by RG Alexander
The large, scarred man walked over to his desk and set down the envelope, reaching for a slender brass key in his pocket to unlock the top drawer. It was where he kept them, she knew. The invitations that were sent only to those he’d carefully selected to be guests of Eden. He pulled one out and compared the two. As if he didn’t know they were identical in every way.
As if he didn’t know.
A chill raced up her spine and the truth hit her so hard she nearly stumbled. How could he not know?
“How?” she repeated out loud.
Theodosius was not a happy man. “I honestly have no idea. This is impossible. It is an invitation, and the writing is mine as well, but I didn’t do this, Joely. You know I didn’t. You always know.”
“I do now.” She started pacing, shaking her head. She should have sensed it right away, but her emotions had gotten the better of her. Her fear and the feeling of betrayal that had engulfed her when she thought Vardalos was behind her unexpected invitation.
“Well, that’s a load off,” she said to break the tense silence that had descended. “This is good, right, big guy? It’s a copy. A fake. A fake doesn’t count. Someone in your employ is playing a prank on me, completely oblivious to the fact that I have no sense of humor and could have them thrown out of my plane for mutiny.”
Theo was still rubbing the stock between his fingers. “It’s not a fake, Joely. I helped create the stock myself, remember, for the sole purpose of these invitations. The man who designs them for me is only given enough material to make what I require, and he is paid handsomely enough to be exclusive. It is the same.”
Joely wasn’t sure how he knew the difference. How he could feel it. “It’s still just paper, isn’t it? It’s harmless.”
“Harmless?” Anger transformed his face into a fearsome mask, his scars stretching and jaw tightening. “Someone forged one of my invitations and recreated my handwriting flawlessly. If this is a prank it isn’t harmless. It’s dangerous. But I can’t begin to guess who would do it, or why. Perhaps we should get Security involved.”
She didn’t like where this was heading. He had his paranoid beast face on again. He’d get everyone involved and talking about her. She tugged it out of his hand. “It doesn’t matter, big guy. You didn’t send it. You didn’t sign it. It isn’t an actual invitation.”
Joely made sure he was watching as she tore it up into as many pieces as she could and let them fall on the floor around her. She ignored his flinch at the action.
“You are destroying evidence.”
“I’m solving a problem.”
Unless it was the island…
She definitely needed a personal day. Soon. The island was miraculous, but she doubted it would go to the trouble of forging Vardalos’ scrawl and sending mail to her rooms. She needed to forget about it entirely, its arrival and her reaction to it, and focus on her work. That was what she did best. That was all the fantasy she needed.
“Since I’m here and I didn’t get a chance to look at the files—rough outline—who do I need to be today? Invisible pilot, humorous distraction or supportive ally? And please tell me I’m not transporting a werewolf anytime soon. Wanda is a small craft and she doesn’t do wild animals.”
He stepped away from her, avoiding her eyes, an expression of concern on the unmarred side of his face. “You never have to be anyone but yourself, Joely.”
Vardalos didn’t understand how much she enjoyed her job. She was the gatekeeper, the first stage of the Eden experience for most of the guests, and for that her abilities were a gift she enjoyed. The island could be overwhelming on its best days. Lord knew she’d been thrown for a loop the first night she’d spent here. That was why she loved being Eden’s representative almost as much as she loved flying. Loved seeing the doubt and insecurity transform to hope and wonder on each new face when they realized nothing would ever be the same—it would be better.
He looked so uncomfortable she was starting to get nervous again. “Can I at least have a hint?”
“Two guests, both male. Courtney Stiles was a last minute addition. I wasn’t sure his need was all that dire but in his letter he was so adama—”
“Courtney? You get letters you ignore all the time, but you let a man named Courtney wrangle an invitation?” She chuckled until he sent her a speaking look.
“He prefers Court—and, I’d assume, people who don’t laugh at his name while he’s on vacation. And I chose to invite him because he’s a close, personal friend of your other passenger.”
Joely shifted and crossed her arms. “Roger that, big guy. So I’m picking up Stiles and his good buddy…?”
“A return visitor.” Vardalos moved to sit behind his desk, buttoning his shirt with slow, precise movements. Too slow. Too precise.
I won’t like it.
A return visitor she wouldn’t like. That didn’t narrow it down much since he knew she didn’t approve of his occasional decisions to double down on the rare invitations. There were too many people out there who’d never had a single dream come true, people who deserved what the island could give them. She knew there were. She’d met more than her share of them over the course of her life.
“You’re afraid to tell me. Is it that gold-toothed widower who called my Wanda a deathtrap and asked to see my pilot’s license?” She pressed her palms into the desk and tilted her head playfully at him. “If so I’ll be nice, I promise. Only a little extra turbulence on my joy ride.”
Her boss sighed heavily. “It’s Austin, Joely. And before you say it, yes, this will be his fourth visit. Not that I have to explain myself or my reasoning to you, but he and I were friends once. Good friends. Trust me when I say he has more than earned his right to revisit Eden.”
Austin. “Austin Wright is coming back? Today?”
Why didn’t I know that? Didn’t I dream about him last night? Wasn’t that why I woke up before the sun to train in the gym until I stopped seeing his smile and feeling his hands on my body?
She tried not to think about it. There had been no reason to imagine last night’s dream had been any different than the ones she had on a regular basis. A very regular basis. Austin Wright was just a conveniently attractive man that her subconscious had decided to cast in her erotic fantasies. It didn’t mean anything.
Something is coming. Someone is coming.
Was his visit what she was afraid of? Why did her reaction to the man always upset her? He was a wealthy guest who knew the boss and so got special attention from the staff, which she disapproved of. He was serious, and as a rule she didn’t trust a serious man who wasn’t Mr. V. He was too…
Too what? Intelligent? Sexy? Interested in her?
Joely could still remember the smile in his light-gray eyes when he’d gotten off the plane in Miami after his initial visit. That smile had replaced the broken, haunted visage he’d worn when he arrived, which meant Eden had done its job and earned another satisfied customer. She’d been happy for him then.
She hadn’t been able to stop herself from committing his handsome face to memory as he disembarked—the strong jaw and thick lashes, the unfairly sensual shape of his lips. It was only when he’d grimaced in frustration as he was settled back into his wheelchair by his driver that she’d remembered that staring was rude.
His second trip to the island, Austin had arrived for the flight on crutches, and the third time he’d used a cane, and both times she’d flown him back to the island, those piercing eyes had studied her and seen through her in a way no other guest had bothered to before.
He’d started to talk more during their trips. He’d listened intently to her purposefully short responses and, in her opinion, heard too much in her answers. And his smile… He smiled in a way that made her stomach knot up. Made her think about what he was doing on the island the entire time he was here. The man had gotten under her skin.
Worse, Vardalos had never given her a single hint, either in his files or their conversations, about why Austin had
to keep coming back. How many unspoken fantasies and heart’s desires could one man have? Who were they about?
What wasn’t the boss telling her? “Are you going into business with him? Is he blackmailing you with some juicy bit of scandal from your past? Four times, Mr. V. Guests don’t get invited back four times.”
“Unless I want them to.” That voice told her the discussion was closed and Joely had the infantile desire to throw a genuine tantrum.
Was the universe trying to drive her crazy? First the phony invitation and now… Oh God. Was it a coincidence? It had to be. No one else could know how often Austin had invaded her dreams.
The island knows…
Shut up, she told the voice in her head firmly. Just…shut up.
Joely stepped away from the desk and pushed her hair out of her face, walking backward toward the door. “Oz has spoken,” she intoned dramatically, offering him a formal bow. “But so we’re clear, this face you’re seeing right now? This is my disapproving face. It’s also my I’ll-get-you-and-your-little-dog-too face. Be afraid, big guy, because you never know when I might strike. When your dream date gets here I might— Whoa.”
When she stumbled and grabbed her stomach, Vardalos stood up abruptly and circled the desk to reach her. “Joely? What is it? Are you sick?”
Joely shook her head, unable to respond. That was big. That was a seven-point-five on the Richter scale. She could count on a single hand how many times her feelings had been that strong.
Someone is coming. Joely looked into Theodosius Vardalos’ eyes and forced herself not to smile, forgetting about her own worries for a minute and silently celebrating the knowledge.
Maybe that was what the island had been trying to tell her all morning. It wasn’t about Austin at all, or her reaction to him. He and his friend would be too busy with each other to pay much attention to her. She’d bring extra liquor just in case to help distract them. This flight would be the same as the hundred that had come before. She would see them to the island and get ready for the next hundred. And the next. Life would go on as usual.
It isn’t about me, is it? It’s about him. Someone is coming for Vardalos.
His fantasy was about to come true.
Chapter One
Joely was flying. It was the only time she felt truly free. When she was ten, Uncle Artie had taken her up in his red-and-white Cessna for her first lesson and she’d decided this was her place. Up here she was untouchable. The rest of the world disappeared and she could outmaneuver any problem, outrace any storm Mother Nature decided to throw her way.
Flying was better than key lime pie. Better than sex. It was every good Christmas, every rollercoaster ride and every happy thought she’d ever had rolled into one. Why would she want to do anything else? Sometimes, she almost believed she could touch the stars.
Stars. Wait, how could there be stars in the middle of the day?
Bright lights were all around her, swirling faster and faster until the plane dropped away and she was falling. She saw the island below her, watched the water crash against the shore, the whitecaps scrabbling for purchase with grasping hands.
Eden was spinning too. Like an oddly shaped top in the water, the island whirled, sending out rippling waves in all directions. How could an island spin? And why was she not wearing a parachute? She would never jump out of a plane toward a spinning island without a parachute.
As she neared the earth, Joely saw a small beach of white sand littered with pieces of luggage and people. She’d never seen this part of the island before, had she? She thought she’d studied it from one tip to the other but this didn’t look familiar. The beach disappeared into a thickly wooded area where there were no resort buildings. No lovers groping in the clearings. No signs of life at all.
But there was life by the water. Two men were crawling on the beach toward a slender woman who appeared to be unconscious. One of them felt her pulse—she was so still Joely didn’t blame him. The other gripped her shoulders and gave them a gentle shake. When there was no response, he shook her again, harder this time.
Joely wanted to scream down at them—not just to tell them shaking was a horrible way to wake a potentially injured person, but to warn them she was about to come crashing down right on top of them like a meteor in khaki shorts and none of them would survive long enough to tell the tale. Then she saw the man who’d felt the woman’s pulse raise his hand and slap her face.
Joely gasped in shock, her cheek stinging as she opened her eyes to look up at the worried faces above her. “What the hell?”
“Joely?” She knew that voice. Smoky, sexy and tight with concern. Austin Wright. “Thank God you’re okay. Can you sit up, baby?”
Her instinctive frown at the endearment made the other man laugh, the carefree sound drawing her gaze. The shock of red hair on his head matched the bright strands in his brown beard and enhanced the deep blue of his eyes. She’d seen his face before.
“You slapped me.”
His lips curved. “And now you’re awake. You’re welcome. I suppose I could have kissed you instead…baby.”
“Thank you, I’m good.” She lifted her hand to her cheek. His name was strange. What was it? Courtney. Court.
Court Stiles and Austin Wright. These were her passengers. Her passengers…
Her plane.
“Wanda.” She pushed herself up onto her elbows and looked around frantically. Where the hell was her plane? “What happened? Where’s my puddle jumper?”
“Well hell, Mary Ann. We just woke up ourselves. We were hoping you could tell us, since you’re the pilot. Or was I dreaming that part?”
Mary Ann. She’d never heard that one before, she thought sarcastically.
“Lay off, Court.” Austin slid a warm hand under her elbow and helped her to her feet. Joely was forced to lean against him long enough to realize that he smelled really damn good before she took a few wavering steps away. “Give her a chance to get her bearings. Give us all a damn chance.”
But how could she get her bearings? She had no idea where they were or how they’d gotten here. No idea where the plane was or why she felt like she’d been slipped a Mickey. She ran a hand through her hair and turned to face the redhead. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
He scratched his beard thoughtfully, blue eyes still sparkling with amusement. “Sexual tension.” When Austin swore, the man shrugged. “She asked, buddy. That’s what I remember. I flirted outrageously and in case you’ve forgotten, she liked it. Mr. Serious here glared at me whenever he could look away from your lovely thighs, and then there was this big dark—”
“The cloud,” Joely interrupted, remembering. She’d been thoroughly enjoying the humor and sexual banter of her passenger, Court Stiles. Particularly the way it seemed to get under Austin’s skin. And she could tell it really did. He’d been thrown to see the man, and even more surprised when his bearded friend waved an invitation in his face after Austin accused him of being a stowaway.
Court had relished Austin’s discomfort so much, but in such a playful way, that Joely couldn’t help but like him instantly. Mr. Wright hadn’t seemed happy about that either.
Serves him right, she’d told herself. Austin had spent their previous flights driving her crazy, somehow ensuring he was her only passenger so he could give her his full attention. Ensuring she had no one else to distract her from the sound of his smoky voice or the feel of his appreciative gaze making its endless study of her. Guaranteeing her cockpit would smell like his soap and that subtle, masculine scent that was unique to him.
It was fun to drive him nutty for a change. And Mr. Stiles was a handsome and irreverent partner in crime. Taller than Austin by a head, he looked more like an MMA fighter than a member of the Vardalos and Wright social circles, and he was entertaining company. Between that and the still-fresh knowledge of her grumpy boss’s impending fall down the fantasy rabbit hole, her mood had taken a decided upswing.
Then everything had changed
just ten minutes from the island. The sky ahead of them had turned dark and threatening with an unexpected line of storm clouds. Her instruments started to fritz, and no matter how she maneuvered, she couldn’t find her heading. One minute blue sky, the next…
Court lifted one muscular shoulder in a careless shrug. “I was going to say alien mother ship, but if you’re going to get technical, then yes, a big, dark cloud. You tried to fly around it but there didn’t seem to be an end to the thing. We flew inside and boom—instant beach nap. Austin told me this place was different, but I’ve got to say leis and hula dancers are a more enticing welcome than alien abductions. Just my personal preference.”
“We don’t do aliens.” She looked up, shielding her eyes. Bright and sunny. If there’d been a storm, it had passed. How long had she been unconscious? Had they crashed in the ocean and washed to shore? She touched her black work shirt and bit her lip. It didn’t feel like it had spent hours in the salty deep—it was still as soft as when she’d pulled it from the dryer this morning. This was making less and less sense. If they hadn’t crashed in the water, where the hell was her plane? How was she supposed to get them back where they belonged? She needed to call her boss.
Joely slid a hand into her pocket, reaching for her cell phone.
It was gone. Of course it was gone. This day was officially awful again. And she was too frazzled to sense anything.
“Do either of you have a phone?”
“I do.” Austin reached into the nearest bag and pulled out his device, lifting it over his head for a moment and moving in a slow circle before swearing. “No signal, damn it. Nothing. This is not how I imagined this day going.”