by Jenna Chase
CONTENTS
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Her Billionaire Boarder
Jenna Chase
&
Toni Kenyon
Copyright © 2016 Jenna Chase & Toni Kenyon
This is a work of fiction. Any and all similarities to any characters, settings, or situations are purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.
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CHAPTER ONE
Julia
Shielding my eyes from the glare of the late afternoon sun on the turquoise lagoon, I looked up to the sky and saw thin slices of white cirrus cloud making their way across the horizon.
Beyond the white spray of the waves crashing over the reef, I could already see the fishermen making their way back from collecting their nets. They knew as well as I that the cirrus cloud was the precursor for a front coming in toward our island.
One of the downsides of living in the northern most part of our small island group was our isolation from the outside world. The upside of this isolation meant that I no longer had to deal with the memories that haunted every city corner and every city street. Auckland, my home had become the one city in the world where I could no longer live.
When the opportunity came up over two years ago to be a part of a new kind of development in the northern Pacific I was the first to put up my hand.
The man who was meant to be my knight in shining armour had turned out to be a dud. A week before we were to be married it turned out that he thought a fling with my ‘supposed’ best friend and bridesmaid was in order.
I’d sworn off men for good.
Remaining in Auckland and risking the chance of seeing the two of them in our home city had been the ultimate undoing of me. Prior to our planned wedding date, I’d come as close to having a nervous breakdown as it was possible for me to come.
We’d planned to get married on one of these islands. As a last exhibition of defiance, I’d cashed in his plane ticket, cut our reservation in half and come on our wedding trip alone.
I’d planned to drink myself into a stupor. Instead, I’d gotten on famously with the family who ran the resort. They’d told me about their plan to expand further up the island chain and, before I knew it, I found myself overseeing the expansion project.
There had been no reason to go home—it was as if the universe itself was giving me the green light to stay away.
When my resort angels decided to quit their expansion project and sell off the lease to the highest bidder, they needed someone to stay and caretake the buildings that had already been constructed. The manager’s bungalow that had become my home stood just beyond the beach on high stilts to avoid the ocean storm surge. Even with its wooden shutters to keep out the weather and its thatch roofing that oftentimes had to be replaced after strong winds whipped through the island group, to me it looked picture-postcard-perfect.
The only threat on my horizon in a long time had come in the shape of a gorgeous, arrogant, billionaire from my old home city by the name of Carlos Abbott.
Carlos owned a ridiculous amount of the Auckland waterfront. It appeared, that his hunger for property had begun to extend into the north Pacific.
One Carlos Abbott had been choppered in this morning. I’d expected him to arrive with one of the bevy of women who hung off his arm in the photographs I looked at on the internet.
Instead, he’d arrived alone. Looking even more appealing in the flesh than he looked on my laptop.
I smiled at Jim, the chopper pilot who simply gave me his signature two-finger salute before attending to ferrying my small boxes of supplies to the wagon I’d pulled up the sandy track.
“Julia, it’s nice to meet you at last.” Carlos said as he held out his hand to me.
I had been dealing with high wealth individuals from the moment that I’d taken this posting, but there was something about the way Carlos Abbott held himself that made me take an unaccustomed breath.
“It’s nice to meet you as well,” I said. All other thoughts having vacated my brain. I felt as if I’d entered a vacuum in the presence of this man.
Even in the early morning heat, he wore a perfectly tailored black jacket over a pale grey t-shirt. Matching black pants with knife-edge creases told me that this man cared about first impressions.
I took his hand in mine and looked at my own reflection in his dark glasses. I wore a bright yellow t-shirt that hugged my curves and a pair of comfortable high cut harem pants that gave the illusion of my wearing a skirt. My classic red hair, the deep vibrant red that refused to fade in the Pacific sunlight hung in a long, thick plait over my right shoulder.
Carlos removed his glasses and I found myself staring into eyes the colour of the ocean that surrounded us. Then he smiled, all the while still holding my hand. My body responded with a silent call that I’d not experienced for years.
A jumble of unfathomable emotions that I thought I’d buried a long time ago fought for air. It was as if a simple look from this man could undo my years of isolation. It seemed as if his entire being had been bathed in a cosmic glow. I thought I could discern every single whisker on his face. The sunlight highlighted tinges of auburn in his short dark hair. My eyes were drawn to his full, perfect mouth then down to his angular, strong jaw. Some strange voodoo magnetism held me captive while every atom of my body begged to move closer to him.
Carlos didn’t make any move to let go of my hand. He maintained his hold on mine in a soothing, but firm grip while he continued to study me.
“That’s the lot,” Jim said, interrupting the spell and I jumped, letting go of Carlos’ hand. Six boxes of supplies sat on the flat trolley. I relied on people like Jim, or the few islanders who commuted to the larger islands to bring back my supplies.
I could grow some of my own food, and I continued to barter for fish or pork from the small group of islanders who made this outpost their permanent home. I still enjoyed receiving extra and necessary items, like soap, shampoo, beans, flour and the like from the mainland.
“I’ll take them down to the shed, right?” Jim asked.
“Yes, thank you,” I said suddenly returning from the spell that my guest had put me under. “I’ll take care of them as soon as I’ve shown Carlos around.”
Carlos
It wasn’t much of a tour because there wasn’t a lot to be seen. Julia had shown me the tiny bungalow that she occupied as caretaker of the half-built resort.
I’d left my jacket on a rattan chair in her comfortable living room and it had taken us less than an hour to look through the remains of the building site.
I couldn’t imagine what would keep a
woman like Julia here for as long as she’d been resident caretaker. Certainly, the area was breathtaking and the climate temperate, but what else would keep a woman like this on an island by herself and why had she come here in the first place?
Quite frankly I’d had some difficulty keeping my eyes on the amazing scenery. I hadn’t expected that Julia would be such an attractive and delightful host. The sight of her walking barefoot down the beachfront ahead of me, the way her hips sashayed from side to side as she walked ignited a desire in me that hadn’t been kindled in months—maybe even years.
If I was honest, I’d grown tired of the lookalike, plastic women of Auckland. All they wanted to do was be seen in the right clubs and restaurants, wearing the latest designer clothing. It was refreshing to see a curvy, barefoot woman walking down the beach, without a scrap of makeup on her bright, clear features. The email correspondence that Julia and I had engaged in over the last few months had also piqued my interest in this fascinating woman. The increasing breeze coming from the lagoon whipped a long tendril of stray, red hair across Julia’s full lips and I had a sudden urge to be that tendril of hair.
“So that’s really all there is,” Julia said, as she pulled that stray tendril of hair from her mouth and tucked it behind her small, dainty ear.
I’d done a study of the area before I’d even left Auckland. I had a set of printed plans in the satchel that was slung over my shoulder. I could easily have sent one of my acquisition managers along for this inspection, but because of the entertaining email discussions I’d had with Julia, I’d decided to come myself.
An hour or so alone with Julia and I knew I may have made one the best decisions of my life.
I hadn’t yet decided whether or not I wanted this resort project and a site visit was intended to sway my decision one way or another. What I had decided already, though was that I wanted Julia Oliver and I always got what I wanted.
“Carlos! Julia!” Jim waved his hands in the distance, trying to attract our attention.
“He’ll be wanting to get back,” Julia said.
“Get back where?” I’d paid Jim to transport me to the island. He’d been the only chopper pilot on the mainland prepared to come out today.
“There’s a storm coming,” Julia said, turning and looking out to sea, beyond the breakers where the surf hit the coral reef that surrounded the island. “He needs to get his chopper back in the hanger, otherwise it will end up in pieces in the ocean.”
“The weather forecast said the storm was two days away.”
Julia shook her head. “Weather forecasting’s pretty hit or miss around here.” She pointed to a few boats coming in through the gap in the coral reef. “See those guys, they’re coming in early. They’re your best weather forecasters. I’d say if they’re coming back from fishing this early, the storm’s not too far away.”
“How can they tell?” I couldn’t stifle a laugh, “The forecasters have satellite imagery and computer generated weather patterns.”
“Years of living here,” Julia said with authority. “They watch the birds and the clouds and the wind on the water. When a storm coming means you might lose your family or your entire village, you keep an eye out for the local conditions. Storms move. They change direction and they do it fast. If the villagers are coming in, I’d say trouble’s not too far away.”
Jim arrived beside them. “Carlos, we have to go. The locals are making preparations for the storm. It’s likely changed path, I need to get the old girl home and tucked up in her hanger.” He inclined his head toward the chopper that had ferried us across from the main islands.
I wasn’t going anywhere. “I’ve paid you to bring me here and I’m staying for the rest of the day.”
“Well you’re on your own,” Jim said. “I’m not risking my girl. I’m heading back now whether you’re coming or not.”
“You can come back and get me this evening,” I said. This was ridiculous. What kind of a crack-pot transportation operation was Jim running? If this was an indication of how the locals ran their businesses, I’d have to make sure that I had my own team available if I was going to make this resort a success. No wonder the place had been abandoned incomplete, with this kind of a half arsed operator running transportation.
“You should go with him, otherwise you don’t know how long you’ll end up staying here.” Julia said.
I could feel the tension beginning to build inside me. Didn’t these people know who they were dealing with? “The storm’s not due for two days,” I reminded them. What was wrong with these two? I could feel my temperature rising and it had nothing to do with the sun. In fact, the sun had disappeared behind a small bank of cloud that had arrived from nowhere. “A couple of fisherman coming back early doesn’t mean that the fucking apocalypse is going to be upon us.” I couldn’t hide the irritation in my voice.
“Last chance,” Jim said.
“I forbid you to leave this island until this evening.”
Jim ignored me and said to Julia, “See you later, Jules. Make sure you batten down and try and keep Mr Impossible here safe.”
Then he strode off toward his chopper leaving us standing on the beachfront.
“What the fuck?” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
“He’ll take you back if you hurry,” Julia said.
“What part of I’m not fucking going back don’t you two understand?”
“Fine,” she said her lips taking a firm, tight line, “be like that.” Then she turned her back on me and started walking toward her bungalow.
“Where are you going?” I yelled. Clearly they both had no idea who they were dealing with. If anyone in Auckland showed me this kind of disrespect I’d have their contracts severed in an instant.
Julia turned around and stared me down. “You heard Jim. There’s a storm coming and I’m going to make sure that I’m ready for it. You should probably chase after him and get in that chopper.”
I wasn’t about to chase after anyone. He’d be back. In fact, he’d better be back he’d been paid for a return trip. If he was stupid enough to double his expenses by turning one trip into two unnecessary trips, that was his loss, not mine.
“I’m going to check the area that I think would be perfect for an airstrip,” I said, struggling to keep the frustration out of my voice. I certainly wasn’t going to trail after a woman who had made it quite clear that she valued the opinion of a couple of returning fishermen over the sensible advice of those who used quantitative data to predict the weather patterns.
“Don’t stay out here too long,” Julia said, “when the winds get up around here a stray piece of roofing iron can take a man’s head straight off.”
I swallowed hard.
The sound of Jim starting the chopper was a solemn reminder that no matter what happened with the weather, I had to now wait for his return before I could depart this island outpost.
CHAPTER TWO
Julia
We’d been corresponding by email for a couple of months and, despite my reticence to get involved with this stubborn man, I’d found myself warming to Carlos. He was articulate and friendly and he’d taken an interest in me. I’d come to look forward to receiving his almost daily email correspondence.
I’d also warned Carlos that this wasn’t the best time of year to come up here on a fact finding mission.
Clearly, he was a man who didn’t take advice well from others.
The approaching storm should have worried me more than it did. I’d weathered a few tropical storms in my time up here and I’d become adept at watching for those that turned into tropical cyclones.
Like Jim, I knew that this storm had the potential to become a cyclonic mass and I knew what that meant as far as my personal safety was concerned.
The villagers would be okay. They had a good, strong concrete block church that they would shelter in. Anything that wasn’t tied down would end up in the overgrown tropical jungle in the middle of the island, or somewhere o
ut in the Pacific Ocean.
Generations of villagers had lived through these storms and they simply rebuilt after the winds had flattened their homes and pulled their lives apart.
I knew that the skeletal structures of the half-built resort bungalows would likely remain standing, but everything else that I held dear, or needed for my survival, would have to be stored in my concrete block storage shed, or stowed in my small bungalow.
I could see Carlos up on the point, stepping out across what he thought would be a sensible area for a landing strip for light planes.
The coconut palms that lined the beach had begun to sway as the incoming wind speed increased. I could see banks of cloud on the horizon and I knew that they were the precursor to the high winds that were coming.
I didn’t have a lot of time, but I was loathe to let Carlos out of my sight for too long. The fact that the sight of him had begun to stir some deep seated lust was almost as terrifying as the possible storm rumbling its way towards us. He might be arrogant and clearly used to having his own way, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t my responsibility to ensure that he stayed safe while he was here.
What Carlos hadn’t appreciated was that it might be days now before he’d be able to leave whether or not he believed the chopper pilot would be back for him.
The prospect of being trapped in my bungalow for days with a man whose mere presence made my hormones go on high alert was a daunting prospect.
I pulled a fresh set of sheets from the linen cupboard and wished for the first time that I had a spare bedroom. The fold out couch in the sitting room might not be what a billionaire from Auckland would be used to, but this bungalow was one of the few safe places that would be available to him once the storm hit.
