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Page 112

by Cathy Williams

“Yep,” his father said. “You’re every bit as pretty as he claimed.”

  She saw Hunter wince. “Let’s keep it professional, Dad. Remember, this isn’t a social visit.”

  Hunter had described her as pretty? She couldn’t help but feel pleased.

  “Whatever you say,” his father replied with a big grin.

  Cassie smiled in return. As she glanced at the older man’s friendly smile, she could feel her apprehension fade. He seemed to radiate sincerity. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Axon.”

  “Phil. Call me Phil.”

  “Hey, Phil,” said Hunter. He nodded toward the cottage. “Are we meeting at the house?”

  “Inside?” he asked. “On such a beautiful day?”

  It was beautiful. Cassie glanced at the sky. Eighty degrees and sunny, with not a drop of humidity.

  “I was hoping,” Phil continued, “that we might be able to discuss things over a pole.”

  “Excuse me?” Cassie asked.

  “I don’t think Cassie is interested in fishing, Dad.”

  “Actually,” Cassie said, “I would love to.” She still wasn’t sure if Hunter had been telling her the truth when he said the future of the mill rested in the hands of his board—his father. But if her fate really did rest in the hands of this seemingly kind and simple man, then so be it. Perhaps she still had a chance of saving the mill after all.

  Phil smiled and held out his arm. Cassie looped her hand through it and together they walked toward an embankment at the top of which were four chairs.

  It didn’t take Cassie long to start talking about Shanville and Demion Mills. She told Hunter’s father the story of how the mill began and described how it had become the anchor of the town. She told him about the looms and explained how they hand wove the material. She talked about the people who worked there and explained why their futures were dependent on the mill.

  Hunter’s father listened patiently. When she was finished, Phil asked her the same question Hunter had asked. “What makes you think you can save it?”

  She looked at Hunter. “I’m not sure I can. But I know I have to try.”

  He shrugged. “Fair enough.” He glanced at Hunter. “How much of a hit will you take?”

  “He’s keeping the patent,” Cassie said defensively, before Hunter could answer. “We’re just asking him to finance the buy-back.”

  Hunter raised his eyebrows. “The mill has not made a profit in five years.”

  Phil maintained eye contact with his son. “So this is not a business decision, is it?”

  Cassie swallowed. Perhaps she had been wrong about Phil Axon’s understanding nature. She said, “We’ll pay him back regardless. Even if we have to sell our homes to do it.”

  Hunter said to his father, “You and I can talk about this later.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “What?” both Hunter and Cassie asked simultaneously.

  Phil glanced at his son. “I think she’s a woman of her word. If she says she’ll pay you back, then she’ll pay you back.”

  “With interest,” Cassie said.

  Hunter glanced away, obviously surprised by his father’s proclamation. Before he had a chance to respond, however, his phone rang. He flipped it open and turned away as he spoke in a low voice.

  Cassie looked at Phil and smiled. “Thank you,” she said.

  “You’re more than welcome. But I think you should know it’s ultimately Hunter’s decision.”

  “Then,” she said wistfully, “I doubt we stand a chance.”

  “I disagree.”

  She gave him a puzzled look.

  “I understand why you might say that. I know his reputation. The corporate robber baron. And I’m not saying it’s not deserved. But I know a different side.”

  She glanced away.

  “You know,” his father said, “life hasn’t been easy for Hunter. Not easy at all. After his mother died, I went through a hard time. Things just got worse when I lost my job. I came here to figure things out. My mother—Hunter’s grandmother—was worried about us living out here alone. She didn’t have much faith in my ability to bring up a child. And I suppose she was right. I could barely take care of myself.

  “We never had much money,” he continued. “I did my best, but I was dependent on the sea. Sometimes the fish were plentiful, sometimes they weren’t. We never had any extra money for books, clothes, medicine, the stuff most kids take for granted.”

  Hunter’s father was a nice man who obviously loved his son. But how could he excuse Hunter’s behavior? Lots of children grew up poor. They didn’t turn into money-hungry tycoons.

  “One year Hunter’s grandma got sick. She’d never been in good shape. Well, we put her in the boat and got her over to the mainland. But we waited and waited for them to check her into the hospital. In the meantime, we kept watching all these other people just walk right in and get service. See, it didn’t matter if she was dying. We were poor. They took the ones with money or insurance first. By the time we finally got in, it was too late. She died. They tried to save her, but they couldn’t. Hunter was convinced if we’d had money, things would’ve turned out differently.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “His goals were commendable. He was driven not by greed but by compassion.”

  She didn’t answer. She did not want to be the one to tell him that honorable intentions did not necessarily make an honorable man. But still, she couldn’t help but be touched by Hunter’s history. If her grandmother had suffered the same fate, who knew what impression that might have made on her?

  “How did he end up at Yale?”

  “After his grandma died, Hunter applied to a boarding school. He got in, and when he graduated he applied to the best of schools, determined to work his way through college.” He smiled. “He’s done it all by himself, every step of the way.”

  She understood why he would be proud. It was an impressive feat—a boy of simple means turning himself into one of the richest men in the country.

  Phil shrugged. “I know I’m rambling.”

  “Not at all,” she said with a smile.

  He looked back at the water. “I must say, when Hunter told me he was bringing a lady out here I just assumed it was a date. He doesn’t often bring his associates.”

  She glanced at Hunter. He was still talking on the phone, his back to them, oblivious to the conversation occurring behind him. She felt a pang of jealousy. Did he bring dates often? How many women had he brought to meet his father?

  As if reading her mind, Phil said, “Although I don’t know why I’d think it was anything but a business associate, I can’t remember the last time he brought a girlfriend out here.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. But what did she care? She was not dating him. Phil said, “He’s a good man, my Hunter.”

  She glanced down. A good man? He was a powerful man, a man who had made millions. But he was not exactly known for his philanthropic nature. Then again, from what Phil had just told her, she could understand why he might think such a thing. “I’ve always felt the one thing my son needed was a good woman.”

  “I don’t think your son has any trouble finding women.”

  “Just not the right one.” He shook his head. “He thought he found her once.”

  “What do you mean?” Cassie asked, stabbed by a momentary pang of jealousy.

  “He was going to marry her. Darn near broke his heart, she did. I tried to warn him. Saw it coming a mile away.” He shrugged. “But he’s always had a mind of his own.”

  “Well,” Hunter said, appearing behind him, “what did I miss?” Cassie glanced up at him. Hunter had suffered a broken heart? She found it difficult to imagine. She had just assumed him to be the heartbreaker, not the other way around.

  “Oh, we’re just getting to know each other. Right, Cassie?” Phil asked with a wink.

  She nodded.

  “Cassie,” Phil said, “it seems a shame to go back to the
mainland so soon. Would you like to see the island?”

  She glanced at Hunter, who looked at his watch. She picked up on his cue and said, “I’m not sure we have time.”

  “Come on now, Hunter,” Phil said. “She’s come a long way. And it’s lunchtime.”

  “All right,” Hunter reluctantly agreed.

  Phil smiled. “You should take her to the fishmonger.” He shrugged. “The island only has one decent restaurant and it’s not much.”

  “Aren’t you coming?” Cassie asked hesitantly. The only reason she had been amenable to staying was that she thought he was inviting her.

  “Me?” he asked, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “I’ve got too much work to do. But you two go on.”

  “Too much work?” Hunter asked, surprised.

  “You got it,” Phil said. “Now go on.”

  Hunter rolled his eyes.

  Cassie stood up. “I’m not exactly dressed for an island tour.”

  “Leave your shoes here. Besides that, you’re fine.”

  “My shoes?” Cassie repeated.

  Hunter shrugged. “People rarely wear shoes on the island.”

  “I’ll hold on to them for you,” Phil said. “Don’t you worry.”

  As they walked away, Hunter whispered, “Don’t let my dad pressure you. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I can take you back.”

  She glanced around. The sweet smell of jasmine filled the air. She could feel her resolve weaken. After all, how often did she travel to an island paradise? “No,” she said. “I would like to stay. If, of course, it’s okay with you.”

  “My schedule is clear for the day.”

  She nodded. Once again she found herself wondering why Hunter had brought her there. “I like your dad,” she said. “He seems like a nice man.”

  “He is.”

  She stopped walking. “Does his opinion really make a difference?”

  “Not typically,” he said, without looking away.

  Any optimism she might have felt disappeared with his words. She swallowed hard, trying not to reveal her frustration. “So, why am I here?”

  “Because,” he said, “this is not a typical situation.”

  “So you’re honestly considering my proposal?” she said, as hope once again filled her heart.

  “You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” His expression stilled and grew serious. He looked as if he was waiting for her to speak. But what did he want her to say?

  He glanced away and nodded toward a small motorbike next to the house. “This is our transportation.”

  “That?” she said, looking at the bike. There was barely room for one person, not to mention two.

  He jumped on. “Climb on,” he said, turning the key to the ignition.

  Cassie hesitated. Hunter met her eyes, as if daring her. He said, “You wanted to see the island. This is how people travel here.”

  She hiked up her skirt and sat behind him. Her bare legs rested against his.

  “Hold on,” he said.

  As the bike jolted forward, she instinctively grabbed on to Hunter’s waist. Through his shirt she could feel his taut muscles. Once again she saw his naked body, towering above her as he penetrated deep inside her. At the memory she stiffened slightly and leaned back.

  They were traveling down a narrow dirt road carved out of a jungle. She could see glimpses of island life—brightly colored birds, the deep blue Atlantic. Finally they came out into a clearing. It was as if she had stepped back in time. Vendors of exotic fruit and fish crowded the streets. Although there was a small marina, it was wooden and rickety.

  “This is the island that time has forgotten,” Hunter said, stopping the bike in front of a small building.

  “I’m surprised that some big resort hasn’t gobbled this up yet.”

  “No,” he said. “It’s not going to happen, either.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure.” She glanced at him. But she could tell by the expression on his face that he was not making an educated guess. He knew for a fact this island was safe from development. “You own this island, don’t you?”

  He held back a grin. “Let’s eat.”

  So he owned an island, too. “I’m surprised you haven’t sold it off to a developer. I bet you could make some money.”

  He stopped. “Believe it or not, I’m not all about money.”

  “Prove it.”

  “If I was all about money, you wouldn’t be here right now.” He was towering above her. His voice was low and his eyes were cold.

  He held her gaze for a moment before turning and opening the door. The bright sunlight disappeared. They were in a small, dark room with a long bar behind which a man was grilling fish.

  Hunter nodded toward a stool. “Have a seat.”

  “Hunter!” the man said, beaming when he saw him. “This is a surprise.”

  “I was in the neighborhood,” Hunter said.

  “I talked to your father,” the man said. “He tells me you’re very busy these days.” The man looked at Cassie and smiled again. “I can see why.”

  Hunter raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid you’re wrong.” He glanced at Cassie. “She thinks I’m an arrogant bastard.”

  The man looked at Cassie and frowned.

  Embarrassed, she said, “I never said—”

  “I didn’t say you did. I said you thought it.” She could see the mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Freddy, I’d like you to meet Cassie Edwards, a business associate.”

  “Nice to meet you, Miss Edwards,” Freddy said with a smile. He grasped her hand warmly. “But you’re wrong about this man here. He’s the most decent man I’ve ever met.”

  “I think you give me a little too much credit, Freddy. But thank you.”

  Freddy chuckled. “I’ll give you two the specials. It will fix you right up.”

  She glanced at Hunter. He was obviously still tickled by his own joke. “I enjoyed talking to your father. He’s not what I would’ve expected,” she said, as Freddy chopped a head off a fish. She looked away.

  “How so?”

  Who would think the father of a corporate giant would be so down to earth and nice? “He seems so…perceptive.”

  “He can be,” Hunter said.

  As they ate their meal, Hunter glanced at the woman beside him. He had enjoyed introducing her to his family and friends and the island he still referred to as home. Hunter turned back toward Freddy. He had known him his whole life. The two had grown up together, attended the local school, graduated in the same class. Although Hunter had never told another soul, it was he who had bought Freddy this restaurant. He had offered to set him up anyplace in the world he desired but Freddy had not wanted to move. He confessed his dream had always been to have a little restaurant right there on the beach. And so, that was exactly what Hunter had given him. But it was his friend who had made the restaurant a success.

  “What about dessert?” Freddy asked when they were finished.

  Cassie shook her head. “No thanks. That was delicious, though.”

  Freddy smiled and flashed Hunter the thumbs-up. Hunter could see Cassie turn red with embarrassment. “I like her!” Freddy said.

  “Don’t get too excited there,” Hunter said. “Like I said, she’s a business associate.”

  Freddy winked. “Well, maybe your business associate would like to see Blind Man’s Peak.”

  “I don’t think so,” Hunter said, looking at her. “She needs to get back to the mainland.”

  “What’s Blind Man’s Peak?” she asked.

  “We used to go there as kids. It’s on top of an old volcano. It’s got a view of all the islands around here.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  What did that mean? Did she want to go? “It’s a little bit of a hike. The path is too steep for the bike.”

  She put her napkin on her plate. “I can handle it.”

  “You can’t go in bare feet.”

  “So let’s go get
my shoes.”

  “You can’t wear high heels, Cassie. You could break something.”

  “Shoes? Does someone need shoes?” asked Freddy.

  “Freddy…” began Hunter.

  “What size?”

  She smiled at Freddy. “Nine.”

  “Big feet,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Don’t tell me he’s gone out to find a pair of shoes for me.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “They sell shoes?”

  He nodded. “Freddy has a big family. Most of them work in the vendor stands you saw out front. You could purchase a whole new wardrobe, if you like.”

  Freddy burst back in the front door. He ran over to the grill and flipped some more fish. Then he turned back toward Cassie and said, “Try these.”

  He handed her a pair of flip-flops on which someone had painstakingly glued shells. She said, “They’re much too beautiful to wear.”

  “That’s what they’re for,” Freddy argued.

  She slipped them on. “They’re wonderful. Thank you.”

  “Anything for a friend of Hunter’s.”

  Hunter smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Freddy.”

  Freddy winked and handed Hunter a pair of plain flip-flops. “I didn’t want you to feel bad.”

  “I owe you one, my friend,” Hunter said with a grin.

  Hunter turned back toward Cassie. “Whenever you’re ready…”

  “I’m ready.” She stood up. “Thank you for this delicious lunch,” she said to Freddy. “And,” she said, pointing to her feet, “for the shoes.”

  Hunter led Cassie out. They were almost to the door when Freddy once again flashed him a thumbs-up. Hunter was not surprised by his friend’s opinion of Cassie. Nor was he surprised by his father’s. It only cemented what he had suspected.

  Cassie was not like Lisa.

  He had taken Lisa to the island only once. Despite her kind words and pleasant smile, she had been all too anxious to escape back to the mainland and the comforts of an expensive hotel.

  He got on the bike. Cassie jumped on behind him. She slid back as far as possible, but she could not stop her breasts from pushing up against him. She held her hands stiff, barely touching his waist.

  He drove off the road, heading toward a familiar path. After a while they came out at another clearing. Hunter parked his bike. “We have to walk from here.”

 

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