As she was leaving the little office the harbor master called after her, "Don't you need a captain?"
Lydia simply rolled her eyes and made her way down the pier.
She gazed in amazement at all the beautiful boats docked here. She envied the owners of each one, even the crappy little sail boats. At least someone got to own it and use it here in this stunning area of the world.
She located her rental, 'The Feisty One', and coughed a laugh. "Really? This is going to look professional." She climbed aboard, and made her way up to the open top bridge.
She dropped her bag and the cooler and immediately got out her phone. She texted the name of the ship to Mary, back in New York. Then she went below, using the key to open the main hatch. A quick survey told her everything was clean and in order.
Well, at least I have that going for me.
As she was loading up the little fridge with drinks Mary texted her back.
'Messaged relayed and big B confirmed.' Big B was what Mary was referring Paul Morgan as. Big Billionaire.
'The Feisty One? Is that name serious?' Mary sent.
Lydia texted back, 'Yup. Wish me luck.'
'I wish for you a big fat commission!' Mary returned.
Lydia could only laugh. It was okay for Mary to be excited about this potential deal. It was a little infectious, now that she thought about it. But she couldn't get too giddy. She needed to act professional.
Or at least pretend to.
She moved up to the bridge and started to check the equipment. After a short while someone called from below. "Hello, there!"
Lydia had to lean over to see who it was.
There was a man standing on the wharf, smiling up at her.
Oh, God. He's here! So soon!
Slightly flustered at being caught not fully prepared she said, "Yes! One moment!"
She leaned back, and quickly gave the bridge a visual once over.
He's here. This is happening. It really is happening!
She shook her head to clear her mind of Mary's gabbling voice, then climbed down the short ladder to the main deck.
She turned to look at him.
He was tall, muscular, and deeply tanned. His dark hair was short and cropped. He was wearing a simple pale blue buttoned collared shirt, and pale white cargo pants.
He grinned at her from behind his dark sunglasses. His teeth were bright to the point of being blinding.
"Hello," he said, again.
She was caught off guard. Sweet Lord, he was devastatingly handsome.
When she didn't respond immediately, the man hoisted an eyebrow at her in mild concern. "Oh, yes," he said. "I almost forgot." He removed his sunglasses and the picture was now complete.
Somewhere, deep inside her, Lydia felt her soul move.
Wow. Just... Wow.
Then, the man started to sing.
"The Rain In Spain Falls Mainly On The Plain." And as if this was the most normal thing to do, the man kept smiling at her.
Uh. What? Her mind managed to ask. Here she was in an island paradise being serenaded by a drop dead gorgeous billionaire. The very thought caused her head to spin.
When she didn't respond the man started to look a little worried, his expression one of slight alarm. It made him look endearing.
"The password. Wasn't that the password phrase we agreed on?" he asked.
"Password phrase?" Lydia asked.
"Yeah, so you know it is really me?"
Lydia suddenly felt like she was just smacked by Mary clear across from New York. "Right! Shoot! Sorry, I completely forgot!" And she had. How were you to know if this man really was the reclusive billionaire unless some sort of word or phrase were used. Mary had agreed to it before, but Lydia had forgot in the moment.
And looking at this Man-God up close, who could blame her.
"Permission to come aboard?" he asked. There was the tiniest hesitation, as if maybe he shouldn't board with this potentially crazy Realtor woman present.
"Yes," she said. "Please. Permission granted."
He stepped over the edge and onto the deck. Lydia tried not to ogle the muscular thighs that peaked out from under his shorts, and failed.
Once aboard, he offered his hand to her. "Hi, Paul Morgan," he said, making things more or less official.
Lydia shook his hand. "Lydia Jennings. Nice to finally meet you." At least she hoped that were the words spilling out of her mouth. She was still a little taken aback at how damn fine Paul Morgan looked.
And while shaking his hand she found she could only hold one thought in her head at that very moment: Thank God his name isn't Terry!
Chapter 3
Paul
Well, this trip is certainly off to a good start, Paul thought to himself while shaking Lydia's hand.
He found her stunningly attractive. Curves in all the right places, just the way he liked it. And she had a bright, beautiful smile.
But perhaps a little twitchy, he thought. Maybe it was just nerves. He was use to that. People usually got nervous or twitchy around him once they realize who he was. And how much he was worth.
He hoped she was more nerves than twitchiness.
But, boy, was she beautiful.
Once he realized he was still shaking her hand, he withdrew his, almost regretfully. He looked around.
"So, this is our ride?" he asked.
It appeared she took a moment to compose herself before answering. "Yup, reserved it yesterday after we got the call from your assistant. It was the best they had on such short notice." She looked apologetic.
Paul smiled at her, wanting to ease her mind. "No worries. Just as long as it doesn't sink it will do just fine."
They laughed together. Her laugh came easy and was pleasant on the ears.
"Would you like a drink, or snack? I was going to untie us so we could be off."
Paul held up his hands. "Actually, I can help with that. Allow me to handle the ropes."
And to her surprised expression, he hoped off the boat and back onto the dock. As he walked over to the first rope holding the boat to the dock, he glanced back at her. She was still standing in the same spot, looking more than a little amazed.
Yes, he thought, billionaires can untie ropes.
She seemed to snap out of her trance, smiled and quickly climbed up to the open bridge.
He watched her butt as she did this with interest.
Curves are underrated, he thought. And this woman has plenty of them.
As he uncoiled the thick rope from its mooring, he was hit with and sudden flash of Rebeca, his ex-girlfriend. She liked boats, too. So much so that she practically demanded he buy one for her. Like a smitten fool, he did, even though he didn't like it. Not only was it expensive, it hadn't been something he intended for her.
She was always demanding things. It hadn't started out that way. They had met at a friend's party, and she practically zeroed in on him from the moment he arrived. Like a heat seeking missile. Or a money seeking missile, as it turned out to be.
Once the mooring was untied he threw it into the back of the boat, then moved up to undo the front one. As he passed the bridge he glanced up at Lydia.
All he could see was her upper profile, and it did wonders for his mood. Lydia sort of reminded him of Rebeca. In a way.
Lydia noticed him looking and smiled. "Got that, okay?" she called out to him.
"Oh," he said, bringing his thoughts back to the task at hand. "Yeah, I got it." He undid the mooring, coiled it quickly and tossed it onto the boat.
Stop thinking about the one gold digger that got to you, he thought. There are more important things for your brain to be focused on right now. Like buying an island.
Once he was sure everything was fine, he came back to the middle of the boat and stepped over. Just then Lydia fired up the engines and the huge twin motors roared to life.
Paul quickly scampered up the step ladder to the bridge. Lydia had all the electronics turned on, and was concentrati
ng on pulling the boat away from the pier. Other docked ships crowded around them, but Lydia seemed skilled enough to handle the situation.
Standing this close to her, he noticed how short she was compared to him. He was tall enough already. He found himself smiling. Short was good. Real good.
He found himself dawning his sunglasses, so she couldn't see where he was looking. He turned back, nonchalantly, and watched the dock, and all its ships, pull away from them.
If Rebeca was here, she would want him to buy all the ships in the bay. Or maybe the whole island nation. He frowned.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Lydia asked. She was casting glances in his direction, but keeping her main attention to where she was going. Like a good captain should.
He gave her a big smile, his eyes taking her in completely from the safety of his sunglasses. She really was a sight to behold. "Yes," he said finally. "It is very beautiful." He found he was not talking about the island.
As if she didn't notice the intensity of his gaze she asked, "So, how long have you been looking?"
"Looking?" Was he that obvious? Staring at her?
"For an island? There aren't that many left to be had. I figured you must have been looking for a while."
"Oh," he said, turning so he was angled to see where they were headed. Vast blue ocean stretched out before them. He pondered his response. "Well, to be honest, I've been doing this for quite a long time."
"Looking for an island?"
"Buying them."
This took Lydia aback, and her eyebrows shot up from behind her sunglasses. She laughed. "Really? This isn't your first?"
"I have nine, currently."
"Nine islands! My God. That's more than some countries could say."
He found he was looking for an edge to her voice, something that indicated there was more to her comment than just genuine surprise. But he could find any.
Stop being such a suspicious jerk, he thought. Ever since he broke up with Rebeca he realized that the presence of other women, no, other people, made him slightly paranoid. He was starting to assume that because Rebeca wanted everything from him, then everyone wanted everything from him, too.
Lydia seemed to sense he was lost in thought. "Sorry, I didn't mean to blurt that out loud." She must of confused his silence with annoyance.
He hurried to ease her mind. "Not at all!" he said, with a laugh he hoped sounded as genuine as it was. "I find it kind of surprising, too, myself. It's not a common hobby." He grinned.
She laughed at this, and he was relieved to see he hadn't made her uncomfortable. Making her uncomfortable was the furthest thing he wanted to make her feel.
"No, I don't think it is. My sister, Mary, collects little crystal pigs. And those can get expensive. I can't quite get my mind around collecting anything that people and buildings could stand on."
Still smiling, Paul shrugged. "I love nature. I love the ocean. And more importantly, I love being away from cities. Islands seemed like the perfect idea."
"Resorts?" she asked.
"Pardon?" The motors were very loud, so he had to practically shout at each other.
"Are you going to build resorts on them? Like Yagenda has?"
"No, not at all. Each island I purchase gets assessed for its natural properties. Its flora and fauna. Then I have my lawyers work on getting them earmarked as nature preserves."
This seemed to take Lydia by surprise. Thankfully, her shocked expression quickly morphed into one of joy, complete with that incredible smile. "Really? That's amazing! So all your islands are nature preserves?"
"Nearly all of them. Some still need to go through the legal hoops. The idea is that as long as they are privately owned, then they will no longer be at risk for development. I want them left alone more or less."
Lydia was nodding in agreement, her smile growing wider. "Well, count me surprised. I thought because of the resort here, that you were interested in bringing it back up to snuff."
"Well, I might, but not for tourists, or any kind of profit making ventures. I was thinking the resort here could be converted into maybe a lab of some sort. For studying the island plant life and animals. Also, maybe the jumping off point for an oceanographic society." Saying the words out loud made him feel a tad sheepish. He was still with Rebeca when he started this silly idea, and had purchased his first two islands. When Rebeca realized his intent, she was almost furious with him.
Think of the money you could be making! She had practically screamed. Rich tourists love islands. And they are willing to pay big bucks to go sit on them. And you want to just... what? Do nothing with them?
He had stood resolute. It was something he felt passionately about, regardless of what she said. But she would have none of it.
If your going to waste them then at least let me have them, she had said. I could be turning a profit on each one within a year. Easy!
He had been aghast, and a little saddened at her attitude. Now she was demanding islands from him?
He had had enough and they broke up almost on the spot.
"A swanky lab for scientists and oceanographers?" Lydia said, bringing him back from his dark thoughts. "I like that idea. I really, really like that idea!" She was grinning from ear to ear, and looking directly at him, as if seeing him for the very first time.
Paul found he wanted to be in her gaze for a long time.
Suddenly, she pointed. "Hey, there it is. Yagenda Island!"
He turned to look. The profile of an island took up most of the horizon. From here, he could make out the lush jungle that seemed to encompass it entirely. One end, the south portion, had a higher elevation of hills than the north. A nearly unbroken line of white beach met the lapping blue waves of the ocean.
It was stunning.
"The resort is on the north side, in a bay. It will take us about twenty minutes to get there," she said.
"Take you time," he said. He was enjoying the view. He snuck a sideways glance in her direction. And not just of the island.
If she noticed his attention on her she didn't say anything. Instead, she pointed past them on the horizon, further out to sea.
"That looks to be the only other ship in the entire area. If you were looking for a place of isolation, this place certainly fits the bill."
He squinted at the distant ship, then cast his gaze all around them. Sure enough, there were no other boats at all.
Perfect.
Again, he found himself looking more at Lydia than the island jewel.
Who was this woman? What was her story? He found her really wanted answers to those questions. More than anything at that moment.
Whoa, easy buddy, he thought. A rebound situation would not be good right now. Not what you need. Just focus on the work at hand. Its the best thing for you.
But glancing at Lydia, he didn't think that thought process would hold for very long.
As they steered around the the island, toward the bay, Lydia took time to point out some features, and talk about the island's history. Paul took all this in, but only politely. He just liked hearing her talk. Watch her expressions, and the way she moved.
Soon, they entered the north bay. At its deepest point was a line of buildings, mostly resort rooms made to look like oversized huts. And above them, spread almost majestically was the main resort building. The Island Pearl Resort.
Lydia deftly manoeuvred them up to the only dock, which was covered in debris.
"I got this," Paul said, and scrambled down to the deck and grabbed the ships front rope. Once they were close enough, he hoped easily across to the dock, and he tied it to the moor. He then did the same to the rear one, as Lydia cut the engine.
No one came out to greet them. Nor were there any sounds, at least man made. They appeared to be completely alone.
Lydia jumped over onto the dock, clutching a bag stuffed with what looked to be Realtor related stuff.
As she landed, she slipped, and Paul quickly caught her in both arms.
"Are you okay?" he asked, enjoying this little movie moment.
"Yeah!" she said, laughing nervously as he let her go. "I'm just fine. Thank you." She seemed to appreciate his proximity more than he expected.
They turned to take in the island and the resort. Lush green jungle crowded in all around. Water lapped at the bay's white beach. The resort and all its buildings seemed to beckon to them.
Tropical Trouble (Billionaire Romance) Page 2