by Maggie Marr
His lips pressed to hers in a gentle kiss that held promises of the passion he felt.
“Awww, look, Trevvy, do you remember when we were young and in love?”
“What the hell, Pop. I kiss you like that all the time.”
Charla smiled while Ryan continued to kiss her. Poppy and Trevor were adorable and in love even if neither wanted to admit it. Ryan sat back and rubbed his palms up and down her arms. “I think it’s time to go back to Mesquale. What do you say?”
She was hot for him, her body already swollen and wet, her nipples tight and aching for his touch. “I completely agree.”
Yes, it was time to go back to Mesquale. Time to return to the resort and go to bed.
*
The shuttle dropped the four of them off just at the edge of the resort property line. He and Charla walked down a path to the beach, with Trevor and Poppy just ahead of them. The salty smell of the ocean led them through the plants to the sand. Stars peeked through the tiny wisps of clouds that remained in the sky from the storms earlier in the day. The moon shone down on them.
A beautiful night with a beautiful woman.
Peace filled Ryan’s heart. Hints of joy trickled through him. For the first time in what felt like forever his grief had parted. Much like the stars on this night, happiness played peekaboo through the sadness of his past. The goodness in Charla and his want for her parted his heavy sadness. The moon reflected off the ocean.
Ryan stopped walking and turned to Charla. Her beauty stunned him. When he lost Paloma and their future together, he believed that happiness and desire would be forever absent in his life. Charla changed that. Her honesty and her kindness called to him.
He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.
“I feel so close to you,” Charla said. “As though I’ve known you a lifetime, and we’ve only just met. How is that possible?”
In just one night, he’d come to think of Charla as his. There was a force bigger than either of them that propelled them to each other. Like metal to a magnet, her closeness, though desired by him, was more than a choice. Charla was a compulsion.
“You never told me your story.” Her gaze contained more than simple playfulness.
“My story.” Ryan inhaled the salty scent of the sea and the fresh rain-scrubbed air. Where did he start? How did he start? What was best to tell Charla so that he might keep her? Not anger her. Not make her feel used or betrayed.
“You left to escape a marriage, and I left because I didn’t get to be married.”
Her hand fell from his. His palm was suddenly cool and wanting. “So you were in love and she left you?”
“Not because she wanted to leave.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There was a car accident, and I was driving.” An ache pulsed through his chest.
Charla’s hand flew to her lips. “Oh no. Oh …” She looked away from him and toward the ocean as though the pain must be too much for him to bear. “Oh, Ryan, I’m so sorry. How? When? Oh that is just … I don’t really have words.”
“Nor did I, for a very long time. There was rain. It was late. I was tired. I took a turn too fast, not faster than any other night, but on that night with the wet pavement … we slid into an oncoming car.”
Charla’s eyebrows pulled tight. “I can’t imagine.”
“She was beautiful, Charla. You would have loved her. Everyone did.”
“What was her name?”
“Paloma.”
How he’d raced through life always believing they’d have each other well into the dusk of their lives. But they hadn’t.
Ryan hadn’t said Paloma’s name out loud in over a year, but her name felt right on his lips as he told Charla about her, as he let Charla know what had made him and scarred him and hurt him.
“I loved her. I didn’t believe I would love again.” His gaze met Charla’s. “When I stayed with you, when we were together … I hadn’t … Things don’t move this quickly for me. I’m methodical and systematic. I don’t do impulsive well. But with you? Feelings rushed through me, and even though I know that this is happening fast, nothing about it feels impulsive or random. You with me feels right, as though we’re meant to be, as though we were made for each other.”
“I know.”
This moment together, holding hands, was more intimate than last night. My God, had that only been last night? A lifetime of emotions had passed through him on this day, a closeness that had been building as he worked with her for weeks and then exploded into a rightness when he’d taken her into his arms.
“I can’t explain it,” Ryan said.
“I’m kind of afraid to try. I’m scared this is magic that we’ve stumbled upon in paradise, and if I ask too many questions or think too much, the spell will break and this entire moment might slip away.”
His chest tightened with her words. “No, no, no.” This feeling, this woman, couldn’t slip away. Here, now, with Charla, was the first time he’d felt alive in over a year. She made his heartbeat. She caused him to smile. She created a happiness and joy that he’d thought was lost to him for the rest of his life.
He pulled her close, her sweet breath mingling with his. There was so much he needed to tell her, facts she needed to know. They couldn’t build a relationship on a foundation of half-truths. He needed to tell her who he was and why he was at Mesquale. Should she find out his identity on her own, without him telling her, how could she ever forgive him? How could she ever trust him again? How could she—?
“Guys!” Trevor yelled. “Mesquale is on fire!”
Ryan whipped his head toward Mesquale. A blaze flamed through the roof of the resort.
“Oh my God,” Charla whispered.
Ryan started forward and then turned back. “Stay here. Stay with Poppy.” He took off in a run, with Trevor by his side. Mesquale was his. The guests were his responsibility. His feet pounded the sand. Sirens wailed in the distance. He and Trevor sprinted toward the fire consuming Mesquale.
Please God let everyone be all right.
Chapter 11
The sun slipped from the water and climbed into the sky. The blaze was dead. Charla pulled her jacket tighter around her. The scent of burnt wood hovered in the morning air. At first thick and dark, the remnant smoke dissipated into a light gray. The four offices in the administrative section of the main building had been badly burned, but the fire hadn’t spread to the guestrooms or any other Mesquale buildings. The rain earlier that day must have helped keep the blaze in one spot.
“I think that’s everyone,” Poppy said.
Charla and Poppy and several other staff members had set up a waiting area near the staff dorms, far from the main building, so that guests might get a blanket, sit and drink a cup of coffee. They’d raided the staff building for all these items, so while the blankets might not be as fashionable as the ones currently in the guestrooms, they were merely one year old and still Mesquale quality.
“Damn, that could have been so much worse,” Therese dumped coffee grounds into the trash and placed the empty coffeepot into a bus tub.
“So much.” Poppy walked along the tables they’d pulled from the staff commissary. The guests had returned to their rooms and she threw leftover coffee cups into a trash bag she carried. “Has there ever been a fire at Mesquale before?”
“Not that I know of,” Therese said. “Good thing the resort has its own pumper engine. Did you see that little fire truck they brought from Parpetai? If the fire had spread and they tried to get the fire out with that thing? Wow. No way.”
“Must be why the prior owners got one for the resort.”
Charla placed the three coffee machines onto a rolling cart. She’d take them back to the commissary. “I’m heading in.”
“I suppose we’ll hear from Trevor and Ryan in a bit.” Worry edged Poppy’s voice. She glanced toward the main building. No one had cell service on the resort grounds. There was no way to check in with either of them.
“Business as usual today,” Poppy said. “I’m not on until after four. What about you, Therese?”
“I can sleep in. Banana Boat at four. Guess the big kitchen is already prepping for breakfast. Hopefully all the guests will sleep in too.”
“Wonder what caused the fire?” Charla asked.
“Well, hello, beautiful.”
Charla and Poppy both turned toward the voice.
“Trev! You’re okay.” Poppy threw her arms around Trevor’s neck.
His face was dirty, smudged with smoke and soot. He wrapped Poppy in his arms and placed a kiss on her lips. Was Poppy crying? She was in complete denial about how much she cared about Trevor.
“Where’s Ryan?” Charla couldn’t help but interrupt. If Trevor was back from helping with the fire and evacuation of the guestrooms, then Ryan should soon follow.
“He got caught up talking to some firemen after the all-clear. Something he saw in administration. They wanted to talk to him about it. He should be back soon.”
Trevor dipped his head and kissed Poppy again. He pulled away and looked into Poppy’s eyes.
“Charla, I’m going to stay at Trev’s.”
Charla lifted her hand and waved to the couple. They had their arms around each other’s waists and their heads tilted toward one another. Poppy and Trevor were deeply in love. How could a person as smart as Poppy not see that? Or maybe Poppy did know. Maybe she fully understood that her feelings for Trevor weren’t casual. Maybe Poppy’s depth of feeling for Trevor was the very reason why she had already purchased her ticket to Hong Kong for the day after her contract at Mesquale ended.
From the way Trevor and Poppy looked at each other, Charla couldn’t imagine that Poppy would be able to leave or that Trevor would let her go. Poppy and Trevor might be leaving Mesquale in a few months, but they definitely wouldn’t be leaving each other.
Charla pushed the cart toward the staff commissary entrance. Once inside, she unloaded the coffee machines and then left to go to bed. Would Ryan figure out that he was welcome to stay with her since Poppy was staying with Trevor? He had to know that. They’d both talked about their feelings last night when walking back to Mesquale.
So what was this hesitation? This fear? These heavy feelings that were lodged in her chest when it came to Ryan? Perhaps because he’d lost his one true love? Or was it Charla’s fear that Ryan had another truth he needed to share with her? Her own unhealthy desire to turn a blind eye to her doubts for fear that she’d be confronted by lies from the person she loved?
Charla opened the commissary door to leave. Her eyelids were much too heavy and her mind much too foggy with a need for sleep to figure out her doubts about Ryan right now.
*
“Mr. Antigua, we’ve determined that accelerant was used inside your office to start this fire.”
Ryan looked around to be certain it was only he, Antoine, the fire chief, and Steven, Mesquale’s chief of security, who stood in the break room on the edge of the administrative suite of offices. Steven’s gaze slid toward Ryan, but he indicated no surprise at Ryan’s presence.
“Are you saying someone set this fire?” Antoine asked.
“I can’t say that definitively,” Chief Fareani said. “But if I were a guessing man, I would say yes, someone set the fire. We’ll know more once our investigation is complete. I think someone came in here and tried to burn down all of Mesquale, or at the very least your office. Do you have anyone angry with you? With Mesquale?”
Antigua and Ryan locked eyes. “Steven, go get Virgin Airline’s manifest for this morning’s flight off Mesquale. See if Mr. Orso made his plane.”
“Yes, sir,” Steven dipped his head, spoke quietly into the microphone on his wrist and then slipped out of the break room.
“Mr. Antigua?”
“We have an employee who was terminated yesterday, a man who was disgruntled about our decision. Really, if this fire was intentionally set, I can think of no other suspect but him.”
“Let me talk to the police officers on scene,” Chief Fareani said. “They’ll want to know about this employee and where he might be located for questioning.”
Ryan preferred a baseball bat and time to hunt Orso down himself.
Fire Chief Fareani walked out of the break room and toward the door that led outside.
“You realize,” Antoine said to Ryan, “that our chief of security now knows who you are, and if the Parpetai police become involved, you’ll need to reveal your true identity to them.”
“I know.” Ryan only worried about one person finding out before he told her. Charla. He had to tell her now. If she heard of his identity from anyone but him, she might never trust him again.
“Do you believe this was caused by Orso?” Antoine asked.
“If they can prove that accelerant was used, I don’t know who else. Do you? I mean, is there any other person who is this unhappy at Mesquale that they would try to set a fire that might injure hundreds of guests?”
Antoine nodded.
“I’m going to try and get some rest,” Ryan said. “I’m meant to be at The Banana Boat by noon. You need some rest as well. Security and the authorities are on it.” Ryan placed his hands to his hips. “I doubt after last night if many guests will stir before eleven.”
Ryan walked toward the break room door and then stopped and turned back. “And will you please order a pump truck for the village of Parpetai? Identical to the one the resort has.”
The muscle in Antoine’s jaw flexed. “You realize the expense? I believe, from looking at the records, the resort spent close to a million dollars U.S., and that was four years ago.”
“Call my business manager and have it arranged. He’ll send me the necessary papers to approve the expenditure from my personal funds. We can’t have a town of four thousand using that tiny fire truck. Parpetai is home for many of our staff. The town serves Mesquale in many ways. We must serve the town as well.”
“Consider it done.” Antigua smiled. “I think it’s an excellent expenditure.”
“Also, have administrative staff take over the administrative penthouse apartment.”
“That penthouse is meant to be yours. That’s where the owner stays while in residence at Mesquale.”
“I’ve got a place to stay for now, and hopefully even after I come clean about my identity.” He patted Antoine’s shoulder. “Now I’m off to shower and grab some sleep. Please, Antoine, do the same. The next few days could be very long.”
Ryan walked down the hall toward the back entrance and opened the door. The sun brightened the sky. He looked at the roofline of Mesquale. Above the administrative offices there was now a gaping hole where the fire had burned through the roof. Firefighters and a couple police officers poked through debris and kicked pieces of burnt wood. Such a mess. He turned onto the path that led to the staff dorms. He needed to get the smoke smell off his skin and crawl into bed beside a wonderful warm body. He wanted to lay down beside a woman with whom he believed he was in love.
*
Warm lips pressed to Charla’s mouth. He smelled of soap, and his hair was still wet. Her eyes fluttered open. “Ryan,” she whispered. “How’d you get in?”
“Poppy gave me her key. I wanted to surprise you.” He ran his fingers up under her silk nightgown. He cupped her breast. “Too tired?” His His lips kissed along the edge of her jaw and down her neck. Ryan’s thumb circled her taut nipple.
“No, not too tired for you.” Her hips hitched up toward Ryan.
She doubted she’d ever choose sleep over the pleasure of Ryan’s hands on her body. He pulled her silk nightgown over her head, and his lips slipped down the center of her neck and to her right breast. He pulled her nipple deep into his mouth. Hot and wet, he rolled his tongue around her. Want thrummed through her.
His fingertip stroked over her sex. The ache, the desire, clasped her body.
He slid a finger deep into her sex. “Baby, you’re wet for me.”
She was. God, she was. Her sex clenched around his finger. She pulled his sweatpants over his hips. Her hands grasped the hard muscle of his ass. He shifted and kicked off his sweats. His cock, long and thick and hard, was in front of her. She wanted him. She sat up and leaned forward. She stroked down his shaft. His skin was taut and smooth like stretched velvet.
“Oh, Charla,” he whispered, with a long, slow hiss of breath.
She pulled him into her mouth. Her tongue flicked over the tip and licked the salty pre-come from the head of his cock. Shadows of lust clung to his jaw and hooded his eyes. He wanted her.
She took all of him into her mouth. Opening her throat, he slid deep into her throat. Her tongue stroked his shaft and her mouth suctioned tight around him. She slid her lips back from the base of his shaft. Her hands grasped him and followed her lips.
“Charla, oh my God.”
His belly muscles tightened. Again, her tongue swirled around the head of his cock, and she pulled harder with her mouth. His whole body tensed. She pressed her lips back down his shaft, this time faster. His balls were soft and fragile in her hand. With a gentle grasp, she squeezed. His hips moved forward and back, one hand on her shoulder and one hand woven into her hair.
“Oh, Charla, I’m going to come, baby. I’m going to come.”
He moved faster, and she took all of him deep into her throat. His cock pulsed. The vein on the back throbbed. His entire body tightened. The hot, earthy, sweet-salty taste of come jetted into her throat. She swallowed and swallowed again, taking all of him.
“Fuck!”
Ryan fell forward, leaning over her. She pulled her mouth along his shaft, her tongue slowly circling the head of him one final time. His body trembled.
He pulled her up to his mouth and kissed her, then he looked into her eyes. “Baby, that felt so good.”