by Zee Monodee
“Only what matters. She is besotted with the lads and thinks I’m nothing more than a widowed former pilot.”
“There’s a lot you haven’t told her, then.”
He closed his eyes. Trust his mother’s insistence upon always speaking out the whole truth. Such relentless perseverance had been what had gotten him tangled with a gold-digger like Crystal in the first place.
“I do plan on telling her everything. When the time is right, I will.” He paused. “All of this doesn’t matter to her.”
“Fine.” The word came out soft, not at all tinged with harshness, but with acceptance. “What’s her name?”
“Diya.”
She laughed. “Sounds very exotic.”
Exotic. Yes, she is, he thought, as well as the most flamboyant character he’d ever come across. “She’s a wonderful person.”
“I have no doubt about it.” She paused, before her tone softened. “You deserve it, you know.”
“Yes, I know,” he replied, barely above a whisper. After all he’d been through, life was giving him a second chance, and he wasn’t about to relinquish it. “How are things over there?”
Elaine Garrison sighed. “Camilla is back, and she’s searching for you.”
He sat up straighter in his seat. “Have you told her where I am?”
“No. But you know how determined she can be. Be ready.”
Bloody hell. Camilla Aldees meant only one thing—trouble. She’d been part of his circle of friends during his Eton days, and she’d tried to woo him. But then, he’d met Crystal, and a forlorn Camilla had fallen back on Gareth Clark, the good-for-nothing troublemaker who’d always lurked in the shadows to catch any woman who might’ve shown an interest in Trent. Whoever said childhood rivalry died with adulthood had been wrong.
“Trent?”
He shivered. Best not to think of the past.
“I’m still here. Hadn’t she married an old Russian oligarch or something?”
“He died, leaving her a wealthy widow,” she replied with a trace of sarcasm.
He huffed. Everyone knew Camilla had married the old man only for his money.
“Trent, listen to me. How long will you keep running from your past? It will catch up with you one day. Camilla is searching for you. She’s not ready to give up.”
As a weight settled over his shoulders, he pressed his frame into the back of his seat.
“I won’t let this happen, Mum.” He paused, wondering whether to continue with this issue. He relented, in the end. “It’s not about escaping. My past has already caught up with me. Guess who’s in Mauritius? None other than Gareth Clark.”
His mother gasped. “Beware of him. Stay as far from him as possible. That boy can only mean trouble.”
“I will,” he said with a heavy heart. He couldn’t tell her how intricately Clark’s acts were woven into his and Diya’s present. “I have to go now. Look after yourself.”
“I will, son. Be careful,” she said. “Trent, are you happy?”
“Yes.”
He was. Diya brought him the kind of happiness he’d always dreamed about.
“That’s good. Take care, Trent. Give the children my love. And tell your lady friend she’s welcome in the family.”
He smiled. “I will, Mother. Goodbye.”
Trent cut the call and got out of the car. He walked into the building and took the lift, before reaching Diya’s flat. With the key she’d given him, he went inside and set out to bring the things she’d requested.
A quarter of an hour later, he closed the front door and stopped in his tracks when the lift doors opened, and Gareth Clark stepped out.
The bloody bastard had risked coming here. How much had he paid the police off? He should’ve been behind bars if he got within two hundred yards of Diya, her residence, or her workplace. Trent had known it—that report hadn’t even been worth the piece of paper it was printed on.
Clark seemed taken aback when he saw him, his step faltering. But he recovered his cool composure instantly, even daring to give him a cocky grin.
“Garrison, what a surprise.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I should’ve known. That little vixen would never have thought to cause me this little inconvenience with the police on her own. You must’ve been behind it all, urging her to get a protection order.”
“What the hell are you doing here, Clark?”
Money got a man a long way, and unfortunately, Mauritius was not immune to corruption. The rat appeared not the least bit shaken by what he’d dubbed an ‘inconvenience.’
Gareth paused, his hands in his pockets as he stood in a casual stance. “I’d say it’s none of your business.”
Anger simmered in Trent. He yearned for nothing more than to punch the life out of the creep. “Stay away from her.”
Gareth lifted an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”
“Diya. Don’t you dare approach her ever again, or I’ll make sure to enforce that order. Even if I have to pay off the whole judicial system, I’ll not let you get off, you bastard.”
The pig had the guts to chuckle. “Gorblimey, Garrison. You always went after the leftovers, didn’t you?”
Trent ground his jaw. Clark would not bait him into a fistfight. “I mean it.”
“Ooh, then I’m so scared. What are you? Her knight in shining armour?”
Keep your calm.
“A rat like you has nothing to do in her life.”
“True,” Gareth replied after he seemed to ponder the words. “But then, that’s also what you said about Crystal. And in the end, she’s the one who came to find me over and over again.”
Trent resisted the urge to sling the suitcase at Gareth; the man wasn’t even worth so much. “Bloody stay away, Clark. Things will get ugly if you don’t.”
“And you’re so unnerving when you want, Trent. I’ve got a half a mind to not let you off the hook this time.”
“Piss off.” The crude curse slipped from his lips before he could restrain himself.
Gareth watched him for what seemed like ages, before he finally held his hands up. “Fine. Keep her,” he said, before he stepped towards the waiting lift.
Once inside, Clark placed a hand on the closing door and stopped the sliding panels. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Actually, pass on the message, will you? Tell her to get her barking dogs to lay off. There’s no way they can cancel my contract with the hotel without extreme prejudice to them.”
So Agnes had gotten her contact on the tourism and hotel board to breathe fire down Clark’s neck. Good.
Still, he fumed as an icy chill snuck through him while the lift doors closed. He hadn’t liked how Clark had acquiesced so readily regarding Diya back there. If he knew the man—and he did—Clark had merely been preparing his return blow. Those parting words spelt trouble.
And where Gareth Clark was concerned, the worst he could expect wouldn’t even be close to what the arsehole could deal.
What had he gotten himself and Diya into?
Chapter Fifteen
Diya swerved her Ranger into the parking lot of the Blue Star Golf and Spa Resort in Flic en Flac, sending tiny rock chippings flying as she braked into a vacant space. Shoot, she’d been running late ever since this morning for her lunch date with Lara, and knowing her sister, she’d be dead before five minutes at the same table.
She cursed her petite stature as she hurried towards the reception area. Her legs weren’t short, but she still couldn’t take long steps, which would buy her time and distance.
Time she had lost … though not stupidly. She grinned, before a hot flush flooded her cheeks. Trent had pulled her back into bed as she’d been about to spring out from under the covers. She’d thought him asleep. But damn, the man was such a light sleeper. The mere rustle of the sheets could alert him if she’d moved.
She hadn’t had the will to resist his kiss, or to urge him to stop when he’d started to roam his hands slowly upon her body. Fire had consumed her, oblite
rating any sense, and they’d ended up making love. Again.
So, here she stood, late, and flushed and hot, exactly how a boiled lobster must feel like, while erotic visions of a tall, dark, and hard-bodied man haunted her thoughts.
Pausing for a breath at the front office desk, she scanned the interior of the hotel lobby with a quick glance. The decorator in her only took cursory note of the luxurious and comfortable cool-coloured setting before she zoomed on the figure of a tall, dark-blond man.
Oh, no. Not Gareth.
He stood right next to the only entrance of the à-la-carte restaurant where her sister awaited her. No way to avoid him in getting to her destination. She also couldn’t wait for him to move, since, by then, Lara might’ve upped and left, and Diya would never hear the end of it if she let such a thing take place.
Her hand itched, and she balled it into a fist. Against her throat, the silk scarf she had wrapped to cover the still-red marks of his assault chafed and burned her skin. With a few presses to compose 999 on her phone, she could have the police here, ready to enforce the protection order against Gareth.
He’d been here first, though, and this wouldn’t be the last time their paths would cross. How many times would she call wolf? And she was made of sterner stuff, wasn’t she? The goddamned rapist wouldn’t assault her in public, after all. No, he was the conniving kind, showing his dark side in private, behind closed doors.
Deep in conversation with a cute brunette, he hadn’t yet noticed her. But then, he brought his handsome head up. Handsome, yes, but deceitful as a majestic snake. She shivered at the image.
After excusing himself and cutting the talk short with the other woman, he started in her direction.
No, he wouldn’t dare. She reached for her phone in the pocket of her jeans.
She hadn’t seen him since that fateful night. She’d hoped never to have to face him again, and quite conveniently, had scheduled her checks on Palm Palace during times when he would be busy elsewhere.
She couldn’t run any longer, and with resolution and defiance flowing freely in her bloodstream, she kept up with his dark blue gaze as he drew closer.
“Diya, I’ve been meaning to have a word with you,” he said with a slight nod as he stopped a few inches from her. He had the gall to grin. “Did we really have to come to this? Good thing I’m not a vindictive man, and money means nothing to me. Still, lawyers don’t come cheap, even here.”
The cheek of him. Tilting her neck, she peered up into his too-beautiful face, the one she’d been so easily deceived by.
“Sod off, you bastard.”
How, ever, could she sound so aloof when so much outrage and disgust battled inside her?
“I love this spirit of yours. You know it.” After a chuckle, he grew sombre. “We need to talk.”
He wasn’t the least bit fazed that she could have him arrested for being so close to her. Was she dealing with a sociopath? A shiver coursed through her.
Better grab the upper hand, and keep it. She made an exaggerated show of glancing at the watch on her wrist. “I don’t think so. I’m already late as it is.”
“Please,” he said in a low timbre.
His voice sounded sincere, his eyes wide and sad. But he didn’t fool her.
“You still don’t understand what ‘no’ means?”
He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “Diya, one chance, please.”
She kept her cool, but when he brought his hand up and settled his touch on her naked arm, she flinched and shrugged away.
“Don’t you dare touch me!” Her voice went up a shrill notch.
“Okay, I won’t.” He paused. “I’m really sorry for the other night. I didn’t want to hurt you. Listen, I don’t know how it all happened, and I really am so sorry.”
She shook her head. He really was convinced of that?
“As much as I want to believe you, I can’t. You hit me, Gareth, tried to rape me, and I’ll never forgive you for it. Now, I have to go.”
She brushed past him in a wide berth. Being within a yard of him made her skin crawl. Vermin could do that to a person.
“It’s because of Garrison, isn’t it?”
The spite in his voice when he said Trent’s name stopped her in her tracks, and she turned back towards him. “What’s Trent got to do with this? You’re the one who tried to rape me.”
“He’s poisoned you against me, hasn’t he? Exactly like with Crystal.”
“What?”
What did Trent’s deceased wife have to do with it all? She should go, but damn if she could move after he’d opened the can of worms.
“He’s got you too, now, hasn’t he?” He smirked. “You know he told me to stay away from you?”
She dismissed the unsettling note and the hint of gloating in his voice. “When did he talk to you?”
“A few days after you ran away from me. I came to your flat, but found him there.”
The knowledge unsettled her, and she stood stock still as she processed it in her mind. Had they fought over her? Somehow, she didn’t want to hear what he had to say to her. A part of her knew she couldn’t trust Gareth, yet, the other side of her begged, desperate, to hear about the encounter.
“Go on.”
“Under the cover of words, he told me he had his sights set on you, and I was to keep away.”
The words punched the breath from her lungs. But Trent couldn’t have said something so crude. He would never be this vulgar.
“You’re not even half the man he is,” she spat in his direction.
Gareth stared at her for what seemed like ages before breaking the oppressive silence. “We had something good, Diya. We can still have it.”
She’d thought so, too, a long time ago.
“No, Gareth. It’s over.”
“You’re doing this because of him.”
His voice had come out calm, but she heard every nuance of the disagreeable feelings between him and Trent.
“No, I’m doing this for me. You broke the trust I placed in you, and you cannot have it back now.” She paused. “I have to go.”
She turned towards the restaurant’s entrance and walked away.
“Trent doesn’t play a spotless game, Diya.”
She froze.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about him, and he hasn’t come clean with you. Be careful.”
When she faced him, Gareth’s features were etched with concern, and caring shone in his eyes. But she knew how well he could mislead a woman.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” she replied, frost dripping from her every word.
She then marched into the restaurant and, after a quick glance, found Lara sitting at a table by the window. Her sister must have watched the whole encounter with Gareth, judging from the frowning forehead and raised eyebrows she sported when Diya approached her.
The two sisters exchanged kisses, before Diya sat down, feeling the burn of Lara’s intense eyes on her. “Sorry I’m late. I got side-tracked.”
“I thought you’d stood me up,” Lara said in a cool tone.
“You know I’d never do that. We hardly get to meet now. So, tell me, how come you're in this part of the island today?”
“There was a meeting of Managers and Directors for the hotel industry this morning. I stepped in for Markus, who’s abroad.”
Which accounted for Gareth’s presence, then, and also Lara’s—Markus was her boss, the one who overlooked the hotel part of the convention centre Lara managed.
“So, you’re acquainted with Gareth Clark,” Lara said.
Diya heard all the unspoken questions in the casual remark, and she stifled a smile. Lara would never admit she was curious.
How much to tell her, though? But in the end, wouldn’t she be better off telling her the truth?
“More than acquainted,” she replied.
Lara raised an eyebrow. Her sister had to be dying a slow death right then with wanting to know more, and she refused to play along. Who
would ruffle Lara’s feathers, if not her baby sister?
Then, she remembered the baby her sibling was carrying, and dropped the teasing.
“We went out a few times.”
“You’ve got to be joking!”
Diya threw her head back and laughed at the incredulity in the statement. “No joke. We were together until a couple of weeks ago.” She frowned. “Well, somewhat together.”
“But, what happened? Seems like you’re no longer on good terms.” Lara paused. “Am I right?”
We never will be again.
But she couldn’t tell Lara about the incident with Gareth, not with her pregnancy hanging in the balance. Lara would be too shocked. Aside from the therapist Agnes had insisted she go see, Diya didn’t talk about that night with anyone else. Good thing no one in her entourage who knew of that fateful time ever pressed her for more than she was willing to say.
However, she could tell her sister about the brighter side of this whole mess, though.
“And then, Trent happened.”
Lara’s eyes grew big, and her mouth dropped open. “You and Trent?”
“Yes.”
“How serious?”
“Very.”
“Bollocks. How serious?”
As sudden, unexpected shyness enveloped her, she lowered her gaze.
“All the way,” she said in a small voice.
Lara gasped. “Dee! You are taking your precautions, aren’t you?”
“Of course we are. We’re not so irresponsible.” Oh, well, maybe not for their first time ... But she was safe, having been in the wrong spot in her cycle to conceive, and then both she and Trent had had their tests done.
“You’re still a tad too young to have kids,” her sister said.
“Come on! Neha had two kids already by the time she was my age,” she countered.
Lara sighed. “Neha was ready to have a baby at eighteen, and she would’ve done it had Rahul not put the brakes on the family’s marriage plans at the time. May I remind you he was just all of twenty back then?”
“Yeah, well, she was made to be a mother.” Then, a sobering thought filled her. “But I will have two of them, when the boys come back this weekend.”
“True enough.” Lara paused. “It’s this serious between you?”
