One Week in Your Arms

by Patricia Preston

  * * *

  Downstairs, in the right wing of the mansion, Carson headed for his indoor swimming pool. Grecian columns stood on either side of the blue pool, supporting a curved ceiling, and wall sconces provided soft lighting. Overhead, glass panels provided a view of the night sky.

  He strode to the end of the diving board. With one bounce, he dove into the warm water. Swimming was a primitive pleasure he enjoyed. He found it to be great exercise and a stress reliever.

  Tonight, he needed the stress relief. He moved through the water using a breaststroke, building his speed with each lap. By his fifth lap, he was swimming fast. He pushed himself to swim harder for a few more laps, and then he began to slow down, letting the water caress him as he did a final lap.

  Breathless, he waded over to the shallow end of the pool where water jets pulsed across a bench seat beneath the water line of the pool. He took a seat and let the water massage his muscles. Despite the peace and tranquility surrounding him, he was not the least bit relaxed.

  An inner voice chided him. Man, you are more screwed up than ever.

  That had become more evident with each passing moment today. He had insisted on buying her clothes like the gorgeous emerald dress that matched her eyes and the slinky black silk number. He wanted to spend money on her, no strings attached, but he could tell he was making her uncomfortable.

  If he had not told her the dresses were necessary for dinner engagements, she would have refused them. And if she weren’t trying to save her clinic, she certainly wouldn’t go to Hawaii with him either.

  She was different now. Just like she said. She had her guard up all the time. She had been pleasant enough while they were together. Polite and sociable, but there was always a palpable barrier in place. A wall that hadn’t been present when they met at Royal Oaks.

  The girl at Royal Oaks had been inviting and open and receptive. She had adored him and wanted him and stole his heart. But she was gone now.

  Dude, you need to call off this charade, send her home in the morning, and move on.

  That’s what he needed to do, but the wheels were already in motion for the trip. All the arrangements were in place. The flight scheduled. Bags packed. The hotel manager knew he was coming. Truman and Julia were expecting him.

  There was no backing out or backing down. He had never done that in his life and he wasn’t going to start now. Besides, it might turn out to be interesting. Even fun.

  It certainly wasn’t every day that such a wonderful opportunity presented itself.

  One week in paradise with a woman who considered him an asshole.

  What more could a man ask for?

  Chapter 6

  “Hi, Mommy!” Sophie’s voice brought a huge smile to Marla’s Hface.

  “Hi, sweetie.” Marla kept her tone hushed as she used a satellite phone on the private jet. She sat on a curved sofa and Carson slept in a recliner. She hadn’t seen him until after breakfast, and he definitely looked haggard as if he’d been up late. Their conversation had been minimal. Once they were settled in the jet, he fell asleep immediately.

  “Where are you?” Sophie wanted to know.

  “I’m in an airplane.” With your father.

  “Up in the sky?”

  “Yeah. For a few hours. Then I’ll be in Hawaii. Nana can show you where I am on the map,” she said. “Like when I showed you where California was, remember?”

  “Yeah. Far away.”

  A pain blossomed in Marla’s chest. “Yes, sweetheart, but Mommy’s heart is there with you. It’ll always be with you.”

  “My heart is with you, too, Mommy.”

  “I know. And anytime you want to call, just tell Nana, okay?”

  “Okay. Nana says we’re gonna leave in the morning for Aunt Lily’s farm.” Her small voice grew excited. “I’m gonna pick eggs right out of the chicken’s basket! Eggs just like the ones we get at the store!”

  Marla laughed aloud, and she saw Carson stir slightly. Quickly, she hushed. “You’ll have a lot of fun and when I get home, I want you to tell me about all the animals.”

  “Okay, Mommy. Papaw wants to talk to you.”

  “Marla, how’s it going?” her father asked.

  She warmed at the sound of her father’s voice. Jimmy Grant was a carpenter by trade. A big man with an equally big heart. “Oh, I’m fine, Dad.”

  “It’s time you took a little time off and rested up.”

  “Yeah.” She glanced at Carson. This trip was not going to be a vacation. There wasn’t one relaxed muscle in her body. Not to mention the way her brain was working overtime to figure out a way to just survive this ordeal and return to a normal life in Lafayette Falls.

  “You hear the one about the old guy on the interstate?” Besides her father being a carpenter, he was the Corny Joke King. “His wife called him on his cell phone and told him to be careful. She’d just heard on the news there was a car going the wrong way on the interstate. He said ‘Heck fire, It ain’t just one car. It’s hundreds of them! ’ ”

  She chuckled, and her father told her he was building Sophie a birdhouse. “Me and Doodlebug are gonna paint it this afternoon.” Her father referred to Sophie by the nickname he’d given her and in the background, Sophie chattered about the birdhouse.

  “She’ll love that.” Marla smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “No thanks needed, honey. You know that.”

  Yes, she knew that.

  Her father had always given his love and his time to his children and grandchildren. He said his family is what got him up in the morning and kept him going. She couldn’t imagine having grown up without such a steadfast and loving dad.

  Yet Sophie was growing up without a father.

  Her gaze shifted to Carson. What kind of father would he be? She quickly dismissed the mental question as a moot point. If Carson wanted a family, he would already have one. Kids tended to complicate one’s social life and tie a person down. That kind of obligation wasn’t for men like him. She couldn’t imagine Carson enjoying the simple lifestyle she and Sophie lived every day.

  She put those thoughts out of her mind as the pilot announced they would be landing shortly. She had to admit she was excited about visiting a true tropical paradise, and Kauai was no disappointment.

  The leisurely drive from the airport in a chauffeur-driven SUV was like a trip into another world. Carson had told her the island of Kauai, known as the Garden Isle, was not as commercial as the other islands. There were no high-rise buildings or large cities clamoring for space. Just small towns and farming communities where fields of rich red-brown earth produced corn, coffee, and sugarcane.

  Kauai was a place that attracted tourists and celebrities who were seeking the natural beauty and tranquility of a remote island paradise. Carson had said several movies had been filmed on the island. She had seen some of them. Avatar, Raiders of the Lost Ark, and Jurassic Park.

  As the narrow two-lane highway curved through valleys of emerald green trees and tall ferns, shadowed by steep volcanic mountains, it looked like Jurassic Park to her. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see a dinosaur, and she was delighted to glimpse a waterfall cascading down a hillside as they crossed a bridge. The deep lushness of the island fascinated her.

  According to Carson, the Kingsford Resort was composed of a luxury hotel with a panoramic view of the ocean and mountains. Plus there was the customary golf course, tennis courts, restaurants, spa, retail gallery, conference center, and various other venues of entertainment as well as a beautiful beach. It was a remote tropical getaway nestled between the mountains and the beach.

  She thought she had a good idea of how Kingsford would look. That was until she saw it. The neoclassical façade of the hotel had an ornate portico supported by Corinthian columns and arched windows. It was a stunning white island palace bathed in sunlight and surrounded by palms and fragrant plumeria trees. She smiled when she recalled having seen Carson’s early sketches of it at Royal Oaks.

  �
��This is the hotel you were designing when we met. You had your sketches with you.”

  “You remember that?” He sounded surprised.

  “Of course, I remember. I thought it was beautiful.” She looked out the window again as the SUV pulled up to the front entrance. “But it’s really gorgeous! I bet it’s exciting, isn’t it?” She turned back to him. “To design something and see it become a reality.”

  “Yeah, it is,” he admitted.

  As she followed Carson into the lobby, she tried not to act like a country girl on her first trip to town even though she was sure she looked like a gawking, awe-struck tourist. She had stayed in a few upscale hotels before. But none of them compared to Kingsford.

  The lobby’s glossy floor had an intricate mosaic design featuring deep, rich island greens. Shards of color spilled from the stained-glass dome overhead and water rippled down the sides of a rock fountain that stood in the center of a goldfish pond. The brightly-colored fish seemed oblivious to the well-heeled humans in the lobby.

  “Mr. Blackwell.” Carson was greeted in the lobby by an older man in a black suit. Carson introduced the man to Marla. “This is Jacob Damaire, the hotel manager.”

  “Dr. Grant, it is my pleasure.” He put a lei of white orchids around her neck. “Welcome to Kauai. I hope you enjoy your stay and if there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

  She touched the fragrant orchids. “Thank you.”

  Maybe this trip wasn’t going to be so bad. Hope rose inside her. This beautiful place was a rare treat and she did want to have fun.

  Carson headed across the lobby toward the elevator. She trotted alongside him. A porter followed, pushing a luggage cart. “Don’t we have to sign in?”

  “No, we don’t have to sign in.”

  “Oh.” Maybe there was some sort of pre-sign in. “You already know the room number?”

  He chuckled. “You could say that.”

  He led the way to the end of a hall where a private elevator waited. It took them to the top floor. The doors slid open and revealed a vestibule where ferns vied for the sunlight pouring through a side window.

  Carson led the way to a dark cherry door and tapped the keypad. The door unlocked, and he pushed it open. He held it for her. “This is the penthouse suite.”

  Marla entered the spacious apartment. The penthouse. She should have known.

  She had expected something sleek and modern in tones of gray because being rich and understated went hand-in-hand. She was surprised to see warm walls, tall ceilings with dark beams, and doorway arches along with tropical plants, bamboo ceiling fans, and decorative ironwork on the walls. She liked the blend of island and Tuscany décor.

  The living area was open and airy. Sunlight poured through the glass wall facing the ocean. A teakwood bar with matching stools separated the living room from the dining room and kitchen. Everything was gleaming and spotless as if the kitchen had never been disturbed by human life. It was like a photo in a magazine.

  All glossy and perfect and illusory.

  She glanced at Carson. She wondered if the same could be said of his life.

  While he tipped the porter, she looked out the glass wall in the living area. A covered gallery hugged the penthouse and a tiled terrace led to a private swimming pool.

  “You have your own swimming pool?”

  “Yes.” He motioned to the gallery where a patio table for four offered a terrific view of the ocean. He explained the gallery was called a lanai on the island.

  “The lanai encircles the penthouse. You’ll have access to it from any room.” He withdrew his vibrating phone from his pocket. “Hey, Truman.”

  While he spoke to his friend, she wandered around the penthouse. “Oh, my,” she remarked as she checked out the electronic kitchen appliances and granite counter tops in dark brownish-gold. Unlike her fridge at home, the stainless-steel refrigerator was free of magnets and notes. The stove looked unused.

  She found a half-bath in the hallway. Continuing down the hall, she found an airy bedroom with mint green walls and whitewashed French furnishings. A canopy of floating netting draped over the headboard of the bed. Folding doors led to a dressing area, walk-in closet, and a full bath. It was enough to make a girl feel like a princess.

  She strolled across the patterned carpet to the glass sliding doors. She opened the slider and stepped outside. On the lanai, she marveled at the view. In the sunlight, tropical foliage created emerald green mountains and the restless ocean was a blend of turquoise and blue. She leaned against the iron railing and enjoyed the warm, moist breeze that swept her hair into the air.

  Carson appeared in the doorway. “I’ll be out for a while,” he said. “I put your luggage next to the dresser. There’s another guest room across the hall. You can take your pick.”

  “Thank you. This room is fine.” She fingered the leis. “Where are you going to stay?”

  “In the master suite,” he answered. His blue eyes pinned her with a cynical gaze. “I would ask you to join me, but I guess that would be picking up where we left off.”

  “Carson—”

  “Don’t,” he cut in. “I got the message last night.”

  “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Really she was.

  “Yeah.” He tapped the doorjamb as he paused in the doorway. “And you don’t have to do any acting except in public.”

  Ouch. His words stung, but then she liked that he had taken what she said seriously, and he was direct with his expectations. This trip might not be such a disaster after all. She might even get to enjoy the oceanfront view.

  “When is my first performance?”

  “We’re meeting the Crawfords for dinner at seven. Wear one of the cocktail dresses.”

  “I won’t disappoint you,” she promised with a pert grin.

  “I know. You took drama in high school.”

  She nodded. “I’ll make you proud.”

  He stared at her for a moment, and then he abruptly left without a word.

  In the living room, she dug her smartphone out of her purse and took interior photos of the penthouse. On the lanai, she snapped scenic photos of the surf and the distant mountains with rain clouds hanging over them. She sent some of the photos to her pal, Kayla, with a text message: Eat your heart out!

  In a few moments, her phone started playing “Material Girl.” It was Kayla.

  OMG! I am so jealous! Talk about a fabulous business trip.

  Like everyone else, Kayla thought Marla was on a fundraising trip for the clinic, which essentially she was. She had never mentioned Carson to Kayla, whom she had met two years ago when Kayla joined the staff at the Lafayette Falls Community Clinic. They were best friends, but there had never been any reason for her to tell Kayla about an old affair that was long over.

  She grinned as she typed: You’d love it! There are hot guys everywhere!

  Shut up!

  I’m kidding. I just got here.

  Have yourself some fun. Go have hot sex on the beach.

  I wouldn’t know what hot sex was if it came up and slapped me in the face.

  I’ve been telling you that you need to get out more. Now, you are out. So make good use of the time. Your vagina will thank you for it. BWHAHAHA! I’ve done 10 pap smears today.

  Marla shook her head.

  I’ll think of you and your speculums while I’m sipping a piña colada and watching the surf roll in.

  Keep me updated!

  I will.

  Marla sent the text and decided she needed to change the background photograph of Sophie on her smartphone. She wanted to keep her phone handy in case of a family emergency, but she didn’t want to worry about Sophie’s picture being seen.

  Quickly, she changed the settings on her phone. She replaced the phone wallpaper with a simple no-frills blue screen. Just like that. Sophie was gone.

  For a moment, terror gripped Marla’s heart. She shook it off. Everything was going to be fine. A week from now he
r life would be back to normal.

  She walked into the penthouse where fresh flowers scented the air and nothing seemed real. Not to her. It was like a stage where a farce was set to unfold, and she had the starring role.

  With a sigh, she headed to the guest room.

  It was time to unpack and get ready for her first performance.

  Chapter 7

  Carson strolled inside the Flamingo, the hotel’s bar and lounge. Like most lounges, there was no overhead lighting. Spotlights cast a glow on the wall where recessed digital photographs featured the waterfalls, the beaches, and the caves of Kauai. Definitely paradise for island lovers.

  He walked over to the glossy black bar and motioned for the bartender. He ordered a margarita to drink while he waited for Truman. Due to the early hour, the bar was quiet. A group of golfers had staked out a couple of tables, and three guys were watching a baseball game on the eighty-inch television screen attached to the rear wall.

  Carson selected a table in a quiet corner. Sitting at the table, he took a sip of his margarita and considered his objectives. So far, so good. He thought he’d handled things well. She knew what he expected from her and what he didn’t.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked his email. He had a couple of business emails he needed to answer when he got back to the penthouse. Nothing else was urgent. While scrolling through the latest figures from the stock market, his phone chirped and a text message from someone named Kristen appeared.

  Leaving London tomorrow. Just wanted to let U know I broke up with Justin.

  Carson thought a moment and he recalled a girl he’d gone out with a couple of months ago. She hadn’t told him until after dinner that she was living with a guy. Shit, he’d forgotten to delete her number.

  He answered her message. I’m seeing someone now.

  Oh. If U break up, U have my number.

  “Sure,” he muttered. He deleted Kristen’s phone number and lifted his glass in a mock toast to himself and his fake girlfriend, Marla, before taking a drink.

  “Hey, Carson.” Truman walked over to the table. Truman was one of those self-made men, who had been tough in his youth, but he’d mellowed out with time. He loved hearty meals, which had put extra pounds on him. His white hair was still thick and his skin had been permanently darkened by the Texas sun.