“That would be an improvement. But may I also say I believe the time has come for you to play a greater role in managing your wealth. You’re hard working and you’ve got good business sense.” He shot Ryan a dry look. “To remain here is to underutilize your talents.”
“I never asked to be rich. I still might donate my fortune to charity.”
“Donating wealth is, in itself, a great responsibility. Whether you keep it or give it away, it’s going to demand your attention.”
Dammit. The man was right. “Let me sleep on it.” Chris glanced at the blank computer screen. How would Anna feel about being rich? The quality he loved most about her was her total lack of pretension. Would Anna even consider a life that had to be lived under guard?
The office door opened and Bobbie leaned in, carrying a handful of black orchids. “There you are!” she said. “We’re starting the final elimination round at the beach. It’s a secret vote this time, and I need Chris to read the envelopes and pretend he’s interested in the outcome.”
Chris frowned. “I’m in a meeting.”
“I believe we’ve covered everything.” Uncle Henrik rose from his chair. “For my part, I’m fascinated by the financial possibilities of your production.” He offered Bobbie his arm. “May I escort you to the beach?”
The woman smiled sunnily. “Of course.”
Chris followed a few steps behind. He hadn’t been able to speak to Anna since yesterday’s helicopter jump. The one time they’d met, she’d blurted apologies and dashed away, apparently certain she’d wrecked Chris’ life. But Anna hadn’t wrecked anything. She’d just uncovered the wreckage that was already there. Wreckage that might drag her under unless he followed his uncle’s advice and disappeared.
Chris took his place on the beach and tried to concentrate on the contest. He had to admit, Bobbie had talent. She’d staged the final internet vote for the golden half-hour before sunset. Water sparkled. Palm trees swayed. Behind the beach, the glowing windows of the Paradise Resort dotted the hillside like Tiki lamps.
Taking charge of the black orchids that went to contest losers, Chris strolled along the line of sandcastles, providing each bridacuda a final chance to show off. Tiffany had built a Frank-Lloyd-Wright-style prairie house. Lani, a miniature Russian palace with onion domes. Chris dutifully admired Veronica’s mock stonework and Marguerite’s fairy towers. In place of the castle that had been destroyed, Anna had sculpted a lying cow that bore an unmistakable resemblance to Tiffany. Chris lifted an eyebrow, but she’d turned her face away and didn’t see. He hated to think he’d made Anna unhappy. If he’d been honest with her, if he’d confessed about the inheritance…. Chris frowned. If he’d been honest, they could have instructed Uncle Henrik to buy Anna out of her contract with Vacation Bride.
Two days ago, the idea of fixing problems by throwing money at them had seemed unthinkable. Now Chris couldn’t believe he’d let Anna suffer over something so small.
“Keep moving.” Bobbie nudged him. “We’re almost out of light!”
Chris admired Jessica’s medieval fortress and took his place between a pair of flaming torches. Anna stared steadily at the water, refusing to meet Chris’ gaze while Bobbie produced a set of black envelopes containing the voting results. Four contestants were about to be eliminated. Chris studied the women’s tense faces and reminded himself that they’d put a lot of time and effort into Vacation Bride. He didn’t care for most of them, but he knew losing was going to be painful.
“Ladies,” Chris said. “It’s been an education and a pleasure getting to know you. Unfortunately, only two women can enter the final round.” He was supposed to have one last private date with each finalist and then—since there was not going to be a wedding—pick one woman to receive the cash prize.
Chris opened the first envelope. “Jessica.” He carried a spray of black orchids to the woman and brushed her cheek with his lips. “You were the bravest of all of us during the helicopter jump. Thank you for appearing on the show.”
Jessica took the flower, lip quivering, and then nodded and walked up the path to the resort. Chris opened the next two envelopes and awarded black orchids to Marguerite and Veronica, taking a moment with each woman to mention something special she’d done.
That left Tiffany, Lani, and Anna.
Chris opened the fourth envelope and read the name he dreaded. Anna. He couldn’t say it. She couldn’t go. If Anna left now, she’d head straight back to Milwaukee. And with Chris’ affairs so unsettled, it might be weeks before they could get together and talk. All that while, she’d be more and more miserable about what had happened, more and more angry he hadn’t told her the truth.
“I’d like to use my save.” He returned the black envelope to Bobbie.
There was a moment of stunned silence while Chris wondered if he’d have to repeat himself.
At last Bobbie stepped forward. “Well.” She addressed the cameras. “How surprising! It appears our billionaire wants to keep Anna Williams on the show!”
Anna gulped miserably, crossing her arms. Chris desperately wanted to spare her feelings. But he knew Anna would honor her commitment to stay and finish the show. Right now he wasn’t sure she’d stay for him.
“All right.” Bobbie tapped the black envelope. “Anna stays. Who’s her unlucky successor?”
The only ones left were Lani and Tiffany. Chris waited, trying to look indifferent while one of the cameras held a close-up on his face. The other camera panned slowly from Anna’s pinched expression to Lani’s grin to Tiffany’s glittering glare.
At last, a new black envelope was prepared. Chris ripped it open and looked down guiltily at Lani’s name. To his relief, she broke out laughing.
“That’s my ride!” Lani ran to Chris, hugged him, and whispered, “You guys are going to be great!” She tucked the spray of black orchids into her hair and waved playfully at the camera. “Look for my video game, Knights of Paradise, next fall!”
Lani blew kisses and skipped away.
The sun had almost set. Across the water, the lights of St. Thomas glittered like banks of candles in an enormous darkened cathedral. The show switched on additional lighting to finish shooting and then brought Anna and Tiffany over to Chris.
“Congratulations.” Chris offered each woman a brief kiss. Tiffany wrapped her arms around him and cooed. Anna glared daggers. After an awkward silence, the crew took Tiffany aside to answer questions submitted by fans.
“Anna, please.” Chris stripped his microphone and dropped it on a table. “We need to talk.”
He turned to find her but she’d already disappeared.
Chapter Fourteen
“May I help you, miss?” a man’s voice called sternly.
Anna snatched her hand from the employees-only gate of the Paradise Resort.
“Mamma mia,” Lani murmured. “Would you look at that!”
Anna was looking. The six-foot-three ponytailed Viking striding her way wasn’t carrying a battle axe, but she doubted he’d have been more impressive if he was.
“This is a restricted area.” The Viking stepped in front of the gate and Anna automatically edged back. “Staff only.”
Lani offered her hand. “You must be Lars.” She and her sister, Kim, had stayed at the resort after leaving the contest by providing free guest makeovers in exchange for room and board. “I met your brother, Lucas, at breakfast.”
Anna had eaten with her dad, but she’d heard rumors Chris had new employees. Bodyguards. The sort of employee he needed now that she’d ruined his life.
The man lifted sunglasses, revealing cobalt-blue eyes. “My name is Lars Andersen.” He had a faintly European accent. “You’re from the contest, yes?” He grinned at Anna. “I saw your helicopter jump. It was brilliant!”
“Oh. Thanks.” Anna wondered if this was one of Chris’ cousins, the ones from Denmark he’d mentioned the day she visited his yacht. The day we got married. Two days before she’d blabbed his secret to the world
. Anna squirmed miserably, wishing for the millionth time she could take back her words or, at the very least, rush home and hide under the bed. But Chris had forced her to stay in the contest, so she’d have to face the cameras and do her best.
Lani held up a plastic gate card. “We’re looking for Doris. Marie at the front desk said to check the laundry and loaned us her key.”
“That was very wrong of her.”
“Doris isn’t in the laundry?”
“Security cards are not permitted to be shared.” Lars took possession of the piece of plastic. “However, I’d be happy to escort you myself.”
“I think we can accept those terms.” Lani’s face lit in a man-melting smile. When Lars failed to melt, she shrugged and trotted behind him.
Anna had never been in the employee complex and was surprised to find it felt like a miniature city. There was a block of apartments that might have been the original 1950s guest rooms, a fenced daycare with kids in the yard, and a parking area for the electric carts that carried guests and baggage. For something smack in the middle of a resort, the place seemed remarkably private. She and Lani followed Lars past a maintenance shed and toward the scent of freshly-laundered sheets.
“Good morning.” Lars knocked on an open door, interrupting the sound of laughing women. “I have visitors for Mrs. Andersen.”
The Paradise Resort’s laundry room was bright and airy, with steel racks of crisp linen, a long table where a couple of housekeepers were gossiping and folding sheets, and four of the biggest washers and dryers Anna had ever seen. One dryer had been pulled out and kneeling among screws, carefully replacing a side panel, was Chris. So that was why the bodyguard had walked them through the complex. Lars knew the body he was supposed to be guarding was here.
“Good morning, Anna.” Doris smiled over the sheet in her hands. She was a tall, slim woman, who kept her gray-blond hair in a dignified bun. The simple suit she normally wore was covered this morning by a pale blue housekeeping smock. “What can I do for you?”
Chris looked up, surprised.
“Good morning.” Anna managed an awkward smile. “I, um….” She felt Chris staring. “That is, Lani and I….” Anna glanced desperately at the housekeepers who were working together to fold a king sheet. “Er,” she asked Doris, “can I help with that?”
“Certainly.” Doris’ eyes crinkled. “But I’m afraid Lani can’t come in here wearing sandals.” She gestured toward the chemicals on the shelves. “Closed shoes only.”
Lani nudged Anna forward. “That’s OK. I’ll wait with Lars.” She turned to the bodyguard. “You know, I’m an extremely dangerous woman.”
Anna skirted a half-full laundry cart and picked up one end of Doris’ sheet, watching the housekeepers to see how it was done. “I wanted….” The fabric was warm and soft from the dryer. Why did fresh sheets remind her of Chris? “I mean….” Anna shut her mouth and concentrated on folding. It didn’t help that Chris looked so appealing, smudged with dirt, dressed in jeans. This was the type of work he loved, the simple maintenance he’d done all his life at the resort. The simple life she’d destroyed.
Chris put away tools and wiped his hands on a rag. Anna and Doris folded another sheet.
“Do you need concierge services?” Chris’ mom prompted.
“Yes. That is, n-no. That is, kind of.” Anna glanced for help, but Lani was busy with Lars. Why, oh why, did Chris have to be here? “It’s about our dates. The romantic dinner-dates we’re organizing for the show.” She and Tiffany were each supposed to arrange an intimate evening with Chris in order to give him a chance to propose.
Anna shivered, feeling both hot and cold. “Lani and I…. We thought….” She carefully avoided looking at Chris. “We thought that instead of a date, I’d host a party for your resort.” She swallowed. “To thank the regular guests for being so patient with the show.”
Chris stood and grasped the sides of the drier. “You want to hold a party?” He shoved the heavy appliance into place.
“Wash!” Doris commanded him. “And change that shirt before you soil my clean linen.”
“Yes, mother.” Chris walked to a steel sink and briskly lathered his hands.
Anna picked up a sheet and tried to pretend she wasn’t watching. It didn’t work. The man was looking straight at her.
“You and Lani” —he scrubbed well-muscled forearms— “would like to throw a party for our guests?”
“In the pavilion restaurant at the top of the hill.” Anna had never been there. The place was much too expensive. But she’d heard it was nice. “It’s closed Mondays, right? So we could use it tomorrow?”
Chris finished scrubbing and dried his arms on a towel. There was a stack of folded white T-shirts, Anna saw, on one of the shelves. Before she considered what that implied, he’d skinned the dirty shirt over his head and dropped it in a cart.
Anna flushed. The housekeepers whistled playfully.
Chris grabbed a shirt, cocked a sarcastic eyebrow at his employees and, by the time Anna could breathe again, was trim and tidy. At least she knew now how he managed to keep clean all the time.
Anna looked down at the crumpled fabric in her hands. “Oh. Sorry.”
Doris plucked the sheet from Anna’s numb fingers. “How can I help?”
Lani leaned through the open doorway. “We’re looking for decorations. Marie at the front desk said you’ve got lots of stuff in storage.”
“Yes, there’s a shed with party supplies.”
“We thought,” Anna said, “if we could borrow decorations and use the pavilion on the night it’s closed, then the budget the contest gave me for a romantic date” —she swallowed hard— “could take care of food and alcohol.”
Chris frowned. “That’s a generous offer. Have you been planning it long?”
“Since yesterday evening.” Since Chris had used his contest save to keep her on the show. Anna had spent a sleepless night wondering if that meant he might ever forgive her. She finally decided he’d kept her on as punishment.
“I’m sorry.” Chris shook his head. “Tiffany already booked the pavilion.”
“She what?”
“She tracked me down an hour ago and said she’d like to hold a party as a thank-you to my guests.” He crossed his arms. “I also got a relaxing neck rub.”
“That cow!” Lani exploded. “That eavesdropping bitch!”
“She brought the entire production crew and recorded our conversation,” Chris said. “It sounded fishy, but I promised she could use the pavilion tomorrow night.”
“Oh.” Anna tried to hide her disappointment. “Oh, that’s a shame.”
“No, it isn’t,” Lani snarled. “It’s totally shameless! We can’t let her get away with this.” She turned and took the bodyguard’s sunglasses off his face. “I don’t suppose you’d like to assassinate Tiffany?”
“I might.” Lars’ lips twitched. “But I’m afraid we’ll never know.”
“I’ll pay you five hundred bucks.”
“Lani!” Anna protested. “I’m not giving you my party money to kill Tiffany!”
“Spoilsport.” She tucked Lars’ sunglasses into her blouse. “How about three-seventy…no wait, I bought these sandals….” Lani moved her lips silently. “Two-fifty-nine?”
“In my experience, the only thing you can kill for two hundred and fifty-nine dollars is a bottle of wine.” Lars dipped his hand past Lani’s neckline and retrieved his property. “And I drink aquavit.”
“Tiffany drinks anything.” Lani looked thoughtful. “As long as it comes in hollow coconuts with paper umbrellas. I bet if I grind up a couple of bottles of laxatives….” She nodded and started for the gate.
“You’d better go after her,” Chris told his bodyguard. He flicked his eyes at Anna. “I think I’m safe here.”
Lars shrugged agreement and trotted after Lani. The housekeepers folded their last sheet and wheeled the linen cart out the door.
“Well.” Anna sighed. She
’d hoped her party could be a sort of apology to Chris. A tiny step toward making up for exposing his secret. “Well, that’s that. Thanks, anyway.”
“Perhaps,” Doris suggested, “you can hold your party somewhere else? Up at the sugar mill, for example? It’s across the parking lot from the pavilion, so guests could circulate back and forth.”
Chris shook his head. “The mill’s not ready for a big party.”
“We sometimes have to plunge ahead with things, ready or not.” His mother removed her housekeeping smock. “I have an appointment with Anna’s dad. Why don’t you show her the shed? Perhaps the two of you will get ideas.” She hung her smock on a hook and left.
An appointment with Daddy? “Wait!” Anna called, but Doris didn’t stop. What kind of appointment? Anna wondered if Chris had told his mom about their wedding. At breakfast, Anna had finally confessed the whole story to her father, expecting he’d bite her head off. But all he’d done was pat her hand and crack a joke about missing his one chance to eat lunch on a yacht.
She wished her dad were with her now. She couldn’t face Chris alone.
“OK.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’ll show you the shed.”
“You don’t have to,” Anna said. “I can organize a picnic.” No, that would be too much like their date at the sugar mill. “Or we could take a boat ride.” Which made her think of his yacht. “Or…spend an afternoon folding laundry?” Watching Chris soap his arms.
Anna’s eyes crossed.
Chris looked at her oddly. “Might as well see what’s there.” He led Anna out the door, past several unpainted cinderblock buildings. The shed turned out to be as big as the laundry, well-ventilated and pleasantly cool. Knowing Doris, Anna was not surprised to find the place dust free, with neatly-labeled plastic boxes stacked on wooden shelves. The shelves themselves were more surprising. Hand-crafted out of dark, rich wood, they looked like they belonged in someone’s library a hundred years ago.
“These are beautiful.” She ran her finger along the grain. “Where’d they come from?”
“My dad made them. Back when my parents owned the Paradise. The shelves used to be in the lobby.” Chris pointed to a photo by the door. “This was taken just before Dad passed away.”
Vacation Bride: A Billionaire Marriage of Convenience (Brides of Paradise Book 1) Page 10
