by Amira Rain
His presence was still commanding, somehow. He moved with his broad chest up and shoulders thrown back. This made me wonder how commanding and "alpha" he might look in other situations, ones maybe not involving cleaning.
It was during one of my peeks that I noticed he was left-handed. I also noticed the absence of a wedding ring on his left hand, though I knew this didn't necessarily mean that he wasn't part of a very committed couple. I knew he could be one of those men who didn't like wearing a ring, for whatever reason, or he could have been half of a committed couple that simply wasn't officially married. I reasoned that being that he was visiting a fertility clinic, presumably seeking advice, one of those two scenarios had to be the case. Just the same, though, I was a bit curious to hear him say exactly what his reason was for coming in.
I was a bit curious what his answer would be when I asked him a question that I planned to, which was if he and his wife, or partner, needed a referral for a fertility doctor dealing in some sort of a specialized issue. Though I figured that him saying the answer I wanted to hear, which was that he didn't have a wife or partner, was quite a long-shot.
He had the picture frame mess cleaned up in a minute or two and returned the cleaning supplies to the closet in the hallway before striding back into my office and taking a seat.
I thanked him for cleaning up the mess, and then got right to it. "What can I help you with today, Eric? Do you and your wife or partner have a specific fertility issue that you'd like to be referred to another doctor for?"
He shifted in his seat, sitting back a little more, making his muscular shoulders appear even a bit broader. I realized I was holding my breath, waiting for his response.
Finally, after only a second, though it had felt like several, he shook his head almost imperceptibly. "Not exactly. For one thing, I'm not married, nor am I in a relationship of any kind at the moment. The reason I'm here today does concern a fertility issue, though not of the kind you're probably used to dealing with. I'm here today because I have a business proposition for you."
*
The first thing Eric had said, about not being married or being in a relationship of any kind, made my heart do a little flutter. And, if I was being completely honest, it had made my loins do a bit of a flutter, too. The second thing he'd said, about having a business proposition for me, seemed to tamp down all that fluttering with a lead weight.
The last time I'd accepted a business proposal from a man, things hadn't ended so well, obviously. I really wasn't in a rush to get into the possibility of that happening again. However, at the same time, I couldn't deny that I was intensely curious about what the beyond-handsome man sitting across from me had to say. I was so curious, I leaned forward across my desk a bit, without really being very aware of the action.
"What kind of a business proposal?"
Eric took a deep breath, still leaning back in his chair, seeming completely at ease. "Well, I'll lay it right out. This may seem like an unusual proposal, and I'm sure it is, but here are the main particulars. I live outside the United States, on a privately-owned tropical island inhabited by a thousand or so people.
“Some of these people, who live on the eastern side of the island, consider me their leader. As a group, we're generally happy on the island. But recently, the women have had some fertility issues. Our doctor has discovered that many of them aren't ovulating as usual, and the few of them who have become pregnant, lost the pregnancies very early on.
“Of course, all of this has disappointed and saddened us as a group, and as the group's leader, I've realized that something must be done to fix the fertility problems and produce more children to live on the island, or else my people will eventually cease to exist.
“This is where you come in, if you decide to accept my proposal. Since it would be difficult for all hundred-some of my group's women to come over to the States for testing and treatment, I'd like to hire you to fly over to the island to stay for a while, maybe three months or so, to try to get to the bottom of our problem.
“In exchange, I'd be willing to pay you a large sum of money for your time and expertise. Say, a hundred thousand up front, directly wired into the bank account of your choice, today, even before stepping on a plane. That would simply be for your commitment to make the trip and attempt to sort out the problem, no matter how long you would ultimately stay.
“If you stayed only for a day, that hundred thousand would still be yours. However, if you were to choose to stay for the full three months, I'd pay you another hundred thousand, regardless of whether or not you were able to solve the fertility issues. I'm offering such a large sum in exchange for help because I realize that being out of the country, away from friends and family, for a few months solid, may not be a situation to everyone's liking.
“Also, though I hate to admit it, my people and I are growing desperate. We need to solve this problem, and soon, or face eventual extinction."
Eric paused, seeming to be waiting for me to say something, but I couldn't. I could hardly even think, let alone speak. My mind was racing. It was flitting from thought to thought, from the debt I owed to the IRS, to the fact that I probably wouldn't mind being out of the country, to the realization that this offer was a possible way for me to repair the shattered pieces of my life.
Not only would my financial predicament be solved, but adding the experience of traveling to a remote island to solve the fertility issues of a whole group of people certainly wouldn't look bad on my resume, either. I imagined it might overshadow what had happened with Andrew's and my clinic.
I was also having a few thoughts about how unbelievably attractive Eric was, and it wasn't lost on me that I'd likely be spending some time with him on the island, an experience I knew I'd enjoy, even if he would essentially be my employer, and even if I would have to keep things completely professional because of that.
There was also something about the sound of "tropical island" that appealed greatly to me, as well. It was January in New York City, meaning mostly everything was covered in snow and ice. I hated it. I always had. Having lived in the city my entire life, I knew by this point what winters did to me. They sapped my energy. They depressed me. They had me daydreaming about warm sand and palm trees not long after the very first snowfall.
However, at the same time that all the potential positives of me accepting Eric's proposal flashed through my mind, I couldn't deny that his proposal was, as he himself had said, unusual. Not just a bit.
I'd heard of folks inhabiting and owning private, non-government controlled islands before, sure, but not quite the way he'd explained it, with one leader seeming to be in charge of a group of people. There was something that smacked of cultishness to me, or rather, I felt like it should have, maybe.
It just simply didn't. If another person had been describing the same scenario to me, a private island with one leader, presumably an American citizen judging by his American accent, seemingly "in charge" of a group of people, my knee-jerk reaction might have been to think something along the lines of a cult, or at least some similarly strange and possibly dangerous group dynamic.
But because Eric was the leader, I didn't think that. The same as I hadn't gotten a serial killer vibe from him, I didn't get a "cult leader" vibe, either. I knew some folks might have said so what , but I was a person who'd always had strong gut feelings and whose gut feelings were usually correct. Before opening the clinic, I'd had a vague, nagging bad feeling about partnering with Andrew, but I'd made the mistake of ignoring it.
Bottom line, whatever the group structure of the people on the island, despite it being unusual, I didn't think it was likely that the group was a cult. My gut just wasn't telling me that. My gut was, however, telling me that accepting Eric's offer might be the best thing for me and my life, and that the people of Eric's island needed help desperately.
So desperately that their leader had come all the way to New York City from wherever the island was located, in order to seek help. More
even than the money or the allure of living on a tropical island, this was beginning to sway me. After all, my passion to help people have children was the reason I'd decided to become a fertility specialist in the first place.
When I didn't respond right away to his pitch, because I was thinking too hard to do so, Eric continued. "I've been looking for someone to come to our island to help for quite some time now. I've made numerous trips to the city here, looking for someone talented, someone who can solve our problem. Most of the fertility specialists I've spoken with aren't able to come to the island on account of family commitments, or work commitments, to where they can't just pack up and leave for three months.
“Then I happened to see the article about your clinic's closing in the paper. I hope you don't mind, but I did some research on you and discovered that your patient success rates are some of the best anywhere. That's when I knew I had to at least try to get you on board. So, if you'll at least agree to think it over, I'd be very-"
"I'll do it."
Eric blinked a few times, slowly, seeming not to comprehend what I'd said. The effect of his uncertainty was almost comical, and I fought a strange urge to laugh.
"I'll do it, Eric. I want to help your people have children, and my mind's already made up. I'm on board."
With a slow, sexy half-grin curving his mouth, he studied me for a long moment. "How soon can you be ready to leave?"
The next couple of hours were a flurry of activity. Eric transferred the first hundred thousand of my earnings to my attorney, who'd distribute part of the funds to the IRS and use the remainder to pay my bills while I was gone. I sent emails to my landlord and my best friend, telling them that I'd accepted an unexpected job offer and was going to be gone for a few months. Then, I tidied up my apartment and packed several suitcases.
Exhilarated, I'd just finished adding a bright red bikini to the last one when Eric knocked on my apartment door, saying that he had a car waiting downstairs. The car would be taking us to the airport.
Eric insisted on taking all my suitcases downstairs himself, not allowing me to lift a finger. He and our driver loaded them into the trunk of the car, which was quite a car. It was a glossy black stretch limousine.
Soon, we were off, Eric and I in the backseat, just the two of us, with a tinted partition separating us from the driver. It was now early evening, and the city was aglow. Friday night traffic inched down the street in a tightly-packed, honking ribbon, several inches of fresh snow on the ground slowing things down to barely a crawl.
I was ready. I was so ready, to leave behind the congested city, the cold, the snow, memories of Jason, my former fiancé, and reminders of my failed clinic. I was ready to leave it all behind and start completely fresh. The whirlwind that had begun that afternoon had felt right, and it still did. It felt good. I felt like I was embarking on an adventure that was meant to be.
Knowing that the chance I'd been given to fix my life was truly a gift, I thanked my lucky stars that Eric had seen the article in the paper and had found me.
However, Eric was my only source of a bit of tension right then. Sitting in a fairly small enclosed space, just the two of us, I was now catching just a hint of his scent, and it was heavenly. Teasingly, maddeningly heavenly. Something clean and woodsy, with maybe just a faint note of citrus. It was a scent that was powerfully masculine, like Eric himself, It was intoxicating, and it made me want to scoot a little closer to him in order to fill my nostrils with the scent even more. It made me want to maybe run my hands up the hardened contours of his chest, breathing in deep while I did so.
Though, obviously, that wouldn't be happening. Not at the present moment, or ever. There was no way I was going to blow the amazing chance for redemption I'd been given by behaving inappropriately. No way in hell. It didn't even matter that Eric was single; he was still essentially my employer, and I planned to behave around him just how I would any other boss, which was to say professionally, at all times.
No matter how tempting and teasing his powerful, masculine scent became, and no matter if the tension in the back of the limousine became so thick it could be cut with a knife, I would remain strong and under control. I had to.
Besides, I had other things to think about right then. While the limo inched down the busy street, it occurred to me that maybe I should have packed up some medical supplies and equipment from the clinic earlier. Figuring it might not be too late, I asked Eric if we should stop to get some things, but he said no.
"Thank you for thinking of that, and for making the offer, but we have a fully-equipped medical center on the island. A regular medical doctor and a few nurses as well. I think you'll find you have everything you need in order to begin work. And if for some reason you don't, I can get you whatever you need."
Satisfied, I nodded. "Okay. Thank you."
Sometimes, when Eric was talking, even about something important, like medical equipment and supplies, like right then, I found it hard to focus on the subject at hand, which wasn't like me at all. Normally, I was able to focus just fine, but he was just that attractive. Attractive to the point of making me feel less like a doctor and more like a teenage girl, somewhat to my embarrassment.
As traffic began to move a bit faster, I was able to tear my focus away from stealing glances at Eric's strong, square jaw in silhouette, because I had an important thought. A thought I couldn't believe hadn't occurred to me earlier. I realized that while I knew we were heading to a privately-owned tropical island, I didn't even know exactly where it was. I didn't even know the name of it, or if it even had one.
Feeling a bit sheepish, I turned to Eric. "I can't believe I didn't ask you this earlier, but where is the island located, exactly? And does it have a name?"
I couldn't be certain, because the interior of the limo was so dimly-lit, but I thought I saw him shift his gaze to the side for just a split-second. Then, he responded while looking right at me, and I wondered if I'd imagined it.
"The island, which is called Black Lake Island, is in the Pacific."The phrase "in the Pacific" struck me as pretty vague, though I supposed I couldn't fault Eric for not having precise geographic coordinates at the ready, and I realized that considering the size of the Pacific Ocean, explaining the island's location in relation to other land masses might be difficult. So, I kind of decided to let that go for the time being. I was a bit more curious about something else. The name of the island was obviously strange. A little menacing-sounding, even.
Not wanting to seem rude about it, though, I cleared my throat a little, choosing my next words carefully. "The name of the island is interesting. Is there a story behind it?"
Surprising me, Eric cracked a half-grin. "Yes. And you're a very tactful and polite woman. The name of the island isn't so much 'interesting' as it is a bit strange and ominous probably, and I know it. Though, please don't let that give you any preconceived notions about the island. The part of the island where my people and I live is a truly beautiful place. We call our settlement Clearwater, and the views from around the village are almost quite literally breath-taking, and nothing ominous about them."
"Then how did the island get its name?"
Like I had earlier, I thought I saw Eric shift his gaze to the side for just a fraction of a second, but in the dimly-lit limo, I couldn't be sure. Also like earlier, he responded to me with his gaze clearly on my face.
"The earliest settlers of the island named it Black Lake because they discovered, or created, we're not even sure which, a small lake right in the center of it. Though, really, one could use the descriptor’s 'small lake' and 'large pond' quite interchangeably. It's really not very big. By my orders, my people don't go there, though."
"Why not?"
"Well...there's no natural inflow and outflow, and the water's dark and murky. We're not even entirely sure how deep it is. There are also strange currents in the lake...currents that could be very dangerous if someone were to fall in."
Baffled, I stared at Eric, sur
e I was frowning. "'Currents?' In a very small lake with no inflow or outflow?"
He seemed at a loss for words, his gaze clearly and definitely shifting to the side this time. Almost immediately, he looked at me again and gave me one of his sexy half-grins that I was fast becoming awfully fond of. "I'm sorry. I'm not explaining things very well. I've had an exceptionally long day, and I think my exhaustion is probably starting to show."
Now I felt bad. He'd had a long day, had maybe even traveled through the night to get to the States for all I knew, and here I was asking him to explain natural phenomena in a lake that wasn't even located in the island village where he and his people lived.
I gave him a little smile that I hoped expressed apology. "I understand completely. I'm starting to feel a little exhausted myself. I think my further questions about a lake I'll probably never even see, can definitely wait for another time."
While we continued heading toward the airport, we made small talk, discussing things like the climate and weather of the island, what crops were grown there, and what animals were raised for food.