Paradise Wild (Wild At Heart Book 2)

by Christine Hartmann

  “Is everything okay?” She glanced at his hip and was relieved to see his gun still holstered.

  “I’m here to warn you.”

  Ellie felt her knees weaken and held onto the banister.

  “Did you catch someone? Was it Noa? Is there blood?”

  “We found someone in the house. But…” K-Rao rubbed his chin. Ellie thought she caught sight of a smile behind his hand. “It’s a woman. She says this is her house.”

  “What?” Incomprehension widened her eyes. Then recognition slowly dawned. “Vivyenne? Here?” Her face sank.

  “I thought it would be a shock. That’s why I waited for you.”

  “Shock?” Ellie shook her head. “I’m going to lose my job. I locked my boss out of her house. I didn’t give her the alarm code. And I set the police on her.”

  “You didn’t give her the code?”

  Ellie put her hand to her head. “The alarm just got installed. I hadn’t gotten that far.” The house’s eerie silence accentuated Ellie’s rising panic. She turned to K-Rao, her eyes pleading. “Come in with me. There might be bloodshed.”

  K-Rao chuckled. “You should have seen her when we arrived. Spitting like an angry mongoose.”

  Ellie punched his arm as they strode through the front door. “Be serious. I’m in huge trouble.”

  “Don’t worry.” K-Rao patted his gun. “I’m ready.”

  Inside, Ellie peered cautiously around the kitchen doorframe. A female officer leaned against the counter near the refrigerator, arms crossed, with a fed-up expression. Ellie inched her head farther into the room.

  Vivyenne stood at the breakfast bar with her back to the door, standing erect, phone to her ear. She wore a long white linen jacket with three-quarter length sleeves. Thin, shapely legs tapered to tan open toed sandals with two-inch heels.

  Ellie scanned her own outfit of baggy hiking shorts and a frayed University of Delaware sweatshirt.

  Does that woman always look like a fashion model?

  K-Rao gave Ellie a gentle shove and she stumbled into the room. Vivyenne turned toward her. She looked at Ellie like an ice sculpture turning on a pedestal.

  “It’s you.” The two words seemed to convey all Vivyenne wanted to say but wouldn’t in front of the officers.

  Ellie pulled distractedly at her ponytail. “I’m so sorry, Vivyenne. The alarm only got installed today. I was going to text Devora the code when I got here. I’ve been staying Upcountry.”

  Vivyenne lowered her phone and turned it off. She radiated confidence, disdain, and, Ellie thought, repugnance.

  “So I gathered.”

  Ellie fidgeted, trying to figure out which one of her excuses Vivyenne had responded to.

  “I texted Devora this morning. I told her it was almost installed.”

  The stare from Vivyenne’s dark eyes seemed to look both at Ellie and completely through her into the hallway beyond. Vivyenne jerked her chin at the female officer who, with an unveiled look of disgust, moved toward the kitchen door.

  “Devora has the flu.” Vivyenne’s tone made it sound as though she’d uncovered the depths of Devora’s depravity. “She isn’t responding to most texts. And when she does, she seems to be delusional.”

  K-Rao stepped into the kitchen. “If things are set here, we’ll be off.”

  Ellie turned to him, ready to hang on his arm to make him stay. But he winked at her and turned to the hall.

  Ellie swiveled back.

  Vivyenne put her hands on her hips. “The code.”

  She searched her empty brain, eager to give Vivyenne what she wanted but unable to make the connection. What code? The Da Vinci Code? My ZIP code?

  Vivyenne closed her eyes. “The alarm code. Give it to me.”

  “Oh, gosh, sure.” Ellie fumbled with her phone. “Here.” She scooted the phone across the counter with an outstretched arm, moving minimally, as though giving money to a bank robber.

  Vivyenne typed. Bent over, her jet-black Cleopatra haircut emphasized her uncannily square shoulders.

  Looks like a skinny football player in drag.

  Vivyenne passed the phone back, touching it only with her fingertips, and looked for the first time directly at Ellie.

  “I’m staying here. In the house. I want to inspect the progress and get to know the neighborhood. I booked you a hotel room.” She pulled a perfectly folded printout from an invisible jacket pocket and placed it on the counter. Ellie picked it up and read it.

  The room’s at Jacqui’s hotel.

  Ellie looked up. “I can stay in the guest room if you’d like.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Ellie knew she’d made a mistake. The corners of Vivyenne’s mouth wrinkled. Ellie backtracked. “Or I can go back and stay with my friend Upcountry. That way you wouldn’t have to pay.”

  “I’ve experienced how long it takes you to get here from Upcountry.” Vivyenne drew in her breath. “You’ll stay at the hotel. Be back here tomorrow morning at seven. We can review what’s been done on the house so far, what still needs to be done, and what needs to be done over because it’s wrong.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Ellie’s brow wrinkled in surprise. I’ve never said that before. To anyone.

  Vivyenne swept past Ellie and marched toward the master bedroom. She turned with her hand on the door. “Where is the cat?”

  Ellie blinked. “You mean Viv?”

  Vivyenne stared at her, her face a mask of impatience.

  “Of course you do. He’s in the car. I’ll go get him.”

  Vivyenne pushed open the door. Ellie caught a glimpse of leather luggage standing near the bed.

  Thank God I cleaned before I left.

  “I’m tired. Bring him in and set up…whatever it is he needs.” The door closed behind her.

  Ellie exhaled a sigh of relief in the hallway and shook her arms as if flicking an unwanted substance from her hands. She stopped in mid-flail when the bedroom door reopened and Vivyenne’s head poked out.

  “Turn on the alarm when you leave. Can you handle that?”

  The door closed on Ellie’s answer.

  “Yes, ma’am. Will do.”

  Ellie screwed her eyes shut and leaned against the wall.

  At least I still have a job.

  Out in the car, she curled up on the passenger seat with Viv on her lap. The cat purred contentedly. Ellie set her phone alarm for five-thirty the following morning.

  Better get here early.

  The bedroom lights shone from the house. “That woman’s a nightmare.” She tickled Viv behind the ear and reclined in the seat. “I don’t even know why she wants you back. I should take you to the hotel with me. It’s not like she’ll really notice if you’re there or not.”

  ***

  One house to the north, Denver pulled the door of the guesthouse quietly shut behind him. The half moon cast long shadows across the lawn. Lights from Ellie’s house blinked through the dense shrubbery.

  He rubbed his hands and grinned from ear to ear.

  She’s back from Upcountry. Luck’s finally with me.

  He tightened the towel around his waist, looked from the driveway to the bushes and back again, and thrust his way between the areca palms. The fronds scratched his bare chest and arms. The beach naupaka that followed was easier on his skin but more difficult to climb through.

  Did I go a different way last time?

  He eventually stumbled gratefully onto the trimmed grass on Ellie’s side of the vegetation. Her lanai lights shone like beacons from across the garden. He saw a woman’s figure in the living room settle onto the couch and felt a responsive pulse from beneath his towel. He closed his eyes.

  No more holding back. But before you kiss her. Before you make love. You tell her everything.

  He pulled up the random Target beach towel he’d grabbed from the Kirkpatricks’ mountainous supply of identical towels in their guest cottage. It had seemed like a good idea back there, when his eagerness to see Ellie had almost overwhelmed him. Now he fe
lt awkward.

  What if she thinks I’m assuming too much?

  He surveyed the hedge behind him, not eager to retreat through it to put on some clothes. His gaze roamed back to the living room.

  I won’t touch her. Until I’ve told her.

  He turned his back on the house and undid the long towel, repositioning it so that the gap was at the side and the folds draped over his knees.

  I’ll say I was going for a swim and saw the lights on.

  He crouched low as he dashed across the soft lawn, his bare feet leaving tread marks in the sheen of drops left by the sprinkler system. He leapt the steps two at a time, stood, slightly breathless, at the front door, and tried the handle. It yielded to his touch. He entered noiselessly, leaving it open behind him.

  The living room was illuminated by a single stainless steel floor lamp that arced gracefully over the sofa and ended in an elongated oval of blown white glass that glowed with a soft light. He looked at the floor and stepped into the room.

  “Ellie.”

  “Denver?”

  He flinched at the sound of the unexpected but familiar voice and stared. It took a few seconds to reconcile the expected image of Ellie with the actual figure of Vivyenne rising from the couch, her black bob cut floating like a period above a fluttering white silk nightgown exclamation mark.

  “Vivyenne?”

  “What are you doing here?” Their simultaneous questions bounced off one another and echoed in the large room.

  Denver advanced, but Vivyenne spoke first.

  “I heard from the Kirkpatricks that you sometimes stay next door. Am I correct…” Her eyes contemplated his towel. “That you also sometimes stay here?”

  Denver yanked his towel farther up his chest. “I was going for a swim. I saw the lights on. I thought…”

  “Ellie might like to join you?” Vivyenne lowered herself to the edge of the sofa, her white night gown blending perfectly with the surgical white of the cushion.

  “I guess.” Denver’s hands moved restlessly from hips to arms to thighs and back again.

  “Do as you like. But she’s not here. I sent her to a hotel.” Vivyenne smoothed the front of her gown. “You needn’t have sent that email, you know. I have a…relationship…with someone, myself. For more than half a year.”

  She regarded Denver with a glance that mixed pride with disinterest.

  Denver shifted from one bare foot to the other.

  How were we ever involved?

  “I’m happy for you.”

  “Yes.” The corners of Vivyenne’s mouth twitched upward for a second and then relaxed. “We plan to move into this house…together. That’s why I’m here.” She rose in a smooth movement. “Your timing is good. I can return your cat. Philbert is allergic to animals.”

  “My cat? Return it?”

  Vivyenne’s eyebrows arched. “You must remember your own animal?”

  I remember all right. He’s what’s keeping Ellie employed.

  Denver shook his head. “I can’t take him now. I’m just here for a day. I flew in from China.”

  Vivyenne gave a slight shrug of her square shoulders. “Send the cat to Seattle and get a sitter. You seem to know how to find them.”

  Is that a joke? Denver eyed her. She never jokes.

  “Keep Viv for a while longer, would you? It would really help me out.”

  Vivyenne’s hair bounced slowly back and forth as she shook her head no. “Having him here makes it necessary to keep Ellie. In a few weeks, the house will be in a state where I won’t need someone here full-time.”

  “You’re going to fire Ellie?”

  Vivyenne’s face remained as blank as a morning’s fresh expanse of snow.

  Denver racked his brain. “I’ll pay the expenses.”

  He watched indecision flash across her face and smiled to himself.

  Come on. I know you’re a cheapskate at heart.

  Vivyenne used her little finger to edge a stray hair on her cheek back into place. “Philbert can’t relocate for another few months at the earliest. So…we can come to an arrangement until then.” She twisted the tie of her robe around her wrist in a tight loop. “Let’s see…You pay Ellie’s full salary and I continue to use her for the renovations. It’s you who is inconveniencing me, after all.”

  Always have to come out on top. Some things never change.

  Denver exhaled quietly and tried to look frustrated. He clasped his hands behind his back.

  “I guess you have me over a barrel. Or a cat box.” He smiled while Vivyenne stared at him. “It’s a deal. Ellie doesn’t need to know.”

  Vivyenne raised an eyebrow again. “As you like. I’ll have Devora let you know about the details.” She tossed her head. “When that woman bothers to recover.”

  To Denver, the air in the room, previously tense and conflicted, smoothed. His shoulders relaxed. He took a deep breath and grinned.

  You were never one for change, Vivyenne. Thank goodness I still know how to play you.

  He looked around the room, a mixture of the old dark wood floors and new white walls and furniture.

  It’s good to see you again. It makes things very clear. I want Ellie. Thanks for underscoring that.

  He extended his arms. “I’m glad we ran into each other.”

  Vivyenne eyed him skeptically. Then she shrugged. “Yes. I’m glad too. It’s saved me some money.”

  He pulled her into his arms, laughing.

  “I love that you never change, Vivyenne.”

  At a thump and startled meow, Vivyenne and Denver turned toward the door, arms still around each other.

  Viv’s red cat carrier lay on its side. Beside it stood Ellie, pale and rigid.

  Chapter 17

  In the hotel, Ellie flung herself onto the king-size linen bedspread. Tears streaked her face. Her chin sunk to her chest. She wrenched a pillow from an enormous pile and crumpled it against her stomach, unable to imagine a moment further into the future. Her only thought was that she’d lost Denver forever.

  “Denver.”

  She sobbed into the pillow.

  “You love…Vivyenne.”

  The words burned her mouth, her brain, and her heart. She had searched on the way to the hotel for other explanations. But none of them fit. The only logical conclusion damned him as a cheat and cast her as an ignorant fool. Ellie curled into a fetal position and pulled a second pillow over her head.

  “He never even told me he was back on Maui.”

  The living room scene at the house mocked her no matter how hard she screwed her eyes shut. Vivyenne’s white silk nightgown flowing across her strong shoulders, sculpted chest, and thin waist. Denver’s strong arms, squeezing her to him. Their warm laughter. Vivyenne’s eyes glittering with surprise and pleasure. The broad smile bisecting Denver’s face. The sound of him telling Vivyenne he loved her.

  Through every image, the towel wrapped around Denver’s firm stomach glowed like a beacon. It was her towel, she was sure. It had to be. It was just like the one she’d bought at Target that first night for her beach adventures. The one she had washed and folded and put in the master bedroom closet before her move to Jacqui’s house. Of everything she had seen and heard, the thought of the towel she had bought covering the nakedness he’d obviously been about to share with Vivyenne dug into Ellie’s soul.

  Why did they think I wouldn’t come back in and find them? How long was I out in the car with Viv? Or did they want me to walk in? She screamed frustration and hurt into the fluffy down bolster.

  Only now, after he was gone, did she realize how much she had given herself to Denver. How her thoughts over time had become intertwined with his. How she had incorporated his face into her days. How his work trouble slowly became something she thought about at night. How the little joys he shared with her over the phone or in texts lifted her own spirits.

  Without conscious effort, she had strung their lives together, weaving one cloth from their two separate skeins. He had s
eemed so aligned with her. She thought back to their half-formed ideas of how they could build on what they had. Could she finish school and move to Seattle? Could he open a branch office in San Francisco? Maybe her computer skills could help him with his business?

  She bit the pillow, reviewing the minutes after she had dropped Viv to the floor. But the scenes were fuzzy, still photos of live action, compiled from the glances she shot toward their feet, the white sofa, the darkened windows facing the garden. She’d wanted to look anywhere but directly at the two perpetrators.

  What did he say? That he’d seen the lights and come over? Vivyenne had said something about cat supplies. I said I had to go.

  She remembered running back through the gate. Spinning her car violently in the driveway. She’d wanted to return to Jacqui’s but couldn’t face having anyone see her torn heart. Her head and hands barely held the thing together.

  She remembered slapping her car keys into the hand of a bemused valet and stumbling into the women’s bathroom near the hotel’s front desk. She’d splashed cold water on her face and rubbed away the tear smudges as best she could, making herself presentable enough to check in and get her room key.

  She’d fumbled in the bright elevator alone, its lights and mirrors ridiculing her from every angle. The tears in her eyes had made reading numbers difficult. The conveyance had finally whisked her silently to one of the top floors. She’d squinted through her tears at the room numbers, found hers, and slipped the key card into the lock.

  After an hour on the bed, Ellie hoisted herself to her feet and shuffled around the room, jerking open cabinets in search of the minibar. When she found it tucked inside a dresser, she loaded small bottles of gin and vodka into her shorts and carried two sodas back to the bed. Half an hour later, empty bottles and cans formed a pile. Ellie lay curled under the covers, staring at the screen of her phone. A white ‘delete contact’ button hovered over Denver’s information.

  Fuck you, Denver.

  Her finger weaved. She poked randomly at the screen until she hit the button. His information disappeared. Then she navigated with only marginally more adroitness to the calls screen, where Denver’s name had fifteen recent calls registered behind it. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she blocked the number. She chucked her phone into the far corner of the bed.