After Him: An Enemies-To-Lovers Romance (Virgin Island Series Book 1)

by L. L. James

  “I remember.” Marek smirked. “The first time I saw you, your face was flaming red from sunburn, your blond hair was way too long, and you looked like some refugee from Robinson Crusoe. I knew you were perfect for her.”

  Steven grinned into his tea. “Damn right. She’s the love of my life, my boy.”

  Marek felt an uncomfortable knot form in his chest at those words and turned to look around the kitchen. The bright white cabinets and cobalt blue tile countertops glistened. Maria had always been a stickler for cleanliness. The warm butter yellow walls were loaded down with shelves full of his mother’s pottery and a large china hutch stood in the corner displaying a beautiful collection of handmade glazed dinnerware.

  Just when he couldn’t take it anymore and was about to march downstairs and demand to see Carm, he heard a commotion in the hallway. Standing up so fast he rattled the table, Marek strode into the living room and stopped.

  Carm stood between his mother and his sister in a deep, bright blue sarong with her hair loose about her shoulders. The knot in his chest twisted tighter and suddenly he found it quite hard to breath. He opened his mouth to say something and closed it with a snap when nothing came out.

  She left him speechless.

  His mother had given Carm some of her handmade jewelry and she wore a large, beaded necklace of brilliant shades of blues and pinks around her throat and a jangle of painted wood bracelets at her wrists. The sarong tied at one shoulder, leaving the other exposed. It revealed her creamy satin skin and trailed down to flirt with her bare ankles.

  She was a goddess.

  She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. Folding her into his embrace, Marek held tight and buried his head in her hair. Inhaling the sweet scent, he murmured to her in French and kissed the top of her head.

  He closed his eyes and rested his head on top of hers. He felt her tremors as he held her close and felt rage like he’d never known pour into him. He’d kill the bastards that dared to frighten his cheri.

  Pulling back reluctantly, Marek placed his large palms on each side of her face and looked deep in her beautiful blue eyes. Carmen was a trooper. He knew by her shaking that she’d been terrified, but her eyes remained clear and bright, not a tear in sight. That’s my girl.

  “Are you all right?” When she nodded, he demanded, “I want you to tell me everything. Do not skip any details, do you understand?”

  Carm slipped her hands up his arms and placed her slender palms on top of his. “Yes, Marek. I’ll tell you everything. I doubt very much that it’s something I’ll soon forget anyway.”

  His mother cleared her throat and he lifted his eyes from Carm’s face. A look of thoughtful introspection graced Maria’s face, but she only gestured toward the couches and suggested, “Why don’t you sit down?”

  Marek agreed and lead Carm across the cabbage rose rug to the cream high backed couch. Settling her, Marek turned when he heard an impatient huff. His sister Sophia stood behind him bouncing from one foot to the other.

  “Hiya, squirt. Miss me?” He asked.

  At that invitation his tornado of a sister launched into his arms in a swirl of lavender sundress and golden brown curls. He spun her around and laughed when she placed a big, smacking kiss on his lips.

  Staring at him with large, round eyes the same shade as his own, Sophia stated, “Mama and me got to pick out some clothes for Carmen at the store while she stayed here with Papa. Isn’t that a pretty dress? It’s blue.” She nodded matter-of-fact. “Your favorite color. She lost all her clothes, you know. The bad men ripped them all to pieces.”

  Marek set his little sister gently on the ground. He could picture Carm’s clothing torn and littered all over her room and it made him see red. Not wanting to frighten his precious baby sister, he flashed her a manufactured grin and ruffled her hair. “You did great, my petit singe. Now, I need to talk to Carmen. Why don’t you go help Mama in the kitchen?”

  Sophia nodded and sent her curls bouncing. Peeking around him, she smiled and waved to Carm, then spun around on her bare feet and ran to the kitchen. “Mama! Marek says I get to help you. I want to pour the lemonade!”

  He watched her go with a soft smile. That little spitfire had been such an unexpected blessing to their family.

  Turning back to Carm, Marek sat down across from her and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. With complete seriousness, he ordered, “Start at the beginning, cheri. My mother will keep Sophia busy so she won’t hear anything.”

  He watched her closely and saw her intake of breath. Obviously bracing herself, she proceeded to tell him the facts in precise order and detail. He admired the way she stayed collected during the recap, her voice strong and unwavering. As she finished she added, “I want to apologize for calling you when I was so upset. I should have waited until I’d calmed down some instead of causing you undue worry. I’m fine now, and I’m convinced that whoever did this is just playing a malicious prank on me.”

  Marek knew better but kept that knowledge to himself. Now was not the time to frighten her more, not when she’d barely made it through such an ordeal. Letting it rest for now, he focused instead on the bit about the note and asked, “Do you still have the paper?”

  Steven spoke up for the first time since Carm had started talking. “She gave it to me for safekeeping. Here it is.” Leaning forward in the rattan chair, he passed the small piece of paper to Marek.

  He made quick work of reading the note, his anger rising to a dangerous level. Oh yes, the bastards would pay.

  Placing the note in his pocket, Marek kept his eyes devoid of emotion and said calmly to Carm, “You said they took your passport, correct? And your underwear?”

  She grimaced, “They did. The sick perverts stole all my lingerie. It was my one extravagance on my salary, my one big splurge and they took it. Assholes. And just how am I supposed to get home without my passport? I didn’t bring any other proof of citizenship.”

  Marek raked a hand through his hair and leveled a stare on her. “You’re not going home, sugar. You’re moving in with me.”

  Carm shook her head and spluttered, “C-can you repeat that? I don’t think I heard you right. I thought I just heard you say I’m moving in with you, but that can’t be.” She finished on a shaky laugh.

  Marek gave her a tight smile and stood up. “You heard right the first time. You’re going home with me. Now.”

  Leaping to her feet, Carm took a step toward him and poked him solidly in the chest. “Excuse me, I appreciate your help and all, but I have to go home, Marek. My sister could go into labor any day and needs me to be there. Can’t you pull some strings or something down at the embassy so that I can catch a flight out of here? I’m sure that what happened today was a random act of mischief, really.”

  When he slowly shook his head, Carm threw up her arms in exasperation. Men! Before she could comment on his arrogant, presumptuous behavior, Steven spoke up. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but Marek does have a point.”

  Of course he does. You men all think alike and have to band together, after all.

  With a look of outrage on her face, Carm asked, “Really? What point would that be?”

  Steven rubbed a hand thoughtfully over his beard and answered, “Well, my dear, until we are absolutely certain that this was in fact an isolated event, it would be wise for you to stay somewhere safe and protected. Marek won’t let anything happen to you. After all the facts are figured out and your safety is no longer suspect we’ll gladly help you get home.”

  Carm withheld a nasty remark by sheer will and took a deep breath. It appeared she was out numbered. Glancing back to Marek she conceded, “Fine, but I’m going to call Kate when we get to your place and you’re going to do everything you can to get me out of this country and back home. Plus, you still have that other issue to straighten out.”

  Maria asked from the doorway to the kitchen, “What other issue?”

  Both of them turned to look at Maria at t
he same time. Carm’s mind raced frantically for an excuse but Marek beat her to it. “Her sister owns a coffee house in the states and we’ve been discussing doing business.”

  Maria squinted her eyes in speculation, but replied easily, “How fortunate you two were able to meet then, isn’t it?” She beamed at them, “Lemonade anyone?”

  Marek grabbed hold of Carm’s hand and pulled her toward the front door. “Merci, but no. Some heavy clouds were moving in overhead when I pulled up and I want to get home before the rain begins.” He directed a question to Carm, “Do you have everything together downstairs? I’ll replace anything else you need, but I want to get on the road.”

  Carm frowned over his high-handed manner. “I don’t really have anything. Most of it was destroyed. What I do have is in a suitcase downstairs that your mother was gracious enough to let me borrow. If you wait a moment I’ll go and get it.”

  “No need, Steven will get it, won’t you Steven?” At the mention of his name, Steven shoved out of the stair and stood up. Pushing his glasses back up his nose, he grinned. “Sure thing. I’ll meet you outside with it in a jiffy.”

  Marek slid his hand down to the small of Carm’s back and nudged her out the door. With his mother and sister following they made their way down the steps to his jeep.

  Looking up at the ominous sky, Carm frowned with worry. “You do have the top for this thing, don’t you, Marek?”

  He tossed her a wink and smirked, “I’ll drive really fast, sugar. Don’t you worry, I’ll have you inside before the first raindrop falls.”

  Looking like she didn’t believe him, Carm rolled her eyes and turned to his mother. Marek grinned at her behavior. Admiration for her grew as he watched her thank his mother and lean down to give his sister a kiss on the cheek. It was impossible to tell that just a few hours before she’d faced the scare of her life. Damn, the woman had courage.

  Carm climbed in the jeep and Marek turned to say his goodbyes. Steven appeared then with the black suitcase and tossed it in the back seat. He walked over to Sophia and scooped her up in his arms, making her break into a fit of giggles. Clapping him on the shoulder with a hand, Steven nodded and turned toward the house.

  Left alone with his mother, Marek ducked his head and peaked at her through lowered lashes. As her stern look melted into laughter, he grinned. He’d used that look on her many times over the years to soften her up after he’d done something wrong. And it still worked.

  Slapping him on the arm, Maria declared with mock seriousness, “Don’t think that look’s going to work on me. I’m wise to your charms.”

  Marek flinched at her playful swats and chuckled. Tugging on an ear with his fingers, he teased, “It always works on you. You’re so gullible. That’s one of the things I love so much about you.”

  Maria glared at him and snorted. Giving up, she conceded, “You’re right, my boy. Now give me a hug.” When Marek wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug and lifted her off the ground, she squealed in French, “Put me down, you big ox!”

  Marek settled her back on her feet and was about to pull away when she clamped onto his shirt and whispered in his ear, continuing in French, “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Carmen, but I’ll let that rest for now. But not too long. I’m going to want an explanation about why you are both wearing matching rings on your left hands and your behavior toward her in the living room. But I won’t push. For now.” Maria pulled out of his embrace and brushed her hands down his cheeks. “I love you, son. Be careful and watch your back. Now, get out of here and take her home before it rains.”

  Marek leaned down and kissed his mother on the cheek and whispered back in French, “I love you too, Mama. And I’ll be careful. Nobody is going to hurt her, I promise. Give my love to Sophia and Steve.”

  Turning, he strode to the waiting jeep and climbed in. He looked at Carm and shot her a cocky, wicked grin. “Are you buckled up, sweetheart? You’d better hold on tight because you’re in for the ride of your life.”

  Twelve

  Marek hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her she was in for the ride of her life. Carm’s legs were still shaking as she followed him up the stairs to the second floor of his house. Fast as he’d been—and he’d scared ten years off her life—he hadn’t been fast enough. The clouds broke open and rain started pouring down just as they’d reached the hidden turn onto his private drive. By the time they’d reached the circular driveway and jumped out they’d been soaked through.

  Carm was still wringing water out of her dress as Marek led her down the hallway to his room. He didn’t seem a bit fazed by the fact that he was dripping water like a half drowned dog along his beautiful—no doubt highly expensive—rug. In fact, the perverse man seemed to take great joy in the sound of his leather shoes squishing and plopping with each step he took. His laughter bounced off the walls and echoed down the long corridor.

  Reaching a door at the end of the hallway, Marek pushed it open and stepped over the threshold. Beckoning her to follow, he disappeared inside, leaving her wringing her hair out in the hall. On a sigh, she stepped to the door and peeked around the corner.

  It only took her a second to realize it was Marek’s bedroom. Torn between avid curiosity and a healthy sense of self-preservation, Carm stared into the large, open room. Part of her just knew that if she stepped one foot into his private domain he’d been on her like a pack of wild dogs. But the other part, the big, idiotic part of her brain that lacked all good sense propelled her feet forward through the door before she had a chance to protest.

  It was definitely a man’s room. Sturdy, attractive dark stained furniture was set around the room, the set consisting of a large, low bureau with a mirror gracing the top, an upright chest of drawers and a large armoire. Matching side tables perched on either side of the huge bed. The headboard and footboard were stained in the same matching mahogany with sea grass and bamboo woven through the body. In fact, all the furniture had bamboo and sea grass woven through them.

  The bed itself was a massive thing, taking up a good portion of the left wall of the room. A fluffy, light tan comforter was perfectly straightened over the bed and two large pillows in crisp white leaned against the headboard. A lone pillow in a brilliant collage of stripes and paisleys perched in between them, drawing her eye.

  Carm was mildly surprised by Marek’s choice of color scheme, believing most men only thought in primary colors. Like mostly red and blue. But he’d chosen to paint his wall in a soothing, refreshing pale green and paired that with clean white linen window curtains, rolling bamboo shades and a camel colored jute rug over the wood floor. And he’d added the same bamboo shades over the glass in the set of double doors that lead onto the verandah.

  Again, she found large plants displayed around the room and grinned. The pots again added that splash of color to the calming room. It was a thrill to discover a man who loved foliage as much as she did. Eyeing a gorgeous, tall bamboo plant in the corner, Carm walked over to it and reached a hand out to touch the glossy leaves. She’d always wanted one. A gigantic, healthy one just like this one. She tilted her head to look up to the top of the lush plant. The ceiling in the room was at least ten feet tall and the bamboo was practically brushing against it.

  “I see you’ve discovered my favorite plant. Isn’t it a beauty?”

  Carm dropped her hand and spun around. Marek strode toward her from the adjoining bathroom, a towel outstretched toward her in one hand and the other held a thick cotton towel to his head, drying his hair. He’d discarded his soaked shirt and shoes while he’d disappeared to the bathroom and was currently walking toward her in all his bare-chested glory. That damned tattoo was like a magnetic, drawing her eyes down below his navel to the sexy hard planes of his lower abdomen. Someone really ought to outlaw dolphin tattoos.

  Marek chuckled and handed her the towel. He had to grab her hand and open her palm to place the thing in it as she’d apparently lost all motor function at the sight of his ama
zing body. Muttering something under his breath, he breezed by her and headed toward the chest of drawers.

  Carm eyed him as he rifled through the drawers and came up with two sets of clothes. He tossed them on the bed and said to her, “Time for you to get out of your clothes, cupcake. You’re soaked through. The clothes in the suitcase received the same fate I’m afraid and will need time to dry out. In the meantime, you can wear some of my things.”

  He was right. She was beginning to feel like a drowned rat in her clothes. But what she really wanted was a hot shower first. “Do you mind if I use your shower? I’m a little chilled even though the rain was warm.”

  Marek waved her on and continued to peruse his selection. Pulling out a white t-shirt, he turned with a grin. “Go right ahead, sugar. I’ll meet you there in a minute.”

  Glaring at him, Carm grabbed the clothes off the bed and spun toward the bathroom. “Ha, ha. Very funny.”

  She heard his low chuckle and continued to the bathroom. She didn’t believe his empty boast at all. He’d never come in uninvited, but Carm shut the door and turned the lock just in case.

  Marek grinned at the sound of the lock clicking. The woman was so easy to goad. She made it impossible to resist.

  Dropping his pants and underwear in a wet heap on the floor, Marek quickly dried off and changed. He wanted to take advantage of Carm’s preoccupation to make a few phone calls. It didn’t thrill him to use his old contacts, but he felt there was no choice. Nobody threatened his Carmen.

  With one last glance toward the locked door, he grinned as he shook his head. Somehow, against all his better judgement and determination, she was beginning to matter to him. Merde. As if he needed that added complication in his life right now.

  Running his long fingers through his wet hair, he shook off the unwelcome feeling and stalked out the door. He had phone calls to make. Marek scowled and swore under his breath. He found it odd—and damned unsettling—to realize the call to his lawyer ranked dead last on the list.