Secrets Made in Paradise

by Natalie Anderson

  She blinked, pleased to discover he was still there. Still smiling. Still walking towards her. As he neared, she saw his face in greater detail—chiselled jaw, lips curved in an open smile—but it was the deep, dark brown eyes that ensnared her—cocoa-ringed black coffee, two of her favourite things and they were impossible to turn away from. She’d encountered a bunch of handsome tourists in her few months on the Galapagos so far, but none like this guy. And it wasn’t his jaw-dropping handsome features—each one alone enough to melt any woman—it was the confident, casual manner with which he moved. He had an aura of easy assurance together with an indefinable quality that commanded attention even here, in one of the most untamed, unique places in the world where there were mind-blowing wonders to see in every direction.

  Emmy grew conscious of her green bikini—not that it was skimpy, but it hardly hid her curves. Sadly her kaftan was further up the sand in a heap of worn silk, beneath the watchful gaze of one of the many resting sea lions. She’d spent the day combing the beaches for any small pieces of plastic as part of her volunteer placement with the Flores Foundation and had come to the water to cool off and have some quiet time.

  ‘You might want to watch out for my friend there.’ She jerked her head towards the nearby sea lion as the man set down the old rucksack he’d had slung over one shoulder. An ancient wetsuit sleeve poked out of the broken zipper opening.

  ‘He’s possessive?’ The handsome man cast a curious glance at the creature.

  ‘And he has a few friends a few more feet away.’

  He nodded and turned back to her with a smile. ‘Amazing, isn’t it? An incredible beach with beautiful, wild things everywhere.’

  ‘Yes.’ But she shied away from the glint of intimacy and double meaning in his eyes. ‘There’s so much beauty, it’s hard to know where to look.’

  ‘Oh, I know exactly where to look.’ He watched her intently.

  She couldn’t break away from his gaze and as she watched, a wicked smile backlit his eyes.

  ‘I’ve been admiring the boobies,’ he added softly.

  She rolled her eyes, but he’d said it so lightly, with such a disarming smile, that it didn’t sound either sleazy or cheesy when rightfully it ought to have been both. ‘Really.’

  ‘You know, the bluer the feet, the more attractive the bird,’ he added conversationally, as if he’d been talking about the birds all along.

  The red-and blue-footed boobies were unique to the Galapagos—some curious, some ambivalent, all fascinating.

  ‘And you know it’s the males who need to woo their mate,’ she said. ‘They’re the ones who have to look good and do all the hard work.’

  His grin widened to one of pure appreciation. ‘Dance well? Strut hard and puff out their chests?’

  ‘Generally look ridiculous, yes.’

  ‘Ridiculous?’ He pressed his hand to his very fine chest. ‘Ouch.’ Laughter crinkled the corners of his eyes.

  His smile was the sort that stole hearts at first glance. Her pulse, already thready, sped faster. ‘You shouldn’t be here, you know.’

  ‘It’s private?’

  ‘It’s late,’ she corrected. ‘You might get lost trying to find your way back.’

  ‘Is there a dragon who appears at dusk, to protect its fair maiden?’

  Fair maiden? Really? She bit back a laugh. ‘Perhaps I’m the dragon. My hair only hints at my fire.’

  ‘That I can believe.’ He slowly smiled again.

  ‘Yet it doesn’t scare you off?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ he said breezily. ‘I’m not afraid of getting burned.’

  She laughed out loud at that. ‘Perhaps you should be. You shouldn’t be scarred.’

  His eyebrows danced upwards. ‘Maybe my skin is thick and impenetrable and thus does a very good job of protecting my vital organs.’

  ‘Such as your heart?’ She nodded with another little laugh, so not surprised by that idea. ‘So if you’re so well armoured, then your prey must surely be at greater risk.’

  ‘Risk? From me?’ He smiled but there was seriousness in his eyes and he slowly shook his head. ‘Dragons are rare and potentially vulnerable, and I don’t think beautiful wild creatures should be either tamed or slain. Ideally they’re not hurt in any way. I think they should be admired and appreciated and allowed to remain free.’

  Of course he did—how safe for him. She suspected he was the wildest of all the beautiful creatures—not her at all. But she chuckled at the weak flirtation.

  ‘What’s your name?’ he asked.

  ‘Emerald.’

  ‘Green?’ He frowned slightly. ‘You could be Sapphire, for your eyes.’

  ‘I think my parents hoped my eyes might darken that way...’

  ‘But you did your own thing?’

  ‘Always.’ It was a bit of bravado, because she hadn’t always. But she did now. She’d learned well. Independence was everything. But perhaps, not isolation—not all the time. Not when she was confronted with a temptation like no other. Her heart thudded faster as he smiled.

  ‘You could be Ruby for your hair, Pearl for your smile or Goldie for your skin—’

  ‘Oh, no.’ She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness. ‘That’s too much of a leap. You can’t get past these...’ She pointed at the freckles on her arm, an example of the speckles that covered her all over.

  ‘They’re beautiful.’ He shrugged lightly. ‘The sun has kissed where I want to.’

  Her jaw dropped that time. ‘They’re everywhere.’

  ‘Precisely.’

  ‘Oh.’ She flushed awkwardly. ‘Smooth.’

  He laughed, a light teasing dare. ‘You’re such a treasure, I think I should call you preciosa.’

  ‘Sure. You can do that.’ She rolled her eyes.

  His Spanish flowed and she suspected he was perfectly bilingual, in fact he probably spoke other languages too. He had an air of complete capability—as if he’d be a champion surfer as well, a super-achiever in all areas of life.

  ‘And what should I call you?’ she asked.

  ‘Ramon.’ There’d been the slightest hesitation before he replied. ‘Why are you here?’ he asked. ‘All alone and looking like you just emerged from the sea like some mythical creature destined to destroy the heart of some poor hapless man?’

  ‘I already told you.’ She smiled. ‘I’m waiting for the moon to complete my transformation into a dragon. And you’re hardly hapless—you have that flame-proof skin, right?’

  ‘So I’ve always thought.’ His gaze dipped before flicking back up to her face.

  That frisson travelled along her wiring, electrifying her circuitry. She saw the flash of recognition in his cocoa and coffee eyes. It didn’t matter what they were saying—the weak innuendo and frothy banter was amusing but ultimately meaningless. Because it was already there, that connection forged between them at first glance. Absolute and instant attraction, translating to heat and want. And Emmy—who’d never encouraged even the slightest of flirtations, who’d never actually felt the desire to before—found herself sliding at speed into the ultimate temptation. For the first time, she reached for a moment she truly wanted, a moment with a man for herself.

  ‘Shall I show you something even more beautiful?’ she asked huskily.

  His eyes widened. ‘Yes, please.’

  The bay was stunningly private. A colourful Sally Lightfoot crab scuttled and under the watchful gaze of wildlife unafraid of human contact, she trod a path known only to a few. Emmy didn’t trust other people the way these animals did. It was only a short walk to another, smaller bay even more private than the first. It was rarely visited; people didn’t get past that other one, thinking they’d made it to paradise already. But it was here, hidden and safe. Set back from the sand was an old wooden boat shed that belonged to her boss, Lucero Flores. It was his private p
lace, set on the very edge of his holdings.

  ‘This is incredible,’ Ramon muttered as he reached out to take her hand as naturally and easily as breathing.

  Emmy’s pulse stumbled.

  It was a stunning, magical secret but for the first time she was happy to share it. ‘Isn’t it?’

  Time stretched as they walked the length of the beach and explored the shed—laughingly dodging the wildlife unafraid to make it their home already. And somehow that invisible connection pulled them together. A languorous heat invaded her limbs, slowing her movements as he closed the last gap to brush his lips across hers. That frisson of electricity skated down her spine and radiated along her limbs.

  ‘Ramon,’ she breathed. ‘Ramon.’

  It was the oddest, most delicious thing. She was melting, while at the same time energy coiled deep within. With a sigh she let it release, lost in sensations she’d not known she was capable of. All she knew was that she wanted more.

  * * *

  Emmy woke with a start, the soft cotton sheets tangled around her and her own voice echoing in her head. The dream wasn’t a dream, it was a memory—every word real and she was burning as hot as the moment it had actually happened. Horrified, she clutched the sheet and sat up—she’d been moaning his name!

  Or at least, his other name.

  She gazed at the open door where light gleamed and quickly scrambled from the bed. She was utterly mortified, hoping she hadn’t woken her son. Or that anyone else had heard her. She ran along the corridor and into Luke’s room but froze on the threshold. The sheets were pulled back to reveal his empty cot.

  Panic hit like a bucket of iced water. She froze where seconds ago she’d been searing. She hurriedly returned to her room, pulled on her dress. With a push of a button the heavy curtains slid back from the large windows. She stared out in horror. The marina was missing. There was only the vast blue of the pristine Pacific Ocean. They were no longer off the coast of Santa Cruz. In fact, now she’d stopped to think, she realised the yacht was actually moving and she had no idea where they were. Or where Luke was. Not stopping to drag a comb through her curls, she sprinted upstairs, cursing the size of the yacht and all the confusing levels.

  ‘Javier?’ she called as she finally found the dining deck. ‘Where—’ She broke off, startled to see two suited men seated at the table with a far too relaxed-looking Javier.

  Who were they? When had they arrived? Where was Luke?

  ‘Ah, Emmy.’ Javier stood before she could ask any of the billion questions flooding her head. ‘Come through, Luke will be excited to see you.’ He sheltered her from the eyes of those two men. ‘He’s just through here.’

  ‘You left him alone?’ Emmy whispered as she followed him down another corridor.

  ‘Of course not.’

  A few feet from the open doorway she could see Luke safely ensconced on a play mat with one of the crew. ‘Why didn’t you wake me?’

  ‘You were fast asleep, I didn’t want to disturb you.’

  Emmy froze. He’d seen her sleeping? Fragments of that dream—that memory—assailed her, smothering her with hot embarrassment...and painful yearning.

  She shook the weakness off. That evening hadn’t been magical, it had been a mistake. He’d had condoms in his bag—more than one—like the carefree casual sex-slayer he was. And they’d used them—reckless yes, but not stupid. But they’d not realised at the time that one had failed.

  She blinked and focused on Luke. The best thing to ever hit her life was sitting in the middle of the massive lounge, his worn play mat had been replaced and a vast assortment of new toys were scattered about him—wooden stacking boxes, several soft-looking small balls and some cute carved animals. One of the stewards was kneeling beside him, playing peek-a-boo. At their arrival the steward stood and looked to Javier, who nodded in dismissal, and she swiftly disappeared out of the far door.

  ‘There’s a nanny—’

  ‘You’ve engaged a nanny?’ she interrupted him in a fierce whisper. ‘Without even meeting her?’

  ‘I’m meeting him now,’ Javier explained with exaggerated patience. ‘He’s one of the men back in the dining room.’

  ‘Him?’ Emmy’s blood pounded loudly in her ears.

  ‘You have a problem with that?’

  ‘I have a problem with not having any input.’ She shook her head. ‘And I know what you’re going to say—you haven’t had any in the last nine months.’

  ‘Calm down, Emmy. Yes, I’m angry and, yes, I’m going to need time, but I’m not completely insensitive. You know Luke best, so I was waiting for you to interview the nanny with me, and there are other CVs we can go through if you’re not comfortable with how this one checks out.’

  ‘How did you get him here already?’

  ‘I don’t sleep as soundly as you,’ he muttered. ‘I arranged it through the night.’

  The truth was she hadn’t slept soundly at all—it had taken hours to fall asleep and when she finally had, she’d been tormented by repeats of that dream.

  ‘But before we interview him, there’s someone else who’d like to talk to you briefly,’ Javier added before disappearing back down the corridor.

  Emmy scooped up Luke and watched worriedly as Javier returned with the older of the two men.

  ‘I’ve spent a lovely half-hour with your son this morning.’ The man smiled at her patronisingly. ‘I’m Dr Morales, a children’s specialist.’

  Emmy forced herself to maintain her smile but she was shocked. Javier had had a paediatrician look over their son?

  ‘I only had a couple of questions,’ he said amiably enough. ‘Has Luke ever been on any regular medication?’

  ‘No, never.’ She shook her head. ’He’s been very healthy. Only a little grizzly with his first tooth and a small cold once.’

  ‘He’s a lovely boy.’ The doctor smiled down at her. ‘You’ve cared for him well.’

  Emmy was so angry she couldn’t think of an adequate response. Fortunately Javier led him away moments later, only to return and tell her it was time to meet the prospective nanny.

  That interview process was easy. She sat Luke on her knee and read over the man’s résumé while Javier grilled him to the point that Emmy actually felt bad for the guy. His CV was insanely impressive—not only were there papers on child psychology, nutrition and development in his four-year degree, there were courses in defensive driving, cybersecurity and escaping the paparazzi. It took only moments for her to understand that Javier wouldn’t allow anyone on board and near Luke who wasn’t utterly overqualified and from some elite school. He was used to the best and expected the best from everyone in his life. And he wanted only the best for his son. It was terrifying.

  ‘Emmy?’

  She belatedly realised Javier was waiting for her to ask a question.

  ‘Would you mind a probation period, Thomas?’ she asked. ‘And if you work under observation with Luke initially?’

  ‘Of course.’ He smiled.

  Javier looked at her and she nodded. She was shamefully glad that there wasn’t going to be a pretty nanny staying with them. She knew it was ridiculous of her. She had no right to be jealous of any imaginary nanny being around Javier—she had no hold over him. It was Luke she was really concerned about. But she wasn’t going to lose time with her son. As she had no job the nanny was going to be virtually redundant most of the time. But that wasn’t her problem. Javier wanted to make some decisions here, this was one she wouldn’t fight.

  An hour later Emmy sat with Thomas, the new nanny, as he met Luke. Through the open doorway she saw Javier casually guide Dr Morales to the helicopter that had appeared on the top rear deck. She had no idea how she’d slept through the arrival of a helicopter. Or through the boat engine firing up and moving them so far from her home.

  It scared her that Javier had achieved so mu
ch so quickly, but she masked her concerns, staying with Luke and the new nanny until it was time for her son to take a nap. Then she stayed until her son fell asleep, quietly talking Thomas through Luke’s routines. Eventually a steward appeared and invited Thomas to follow him so he could get a tour of the yacht.

  Emmy took the baby monitor she’d discovered with her so she could hear if Luke woke. Then she walked up the stairs to discover Javier sitting back on the pool deck, looking as if he hadn’t a care in the world. As he caught her eye his chin lifted. Something sparked in his expression, as if he’d been waiting for her to find him.

  ‘You know, I don’t need your fancy doctor to tell me I’ve done a good job, like some patronising man...’ She inhaled deeply. ‘I know I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve done the best I could.’

  ‘I know that.’ Javier’s gaze narrowed on her. ‘Maybe the doctor should’ve checked you over too. You still look tired even though you slept late.’

  ‘It takes more than one night to recover from months of sleep deprivation.’ She tried to snatch a breath and calm down, but it was a losing battle. ‘I don’t need anyone to look me over,’ she muttered. ‘I’m perfectly healthy.’

  ‘Then it won’t be a problem for him to see you. We can recall the chopper—’

  ‘Don’t you dare,’ she snapped. ‘That would be such an invasion of my privacy. I won’t have him reporting to you on my well-being.’

  ‘So I’m not to be concerned about you in any way?’

  ‘No. You’re not. Stop trying to do the “right” thing all the time.’

  ‘Stop what?’ He frowned deeply at her. ‘You really don’t trust my intentions, do you?’

  ‘And you really don’t trust me,’ she answered. ‘I understand it, but to think that Luke might be unwell in some way...? Or that I might have mistreated him...? Or not cared for him properly...? I have put him first in every way I can—’ She broke off.