by Mila McClung
The party had started below. The noise level was giving her a headache. She stepped out onto a curvaceous balcony, savored the delicious evening breeze. She was wearing a silky, cream-colored gown with a 40s style palm tree print and emerald heels, her hair swept up in a mound of dripping curls laced with bejeweled combs.
“You look beautiful!” a husky voice whispered in the wind. Tess perked up, turned to see him, Angel, as he stared at her with those glistening blue-green eyes. She gasped. She’d been thinking of him, thought he must be near if he was so strong in her mind. He was divine, dressed in a sleek black tux with a red cummerbund showing through the unbuttoned jacket. His face was clean-shaved, his black hair smooth, his tongue darting hungrily between his full lips. Was she dreaming him?
“Why are you here?” she heard herself ask.
“I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Rumors were flying that Patrick Mercer had found his long-lost daughter. I guess that would be you.”
“Yes.”
“So you weren’t rich when I met you, but you are now?”
“What difference does it make?”
“None, or a lot. Depends on your point of view.”
“Your name is Angel.”
“Could be.”
“The guy at the motorbike shop said it was.”
“Then it must be. Old Harry’s never wrong about anything. He said a redheaded fox was there, asking about me.”
Why was he being so damned cool? Didn’t he see how she wanted him? Needed him? He could take her there, on the balcony, and she wouldn’t resist. “Take me!” her mind screamed. “Love me right NOW!”
“Angel …”
“Yeah?”
“You want me. You must. I’ve never talked to anyone like this before. But please, don’t let me stand here, dying inside.”
“You want me to make love to you, with all those people downstairs? People who came here to welcome you into the Rich Elite’s Club? You’d keep them waiting, for me?”
“Yes, they can wait, a little while,” she sighed.
“No, I don’t want you like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want you someplace else.”
“Where?”
“Will you leave with me now? Shun that crowd of hyenas down there and run off with me?”
“But my father … Patrick … he expects me to show up eventually.”
“Why? So he can show you off? Do you want to be examined like a prize cow?”
“You don’t understand. He’s so proud of me, of having a daughter. And my mom’s arriving tonight. I should be here. I don’t know how she’ll react when she sees my dad.”
“Excuses, Tess. If you want me, it’s going to have to be on my terms.”
“Why? Are you one of those ‘it’s my way or the highway’ kind of men?”
“Maybe. Would that be so bad?”
“It could be, if I have my own way to go.”
“Then go. I’ll see you around.”
He slipped into a bedroom doorway, disappeared before she could stop him.
Tess was stunned. He couldn’t expect her to leave, with all those people there. She was the center of the party, for God’s sake!
She heard an engine start up, looked down to see a slinky black convertible oozing over the road. Was that him? It must be. She had a desperate urge to hop down the balcony stairs and run after him like a dog but her pride, and her heels, kept her still. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes; she dried them carefully to avoid smudging her mascara. She’d cry later, when she was alone in her bed, pining for him like an idiot. Right now she was the guest of honor at Patrick’s party, and she would not disappoint him.
A swell of fancily plumed parrots and their handsome escorts greeted her as she slowly descended the grand hallway stairs. The men smiled at her approvingly, undressing her with their bold glances. She tried to ignore them, made her hellos to the women then sought out Patrick Mercer.
“Darling, you look wonderful!” he shouted above the din. “I’m very proud of you. Have you heard from your mother?”
“Yes, she’s at the airport. Your limo picked her up. She’s on her way. You won’t see her in this crowd, will you? It might prove to be too much.”
“No, no, I’ll have her sent into my private den. And you, as well. We’ll have a real homecoming, hum?”
He was much too cheerful about it. Tess took a deep breath; looked for a drink to steady her. Jack Leonardi was at the bar, without Kylie.
“Where’s your new lady?”
“Lady, my ass! Why didn’t you tell me she was an office drone?”
“Why should I tell you that? She’s a great girl, and beautiful, too.”
“Ha! Like that makes a difference! She’s still working class.”
“And what are you, Jack?” Patrick said as he walked up. “I had you looked into, and apparently, you’re poorer than a church mouse.”
Tess gazed at Jack in awe.
“So what if I am? I never said I was rich.”
“No, but you’ve been implying that you were to several young women in our crowd. Are you hoping to start a career as a gigolo, Jack?”
“No, I only wanted to marry well. What’s wrong with that?”
“Well, if I have to tell you …”
“You’d better look to your own before you accuse me, Patrick, old man. Your new daughter here came down to the Caymans for the same reason. She’s just like Gayle!”
“Who’s Gayle?” Tess questioned.
“No one important,” Patrick mumbled. “Leonardi, I expect you to leave my house. I won’t have you spreading ridiculous rumors about Tess!”
“I’m afraid he’s right, Patrick.”
He looked at her with hurt eyes. “You don’t mean it.”
“It’s true. Kylie asked me to come along so we could both find rich husbands. I wasn’t serious about it, seemed like a good way to get a vacation to me.”
“Lucky you, finding a Sugar Daddy instead.”
“Shut up, Jack! Tess, come into my den, please. Meg should be here soon.”
She nodded, almost crying at the expression of disappointment on his weathered face.
“I’m worried about Kylie. I wonder how she’s taking the breakup with Jack.”
“I’m sure she’s fine. That woman could probably talk her way out of murder.”
“No, she puts on a big act but deep down she’s just a scared little girl, like me.”
He led her to a leather sofa. “What are you afraid of, child?”
“Of never being loved, of growing old, alone and bitter, like my mom. All sorts of things. Aren’t you ever afraid?”
“Yes, certainly. At my age a man begins to examine his existence rather harshly. I’ve lived a selfish life, my exes can attest to that. But I was driven always by the pain of losing your mother. She was life to me, and passion and strength. Her spirit was as unbreakable as iron, and I envied that. I was weak. I let my parents rule me. They told me she accepted money to stop seeing me. I should have realized that wasn’t true. And I never knew about you. If I had, Heaven and Earth couldn’t have kept me from her side.”
An ear-splitting sob echoed throughout the cavernous den. They turned to see Tess’ mother dropping to the floor. Patrick ran to her, swept her up in gentle arms and laid her upon the leather sofa.
“Mom, are you okay?”
“Yes, oh yes. Patrick, I can’t believe it! When I walked in and saw you with Tess, and heard everything you said … I was shocked! My head is reeling. It is you? I’m not insane?”
“It’s me, darling!” He drowned her in rapturous kisses, mumbling endearments Tess felt embarrassed to hear. She backed out of the room gracefully and crept outside.
“Driver, could you take me to the Swan House?” she inquired of Patrick’s chauffer, an attractive young black man with dreadlocks pulled back into a bun.
“Yes, I can. Hop on in!”
She nodded; he started
the limo, swerved it out of the drive and onward towards the other side of George Town where Swan House sat prettily upon the hill.
Once inside, Tess searched the rooms frantically, feeling in her gut that something was horribly wrong.
“Kylie? Where are you?”
Silence answered her. She peeked into the downstairs rooms then took the steps in bounds after discarding her heels. Kylie’s bedroom door stood open. Tess could hear water running. She glanced over the disheveled bedroom then hurried to the bath. The tub was filled with water and rose petals, the faucet pouring an endless stream out onto the floor. Tess came nearer, her heart caught in her throat as she saw the blonde hair floating like sea grass in the water.
“Kylie, no!’ Tess grabbed her, yanked her up out of the water and over onto the tiles. Then she started CPR; time became suspended, minutes dragged on. Finally Kylie began to sputter and cough and vomit water all over her nightgown. “Dammit, girl! Jack isn’t worth this!”
“It wasn’t him,” Kylie cried. “I drank too much, and lost my senses. I guess I can’t handle my liquor after all. But then, too, I was upset about you, getting rich so easily! After all I planned, years of calculating, and researching, and educating myself! And you come down here … boom … and you get it all, without doing one thing!”
“I can’t help who I am, Kylie. You should be ashamed of yourself, trying to take this way out! Life is precious. And it isn’t like you’re poor. You can go back to your job.”
“I didn’t try to drown myself on purpose. It was the booze! And, anyway, I hate my job! I hate Astoria! I can’t ever go back there. I didn’t plan to, and I won’t! I’ll sell off my stuff, and stay here. There must be jobs here for a woman like me.”
“Of course there are. How’d you like to be a secretary?”
“Whose?”
“Mine, maybe? You know how to be rich. I don’t. You can help me. Will you?”
Kylie sat up, flicked her wet hair off her face, laughing ruefully.
“Sure, why not! Better help me pack, though. A working girl needs to save her money. I hope I can get a refund for the fortune I shelled out on this place!”
They rode back to Patrick’s mansion. Once Tess described the situation to him, he offered Kylie a warm room and a position as Tess’ personal secretary. She took it graciously and went to bed.
The party was still raging onward by midnight; the things took on a life of their own and were hard to dispel, according to Patrick. He didn’t care, he and his Meg were quietly ensconced in her new, luxurious boudoir, and they were quite content to get to know each other again without any more interference.
Tess had a lot to digest – her name was now Tess Mercer, though she still liked Jenkins better. Her mom was now Meg instead of Carol, soon to be Mercer as well. There were plans afoot to sell the house in Astoria. Meg would not be returning. Then there was Kylie, ready to start a whole new life in the Caymans. Tess would quit her job as well. But she wasn’t worried about any of that, really – all she wanted was to see Angel - in her bed.
CHAPTER THREE
Tess haunted the island of Cayman Brac when she wasn’t required for maid of honor dress fittings or luncheons or whatever. She was pretending to learn how to fish, and go rock climbing, and cave exploring with Patrick’s chauffer, Diamond Scott. But in truth, of course, she was searching for the elusive Angel. No one at the party had heard of him. Stranger still, no one at the motorbike shop knew where he lived or what he did for a living. Tess began to wonder if he was some underworld criminal or a drug smuggler. Cayman Brac was known for a past rife with pirates and intrigue.
Diamond took Tess to Rebecca’s Cave, a landmark on the island where a child had been buried after dying in the 1932 hurricane. It was a sad but beautiful place, with the child’s stone coffin resting within. Tess found her eyes stinging with tears as Diamond related the oft told story of the Boddens and their baby as they tried to escape the terror of The Great Hurricane.
“Wow, I can’t imagine how horrible that must have been. We’re all so lucky, Diamond, to live in this modern world.”
“Sure we are. Not too many tourists around today. I guess the rain warned them off. Wait here a minute.”
She puzzled after him, wondered what he was up to. He was a good looking, affable guy, always ready with a smile or a joke. Anyone with a free heart would find him irresistible but of course hers was sworn to Angel, whether she saw him again in this lifetime or not.
The cave walls were closing in on her; the rain pummeling the ground outside. Tess shivered.
“Take this,” a familiar voice said.
“Angel?” She looked up into the blue-green eyes, her breathing hung fast. He looked so unreal there in the shadows of the cave, his black hair dripping wet, his jeans tight, his T shirt as clinging as a second skin, outlining his perfect chest and arms. He handed her a jacket, she enveloped her shoulders in it. “What’s going on? Do you know Diamond Scott?”
“Sure, he’s a fishing bud of mine. I’ve had him watching you for me.”
“Why can’t you watch me yourself?”
“Complicated reasons. He’s waiting to take us somewhere, if you’ll go.”
“Of course.”
He helped her out of the cave and into their rental car. Once safe and dry within, he motioned to Diamond, who winked and started the engine.
Sitting next to him finally after dreaming of it so long, she couldn’t quite grasp the reality of him. He was being pleasant, pointing out a pirate rendezvous on one side of the road and an artists’ retreat on the other. She found she liked being with him that way, though it was hard to keep her wits about her when his every glance made her twitch inside. He was purely sexual. But underneath it all there was a need of another kind. Something she couldn’t quite put a name to yet.
Diamond eased the car into a tunnel behind a flowing waterfall, came out on the other side where a tiny cottage peeked out of a mangrove forest.
“This is where you live?”
“Yeah, sometimes.”
They stepped out into the rain, Angel shielded her.
“Here you go, man!” Diamond smiled.
“Thanks, bro! I guess you can go fishing for awhile.”
“I got it! See you later, Tess!”
“Thanks, Diamond.”
“No need. He was wanting to see you as much as you was wanting to see him. I figured it was best to get you two together. Namaste!”
He waved as he drove the car into the tunnel.
Angel stared at her for a moment then opened the door.
“It isn’t what you’re used to, but it’s all mine!”
“I know I’ll love it!”
They entered. The walls and ceiling were wood planks, whitewashed and pocked with wormholes. The one big room was bare except for a table and two chairs, and a ragged cot with a sheet clumsily strewn across it. There was no kitchen, just a hutch with a few dishes, and a large steel bowl which apparently was a makeshift sink.
“I don’t understand. At the party you were wearing an expensive tuxedo and driving a convertible. Or did I imagine you there?”
“It was me. I have to be two different people sometimes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Islands have too many eyes, prying into your secrets. A man has to be careful.”
“What kind of secrets do you have?”
“See, now you’re prying.”
“You can’t blame me for being confused.”
Angel moved his head to look at her.
“No, I guess I can’t.”
She stroked his stubbly cheek, leaned up to kiss the full lips. He kissed back, eagerly but then he stopped.
“You’re so beautiful. I could take you here, in this place, but you wouldn’t want me to, I know.”
She proved him wrong by slowly stripping out of her Bermuda shorts and pink tank top, revealing a white strapless bra and matching panties.
He sighed, hungry for her, s
lid her over to let her lie down next to him on the torn mattress. His lips swathed her in hot, clinging kisses, as his hands unhooked the bra and discarded the panties. Once his tattered fisherman’s clothes were on the rough wood floor he raised up and over her, caressing every inch of her goose-bumped flesh. The air about them was cool and thick. Tess breathed it in, wanting to capture every sound and smell, so she would never forget them.
Angel worked her over gently with his mouth. She flung her head back, reared up her chest to offer him her breasts – he took them, gnawed at them, winding her up so fast she feared she couldn’t hold off.
“Slowly, please?” she whispered.
“No,” he grunted. “Next time it’ll be slow.”
He waited just long enough to make sure she was bursting then he lunged into her and pounded at her so hard she wondered if the cot would break under the strain. But she clung at him, urged him to keep going, not willing to see it end.
Spent, they rested on the mattress, their breathing flowing in quick, hard waves.
“If it could be like this, forever, I’d be the happiest man on Earth!”
“It could be, Angel; if you trust me to love you enough.”
“I can’t bring you into my troubles, Tess. You don’t know what could happen!”
“What kind of troubles?”
“I can’t say.”
“But you’re a beach bum, aren’t you? You fish, you ride bikes. Or are you a drug smuggler?”
He laughed. “No, not by a long shot, though that kind of life might have been preferable to what I am.”
“So what exactly are you?”
“I’m an investigator. I was hired to watch Patrick Mercer.”
“Why?”
“He’s been implicated in a nasty murder, Tess.”
She sat up abruptly.
“No, I don’t believe it! He’s like a dream father, taking me in unconditionally. And he adores my mom. You must be mistaken.”