It was quite amazing to look at, he thought. And again, his eyes were drawn to Lydia.
She seemed equally impressed with the island. "Wow. Quite the sight. So, any first impressions?"
He removed his sunglasses so she could see his eyes were firmly fixed onto hers. "My impression," he said, "is that I may have found more than I was expecting on this trip."
Chapter 4
Lydia
Did he just make a pass at me?
Lydia was stunned. She managed to blink out of her shock and return his smile. She guessed he was complimenting her, and she found that she liked it.
"I'm glad to hear it," she said for lack of a better response. What else do you say when a single, handsome billionaire tells you something like that?
Then, without thinking, she said, "I like to know that my clients are happy."
What the heck did I just say? She thought. She mentally scolded herself. Now he must think she was this eager to flirt with all her clients.
Paul seemed to sense her inner conflict, and said, "Well, I'm most certain that I may be the first client to truly mean it." Again, that easy smile. He turned toward the resort, and Lydia found herself breathing again.
"Shall we look around?" he asked.
"You bet," she said, glad the subject had changed. Keep it together girl! She fumbled out a folded laminated map of the resort. "You'll have to excuse me as I haven't the chance to be here before, so I can't go by memory."
"And here I was getting use to the idea that you were perfect," he said, grinning.
Oh, my God, he needs to stop that! She thought with alarm. But she found his flirtatious talk refreshing. And welcome. Terry almost never flirted with her. He was too lazy, and it wasn't in his programming to show any appreciation for a woman. Let alone her.
She chuckled and unfolded the map. From the dock, it was an easy walk through the first set of bungalows, and to the resort's front doors.
"Lead the way," he said. He had taken out his smart phone, which was a model she had never seen before, and was taking pictures.
They walked down the long dock, which was devoid of any features save for their own ship. The clomping of their feet on the old wood was the loudest sound. Just the rustling of the leaves in the trees and the occasional sound of water lapping against the dock was all that could be heard.
"Very peaceful," Paul said, as if reading her mind. "I like that there is no one here. No tourists, anyway."
"Yeah," she said in agreement. It was quite nice. Especially after almost an hour of the boat motors roaring in her ears. Without tourists, or staff, this place was a calm paradise.
I could live here, she found herself thinking. Maybe I could learn to be an Oceanographer, or study birds, or something. She glanced at Paul who was taking a picture of one of the bungalows. Maybe, if he bought this place, I could manage some type of position here.
The thought of the word position, and multiples, and the image of Paul's naked form pressed up against her suddenly flashed in her mind. It brought her up short. She found the thought very pleasant.
Paul noticed her stop suddenly. "Everything okay?" he asked. There was genuine concern in his voice.
Lydia found herself feeling flush, as if Paul could see what she had just imagined. "No, just fine, thank you," she managed. "Maybe just a little hot," she said. Hot because of him!
"I forgot to bring water," he said, and turned toward the boat. "I'll grab you a bottle."
"No that's okay. I have one here," she said. She quickly fished a plastic bottle of water out of her day bag and unscrewed the top. As she sipped she tried to get her mind back on track. Naked, sexy billionaires were nice to think about, but she had an island to sell.
Keep it together, and make this sale. Mary would kill her if she found out that her sister couldn't close a potential sale of this size because she allowed herself to become smitten with the client.
She envisioned Mary's look of disappointment, and it brought her back to reality.
She placed the bottle back into the bag. "Shall we continue," she asked.
Paul smiled and nodded. "Lead the way."
They walked off the docks and onto a cobblestone path that lead one way into the clutter of bungalows and the other direction up toward the resorts main building. Paul indicated the direction of the main complex and they sauntered up the path.
Various bungalows and service buildings lined their way, but everything was widely spaced. All of them were locked and the windows sealed to keep the elements from getting inside. But it was quite obvious that nothing else had been done since, especially any upkeep.
Dirt, leaves and other debris cluttered the pathway. Paul playfully kicked aside a coconut out of their way.
"It looks like the insurance company didn't bother to spend any money for keeping things clean here," Paul said.
Lydia was relieved that he didn't say she, and her sister's company were responsible. "No, I guess not," she said, a little embarrassed. "After the original owners went belly up, the bank moved in. Afraid they would be stuck with something as large as an island and its resort they quickly sold to an insurance company, which for whatever reason, saw a way to turn a profit. But it looks like even they didn't want to spend any more than they had to."
"No security?" Paul asked.
Lydia shook her head, as she navigated around a small fallen tree that lay across the pathway. "None. Just a lot of locks and chains I guess."
"So there is no one else on the entire island?" He asked. "Except us two castaways?"
Again, Lydia felt the beginnings of a flush up her neck. "Not any more. The bank did, more out of necessity, I think. Once word got out the resort was closed they had some regular security guards. But once it changed hands to the insurance company, that ended. So, yes," she said, glancing at him almost shyly, "We are the only people on the entire island. Or should be, at least."
Paul was smiling. Almost mischievously. "I like the thought of that."
As Lydia was trying to interpret what that phrase could possibly mean, beyond the obvious, they came upon the resort building's front entrance. Huge double doors towered above them. Wrapped around the doors' pull handles, was a thick chain. At its center was a gigantic padlock. It was almost comical in size.
"Well, it doesn't look like anyone broke it," Lydia said, with a sense of professional relief. She would have had strong words with the insurance company if she had arrived to find the whole place ransacked.
"No doubt thieves were intimidated by this thing," Paul said, indicating the lock. "Got a key?" He smiled.
"You bet," she said, and fished out a ring of large keys. She had visited the insurance company's lawyers office before stopping to buy snacks, earlier. They had supplied her with the keys but not before asking if she would need a captain for the boat. That seemed to set the tone for the rest of the day.
As she looked through all the keys, in hopes of finding the correct one, she was suddenly struck with a thought. Paul did not say anything about her piloting the boat. He made no joke about her needing a captain. Unlike every other man she had encountered since her arrival, Paul did not make fun of her about it.
Interesting. More points for this guy. So far, he was racking them up.
She found the right key. It was huge, and even had the word 'Front' stencilled on its side. She slide the huge key into the equally huge lock, but found it wouldn't turn.
As she struggled with it, Paul pretended not to notice her plight and took pictures of the building.
She struggled to turn the key. After a few minutes of this nonsense, and on the verge of cursing and screaming, she looked to Paul. "Want to take a shot at this? I don't think its been opened in years."
"Sure thing," Paul said, and stepped forward. He took the key from her, almost gently, then gripped the lock.
Lydia was struck by his hands. They were large, and muscular. Almost like a carpenter's, or even a boxers. So this guy did more than sit behind a
desk counting his money. He was in obviously good physical shape, and his hands more than completed the picture.
She found herself thinking what other body parts of his were in good working order, when Paul twisted the key, and the lock came undone.
"There we go," he said. "Just needed a special touch." That grin again.
Oh, it's on, she thought, and her heart started to hammer in excitement.
Before she could say anything, that could potentially betray her thoughts, Paul pulled the chains away from the door handles. Once cleared, he gripped both handles, then looked at her.
"Ready?" he asked.
"You bet," she said. She found she meant that in more ways than one.
He pulled on the doors, which opened outwards. With a loud squeeking protest, both doors swung open. A wide dimly lit foyer presented itself to them.
Paul piled the chain against the bottom corner of one of the doors, to prop it open.
For a moment Lydia had a sense of foreboding. As if they were about to enter a long abandoned haunted castle, as opposed to a neglected luxury resort.
"Big strong men first," she said to him with a grin.
Paul laughed at her comment. "Well, since there doesn't seem to be any around, I'll take the lead." He entered.
Trying not to think of all the other potential magical things those big strong hands could accomplish, she followed him inside.
Chapter 5
Lydia
As soon as they entered nothing jumped out to attack them, much to Lydia's relief.
The main entrance foyer was huge to the point of being cavernous. The vaulted ceiling extended up to the third story roof. Large, open entryways lead to the east and west, with what looked to be the start of the dining hall directly to the north.
A wide stairway, slowly curved along the wall leading up to vanish at the second floor. The floor was composed of wide square stone tile, and other than a fine layer of dust and sand, was none the worse for wear.
The entryway alone could easily have handled several dozen arriving tourists at the same time and still had room for a football team to play a game.
"Wow," Paul said, stating the obvious.
"Yeah, wow is right," Lydia agreed.
They both stood for a few moments drinking in this huge wide structure. And this was but a fraction of what the main building had to offer.
"Doesn't look to bad for being ignore for several years," he said, kicking at the dusty floor.
"Guess they had it sealed up pretty good," Lydia said. "The construction used the best materials and most advanced architectural techniques. Or so the brief says."
Just looking at it all one could tell a tremendous effort was made to make this one of the finest buildings in all the South Pacific. To think some greedy idiots ruined it was almost an offence on common sense.
"Doesn't look like we even need flashlights," Paul said.
Lydia agreed. Most of the windows had some amount of outside boarding done to them, but enough space was left that the bright early sunshine found its way in. That and the wide bright colored walls helped bounce light around.
"I have a couple of flashlights, just in case," she said.
"For someone who had to show up in a rush, you came prepared."
Again, a compliment. She smiled. She was getting use to them.
But she didn't want him to stop.
"Let's just take a peak in the dining hall, then head upstairs and work our way down," he said.
Lydia nodded and they walked across the huge room, their footsteps echoing off the walls. Other than the occasional breeze from the front entrance, it was otherwise as silent as a tomb.
They stood in the double wide entryway of the dining hall. There was no longer any furniture. Anything of worth had long since been stripped away to sell. So all that was here were some discarded folding chairs and tables leaning up against one wall. The rest of the huge hall was barren of features. At the far end was a stage, long unused.
Lydia could almost imagine this hall full of people and wide, round tables. Food of all kinds being served to happy couples, and newly weds. A cheerful band could have played on the stage, taking requests and keeping the mood upbeat throughout the meal.
Now it just looked sad. Like the rest of the complex.
The Realtor in the back of her mind waved a red flag and Lydia glanced over at Paul. He seemed lost in thought as his eyes took in the vast space.
"I think with a couple of throw pillows and a little dusting, this place would be as good as new," she said with some levity.
For a brief moment, Paul did not appear to comprehend her dry quip, but then he burst into laughter. Slightly relieved, Lydia found herself laughing, too.
"Actually," Paul said, "I was thinking this would convert well into a bowling alley."
Lydia couldn't read is dead pan expression, but when he laughed again, she joined in.
And a sense of humor, too, she thought. This keeps getting better by the minute.
"Come on," he said. "Let's check upstairs."
They went back into the main foyer then started to ascend the stairs along the wall. It was so wide that a half dozen tourists hauling luggage could have climbed these steps and not got in each other's way. The banisters looked to be of a thick mahogany and just underlined how much money was used here.
"I can imagine children sliding down those and causing their parents to have heart attacks," Paul said, indicating the banisters.
"Yeah," Lydia said. Then she found herself blurting, "Do you have any children?" And immediately regretted it.
Paul's face transformed from one of outgoing happiness, to a sudden sullen gloom. "No," he answered. "I don't." And went quiet, instead focusing on the steps they were climbing.
Ah, damn! Lydia thought. What did she just do? Based on her research of Paul, she never considered looking into the public details of his personal life. She sensed that asking such a question just made whatever friendly progress they had going slip into reverse.
Then, unexpectedly, Paul looked over to her and said, "Well, not yet, anyway." And offered her a wide, glowing smile.
Lydia's heart was suddenly hammering in her chest. Whoa.
The reached the second floor entryway, while the stairs continued up to the third, and final floor. Directly across was another wide hall, with vaulted ceilings. It appeared to some sort of resting area. On its far side were some double glass doors, that lead out to a huge balcony.
They looked down the east wing, then west wing hallways. Dozens of room doors presented themselves.
"What do you think? Should we check out the balcony?" he asked. She was a little relieved that whatever mood swing she accidentally triggered had gone. He appeared back to his old, cheerful self.
"Sure," she said. As they approached, she noticed another set of chains, and a padlock, but this one was considerably smaller than the one at the front.
"You are the key master," Paul said.
She fished out the key ring again, and started to hunt through them. No kids, huh? She thought. Which meant several possibilities. He didn't want kids. He couldn't have kids. Or he just hadn't found someone to procreate with. Yet.
Finding the key she inserted it into the padlock. Thankfully, it did not fight back and unlocked. As she unwrapped its small chain from the doorhandles she looked to Paul who was trying to peer through the boards to see outside.
At his handsome profile she was struck with a thought. This guy is most definitely procreation worthy. And then some.
"There we go," she said. She stepped back as Paul pushed the wide doors outward.
They were hit with bright sunshine and a warm breeze, as they emerged from the the grey murk of the resort's interior.
Like the rest of the building, the balcony was gigantic. No doubt it was used for an eating area as well.
As they stepped out, Lydia's phone burred, indicating a message.
"Oh," she said. "This will just take a moment."
"No problem, take your time," Paul said, and walked toward the edge of the balcony.
The text message was from Mary. It read, "Handsome? Gorgeous? Studly? Tell me!" Lydia could practically hear her sister's voice hollering these words from New York, demanding answers.
"Oh, boy," she said. She didn't have time for this right now. She simply texted back, 'Busy now. Later.'
She hoped that would placate Mary. At least for the moment.
Tropical Trouble (Billionaire Romance) Page 3