by L. L. James
Carm stepped out of the bathroom and found the bedroom empty. She’d hung her wet dress and underwear over the shower rod next to his shirt and padded into the room in Marek’s borrowed clothes.
He had given her a huge t-shirt of pale gray that hung to the middle of her thighs and a pair of blue and white striped boxer shorts. Given that she wasn’t a tiny woman, what with standing five-ten and all, she’d still had to roll the waistband of the boxers down twice. He was a mighty big man.
Memory of Marek’s flashing incident popped into her head and Carm felt her face heat. Yeah, he was a big man all right.
Wondering where he’d gone off to, Carm exited the room and headed down the hall. She passed an open door on her left and found her suitcase open on the floor in another room. Her clothing was missing and Carm assumed Marek had hung them out to dry.
She hesitated at the doorway, curious to see how that room was decorated. He’d chosen a shade of butter yellow for the walls and a bedcover in bold, lively stripes. He’d decided to put her up in a room of vivid colors and energy.
Hm, wonder if that means anything? Oh, probably not. It’s probably just the first available room he came to. Stop overanalyzing everything, girl.
It was her overactive imagination again that had her thinking that he’d put her that room as some sort of symbolism, like that’s how he saw her. Alive and vibrant. Ridiculous, illogical thoughts.
Carm scolded herself and continued walking down the hall. For goodness’ sake, a few days ago she’d practically hated the man. Granted, it had turned out to be completely misplaced dislike and Marek wasn’t the cold, heartless businessman she’d first thought him. But he sure wasn’t a saint, either.
Truth be told, she didn’t really know who he was. He was so tight lipped about his past and personal history that she’d barely learned enough facts about him to string a sentence together. Marek Stokes was an enigma.
The way he’d been appalled by the horrible treatment of Kate warmed her heart. It proved he was a compassionate man. It also proved that he wasn’t a man driven by personal bias. Once she’d laid the facts out for him and he’d gone over them with a fine tooth comb he’d made the decision fairly. Ok, maybe a little bias since he’d been especially angered by the fact that Kate was pregnant and the father was such a filthy pig.
Carm wondered if that had hit a nerve for Marek, his mother raising him alone and all. But, if he’d felt compelled to support and defend Kate because of it, well, who was she to object? She’d gained what she’d come down here to gain, and more.
Smiling into the silence, she traced a finger over a tall, fluid statue of a giraffe at the stair landing and started down. In fact, she’d saved the day—or the company, depending on how one wanted to look at it. Carm had been a veritable Superwoman.
All right, so maybe she was feeling rather proud of her self at the moment. She, Carmen Hogue, first grade teacher extraordinaire, had handled a sticky business situation and had come out the victor. With a few added perks, as well. She still couldn’t believe that Marek was going to offer Kate’s little shop an exclusive on his new coffee. Truth of the matter was that he could get a ton more money if he didn’t. She thought it was a rather telling sign of his true character.
Now, if she could only fix her own situation as quickly and efficiently. Her life was one big, screwed up jumble. Carm mentally ticked items off her fingers in a list. First, she’d been drugged and drowned in booze and married to a total stranger. Then she’d been freaked out on Mt. Liamuiga over some lost hiker. Next, she’d realized that the stranger she’d married just might hold the key to everything she wanted to experience, which added a complicated little twist to the whole mess. And finally, her hotel room had been destroyed and she’d been given a death threat note in some random act of violence, with her underwear and passport stolen, leaving her stranded on Tortola with no immediate way off. Thank God Kate wasn’t due for another two months. That would have really rounded out the clusterfuck she was in.
Carm stopped on the base of the stairs, her hand still on the cool banister. A realization hit her. She’d been mighty busy these last few days.
Commotion came from the direction of the kitchen, so she headed in the direction and came to a halt when she reached to doorway. Marek stood at the long granite counter, food scattered across the glossy service, wrist deep in preparing dinner. She added this bit of information to her tiny list of facts about him. She’d never even have guessed that he cooked.
And he looked great doing it. While she’d been in the shower he’d changed into clean clothes and now wore a thin, worn, snug white t-shirt that accentuated his flawless complexion and rippling muscles. He’d pulled on a pair of grey cotton shorts that skimmed his steely thighs and rested just above his knees.
Carm felt her mouth water and knew it wasn’t from the chicken she smelled baking in the oven. The man was lethal. Definitely the crème-de-la-crème. And exactly what she wanted. She’d known that somewhere in a sea filled with average men that if she was patient and waded through them long enough that she’d finally come across the best of the best.
And he was currently standing barefoot before her, in the kitchen making salads.
Now all Marek had to do was win her heart to claim his prize. His selfless act of giving and thoughtfulness toward her sister was definitely a good start.
Placing a foot on the cool tile, Carm stepped into the large kitchen and inquired, “Do you believe in fate, Marek?”
Glancing over his shoulder, he gave a short nod and turned his attention back to slicing tomatoes. “Sure I do, cheri. A person can’t grow up on this island and not believe in it. Why do you ask?”
“Curiosity, that’s all.” She sauntered over and leaned her elbows on the counter. She was thoroughly enjoying the sight of a sexy, masculine man in the kitchen. Marek was full of surprises.
“I need to call Kate, if you don’t mind. Can I use your office?”
Again he nodded and agreed, “Go right ahead, sugar. You know the way.”
Carm smiled and turned to leave. As she reached the doorway, Marek called, “Hey, do you like onion in your salad?”
She grimaced and answered, “Not if I can help it. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Carm heard him tell her to take her time as she made her way back down the hall toward the office. The dolphin sculpture caught her eye as she passed the living room. Now that she’d met his mother she could plainly see how he’d been able to create something like that. Maria’s work was exquisite, exuding a creative flair that could only come from someone with her flamboyant nature. Marek wasn’t flamboyant by any means, but he had her creative streak.
Perfect example: his culinary arts skills. She’d seen the competent way he’d wielded that knife.
Carm reached the office and walked around to the big leather chair behind the desk and sat. It was the most comfortable office chair she’d ever been in. The thing practically swallowed her as it cradled her with buttery softness.
Struggling mildly to an upright position, Carm snorted with amusement and reached for the phone. Dialing Kate’s number, she leaned back and sighed. Now she was going to have to lie. Clearing her throat, she took a deep breath. At the sound of the click on the other end and the quiet, “Hello?” Carm plastered a fake smile on her face.
It was showtime.
It took almost an hour to get off the phone with Kate. Alternating between sobs of happiness after Carm had told her the good news about her business, and tears of worry over Carm’s missing passport, Kate had been a hormonal mess. She had barely been able to get a word in edgewise.
It had taken some finagling and white lies, but she had managed to convince Kate there was nothing to worry about and that she’d be home in no time. It had taken some doing, but her sister was sufficiently duped into thinking everything was dandy for Carm. She would have felt guilty for lying to Kate if it wasn’t for her own good. She was in such a precarious position with the baby th
at Carm refused to add more stress to her in fear it might lead to premature labor.
Saying her goodbyes, she hung up the phone and sighed. A sting in her eye caught her off guard. Batting the tears away, Carm inhaled deep and spun the chair to face the window.
She missed her sister. Kate had been her only family for years now and was also her best friend. She felt terrible for being down on some beautiful tropical island while her sister was miserable and confined to bed. But there wasn’t a thing she could do about it now. Kate wouldn’t want her wasting her time fretting and feeling obligation over her, she knew that. Kate had said as much.
She took solace in the fact that though Kate might look fragile at the moment and cry at the drop of a hat, she was a strong woman. She’d be just fine without Carm for a few more days. Besides, Kate said the neonatal specialist had upped her dosage of Trebutaline and things were looking good. The baby’s heart rate was perfect and the little one seemed to be doing great.
Telling herself that everything was fine, Carm pushed out of the chair and went back down the hall to the kitchen. The tantalizing aroma of Caribbean spices and baked chicken tickled her nose as she walked back into the room. Marek was nowhere in sight but the double doors leading to the patio were open.
She’d noticed the rain had stopped when she’d looked out the window in the office and assumed he’d stepped outside for some fresh air. Deciding to follow his lead, Carm stepped outside and inhaled the sweet scent of wet grass.
She gazed around the vast lawn until she came to a small gazebo. Her heart simply stopped beating, then lurched painfully to life again at the sight before her.
Marek stood arranging freshly cut flowers in a purple vase at the table beneath the hot pink bougainvillea-covered structure. He’d draped a crisp white linen cloth over the table and arranged a table setting of brightly patterned dinnerware for two on it. On either side of the fluted vase of flowers sat glass and bronze hurricane lamps. Milky white candles were already lit and flickered from the faint breeze. A bottle of wine was chilling in a silver bucket of ice on a stand next to the table.
It was, without a doubt, the most romantic thing any man had ever done for her.
She felt the telltale signs of tears and blinked rapidly to hold them back as she began walking across the damp grass to the gazebo. Moved by his gesture of grand romance, Carm’s heart flipped in her chest as she gazed at the only man who’d ever picked flowers for her.
Marek turned just as she reached the shallow steps leading to the gazebo and smiled cockily. Sweeping his hand over the display he asked, “What do you think, sugar? Do you approve?”
Placing her hand on the white rail, Carm took the few steps to the landing. Without stopping, she walked over to Marek and placed a soft, warm kiss on his lips. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”
Clearly taken aback by the sincerity in her voice, he cleared his throat and tugged sheepishly at his ear. He cast his gaze to the floor. “Oui, it is beautiful. It’s a stunning evening on my island so I thought we should enjoy our meal out here.”
He’s embarrassed, how adorable.
It was the first time Carm had ever seen Marek flustered. To alleviate his discomfort and let him off the hook—for now—Carm turned the topic away from his romantic streak. “Thanks for the clothes. I don’t know if mine will ever get dry it rained so much.” She walked to the table and fingered a glass. “I just spoke to Kate and she’s ecstatic and thankful that you’ve decided to allow her small business in on your new deal. Most coffee wholesalers only want to deal with chain stores; small independent houses aren’t worth the fuss. Kate knows Café Venetia is small time and she’s grateful to you.”
Marek shook his head and reached for the white wine and popped the cork. Then he sat it on the table to breathe. “To be honest, cheri, if it wasn’t for Mark Benson trying to swindle me, I would have pulled my support. But I believe in business ethics. It had nothing to do with your sister’s situation, though I feel for her. Her café is inconsequential. She must have done some fancy footwork to get my old man to agree to the contract in the first place. He didn’t give other small-profit cafes the time of day.”
Carm smiled and laughed over that. “Kate can be amazingly convincing when the need calls for it. It’s a talent of hers.”
Marek began pouring the chardonnay in glasses and lifted a dark brow. “Sounds like you admire that particular talent in your sister.”
Carm took the offered glass, sipped, and nodded her approval. “Mmm, this is delicious. I love white wine.”
“I thought you might.”
“You have an almost eerie way of reading people, you know that?” She asked, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
She watched him flash a delighted grin that brought out the tiniest hint of dimple creases in his cheeks. The clean white of his shirt accentuated his tan and made his clear green eyes sparkle. When he looked at her from under the blanket of black lashes, his eyes nearly took her breath away. Never in her life had she seen eyes of such translucent green.
And he had those eyes turned on her now. Pure mischief sparkled in them, raising her suspicion even higher. Feeling the back of her neck start to tingle, Carm retreated a step and said, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m impressed that you picked up on that particular talent of mine. You’re rather astute yourself. Want to play a game to see just how good I am?”
Leary of his game but curious at the same time, she stalled instead of answering, “Don’t you need to get the food?”
Marek chuckled. “That I do. Wait here and think about some questions you’re dying to ask me. When I return we’ll play a little question and answer game.”
“But don’t you need my help with the food? I can bring out the salad and whatnot.”
Pointing behind her, Marek replied, “Already taken care of. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Carm looked in the direction he’d indicated and muttered as he strode away, “Well, hell. The man thinks of everything, doesn’t he?”
A small wicker-and-wood serving cart had been placed in a corner of the gazebo and covered dishes sat on top. She hadn’t noticed it before because it was hiding behind a statue covered in a thick carpet of deep green ivy.
Taking a sip of her chilled wine, Carm watched Marek emerge with the covered platter of chicken. It was a funny thing how her breath hitched as she watched him walk over the grass toward her. Unsure what to make of that, she pushed the thought away and took another sip.
Marek climbed the white painted steps and grinned. “Dinner is ready, cupcake. Have a seat and I’ll serve you up.”
Carm opened her mouth to protest, but Marek cut her off, “Sit. I’m running this show. I hope you like my cooking.”
Like it? The chicken smelled absolutely scrumptious. Carm’s stomach growled loud and long, gaining a laugh from him. She figured she could either die of embarrassment right then or play it off. She chose to play it off. “Does that answer your question? Does this mean it’s my turn to ask a question then?”
“Wait a minute, sugar. That wasn’t a question.” Marek took the lids off the food and began filling their plates. “I haven’t begun to ask my real questions, Carmen. But, if you have one that’s just burning a hole in your head, ask away.”
Raking her eyes greedily over the food he set before her, her stomach let out another angry growl. He’d made salad, super moist-looking corn bread, plantain and sweet potato mash, and had spooned a helping of mango salsa over the juicy chicken.
Highly impressed—and flattered—that he’d gone through the trouble of making such a meal for her, Carm picked up her fork and took a bite of the mash. She just about fell out of her chair. It was the most exotic, flavorful mash she’d ever eaten. Closing her eyes to better savor the mix of spice and sweetness, she moaned out loud.
“I can take that as a compliment, oui?”
“Oui, definitely oui. You are an amazing chef.”
She
opened her eyes to find him smiling warmly at her. With his fork in his hand he pointed to her chicken. “You haven’t tried that yet, cheri. That’s where my skill really shines. The salsa’s my own secret recipe.”
“Really?”
Marek nodded. “Try it. You’ll like it.”
He was right. Carm took a bite of the chicken and salsa and entered straight into heaven. The exotic, intense blend of flavors was almost overwhelming. Damn, but the man could cook.
After she swallowed, she asked, “Where did you learn to cook like this? This is amazing. I’m lucky if I can make a decent meat loaf.”
Shrugging his broad shoulders, he answered, “Nowhere really. My mother taught me mostly. And when I was a kid, I had a job washing dishes at one of the ritzy island resorts. I picked up a few things from the chefs there.”
Latching onto that bit of information, Carm probed around another bite of food, “So you had a job at a resort. Bet that was fun. You were able to see all sorts of people.”
Marek snorted into his wine glass and shook his head, “You mean lots of rich people, sugar. Yeah, I saw them, just long enough to pick their pockets clean.”
Carm tilted her head at that revelation and considered. Somehow she wasn’t all that surprised. “So you were a pick pocket. Interesting. Definitely explains things.”
Ah, she’d intrigued him with that remark. Marek eyed her and asked, curiosity evident in his gaze, “What’s it explain, sugar?”
Carm leveled her eyes on him and picked up her wine glass. Before she took a drink, she answered, “It explains why you’ve got such great hands, sugar.”
Thirteen
Great hands. He’d show her great hands. Carmen hadn’t seen anything yet. But he’d gladly show her what his hands could do if she gave the slightest hint of interest.