by L. L. James
“So, what Landon was saying is that the authorities on St. Kitts want the two of you to do some recon work for them in his helicopter? Is that right? Fly around the island, take some photos and whatnot?”
“Correct. Since Landon’s chopper is unmarked the assholes doing this won’t be suspicious.” Marek stated with his back still to her. “Unmarked flyovers are common and not cause for concern, generally. Lots of tourist companies around here.”
But what about here? On your island? What are the authorities going to do about here?
“I understand that they would like you to get as much information as possible for them, but what about the jerks here?” Carm asked. “They’re stealing and vandalizing everything.”
She heard him sigh as he turned to face her. His eyes held a serious note she hadn’t really seen before. As he walked over to the couch and sat down facing her, Marek’s face betrayed little emotion. Something odd had come over him tonight and it still vibrated around him, alive and strong. It had her feeling both intrigued and cautious.
“Don’t worry yourself over this, Carm. I’ve seen this sort of thing time and again, and it will be taken care of shortly.”
Petting Sunny to disguise her budding agitation, Carm replied, “But you didn’t even go to the police tonight. How can anything be resolved if you don’t go to the cops?”
A large, tanned hand came to rest on the back of the sofa as Marek stretched and settled into the plush cushions next to her. If he felt irritation—or any emotion for that matter—he hid it well. Heavy-lidded green eyes remained focused on her, and a shadow beard was beginning to darken his strong jaw. Disheveled, relaxed, and sexy as all get out was how he appeared to Carm. And it was distracting her from her thoughts.
At length he answered, “I’ll go down to the station first thing in the morning, cheri. Like I said, don’t worry about this. Though the note they sent you was over the top and had me concerned at first, there’s nothing going on here more than scare tactics. No doubt they’re harassing us here to keep us off St. Kitts so they can finish their harvesting. They’re bullying us, love, nothing more.”
Carm tipped her head to the side and studied him. “You sound awfully sure of that. Has this sort of thing happened to you before?”
Sunny rolled on her lap, let out a protest at being disturbed, and reached out an orange-striped paw. Yawning and stretching, the cat wiggled and settled again in a tidy ball with a soft meow. Carm stroked her soft, dense fur and waited for Marek to respond.
Must have hit a nerve. Look at how he’s contemplating what to say. Probably wondering how much he can tell me without freaking me out.
“I’ve told you about my past, Carmen. You know I did things, and was in an environment that was less than wholesome. Let’s just say that I’ve seen this happen to people on more than one occasion.” He finished, his tone brooking no questions.
A thought occurred to her. “Were you ever involved in vandalizing and thieving? I saw that wince, Marek Stokes. You were, weren’t you?” Carm demanded as she sat up straighter, dislodging a protesting Sunny.
Marek scrubbed a hand over his face and pressed two fingers over the bridge of his nose. He sighed and dropped his hand, looked her straight in the eye. “Yes, I was. It was a long time ago. I’ve done things I’m not proud of, all right? I was a stupid, troubled kid. Let’s leave it at that.”
Which lead her to another thought. “Why were you so troubled, Marek? What happened to make the young boy I saw in those pictures turn to such a lifestyle?”
Oh, I’ve definitely struck a nerve. Look how tense he is now.
Before he could shrug her off and stand up, Carm reached out a hand with a pleading look in her eyes, “Please. I want to understand. I need to know what it was like for you.”
Sparks lit in his pale green eyes and he scoffed, “Why, cheri? So you can dissect my every motive? Rationalize it away? Maybe if my mother did something horrible then it would explain my behavior. Oui? Is that it?”
At his defensiveness, Carm knew she was on to something. And like a hound dog hot on a scent she kept at him. “Marek, please. Is it because of your father? You’ve never mentioned anything about him. Did he do something?”
With a vicious curse, he was off the couch and stalking out of the room. Without saying a word, he’d answered her question. Just by his sudden angry response. Though her heart beat a rapid tattoo in her chest, Carm kept her voice calm and cool as she called after him, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed at you.”
He stopped and spun on his heels, facing her, and demanded, “You want to know what it was like for me? I’ll tell you. I grew up the bastard son of a British billionaire, Carmen. You’d think that would count for something, oui?” Marek began walking back and stopped directly in front of her, forcing her to tip her head back. “It didn’t. My mother was left alone at seventeen to raise me, only her skill with pottery and jewelry the means to provide for us. And it didn’t provide much, cheri. While my father was living the life of luxury in a mansion up on the Tortola’s mountain ridge, my mother and I were scraping by in a one room shack at its feet.”
“I’m sorry, Marek.” Carm whispered, entranced by the sudden fire in his eyes.
He began pacing. Long angry strides propelled him across the floor and back. “There were many times that my mother went hungry just so I could eat. Often there wasn’t enough food for us both. And there was never help from the man whose child she had birthed.”
Carm’s heart broke for him as pain crept into his voice, mixing with the anger. She couldn’t imagine how it must have been for him. Her father had both loved her and protected her.
She was about to open her mouth to speak when Marek said, “You have no idea what that man did to my mother. She was so young and innocent and she’d loved him with everything she had. She gave him her very soul. And he spit on it like it was nothing. Loving him had very nearly destroyed her, cheri.”
Shit. Warning bells started ringing a symphony in Carm’s head as she watched Marek stride across the room, his face contorted in agony and rage. Setting Sunny on the couch, she stood and asked, “Is that why you don’t want to love me? You think loving me will destroy you? That I’ll take everything you have to offer and throw it in your face?” She took a breath, waited a heartbeat before saying, “That’s offensive and insulting.”
Eyes flashed liquid green as Marek swung past her. “Sorry, cheri. It’s the truth.”
Anger began a slow burn in Carm’s gut at his bitter words. She was not going to allow him to compare what they had with what happened to his parents. “It is most definitely not the truth, Marek. I’m sorry for you that you believe such crap. Just look at your mother now and you’d know that what you speak of is ridiculous. She’s very happy with Steven, you know that.” She stared levelly at Marek as he skulked by. “And I’ll have you know, my parents married when they were both eighteen and were happily married for twenty-five years. It all comes down to character. And your father was sorely lacking in it.”
The room stilled as Marek came to a stop in front of her, his size and anger almost enough to overwhelm her. An ugly smile slashed across his face but didn’t reach his eyes. “Exactly, cheri. Now you’re catching on.”
Oh, she didn’t like the sound of that. Foreboding stole over her as she stared at the awful grin on his face and the wild look in his eye. Something was very, very wrong.
Squinting her eyes in speculation, Carm probed, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
With an ill-tempered shrug, he began pacing again. “Depends on what you’re thinking. Want to ask twenty questions?”
Not especially. “Another time, Marek.”
“Too bad. I’ve got some great answers.”
I’ll bet you do. Ignoring him, Carm continued, “It sounds like you’re saying that you are like your father. That’s what I’m thinking.”
This time only one of his muscular shoulders lifted in a surly shrug. �
��It’s in the genes. Blood’s blood. Can’t change it, can’t really even fight it.”
Suddenly everything became clear to Carm. The fuzzy focus disappeared and her world became razor sharp with clarity.
Marek wasn’t afraid to fall in love for himself. He was afraid for whomever he fell in love with. He was terrified that somewhere down the road he would end up doing the same exact thing his father had. That he’d take someone’s love and devotion—and turn away from her. Leave her alone and broken.
Carm didn’t know whether to hug him and comfort him or kick him really, really hard in the shins. Men sometimes could be so damned dense in their heroics. No doubt Marek thought to save her soul from destruction or some damn thing. Foolish man. Everyone ran the risk of a broken heart. Everyone. No one was immune.
Carm folded her arms over her full cleavage and demanded, “So you think hiding from love is the only way to make sure you never hurt someone. The only way that you’ll avoid ever being like your father.”
Marek spun around and snarled, “You want to know what kind of person my father was? What kind of genetic traits I inherited? Well, I’ll tell you.” Finding a rattan chair, he slumped into it and stared hard at her, his eyes lethal and probing. “When I was eleven I went to see him. I’d never met him before, but everyone on the island knew where he lived. All I had to do was ask around at church to find out. Merde, the man was practically a local celebrity with his big house and successful business. One of the old ladies at church told me how to get to his house, thinking I just wanted to know where it was. She didn’t think I’d want to talk to him. She went on and on about how sophisticated and elegant my father was. How proper and high class.”
He paused to lean forward and place his elbows on his knees. Carm was afraid to hear what happened, but listened when he went on.
“My mother didn’t talk about him to me, but I’d heard things around the island. He was an Oxford graduate, originally from London. A descendant of a very wealthy British family with a fortune of his own.” Marek frowned, pausing a beat. “He was all of that, Carmen, and he couldn’t spare a dime to make certain his illegitimate child and its mother had enough to eat.”
Shaking his head at the memory, he cleared his throat and looked back at Carm. “I was tired of hearing my mother cry at night. Tired of him hurting her even though he was never there. And I wanted my father to see me. See what he’d made. But I also wanted his acceptance, cheri. I wanted his love so desperately. I thought if I could make myself look like the proper British son of a wealthy businessman he might acknowledge me, maybe even love me.”
Tears welled in her eyes at the pain Marek tried to hide. But it was there in his voice and in his clear green eyes. How could anyone turn from their own child like that?
What he said next broke her heart. “I put on my best suit. I’d hit a growth spurt and it was too short in the pants and sleeves, but I wanted to look the best I could the first time I met my father. Then I took some of my mother’s hair products and tried to plaster my hair down against my head like I’d seen other white British kids do. I didn’t want my Islander to show; didn’t want to give him anything to dislike.” Dangling his hands between his knees, Marek went on. “I stole some of my mother’s money and hired a taxi to take me to his place high up on the ridge. It was amazing up there. The maid took me out to the back patio to see him. And you know what he did?”
Carm shook her head, tears swimming unshed in her eyes. She didn’t want to know what he’d said and done to that poor little boy. “I don’t want to know.”
That ugly grin returned as Marek mocked, “Of course you don’t, cheri. It might alter your rose-colored view of things. Too bad. You asked, now you’re going to know it all. He was sunbathing on the deck when I went out to see him. I couldn’t believe he was my father. He was so dapper with his blue eyes, gray hair and upper-crust accent. We had the same nose, cheri. I remember that, and I remember thinking that would make him accept me. But he took one look at me with my flattened down curly hair and my darker skin and dismissed me. Told me, and I quote, ‘No half-breed island nigger will ever be a son of mine’. Before he walked away, he said I’d never amount to a thing. That all I’d ever be was an ignorant half-breed nothing who was better off dead than wasting good air. Then he left me. Alone. Just like he left my mother.”
Like a floodgate flung wide open, tears poured down Carm’s cheeks. He didn’t know the pain that slashed across his face when he spoke of that time. Nothing had prepared her for his father’s cruel words. How could a man speak to his son that way? How could he say those horrible things?
Just then Marek lifted his eyes, and stated, “I don’t want your pity. Save it for someone else. I told you about this so that you’d know where I come from. Not so you would feel sorry for me.”
“But—,”
“But nothing, Carmen. I know who I am. I am a half-breed Islander who came from nothing. And I’m proud of it. But he was wrong about the rest. I became something, cheri. And it ate him alive when I came back to this island a rich, educated man.”
That was why Marek had been a troubled teen. Hell, she would have been too, if her father had said those things to her. And it was also why he’d made his fortune on the stock exchange and had come home instead of living it up in the States.
Admiration for Marek shook her to the core. He had overcome so many obstacles in his life. And who he’d become took her breath away. He wasn’t just a man to love—he was a man to admire and respect as well. And he amazed her.
Marek watched as emotions played across Carm’s face. He hadn’t meant to tell her. Had never wanted to tell anyone about that dark day with his father. But he’d had no choice. The moment he’d fallen in love with her, choice had vanished. She needed to understand what kind of man he was capable of being.
Old anger gnawed at his gut as he stared across the living room to Carm. Part of him wanted to comfort her, offer her empty promises, like that he would never do a thing like that to her. Part of him wanted to declare his love. But he couldn’t. Not now.
Her voice came over the silence, soft and coaxing. “How did you inherit Blue Mist then? Why did he leave it to you?”
That was the hell of it. The old bastard had left almost everything to him. And his mother. “He had an attack of conscience, I guess. News travels fast on Tortola and as he sat up on his hill dying from cancer, he heard what a success I had become. How well I’d done for myself and that I had enough money of my own to rival him. Believe me, the news of the inheritance shocked the hell out of me..”
Merde, he still remembered the day he’d been told he’d inherited a booming coffee company. The old man had never tried to contact him while he was alive. But he left a company and a handwritten note. In the note he’d left a short apology, acknowledging the inheritance did little to make up for his rejection, but it was all he had to offer.
At first Marek had refused the company, too pissed off at the man to want any thing from him. But his mother had straightened him out on that. Well, his mother and Landon. They both basically asked when he’d become a fool. They’d made him realize he had the opportunity to do something far and above what the old man had. To put his mark on the world.
Marek stood and said, “He left my mother enough money to buy the Green Island Inn and to never have to go hungry again. So I figured I’d take something of his and make it better than he had. And I’m doing that, Carm. I have the ingenuity the old man didn’t have. My new fair trade certified coffees are some of the best in the world. I’m creating one of the most delectable shade grown organic coffees on the market. I’m making Blue Mist my own, on my own terms.”
Carm stood up and walked to him, her beautiful eyes full of unshed tears. Her smell encircled him, pulled him close, as she placed her hands on his face. Cupping his cheeks in her cool palms, she looked at him and whispered, “I’m proud of you, Marek. Proud of who you are. I admire what you’ve done.”
His heart se
ized up and lodged in his chest. He couldn’t breathe around the sudden tightness. To hear her say such things. She couldn’t know what that meant to him. To have the woman he loved say that she was proud of him. It nearly buckled his knees.
Suddenly the room was too confined. His chest burned from the breath he held, and Marek let it out on a huff. He needed some room to think.
Placing his hands on top of Carm’s, he stepped back and smiled. A real smile that reached his eyes this time. “Thank you, cheri. I need some air, so I’m going outside for a while. You’d better go up to bed.”
Her brow wrinkled as she protested, “There’s more that we need to discuss.”
Taking another step back, Marek raised a brow and replied, “Like what? I’ve told you everything.”
Her hair shimmered pale gold under the lights as she shook her head. “Not everything, you haven’t. More though, we need talk about the fact that I’m in love with you and I’m supposed to leave here in a few days.”
The words shot out and climbed inside Marek, buried deep in his heart. A tingling sensation shimmied over his body, like hot little pinpricks.
She was in love with him.
Though he’d suspected it, hearing her say the words did all sorts of amazing things to him. Conflicting things. He felt like whooping for joy and at the same time he wanted to deny it. For her sake. Didn’t she realize she’s risking a broken heart loving him? How could he live with himself if he did to her what his father did to his mother?
Answers eluded him. None would be found tonight.
She waited silently for his reaction, a look of defiance and challenge on her face. Marek knew she was ready for battle. The woman didn’t expect him to take the news easily. She had a backbone of steel and determination. Christ, he loved that about her.
Most any other time he would have loved to goad her, but with her love openly acknowledged and resting warm in his heart, he needed time to think.