She glanced towards the other passengers. There were only two, neither of whom looked even remotely like they would need to swipe her bag. They popped their seat belts, standing as the pilot slid the door open.
Catching her staring, one of them gave her a slight smile, dipping his head politely. If she’d had any doubts about thieving fingers, they were quashed the moment she saw that neither of the two gentlemen—who were both wearing stylish shorts and t-shirts with nowhere to conceal her missing bag—were carrying any luggage.
Once they had disembarked she hung back, checking each seat and rack in turn, her heart pounding at a dizzying speed. Everything was in that bag, her passport, her phone, the paperwork for the hotel. Turning full circle, her hands cupped her face in a failing attempt to calm her breathing.
“Are you okay, Miss?” the pilot, Shane, questioned from the door.
“I—no, my bag, it has my passport and …” she could hear herself panting as dizziness began to wash over her, and heat chased across her skin in a sickening wave. Oh, God, she was going to faint. She could feel the world spinning around her. She leaned forward, grasping the back of a seat to keep herself upright as her knees threatened to buckle. This could not be happening. This was meant to be a fresh start, a new opportunity. She was meant to be leaving disaster and misfortune behind.
“Just breathe, Miss, I’m sure we’ll find it. Sit down, have a drink. Now, where did you have it last?” He passed her a bottle of water, guiding her into a seat before checking the plane as she had moments ago. While he did, she recounted the last time she knew she had it for certain.
She knew no one had bumped into her; she had to have left it somewhere. She admitted she hadn’t really being paying attention after the incident with her case. “I’ve had my fair share of tourists having their bag straps cut, you wouldn’t even feel it. Happens more than it should, especially to people getting a ride to one of these islands, these islands mean money if you know what I mean.” He gave her a consolatory smile.
“What do I do now?”
“I’ll radio the airport see if anyone has handed anything in. Speak with your hotel manager, they’ll contact the embassy and sort you out some travel documents or a replacement. Nothing you can do about it now, just try to relax and enjoy your holiday. I’ll send word to the hotel if anything turns upon the main island.” She looked up to him as he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“Thank you.” She took another sip of water, not yet trusting herself to move.
“So you’ve come from England, that’s quite a trek,” he commented, moving to sit in the seat across from her. His friendly smile dissolved a small fraction of the tension. Even flustered it was hard not to notice he was a good-looking man, mature with laughter lines crinkling around his friendly brown eyes. His black hair was a little overgrown, somewhere between unkempt and unruly, yet just being near him seemed to have a comforting effect.
“Actually I live in Manhattan. I mean, lived, I’m here for a job.”
“Ah, that’s not so bad then, time’s on your side. You’ll just need to contact the embassy in Nassau once you’re settled, but I’ll bet your employer already sorted your work permit.” She found his reassurance comforting. He was right, it was nothing that couldn’t be resolved with a few phone calls, her breathing calming a little, the knots in her stomach slackening.
This wasn’t the disaster it could have been, she had clothes in her hand luggage, and as Shane said, the embassy could sort her out with a new passport. She took a cathartic breath.
“That’s true,” she answered, fanning her face. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it, I fly this route twice a day. When you need to pick up your documents, I’ll be here. Now, do you need any help getting where you’re going? I’m not due to leave for a few hours, I can walk you to the collection point.”
She accepted his offer graciously, listening as he distracted her with stories of his pilot training and humorous tales of his experiences. He waited with her until the transport arrived, bidding her farewell with a gentlemanly kiss on her hand, causing a blush to chase across her skin. At least the people here seemed friendly. It almost made up for the string of disasters.
When the car pulled up outside of the hotel, for a few minutes, she was convinced the driver had the wrong address. The enormous structure before her wasn’t a hotel, it was a palace. Even the walls looked expensive. Their clean beige appearance conjured images of daily scrubbing and cleaning to keep them pristine. Columned stone rails ran adjacent to external walkways that were interspaced with beautiful carved patterns.
From her orientation file, which listed details about the hotel and its services, she knew it had a Personal Concierge service, and that their clientele were used to life’s luxuries, but this building looked affluent beyond the images her mind had created. A gnawing tension surfaced in her gut warning her she was out of place, that simply standing in the vicinity of this magnificent building somehow sullied the prestigious surroundings.
The moment she removed her case from the boot the driver pulled away, preventing her from embracing the flight response that was rocketing into overdrive as she watched the steady approach of the finely clothed man who, stopping gracefully beside her, lifted the battered object from her grasp in a way that left no room for arguments.
“Miss Sinclair, I presume.” He smiled, studying her for a moment as if to commit her every detail to memory. It was an assessment she returned with a blush. His dark blond hair had been sculpted into understated spikes and he stood about the same height as Miles, making him around five foot ten, but where Miles was broad, this man was more slender.
His slim fit, bronze windowpane suit fitted him to perfection. He looked the image of sophistication from the perfectly creased trousers which were the same colour as his gold-thread embroidered waistcoat, all the way to the wing-tip collar of the white shirt that folded perfectly over the bronze and gold bow tie.
Glancing down at herself she flushed in shame at her leggings, and pulled the belt of her grey cardigan a little tighter over her maroon tank top. Out of place was an understatement for how she was feeling, and now this man had her battered case in his hand a subtle retreat was no longer an option. “I’m Lex, if you need anything at all I am at your disposal, day or night.”
“Ivy,” she extended her hand in greeting, watching as the young man gracefully switched her case to the other hand to accept her gesture with a smile that reached all the way to his hazel eyes, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.” As it always did, when she was feeling rather unimpressive in the company she was keeping, her accent became a little stronger as she took care to carefully pronounce each of her words in an oh-so-British fashion.
“Oh, you’re British, how delightful.” He mimicked her accent with a cheeky twinkle in his eye before guiding her through the door to the hotel, escorting her inside a foyer so magnificent that the New York Philharmonic would have looked at home playing in one of its alcoves. Her feet stumbled slightly, scuffing the pristine marble floor as she realised the classical music she could hear was being played by a live orchestra in the large circular room.
Her gaze scanned the signs, hoping to get a scope of this place and what would be expected from her. Four ball rooms, twelve dining rooms, six pools, three spas, four gyms … with each room listed her heart beat harder and faster, three beauty parlours, five hairdressers, fourteen large meeting rooms, fifteen small meeting rooms, twelve lounges, the list went on, outside terraces, garden dining, gyms.
Her head spun. She was so far out of her element she’d needed a satellite camera to even see it. No wonder they wanted her to see if she thought she’d fit here before taking the job. She had no doubt she could do it, but this foyer alone could hold her old apartment in at least ten times over. There were even small ride on vehicles near the door to transport people from one part of the hotel to another. “I think that’s the best reaction I’ve seen from anyone since I starte
d working here.”
As Lex spoke she realised she’d frozen in place, her mouth agape as her wide eyes took in every single aspect of the room, from the delicately carved high ceilings, to the mosaic patterns embedded into the highly polished marble floors. Lex was grinning at her as she blinked back the wonder, but it took him placing his hand on the small of her back to encourage her forward.
“This place is …” She shook her head unable to find a word to finish her sentence which caused the man beside her to chuckle.
“Tiffany, the hotel manager, has asked if it would be convenient to speak with you before you get settled.” A shadow appeared in his eyes that turned the giddy heat she was feeling into an icy chill. “Any of the reception staff will be happy to assist you if you require anything, but my number will be on speed dial one in your room, so don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s anything I can do. You can also call me from any of the phones you’ll find on the premises by dialling your room number.”
Ivy looked at him again, realising this man must be her assigned mentor, perhaps he was even the person who was leaving the job. She could certainly use his experience. She wondered how long it would take her to no longer feel overwhelmed by all this grandeur.
As they made their way across the foyer, Ivy realised that the many receptions she had noticed were each manned by a perfectly pristine figure. Everyone working here was so polished it made her feel like Pigpen walking amongst royalty.
She glanced behind her, half expecting to be leaving a trail of poverty tarnishing the highly sheened floors, and was only a little offended to see someone was cleaning the foyer. She truly hoped it had nothing to do with the fact she’d just walked there.
“What can you tell me about this place, what are the guest and staff areas like?”
“As you know, the most basic room goes for fifteen hundred dollars a night, being all-inclusive you have access to any of the gourmet restaurants and all food, drink, hotel services, along with the numerous activities we host, are included in that price. The staff have their own floor, with their own accommodations since everyone here accepted a live in position in order to be available any time our services are required, day or night.”
“How many people stay here?”
“This is the smallest of the Reverie Muse hotels, as such we have sixty suites, ten imperial suites, fifteen royal suites and two penthouse apartments. Generally this time of year is our peak season so we operate at almost full capacity.”
“What about the island, I didn’t even realise this one existed, not that I know all the islands here of course.” She blushed realising it was a ridiculous thing to say.
“Not many people have heard of this one, as I am sure you know it’s more a word of mouth recommendation. This island is privately owned and each aspect is catered towards the millionaire playboy, playgirl lifestyle. Bars, activities, nightlife, sex, drugs, and rock and roll, the whole shebang,” he added with a teasing grin. “Don’t get me wrong, there are laws, consent is a must and murder is a no. But since the rich live in a different world the laws here accommodate this lifestyle.”
He paused for a moment as they reached a spacious office, nodding to a woman who was sitting watching them from behind a curved counter. “Thank you for agreeing to see Tiffany. It must have been a long flight. I am sure she will appreciate you making the time.”
Lex gestured towards a heavy walnut door. The gold handle positively gleamed, and it was impossible not to notice that not a single speck of dust had settled in any of the intricate carvings. “I’ll move your case to your room. Do you travel light or is there another plane on the way?” He laughed at her incredulous expression, before knocking on the door for her.
When the silky voice beckoned from within Ivy found herself pulling the sleeve of her cardigan down over her hand to avoid leaving a fingerprint on the handle, while wondering briefly if it was actually gold given how much a night this place must make.
Behind a large desk, with her eyes fixed to the computer screen, was a woman so stunning she could steal the breath from Aeolus. Her dark hair fell in natural curls to her shoulders, each tight spiral perfectly defined. As she raised her gaze, the pale glow from the monitor caressed her ebony skin like silver moonlight across the dark ocean.
“Miss Sinclair, please take a seat.” Her velvety voice commanded as she gestured toward the expensive looking chair at the opposite side of the desk. Ivy felt herself blush. She was still wearing the same clothes she had left the house in this morning, and wondered, briefly, if her thighs would betray her if she was to stoop rather than risk sitting on the expensive-looking upholstery.
Reluctantly she sat, perching on the very edge of the chair, touching as little of it as possible. “Thank you for flying all this way, unfortunately there has been a change of circumstances. The member of staff you were to replace has decided not to vacate the position.” Ivy felt her stomach tighten, heat burning through her stomach. “I understand this is an inconvenience, and in order to thank you for coming we will still be happy to still compliment you with a week’s stay, all-inclusive, at the resort and cover the expense of a return flight to Manhattan or a place of your choosing in way of an apology.
“I have updated the systems so as far as anyone in the hotel is concerned you’re a paying guest. A generous gratuity has been included in our package for you, so don’t let anything prevent you from enjoying this experience.
“I will, however, have to insist you sign these NDAs.” The woman placed a slender hand on some paperwork to her right. Her direct tone held nothing but professionalism, and the manner in which she seamlessly spoke, thankfully, gave Ivy no chance to speak. She didn’t trust her voice at this moment. “It’s a terrible situation, but I hope you’ll agree the compensation is fair and you understand the need for us to keep such incidents quiet. Also you’ll notice the NDA extends to cover the privacy of anyone staying here within the resort. What happens here stays here. Our clientele expect a certain level of discretion as you can understand, and are each required to sign one before stepping foot on our resort.”
The woman slid the paperwork over to her. Ivy took the time to read the first one. It was a pretty standard NDA including a clause where it expressed photographs taken by anyone other than their official photographers were prohibited. She initialled to say she was okay with appearing in photographs and that a third-party did not need to ask her permission to get a copy if she appeared in one with them. She signed the first, sliding it back before reading the second.
It was unusual to sign two, but this one specifically related to her situation, and not mentioning to anyone the circumstances of her stay. She supposed it made sense, this was a millionaires’ resort, and she clearly did not belong. Her mind barely took in the information she was reading. How could everything have gone so wrong? She pushed a hand to smooth her hair down, giving her ponytail a quick tug before refocusing her attention on the text.
The woman flashed her a brilliant smile as the pen scratched her signature across the paper with trembling fingers. “I have assigned Alexander to be your Personal Concierge. Should you need anything he will attend to it for you. I have kept your details on our system, should a similar vacancy open in the future we won’t hesitate to contact you.
“That said, I hope you will enjoy your stay. If there’s anything I can be of assistance with, please don’t hesitate to ask.” Ivy took a moment to catch her breath. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, the job she had flown here to get was gone. She had no job, no apartment, no phone, no passport. The passport, she reminded herself, taking a slow breath.
“Actually.” Ivy heard the weakness in her voice and steeled herself. She could feel this later, for now she needed to focus on what needed doing. “When I was at Lynden Pindling someone stole my bag with my phone and passport in. I was told you could place a call to the embassy so I can arrange a new one.”
“That won’t be a problem. I’ll schedule a call
with them tomorrow at nine a.m. to be routed directly to your room. Can I help you with anything else?”
“No, thank you. I appreciate you letting me stay.” She reminded herself to breathe again as she rapidly tried to blink away the burning sensation in her eyes.
“I know you must be disappointed, so if there is anything we can do to make your stay here better please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Ivy let herself out of the room, only to find Lex was already waiting for her. He gave her a warm smile and she felt herself flush. For the next week this young man was at her beck and call, and something about that sat uneasily with her. She could already hear Miles’ voice in the back of her mind saying her discomfort was so very British. Miles. Thinking of him caused her breath to catch again.
The glossy floor became her sole focus during her moment of silent contemplation as she mulled over her options. She was here now, stranded. For better or worse there was nothing she could do until she resolved her passport crisis. Biting her lower lip she nodded to herself, reaching a decision.
For the next week she’d push any thoughts of him aside. He’d made his decision and she needed to respect that, besides she had more important things to worry about than the status of her love life.
“Ivy, I’m ready to escort you to your room. If you’ll follow me you’ll find some chilled champagne and a selection of fresh fruit awaiting you arrival.”
“Lex, can I ask you something?” She stepped inside the elevator, her fingers already reaching for the buttons before she realised she didn’t know what floor she was on. Lex’s eyes danced with amusement before he reached out, pressing the number sixteen.
“Anything.”
“If you were me, what would you do here? Between us, this holiday was a … gift. I feel a little like a fish out of water. A very dirty fish flopping around on the royal palace’s red carpet.” He chuckled, his face once more breaking into a genuine grin that made it so easy for her to smile.
Breaking Sin: A kidnap abduction story (Addicted to Sin Book 1) Page 8