If you only knew, she thought. On her scale of being treated badly, that kiss didn’t even make the top million.
“You’re right about one thing, though,” he said after a moment. “This should have been done long ago. I owed you that much.”
“I owed you a lot more. I don’t think I’d have gotten through that time if you hadn’t been there.”
His mouth twisted. “Nice to know I didn’t completely fall down on the job.”
That reminded her. “Tell me something, will you? Why did they send you back then? Why not somebody from, I don’t know, personnel, maybe?”
He shrugged. “I’d just been in Portugal a few weeks before. I knew some people, people I could call if there were any problems with…arrangements. But there weren’t, really. They were as horrified as the rest of the world, more so since the plane had gone down in their country. They went out of their way to help.”
As simple as that. As simply as that a practical choice was made, and her life was changed forever.
Paige drew in a deep breath of the night air, savored the scent of the night-blooming flowers that had been carefully planted around the grounds. Some sweet, some spicy, it was the kind of perfume that would never be matched by the hand of man in a laboratory.
Somehow the knowledge that he had felt nearly as bad as she enabled her to finish what she’d come here to do.
“If we’re going to work together while you’re here, we have to put this behind us,” she began. “We can’t both go on feeling guilty about it.”
“Wanna bet?”
The words were negative, but his tone was much lighter, and Paige nearly smiled. “Can we forget about it and go on?”
“Forget that I took advantage of you?”
“You didn’t, but I’ll allow you that if you accept I was the initiator and a willing participant.”
He closed his eyes, as if her words had caused him pain. After a moment he opened them again. “I suppose it’s going to be impossible to do what we have to do here if we can’t get past it.”
“It will be for me,” she admitted.
“So we both made mistakes, now we go on?”
“Right.”
He turned to look back out over the calm, warm sea. She heard him take a couple of deep breaths.
“All right. We start over,” he said finally.
“Hello, Noah Rider. I’m Paige Cooper,” she answered.
He turned back to her then. An odd expression was on his face, and an odder half smile curved his mouth. That mouth she’d spent five years trying to forget.
“Hello, Paige Cooper,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”
Rider walked down the long hallway to the administrative offices of the hotel. He’d kept Barry waiting longer than he’d wanted to, but he’d had to finish with Paige.
Finish with Paige.
That was something he’d been hoping for for five years now. To conclude what had felt like unfinished business. Or at the least, unatoned-for business. So why didn’t he feel relieved, now that the air had been cleared, apologies—however unexpected hers had been—made, and an agreement reached that they would forget and move on?
Forget. Right. Not likely. He had thought it would be over now. That after he’d apologized to her, she would have forgiven him, and they could have gone on, comfortable in the knowledge that they would rarely, if ever, see each other again once he left here. It should have been easy.
But it wasn’t. Not a damned thing had changed. Except now she was right here, within reach.
So now what? He was supposed to just smile and walk around cheerfully as if it had never happened? Pretend he’d never met her before this day, that she hadn’t been a warm, taunting image in the back of his mind since even before the night he’d made himself walk away from her?
His cell phone rang again.
“Rider.”
“Sir?” The voice was tentative. “This is Miranda Mayfield, in tech services? I know it’s after hours, but you did say to let you know when the test data on the standby generators was finished.”
“Relax, Miranda. There’s no such thing as after hours for me while I’m here. Drop it off in my temporary office, will you? Then go home.”
“Thanks, Mr. Rider.”
He slipped the phone back in his pocket just as he reached Barry Rutherford’s office. The door was open, and the man was still at his desk. Out of courtesy Rider tapped on the doorjamb rather than just striding in. He might out-rank the man in the general scheme of things, but Redstone Bay was Rutherford’s bailiwick, and would be long after Rider was gone.
“So what’s that bad news?”
“I just hung up with Bohio’s family,” Barry said. “What I’d feared is true. He’s not coming back.”
“Because?”
“Sadly, that emergency he left for was the death of his brother.”
Rider frowned. “Did you tell him we’d hold the job for him, as long as he needed?”
“I’m afraid I wasn’t able to speak to him directly. He’s no longer there.”
Rider studied the older man’s face for a moment. “Do I need to sit down for this?”
“As you wish. It’s not pretty, but not unusual of late. Bohio’s brother was in the army. He was killed in a skirmish with the rebel forces on Arethusa. Bohio has decided he must help the army hunt down those responsible.”
Rider’s mouth twisted. In all his travels he’d more than once been close to a restless part of the world. He hadn’t liked it then and he didn’t now. He dealt with it when he had to, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it.
“And he’s already gone?” he asked.
Barry nodded.
So, no chance to try to talk him out of it. Not that he could have, but it would have been nice to try. But he could understand—intellectually, anyway, because he’d never had to face such a decision himself—that Bohio had felt he had to do this.
“See if the family needs anything,” he told Barry.
“I will. As for his job, we’ll need somebody fairly soon to replace him.”
Rider gave the man a wry smile. “You’re a master of understatement, Barry. I’m sure Redstone has someone they could send out temporarily. But first, are there any possibilities already here?”
Barry frowned. “You mean, someone who could take over? No one with his training and credentials.”
“What about any bright lights? Somebody who’s shown some knowledge or initiative?”
Barry thought for a moment. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then shut it again.
“What?” Rider asked.
The man shook his head. “No, he’s too young.”
“Who?”
“Elan Kiskeya. A local. He’s been helping Bohio, so he knows the systems, and he’s got a knack for mechanical things, but…”
“Does he have the drive?”
“He’s always asking for more to do, but he’s only twenty-four.”
“I was twenty-six when Josh Redstone gave me a shot at your position on the San Juan Islands project,” Rider said. “I’d never done anything that big before. I worked harder than I ever had in my life, to prove I could do it.”
It had also been nerve-racking as hell, San Juan being Redstone’s first resort venture. But now it was a cornerstone of the resort end of the business, and Rider knew it was why he was where he was today.
“He would have to learn a great deal very quickly,” Barry warned.
“Is there a good staff in place? I haven’t gotten to that part of the report yet.”
Barry nodded. “Very good. Bohio picked good people. Including Kiskeya. Do you wish to talk to him?”
“Let’s bring him in tomorrow so we can discuss it. But it’s going to affect you the most, since you may have to help him along, so the final decision is yours. If you don’t think he can cut it, we’ll send for help.”
Barry looked a bit relieved. “All right.”
Rider smiled. “Steamrollering people
from the top isn’t the Redstone style.”
The man chuckled. “Did I look that worried?”
“Just a little.”
“I’ll have Kiskeya come in first thing in the morning, if that works for you?”
“Sooner the better. He’s going to need all the time he can get. And let’s hope we don’t lose anybody else.”
On his way back to the small suite set aside for visiting Redstone personnel, Rider’s thoughts played back those moments in the dining room meeting when he’d seen Paige, doubted his own eyes, then seen her name undeniably written before him. But it still hadn’t quite sunk in until he’d caught up with her outside. But there, with her hair a fiery beacon in the setting tropical sun, he was sure. She looked just as he remembered so vividly. She’d been standing with her arms drawn in tightly, as if she’d been as shaken as he by the unexpected encounter. And when she’d begun to chatter about the improvements to the schoolhouse, as if desperate for any diversion, he’d been sure of it. She was as rattled as he was.
He should be fine now, he argued to himself as he closed the suite door behind him. They’d talked it out, it was over, time to move on. He still felt utterly responsible for what had happened that night—he supposed there were worse things than kissing and pawing a distraught widow, though it was surely one of the worst things he’d ever done—but was at least relieved to know that she didn’t hate him or blame him.
He pulled off his shirt and tossed it over the back of a chair. He should be exhausted; his day had become a marathon. But instead he felt strangely wired. He kicked off his shoes, then looked at the stocked minibar consideringly. He was more inclined to put on his running shoes and go out for a late-night jog. But he decided against it; his memory for plans and layouts was good, and there was nearly a full moon, but he’d only physically been here once before, and inadvertently running off a cliff wasn’t his idea of a good way to end a day that had already been trying enough.
He resorted to pouring a small amount of Amaretto into a glass, then wandered out onto the lanai. From here he could just see the overlook, where he and Paige had stood. He sat down on the edge of one of the chaises, then gave in to the lure, swung his legs up and leaned back. He had a lot to do in the next few days, but for now, just for now…
He woke up in the same place the next morning feeling more rested than he had in days. He wondered if it was the balmy outdoor air, the Amaretto or the simple fact that a large load had been removed from his conscience.
This island, Paige thought as she walked along the immaculate beach, watching the lap of tiny waves on the sand and the break of larger swells far beyond on the reef, had never seemed so small before. You’d think in nearly a thousand acres—and when you spent half your day in a single room with twenty-six kids—you wouldn’t run into one person quite so often. But she seemed to have run into Noah Rider quite a bit in the past two days. True, it was a weekend, and once she’d graded some essays and corrected some math papers she’d had the rest of Saturday and now all of Sunday free to wander, but she’d never seen any one person as often and in as many places as she’d seen him.
So maybe it was just that he was everywhere. Anywhere there was a problem he showed up. And from what she’d heard from other staff, he managed it without stepping on any toes or coming off as the big cheese so many had expected.
Paige wasn’t surprised at that. Not after the gentle, kind way he’d dealt with her in her time of need. Tact was something he clearly had in abundance. She supposed it was a requirement to reach the level he had.
And she had to admit that the times she had seen him hadn’t been difficult, if you didn’t count her own silly anticipation anxiety. He was acting just as she would have wished, treating her just like everyone else.
And if she didn’t completely like that, it was her problem. She could not—would not—make it his, too.
She glimpsed some activity down the beach, a gathering of people and a small boat in the water. She headed that way, curious. She knew at this late date, so close to the scheduled opening, there was no such thing as a weekend off, so whatever it was had to be related to the resort. She was still about fifty feet away when she heard the sound of a motor, and the people gathered began to back away from the boat. She saw a flash of bright colors, red, blue and yellow, and it was a moment before she realized what it was.
And then it became obvious as the colors billowed up into an arc of fabric that then soared into the air. Parasailing, she thought, and in that instant the passenger, attached by lines that seemed too insubstantial to her unpracticed eye, soared upward.
It was Noah.
She stared, certain she must have seen wrong, but she knew deep down she hadn’t. She couldn’t mistake his size, his solid build, and the economy of movement that had been one of the first things she’d ever noticed about him.
But why on earth? Surely this wasn’t required of him. Did he really carry his oversight so far as to risk his neck trying out the recreational offerings? He had to be hundreds of feet up by now.
Although she had to admit, as she came up to the group of spectators, it did look exciting. Very. It looked, in fact, awfully close to flying, and she wondered if it felt like that, too.
She noticed Miranda among the watchers, and the woman smiled and walked over to her.
“My boy can’t wait to try that.”
Paige grimaced. “I’m sure Kyle will want to do it, too. In fact, I’m surprised he’s not here.”
“I saw him earlier, talking to Lani over by the pool.”
Paige smiled. “Well, that should keep him happy for a while.”
She knew Kyle was taken with the exotically lovely island girl whose family had lived here for generations. Her mother had died at Lani DeSouza’s birth, but her father had been there for her all her life, and Paige knew the girl loved him dearly. That father had also been the local population’s representative at the time Redstone had bought the island a decade ago. He had been a persuasive voice then, and, she’d heard, a shrewd bargainer. And a wise one. The people all agreed, because so far Joshua Redstone had kept every promise he’d made, including a school that would accept every child on the island.
And Lani was as clever as her father. She was a pleasure to have in class, absorbing every bit of knowledge Paige provided her with an eagerness that made Paige regret the years she’d been away from teaching, although she knew students like Lani were rare. She was secretly delighted that Kyle was interested in the bright, sweet-natured girl. Of course he was far too young to be serious, but Lani couldn’t help but be a good influence on him. She hoped he would follow the girl’s lead; Lani could hardly wait until this summer, when she hoped to work as one of the many personal assistants, or PAs that Redstone hired to help all their guests with any and everything, from scuba diving the reef to nature hikes to finding a book in the small but well-stocked library.
“Now there’s a man,” Miranda said as the boat maneuvered to bring its airborne passenger back to the beach, “to keep a woman happy.”
Paige nearly blushed, then silently called herself an idiot—from now on he worked for the same company she did, that’s all, she told herself.
“Mr. Rider?” she asked, trying for an innocent tone.
“I sure didn’t mean ol’ Rudy,” Miranda said with a grin, nodding toward the round, bald, very tanned head of the executive chef.
Paige giggled in spite of herself. “I don’t know. He’s kind of cute, in a grandfatherly sort of way.”
“Well, he does make a mean fricassee, I’ll give him that,” Miranda said.
Paige knew Rudy Aubert had been at a large five-star hotel for years, but had jumped at the chance to oversee this smaller but no less exclusive operation. And, judging by his tan, he was soaking up island life in a big hurry.
Unlike herself, she thought, always checking that she wasn’t inadvertently exposing unscreened skin to the sun that was so deadly for her fair complexion. On this lovely day s
he wore leggings and a long-sleeved, gauzy blouse. Even then she’d had to put sunscreen on, knowing she could burn through the fabric if she spent too much time—for her that meant anything over half an hour—out in the sun.
“So, how long have you known him?”
Paige blinked. “Mr. Rider?” Miranda gave her a look that reminded her of the way she sometimes looked at Kyle when he didn’t—or refused to—see the obvious.
“Oh.” She glanced over to where Rider was now safely ashore and getting out of the harness. He was grinning widely and then he laughed, clearly exhilarated. She turned back to Miranda and said carefully, “What makes you think I’ve ever met him before he got here?”
The look was even worse this time. “Oh, maybe because he about swallowed his tie when he spotted you in the staff meeting. And you couldn’t wait to get out of there.”
She considered lying, but it seemed pointless, and she didn’t want to lie to this woman who was becoming a friend. There had been more than enough lies in her life.
“I knew him from…a bad time in my life. Redstone sent him to help when my husband was killed.”
Instantly contrite, Miranda put her hand on Paige’s arm. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s all right. It was a long time ago. And it was only that I didn’t expect to ever see him again. I was…startled, that’s all.”
Miranda patted her arm comfortingly. “Still, I’m sorry. But, my, he’d be enough to wake up any breathing woman. So tell me, why does he only go by Rider?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he just doesn’t like Noah.”
She liked the name, and that’s how she thought of him, but now she wondered why she persisted, when he’d asked everyone else to call him Rider. Maybe because he hadn’t asked her to call him that. And her mind skittered away from figuring out the motivation behind that particular choice.
As if satisfied that Paige wasn’t really a source of details on the man in question, Miranda gave up on the subject. They chatted for a couple of minutes about how her two children were doing in class, and then the woman excused herself to go find said kids and stop them from whatever trouble she knew they were up to.
Just Another Day in Paradise Page 4