Mama?” a tiny voice said through the baby monitor.

Nikki stood. “I’ll get her,” she said quickly, then left before anyone could argue.

Monica watched her sister go, then returned her gaze to J.D. “Are you going to see him?”

“When I can. He’s in a secret location, and I’ll wait for word from his brother when it seems safe.”

“Call him back and tell him to tell Lucian about the baby.”

J.D. searched her face, confused. “The baby? What baby?”

She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. “Ours.”

“You’re pregnant?”

She winked.

For a moment J.D. just stared at her, not knowing what to say or even how to feel. At first he felt an almost intoxicating joy; then, as he thought of his friend, guilt and sadness mingled with it.

“He’s in a coma,” J.D. said in a grave tone. “There’s no point.”

“But part of him may hear. The part that wants to live.” Monica caressed the side of his face. “He will live.”

J.D. gathered her close. He closed his eyes, determined to believe her—feeling her warmth and strength and courage. She was right. Lucian was a tough SOB. He would rise like the phoenix.

“Good job!” Nikki said, clapping her hands when Starla threw a stick for the family dog, Baxter, to retrieve. It had barely gone a foot, but Nikki acted as if little Starla had the makings of a javelin thrower. Starla giggled, delighting in her aunt’s praise, and Baxter picked up the stick, his tail wagging. They played in the front yard, where Nikki had taken them after Starla’s nap. She enjoyed being in the outdoors, especially on warm summer days like this. Were she alone, she would be lazing on the porch with a cool glass of iced tea.

“Now it’s my turn,” she said when Baxter dropped the stick at her feet. She picked it up and threw it far enough to give the dog some exercise.

“Good job!” a voice said behind her.

Nikki turned and saw her sister coming out of the house. She held up a hand. “Stop right there.”

Monica paused, puzzled. “What?”

“Do I know you from somewhere? You look vaguely familiar. Has anyone ever told you that you should model?” Nikki chuckled as she took a seat on the porch step.

Monica made a face. “Shut up,” she said in good humor.

“Don’t you sometimes miss those days?” Nikki asked, referring to her sister’s past as a top fashion model.

Monica sat on the porch step above hers. “No. When I’m here, I feel richer than I’ve ever been.”

Nikki could see it. Her sister glowed with good health and happiness. “I’m glad.”

“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier.”

Nikki shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time we argued about a man.”

Monica lowered her head and Nikki fell silent, because they both knew that was true. Nikki had never taken to Monica’s first husband, Delong Price, who’d whisked Monica away and launched her as the international beauty named Venus: a symbol of sex, glamour and elegance. But now those days were over. Nikki looked around her. Her sister and J.D. owned a slice of heaven here. They called it a farmhouse, but over the years it had expanded into a magnificent piece of architecture, while retaining its wholesome feel and charm. Nikki found herself spending any free moment she could find visiting her sister and her family.

She’d never been this close to her sister since they were children. Delong had liked to keep Monica to himself, and if she wasn’t with him, she was working. Now she had her own business and a more relaxed schedule and a man who let her be completely herself. Nikki liked J.D. At first glance she wouldn’t have selected him for Monica. He was handsome, with the cool command of a businessman and the slight ruthlessness that went with it, but she’d never seen that side of him. Only kindness. At times Nikki imagined meeting her own J.D. but always brushed the thought aside. Her sister’s life could never be hers. She did wonder about Lucian though. Anytime J.D. or Monica talked about him, she found herself listening closer. He intrigued her. She knew he’d come to visit a few times, but they always seemed to miss each other. Monica had once mentioned that Lucian had commented on her design skills.

They’d allowed her to infuse the farmhouse with their African American and Native American heritage, and she’d used aging cedar, with ancestral images hand carved into the walls. The front door featured unique symbols of good fortune, but she’d learned what Lucian liked most were the series of retractable skylights she put in the family room. She would have liked to find out what else he’d like, but now it seemed she might never get the chance to meet him.

Baxter returned and dropped the stick in front of them. Monica picked it up and threw it. Starla giggled and Nikki clapped and said in mocking tones, “Good job! Beautiful and strong.”

Monica playfully punched her in the arm. “You’re a nuisance.”

Nikki rested back on her elbows and looked up at the sky. “Did you tell him about the baby?”

“Yes, just a few minutes ago.”

Nikki looked at her, curious. “How did he take it?”

“He’s thrilled.”

“I would have waited until another time.”

Monica shrugged. “I know J.D. He needed something to smile about. He’s really worried about Lucian.”

“I hope your friend makes it.”

Monica pulled a picture out of her pocket and handed it to her. “This is his house.”

Nikki took the photograph and stared at the expansive mansion. “I know. You showed it to me before.” She’d been amazed by the honeymoon photos Monica had shown her of Lucian’s island. Lush, romantic, exclusive. She would have loved the chance to see inside his house. But she’d never been bold enough to invite herself. However, although there were pictures of the island and mansion, there were none of the man. In one photo she’d seen a shadowy figure in the background, but it had been too blurry to make out any features. Monica had told her Lucian didn’t like to have his photo taken and kept to himself.

Nikki handed the photo back to Monica, confused as to why her sister had given it to her. “Most of it has been burned, right?”

“Yes, he’s going to need to rebuild.”

“I’m sure he will.”

“And redesign it.”

Nikki frowned, suspicious. “Where are you going with this?”

“He’s going to need you.”

Nikki laughed. “Me? Why me?”

“Because you’re the best.”

Nikki smiled. “And?”

“And what?”

Nikki narrowed her eyes. “You’re up to something.”

“His place is awe-inspiring.”

“So is the Taj Mahal.”

“Once you get to know him—”

Nikki shook her head. “I’m seeing someone already.”

“I saw the way you looked at his house.”

“Because it’s amazing.”

Monica smiled. “Wait until you meet the man.”