She let out a contented sigh, smiled and snuggled closer to him.
If there was such a thing as the perfect moment, then this was it. Perfect. Like the duration of their time on Makana. No more incidents, and nobody to stand in their way.
Chapter Seventeen
“Earn cash in your spare time—blackmail your friends
or enemies—whatever works.”
—Crystal Washington
“The captain is now preparing for takeoff. Please turn off all electronic devices…”
Crystal cupped her hand against her ear to block out the flight attendant’s speech, and continued her conversation on her cell phone. “I’m on the red eye. There’s a quick stop in LA, we land on Makana at eight-oh-five a.m. your time. Send a limo for me—”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing coming down here?” Victor’s voice boomed so loud, Crystal had to move her cell phone away from her ear. “You’re not needed—”
“Au contraire. I am needed.” She stifled a cynical laugh. After all, she didn’t want to piss him off too much. “Don’t worry about the limo. You can pick me up.”
“I had no intention of arranging a limo for you. We had a deal. You stay far away from here.” His voice shook. “You’re going to get us both in a shitload of trouble.”
She nodded to the flight attendant, who was telling her to end the call and shut her cell phone. “Hold on to your wings, hon, I’ll be finished when I’m finished.”
“What?” Victor asked.
“Not you.” She gave the hovering flight attendant a dismissive look. Didn’t work. She still stood there with her hands on her hips. She turned back to her call. “I won’t implicate you.” She paused for a few beats. “Unless, of course, I have to.” With that, she turned off her cell phone and looked up at the flight attendant, whose nametag indicated her name was Stella.
“Stella, be a dear and stick my laptop up,—” she handed the flight attendant the machine, “—on top, of course.” She straightened in her seat and crossed her legs.
Stella took the laptop, giving her a you’re-such-a-bitch-lady look, before putting it in the overhead and going to her own seat.
Crystal flipped through a magazine, smiling to herself. She’d been called a cold, calculating bitch many times, and each time, she took it as a compliment. She believed that women should wear that title as a badge of honor instead of an insult. She’d worked hard for it, earned it and it had given her the confidence to do her job. Even though it was a job she’d never wanted in the first place and didn’t want any longer. But after the scandal, it had been better than starting over as an intern, writing wedding and anniversary announcements. She shuddered at that thought.
The plane sped away on the runway, matching the force of her adrenaline at the thought of finally getting her revenge for the humiliation she’d suffered. In the process, she was going to become even richer, but it wasn’t only about the money—that was just a bonus. She’d worked her ass off years ago to become a highly acclaimed journalist, only to be overlooked time and time again when it came to promotions and elite assignments. She would have won a Pulitzer, had that bastard ex-lover of hers not screwed her over. Yes, she had made a mistake, but she hadn’t been the only one involved and she’d never gotten to redeem herself in the industry, like he had.
She took a deep breath as the plane took flight. She dug the file out of her purse, and read through it one more time, her spirits soaring as high as the plane. Donovan, you are getting sloppy, this was way too easy. You can kiss that career you love buh bye. Especially after your juvenile stunt is exposed for everyone to read.
Flipping through the paperwork, she shook her head. Looked like Donovan was losing his touch. It was obvious he hadn’t done enough homework on this one. How could he have overlooked the scandals, lies and manipulation right under his nose? She couldn’t get over the fact that he wasn’t on top of his game. He could have warned his friend why she was being sent to Hawaii. Of course, he had been in the Middle East and hadn’t had a lot of time between that assignment and this one, but still, he had been in New York off and on between assignments and she knew him enough to know that he never let anything get past his radar.
At first, she herself had only worked on a hunch, then used her well-perfected bluffing technique, called in a few favors, greased a few palms and voila, she unearthed more than one secret. As soon as she cracked the whole story, she’d collect from the highest bidder, putting her back in the journalism game. She had a lot of bargaining power in her possession. Some would call it blackmail. Didn’t matter, the end result was that she got what she wanted and Donovan would finally pay for backstabbing her.
“…experiencing some turbulence…” the captain’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
This turbulence was nothing compared to the rough ride her ex-lover-turned-nemesis was about to have.
“Where the hell is Madison Saunders now?” Victor popped another antacid into his mouth. Holy Mother of God, why had he turned into a greedy asshole? Maxwell Hollister paid him a hefty salary and bankrolled his PI staff. But he had skimmed from the top and hired idiots who couldn’t track a skunk even if it pissed all over them.
“I think she’s in her suite.” The idiot smacked gum on the other end of the line. “I’m standing under her balcony and from what I can see, it’s dark inside.”
“What do you mean you think?” Victor paced and tried to contain his temper, which had been ignited by Crystal Washington’s impending arrival. Damn that broad. He stared at the open bottle of vodka. “Okay, let me get this straight. You followed Ms. Saunders out of the Mad Monkey Nightclub and she was with Leslie Brigham, right? They left there and then where did they go?”
“Yah, then they went to the Sand Bar. It was crowded but I kept a watch on them. They were dancing last I saw them. I went for a piss, when I got back they were both gone.”
Victor drank a mouthful of vodka straight from the bottle. “What about Brigham’s house? Did you check that out?”
“Yah, I drove by there. Car’s in the driveway and no lights on. So I came here to see if lights are on in her room. Like I said, it’s dark up here too.”
Victor took another swig of vodka. “Are you sure Donovan didn’t follow them?”
“That I’m sure of.” He sounded like he was so proud of himself. “In fact, I think he’s on his balcony up there with some chick. I hear laughing, but can’t see anything.”
Bile rose in Victor’s throat. He should have known better than to drink on a stomach filled only with antacids. “What chick?”
“Don’t know, but hey, I got an idea. I still have a uniform so I can go and deliver towels to his room.”
“At midnight?” Victor broke the roll of antacids he’d been clutching in his hand. “No, that won’t tip him off that he’s still being followed.”
“Boss, relax. It’s not that Saunders woman with him. I know that for sure. Donovan was nowhere near the Sand Bar.” He sounded proud of himself again. “Can I go now? I’m getting a cramp in my leg, squatting in these bushes. Last time, she almost saw us.”
“Us?”
“Yah, I took my girlfriend. Thought it would look better, you know. But don’t worry, I didn’t tell her anything.”
Victor walked into the bathroom to get the Dramamine out of the medicine cabinet. “Okay. I already reported back that Donovan’s not with her.” He’d wait before telling Hollister she may be spending the night with Brigham.
He popped two Dramamines into his mouth, chasing them down with vodka.
“Boss, what does your boss want with this Saunders chick? She looks young enough to be his granddaughter. And why does he wanna know everywhere this Donovan guy goes?”
“You don’t get paid to ask questions.” He hung up the phone.
Good thing his wife was in San Fran on a shopping spre
e for a few weeks. He didn’t need her constant nagging about his recent drinking binges. Screw it, when life hands you lemons then you add vodka and ice. And the hell with her. This mess he’d gotten himself into was mostly her fault. She believed in sharing the wealth…with jewelry stores, designers, thousand dollar shoes and purses. He wanted to keep her happy. Yeah, okay, working for people so rich their kids were on Little League Polo teams brought out his own thirst for champagne wishes and fuckin’ caviar dreams. It was hard to resist the temptation of cashing in on a few tidbits of information. Seemed harmless at the time. One tidbit had led to another, until it all spiraled out of control.
Okay, gotta calm down. Washington did say she wouldn’t out Hollister’s secret without giving me a heads up so I can get the hell out of Dodge.
He flung himself on his bed, concentrating on letting the booze and Dramamine work their magic. With any luck, they’d knock him out until morning. Maybe when he woke up, he’d realize that the past few months had all been a nightmare, and he wasn’t a scheming, disloyal cheater who had sold out Maxwell Hollister’s trust for money or set up two people who had no damn idea their lives were about to be turned to shit right in front of the whole world. Most of all, he hoped his boss would never discover his betrayal.
Good thing he was lying down, because he felt like he’d been given a brain wedgie. A stabbing pain sliced up and down the middle of his head. The room spun fast with the walls closing in on him. Okay, he had to be reasonable. He didn’t work for the mob, to whom a betrayal meant he would be turned into whale snack. Right? Jesus, he didn’t know anymore.
Paradise my Aunt Franny’s wrinkled old ass.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
Chapter Eighteen
“Taking joy in living is a woman’s best cosmetic.”
—Rosalind Russell
“Yes…faster, Alex…faster…please,” Maddie moaned, breathing hard. “Mmmm. Right there.” She let out a loud sigh. “Or-gas-mic.”
Alex chuckled and popped another Milk Dud into her mouth. “Smart ass.”
“It’s cheap entertainment.” She kissed his chin and dug into the box of Milk Duds, slipping one into his mouth. “Suck on it slowly. You’ll see what I mean.”
They lay cuddled on a lounge chair on Alex’s balcony. After their lovemaking, Maddie’s sweet tooth had kicked in. They’d gone out in search of red licorice and Milk Duds. On their walk, they discovered a small inlet between two rock facades, surrounded by tall trees and lush undergrowth. They made love in that private oasis, with the scent of frangipani blossoms in the breezy night air and the sound of water cascading from a waterfall into a nearby pond.
This was one trip he’d never forget. Her sweet kisses, her touch, the feel of her skin on his and especially how her hips had met his in perfect harmony.
Now, she lay half on top of him and half beside him, feasting on Milk Duds, wearing only his old Yankees sweatshirt which was two sizes too big for her, with her hair tangled every which way. Her pretty face was free of the makeup he had kissed off of her, and she had never looked more beautiful.
She put the empty box of chocolate aside and gave him a look he recognized—the Maddie-is-full-of-questions-but-doesn’t-know-where-to-begin look.
He pulled her closer to his chest and rested his chin on her forehead. “Ask away.”
“I was wondering. You know, was I…was I okay?”
“No, not okay.” He kissed the top of her head. “More like amazing.”
She reached over and grabbed the bag of licorice. He waited for a response or eye contact, but she stared straight ahead.
He nudged her. “Hey, did you hear what I said?”
She slipped a piece of licorice out of the package. “Oh, sorry, what did you say?”
“I said you were amazing.”
“Oh that. I heard you the first time.” She giggled. “I wanted to hear it again.”
He tickled her until she cried Uncle. Out of breath and still laughing, she said, “And I’ll give you a standing ovulation.”
“Ovulation?” He sat up and almost knocked her off the chair. “What?”
“Holy jumpin’. You should see your face.” She smacked him on the head with the licorice. “Dork. I’m on the pill, and you wore a condom.”
He lay back, wrapped his arm around her and gave her a light tap on her ass.
“Mmmm. Spanking and candy. I may have another orgasm.” She yawned. “Feels like I’ve had a massage from the inside out.”
“Ready for sleep?”
“Not yet.” She snuggled closer to him. “What happened to the model tonight? I wasn’t going to knock on your door because I thought you two were together. But I was too pissed to care if I interrupted.”
Not exactly the kind of pillow talk he had in mind. “I’m not her type.”
“You’re not her type?”
“Apparently.”
“I see.” She lifted her head and squinted at him. “But she’s your type, and she ditched you? Not the other way around?”
“Oh shit, is this is one of those question-and-answer sessions where I get screwed, and not literally, no matter what I say?”
She pushed against his chest, got up, opened the patio door and disappeared inside.
“Dammit.” He got up and followed her inside. “It wasn’t like that. Come here.”
She ran into his bedroom and slammed the door.
He opened the door and ducked as a pillow flew by, missing his head and landing on the floor.
Laughing, she grabbed another pillow, hopped on the bed and swung it at him. He managed to avoid that swing while he bent to pick up the fallen pillow. He stood, and she hammered him with the pillow. He swung back with his, but she jumped out of the way.
“Come on, Alex, let’s practice your swing. Follow my lead.” Jumping up and down on the bed, still laughing, she parroted the golf lesson he had given her. “Pay attention to my instructions this time.” She continued to pummel him. “You swing like a girl.”
“That does it.” He yanked the pillow away from her, jumped on the bed, tackled her, and pinned her down. He seriously could not remember the last time he felt this carefree.
They stripped naked and indulged in mouthwatering kisses and lovemaking that left them both breathless. They slipped under the covers, facing each other, Alex smiled as Maddie told him the behind-the-scenes story of her latest travel book—There’s No Chocolate Factory On the Road Less Traveled. He enjoyed listening to her voice. A voice that was soothing and sexy all at the same time, especially when she sang.
She didn’t ask about his last assignment. He knew that if he did want to talk about it, she was a great listener. He was happy listening to her, especially her anecdotes about some of the people she’d met in her travels. Which reminded him of one particular person she’d met on this assignment—Leslie. After all, she did ask about what’s her name? Model girl. He couldn’t remember the blonde’s name.
“I’m curious about something,” he said. “What happened to Leslie?”
She giggled. “If I wasn’t so mad at you at the bar, it would have been funny the way you kept saying his name. Turns out, I’m not Les’s type.”
He hiked his eyebrows and was about to say, I see, when she covered his mouth with her hand. “Don’t even go there. We went to another bar, and we danced. I should say I danced. His eyes were glued to any woman with beach-ball boobs. He didn’t even try to hide it.”
“The guy’s a moron.” He kissed her breasts.
She ran her hand through his hair. “I think he knew I wasn’t into him.” She yawned. “I have another question for you.”
He lifted himself on his elbow. “Shoot.”
“What about Natalie? What’s the deal with her?”
“Yeah, I meant to ask you about that. You mentioned her back at the
bar. There is no deal, why?”
“Yesterday, when you went back into the jewelry store to get her phone number and ask her out, it pissed me off, because you kept rejecting me, and right or wrong, it’s how I felt—”
“Whoa, phone number? Ask her out?” Now he understood. He stifled a grin. “Is that why you were steamed at me this afternoon?”
“That was one of the reasons.”
“I didn’t ask for her phone number. Never asked her out.” He lifted her chin and leaned his head close to hers. “I wasn’t trying to pick her up. You’re going to have to trust me on this one.”
She looked straight at him with a seriousness she rarely exhibited. “I do trust you. Always have.”
He swallowed a lump in his throat. He knew those words were not easy for Maddie to say to anyone, let alone a guy. He laid his head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. What the Christ had he done? Yeah, she said she was fine with having sex without strings, but she trusted him. George Saunders trusted him. Even though the old codger was a hard ass and Alex still had a shitload of questions for him, his radar had always told him that in his own way, George loved Maddie. He had asked Alex to keep an eye on his niece, because he’d heard the resort was filled with rich, slick assholes. Of course George recognized that Maddie was a young woman with an independent and intelligent spirit, but screwed up family dynamics or not, she was his niece and Alex was sure that George wouldn’t be high-fiving him right about now.
He rubbed the back of his neck, and, sucking in a deep breath, he turned his head. Maddie had her back to him and her even breathing told him she was out cold. He smiled as he took in the sight of one foot slung over the side of the bed, the other showing her cute pink-tinted toes peeking out from beneath the covers, toes he had kissed one by one. She’d hijacked the majority of the sheet and blanket, now bunched against her middle. He stifled a groan as his gaze rested on the dip at the bottom of her back, and he remembered how he’d savored and caressed every inch of her. Their lovemaking had brought him more pleasure than he could have imagined, and even after berating himself, once more listing the reasons why this was such a bad idea, he wanted her again.
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