Tropical Trouble (Billionaire Romance)

by Stalls, Yvonne

  Tropical Trouble

  by

  Yvonne Stalls

  Copyright © 2016 Yvonne Stalls

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,

  dialogue, and everything else are products of the author's

  imagination. Any resemblance to people or events, living

  or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Tropical Trouble

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 1

  Oswald

  Oswald was going to kidnap his very first billionaire.

  Finally.

  Oswald stood on the deck of the Unsinkable II, and grinned into the wind. Beside him, Reeka, his right hand man, was steering the boat toward their next destination. It wasn't even nine in the morning, but they had already accomplished much in the last twenty four hours. There had been little short notice that the target would be in the area, and a mad scramble was the result.

  Oswald shook his head once. Such was the way of his work. Little notice, little time to prepare, and little consideration for the long list of things to be aligned for the job to actual be a success.

  But it would all be worth it.

  "There it is," said Reeka. His brow was furrowed with concentration, and perhaps a little fatigue. Oswald considered him a good lackey. Reliable. Not a whiff of complaint when things started to move quickly. Always reliable. Of course, even as a right hand man, Reeka was more than aware of the potential reward at the end of this little endeavour.

  Lifting a small pair of binoculars to his eyes, Oswald looked in the direction Reeka pointed.

  The profile of an island mottled the blue horizon, like a long dark beast pushing itself up from the depths of the sea.

  "Yagenda," Oswald said. It was not a question. Even though he had never set foot on it, he had studied every available detail of the place that he could in the last several hours.

  It was the intended destination of his target, and so now it was Oswald's. But seeing Yagenda, now, in all its South Pacific magnificence, gave a sort of solidity to what they were about to do.

  What he was about to do.

  "Kenneth!" he called out. "Front and center."

  From the below, a tall lanky man emerged from the open hatch. Even though the open area bridge was well covered from the blazing, morning sun, Kenneth squinted. Long hours of staring at monitors, no doubt.

  "Yes, sir?" Kenneth asked.

  "Any word, yet?" Oswald asked the group's technician. Although Kenneth could fire a gun as well, if not better, than the rest of them, the skinny man's magic with anything electronic made Oswald think of him as a techie first.

  Kenneth rubbed at his eyes, and shook his head. "Not, yet. Neither one has arrived at the harbor."

  Oswald frowned slightly, and blinked briefly up at the sun's location. Still too early. But that was fine. Things were almost in place. "Okay," he said. "Keep on it."

  Kenneth nodded once, then vanished into the maw of the boat. Below, were all of the accouterments of a lavish speed boat like this was expected to offer. Kenneth, with his array of gear and monitors, was set up in the dining area, claiming its table for himself. Once word arrived that the target was in play, things would get a whole lot more hectic.

  Just the way Oswald liked it.

  He felt a surge of adrenaline. The anticipation was building. Time for yet another double check.

  "Are the assets in position?" he asked Reeka.

  Reeka nodded. "All good, boss. Arrived before us. Everything is as tight as can be. And then some."

  Oswald nodded, but did not feel relieved. He had attempted to cover all his bases in the small amount of time they had, but he felt that it might not be enough.

  The billionaire, Paul Morgan, was known for his vast intelligence, and business cunning. But Oswald did not think he had the toolkit to deal with being snatched up off a tropical island. Especially when he would not even be expecting it. All indications was that he was alone on Tarangia, the main island. But rich people can be paranoid. Especially very rich ones.

  Apparently, Paul Morgan hadn't learnt that lesson yet.

  In a few short hours, he was about to.

  Reeka looked at the radar readout on a monitor. "Coming up on position one."

  Despite trusting Reeka's professionalism, Oswald found himself glancing at the radar. They had arrived at the coordinates.

  "Cut the engines," Oswald ordered. The engines burbled and died. Their constant grumbling over the last two hours were now replaced with the hard slapping of ocean waves against the boat.

  Reeka visibly relaxed a little. For the first time he allowed himself to sit in the captain's chair. The holstered pistol on his shoulder strap shifted with the movement.

  "It will be all good, my friend," Oswald told him. He could tell when his long time partner was getting nervous. This was a very big score for them. So big, it could very well be their last.

  "I know," said Reeka with a slight smile. "I just have... how do you say in English? Bees in my stomach?" He picked up his covered mug of coffee and took a sip. He grimaced. It was cold.

  Oswald laughed. "Butterflies. Butterflies in your stomach. That is okay. I have them, too. Go get some more coffee. You need the caffeine infusion. I got the helm."

  Reeka nodded, and took his cold mug down below for a much needed refill.

  Oswald stood before the ship's wheel even though it was unnecessary. They would not be moving from this spot for a while. From this vantage point they could easily monitor any ship approaching Yagenda from the main island. And, unless someone had direct business with an empty private island, with its abandoned resort, there should be none.

  Except for a billionaire.

  Billionaire.

  He grinned at the potential size of the ransom they will get for Paul Morgan. Not billions. Impractical. No, he would settle for several hundred million. Now that would be worth it. No more nickel and dime jobs. Just settle himself somewhere nice and hot.

  This was a far cry from his early days in the American east coast. Running crews for various bosses and organizations. Over the years, he had developed a reputation for kidnappings. Kidnappings where very lucrative. Snatch someone important enough, and get paid accordingly. He always kept the targets to the criminal underworld. Less of a pain. No police to deal with, and the money for the ransoms were always available. He always insured his targets had rich backers. Rarely did anyone get hurt.

  Or killed.

  Paul Morgan would not only be his first billionaire mark, he would be his first real civilian, too. No criminal organization to tangle with. Just his big fat bank account.

  He checked the horizon again with the binoculars. Nothing. Not that he was expecting to see Mr. Morgan approaching, yet. But once he did arrive Oswald was more than ready for him.

  Initially, Reeka was in favor of snatching him at sea. But there were too many factors that put the plan at risk. What if another boat came by? What if Morgan didn't stop and his boat was faster than the Unsinkable II? Shooting was absolutely not an option. Can't extract a life-time of wealth from a corpse.

  No, grabbing the billionaire while he was flat footed on the island, looking at a re
sort he will never own, was the safest course of action. Reeka eventually agreed, as he almost always did.

  Now they just had to wait. Mr. Morgan would deliver himself into his hands soon enough. As for the realtor's representative unfortunate enough to be taking Paul on his tour? So be it. That person would either be a hindrance, or a bonus and would be dealt with accordingly.

  Besides, how much trouble could a glorified island tour guide be?

  Chapter 2

  Lydia

  "Buy him chocolate. Billionaires love chocolate!"

  Lydia Jennings paused in her shopping, basket full of goods in one hand, and scowled down at her smart phone's image of her sister. "And what do you know about the eating habits of billionaires, Mary? When did this become a thing with you?"

  From the other side of the planet, in New York City, Mary allowed herself an expression of confusion. "Well, everything!" She blew her nose into a tissue. "I'm not just laying in bed, sick, just so you can prance around in the tropical sun by yourself. I've been doing research."

  Lydia rolled her eyes, and somehow managed to take a bag of peanuts off a shelf and place it in the basket.

  The clerk from behind the counter asked, "Need some help, ma'am?" He looked pointedly at Lydia's basket stuffed with snack food of various kinds.

  "No, thank you," Lydia said. "I'm almost done." She moved deeper down the aisle. The selection of goods in this tiny store was even more limited than she would have expected. Not that she expected much. But, when you have a potential client like Paul Morgan to cater too, you did what you could.

  Lydia switched off the phone's loud speaker and held it to her ear. "Do you have to announce to the world who I am meeting today? Can that be a secret please?"

  Mary blew her nose, again, honking in Lydia's ear. "Why? It's good advertising, isn't it? What if people need to know we serve billionaires? They might know a billionaire and refer us!"

  "Not this time," Lydia said. She was aware of the certain level of privacy Paul Morgan had cloaked himself with. Starting, and operating giant Internet companies made him rich at a very young age. Very, very rich. But he obviously didn't appreciate the attention such wealth brought him. Hardly any images of the man existed that she could find. Which, in this day and age, was kind of a miracle.

  Not that she minded. He was a client, and even though his representatives didn't state as such, privacy would be provided as best as Lydia could do. She just didn't need Paul Morgan's name shouted about for all to hear by her sister.

  "This time," Lydia said, "we keep things quiet. It's bad enough we had such short notice. Maybe that's a good thing. No time to advertise what we're up to." She and Mary had built up their Realtor business to the point that they could start representing big, international properties. They had people to handle the local listings, but the Jennings sisters would handle anything overseas.

  Preferably warm. With lots of beaches and tanned, hunky men.

  This resulted in their first big call. Someone was very interested in an old resort on Yagenda island, long abandoned by some bankrupt conglomerate. The listing price was huge. Colossal, even. Which meant the commission was a sizable percentage of colossal. Of course, Lydia and Mary jumped at the chance. But with Mary sick, Lydia had to handle it on her own.

  She grinned. "How you feeling, anyway?" She tried not to sound too smug.

  "How do you think? Like I'm on the edge of death!"

  Lydia went to the front counter and started to pull things out of the basket for the clerk to register in. She spotted a display of chocolate bars to one side.

  "Look, I'll give you an update when I can."

  "Call me from the island. No. Call me and tell me how handsome he is! He's single! Dammit! Why do I have to be sick?"

  "Because you're the lucky one," Lydia said, and almost cackled.

  "Fine. Just keep me updated. It's the only thing keeping me alive!"

  "Uh huh," Lydia said, and caught herself rolling her eyes. She then glared at the display of bars, and grabbed a big handful to put on the counter.

  "Did you get the chocolate?" Mary whined into her ear.

  "Nope," Lydia said, and hung up.

  Outside, she was slightly relieved to find her taxi still waiting for her. Not that she really expected him to take off with another tourist. There really weren't many around.

  I'm to used to New York taxis, she thought, as she piled the bags of snack food into the back seat. She noticed the driver leering at her, and glancing down her dress. Thankfully, she was wearing a bikini underneath.

  "Help, you, miss?" Mr. Leer asked. "Pretty thing like you shouldn't strain yourself. I can help with that."

  Lydia managed a laugh as she got in and slammed the door. "No, thanks. I can manage."

  "I don't doubt it," he said, and grinned.

  Ah, geez. "Take me to the pier, please." She wanted to rip a strip out of the guy, but for right now, she just needed to get the boat ready.

  "Okay, then." The driver said, with obvious disappointment.

  As they drove, Lydia started shoving bottled water, and soft drinks into the little cooler she had the foresight to buy on her arrival at Tarangia. She had arrived on an overnight flight, checked into the hotel, showered, and grabbed her work stuff before leaving to start her day. She had told the hotel staff not to expect her back until well after dark.

  No rest for the weary. Dollar bills danced before her vision. Some things were just worth losing a little sleep over. She can catch up later on a well paid for vacation. A long one. The commission would guarantee that.

  They drove at a moderate speed down narrow windy island roads. Houses of various sizes and costs, passed her vision. Most of it poor.

  Well, at least they have the sun year round. This weather beat the hip deep snow back home by a long shot.

  She checked the time on her phone. It was going to be tight, but if the ship her company had booked was already prepped, and fuelled she would be good to go, once Paul Morgan arrived.

  Paul Morgan. Single.

  Thanks, Mary. I didn't need to be reminded of that.

  Lydia had recently dumped her loser boyfriend, Terry. It was such a bad break up that she resolved never to date another Terry, again. Ever. All Terry's in the world were completely off limits.

  "So, where are you going today, with all that food?" the driver suddenly asked.

  "On a boat," she said. She was on the verge of offering to pay this man double fare just to shut up.

  "Ah, a boat!" he said in the manner a child might when finding a prize at the bottom of a box of teeth rotting candy. "As an islander, boats are second nature to me. I can help. Maybe be your captain."

  "No, thank you. I have one already." No need to get into it with this guy.

  The man made a tsk tsk sound and shook his head with exaggerated disappointment. "Ah, to spend the day on the sea with a beautiful woman like you would be something a man could treasure for the rest of his life."

  Laying it on a little thick, aren't ya buddy? She thought. Outwardly she just laughed, but politely. She appreciated the compliment. She just didn't need such a compliment today, of all days.

  "Thanks, but I'm meeting my boyfriend." That was a good lie.

  "Ah, lucky man, then."

  He was, she thought. He just didn't know it. The fool.

  Mercifully, before the driver could make another impassioned go at her, they pulled up to the pier's entrance. Through a long chain link fence could be see dozens of boats, with the vast ocean spread out past the horizon behind them.

  Lydia paid the driver, gathered up her day bag and the cooler, and hopped out. As she walked away the driver called out, "Don't sink, now, baby girl!"

  Oh, please, she thought. The cooler was a little heavy, and the hot morning sun was beating down on her. Already, she was starting to sweat up a storm.

  It will make for a great first impression.

  Next to the pier's gate was a tiny building with the sign above saying '
Harbor Master'. She made her way toward it, and pushed her way through its glass door.

  After some muddling with the harbor master, she managed to pick up the ship booking Mary had made for her. It was a forty footer, with high powered engines, and already fully fuelled. Considering the price it had better be.