Secret Paradise (Kimani Romance)

by Girard, Dara

  “Nearly. At this point it’s touch and go. The doctors are doing everything they can for him.”

  “What happened?” Nikki asked when her sister remained silent.

  “An explosion at his mansion caused a massive fire, and he and Callia were trapped inside and barely escaped. He was badly burned. They had to put him into a coma. His brother Basilio just called me. He wants us to be prepared in case…”

  Monica shook her head. “He’s strong.” She returned to her drafting table, as if everything was settled. J.D. shared a look with Nikki. If she wanted to be in denial, who was he to stop her?

  Nikki frowned. “Monica, you can’t pretend that he may not make it.”

  Monica spun around and glared at her sister. “I’m not pretending anything. I know Lucian Kontos and I know that a man like him will live.”

  Nikki rolled her eyes. “Monica—”

  “No.”

  J.D. shook his head. “Honey—”

  Monica looked at him, her lips pursed. “He’ll get through this.” She pointed a pencil at him. “When we went to his island for our honeymoon, I was still having nightmares about my past and couldn’t stop. Do you know what he said? He said that if anything ever happened to you, he’d take care of me. That I was his family, too, and it was real. He sees you as a brother. You can’t give up on him.”

  J.D. threw up his hands in frustration. “I’m not giving up on him. I’ve known him for years. I love him as much as you do, but I know about his injuries. He’s been badly burned. This is a man who loves life, and all that it has to offer. He’ll be undergoing several surgeries, but we have to admit that in spite of all the therapy and plastic surgery he may be able to afford, there’s still a limitation to what medicine can do. He may not regain the use of his arm or ever walk again. Even if he lives, he won’t be the same man.”

  “He’ll recover,” Monica said defiantly.

  J.D. folded his arms and looked grim.

  Nikki stiffened. “There’s something else you’re not telling us.”

  J.D. nodded. “It’s about the explosion. They think it was arson.”

  “Someone tried to kill him?” Monica asked.

  “They’re investigating. His brother is looking into all possibilities.”

  “I’m sure it was a simple accident,” Nikki said, reading the look of horror on Monica’s face.

  Monica shook her head. “That house is enormous. He should have had time to escape.”

  “Fires move fast,” Nikki said.

  “Mama?” a tiny voice said through the baby monitor.

  Nikki stood. “I’ll get her,” she said quickly, then left before anyone could argue.

  Monica watched her sister go, then returned her gaze to J.D. “Are you going to see him?”

  “When I can. He’s in a secret location, and I’ll wait for word from his brother when it seems safe.”

  “Call him back and tell him to tell Lucian about the baby.”

  J.D. searched her face, confused. “The baby? What baby?”

  She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. “Ours.”

  “You’re pregnant?”

  She winked.

  For a moment J.D. just stared at her, not knowing what to say or even how to feel. At first he felt an almost intoxicating joy; then, as he thought of his friend, guilt and sadness mingled with it.

  “He’s in a coma,” J.D. said in a grave tone. “There’s no point.”

  “But part of him may hear. The part that wants to live.” Monica caressed the side of his face. “He will live.”

  J.D. gathered her close. He closed his eyes, determined to believe her—feeling her warmth and strength and courage. She was right. Lucian was a tough SOB. He would rise like the phoenix.

  “Good job!” Nikki said, clapping her hands when Starla threw a stick for the family dog, Baxter, to retrieve. It had barely gone a foot, but Nikki acted as if little Starla had the makings of a javelin thrower. Starla giggled, delighting in her aunt’s praise, and Baxter picked up the stick, his tail wagging. They played in the front yard, where Nikki had taken them after Starla’s nap. She enjoyed being in the outdoors, especially on warm summer days like this. Were she alone, she would be lazing on the porch with a cool glass of iced tea.

  “Now it’s my turn,” she said when Baxter dropped the stick at her feet. She picked it up and threw it far enough to give the dog some exercise.

  “Good job!” a voice said behind her.

  Nikki turned and saw her sister coming out of the house. She held up a hand. “Stop right there.”

  Monica paused, puzzled. “What?”

  “Do I know you from somewhere? You look vaguely familiar. Has anyone ever told you that you should model?” Nikki chuckled as she took a seat on the porch step.

  Monica made a face. “Shut up,” she said in good humor.

  “Don’t you sometimes miss those days?” Nikki asked, referring to her sister’s past as a top fashion model.

  Monica sat on the porch step above hers. “No. When I’m here, I feel richer than I’ve ever been.”

  Nikki could see it. Her sister glowed with good health and happiness. “I’m glad.”

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier.”

  Nikki shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time we argued about a man.”

  Monica lowered her head and Nikki fell silent, because they both knew that was true. Nikki had never taken to Monica’s first husband, Delong Price, who’d whisked Monica away and launched her as the international beauty named Venus: a symbol of sex, glamour and elegance. But now those days were over. Nikki looked around her. Her sister and J.D. owned a slice of heaven here. They called it a farmhouse, but over the years it had expanded into a magnificent piece of architecture, while retaining its wholesome feel and charm. Nikki found herself spending any free moment she could find visiting her sister and her family.

  She’d never been this close to her sister since they were children. Delong had liked to keep Monica to himself, and if she wasn’t with him, she was working. Now she had her own business and a more relaxed schedule and a man who let her be completely herself. Nikki liked J.D. At first glance she wouldn’t have selected him for Monica. He was handsome, with the cool command of a businessman and the slight ruthlessness that went with it, but she’d never seen that side of him. Only kindness. At times Nikki imagined meeting her own J.D. but always brushed the thought aside. Her sister’s life could never be hers. She did wonder about Lucian though. Anytime J.D. or Monica talked about him, she found herself listening closer. He intrigued her. She knew he’d come to visit a few times, but they always seemed to miss each other. Monica had once mentioned that Lucian had commented on her design skills.

  They’d allowed her to infuse the farmhouse with their African American and Native American heritage, and she’d used aging cedar, with ancestral images hand carved into the walls. The front door featured unique symbols of good fortune, but she’d learned what Lucian liked most were the series of retractable skylights she put in the family room. She would have liked to find out what else he’d like, but now it seemed she might never get the chance to meet him.

  Baxter returned and dropped the stick in front of them. Monica picked it up and threw it. Starla giggled and Nikki clapped and said in mocking tones, “Good job! Beautiful and strong.”

  Monica playfully punched her in the arm. “You’re a nuisance.”

  Nikki rested back on her elbows and looked up at the sky. “Did you tell him about the baby?”

  “Yes, just a few minutes ago.”

  Nikki looked at her, curious. “How did he take it?”

  “He’s thrilled.”

  “I would have waited until another time.”

  Monica shrugged. “I know J.D. He needed something to smile about. He’s really worried about Lucian.”

  “I hope your friend makes it.”

  Monica pulled a picture out of her pocket and handed it to her. “This is his house.”


  Nikki took the photograph and stared at the expansive mansion. “I know. You showed it to me before.” She’d been amazed by the honeymoon photos Monica had shown her of Lucian’s island. Lush, romantic, exclusive. She would have loved the chance to see inside his house. But she’d never been bold enough to invite herself. However, although there were pictures of the island and mansion, there were none of the man. In one photo she’d seen a shadowy figure in the background, but it had been too blurry to make out any features. Monica had told her Lucian didn’t like to have his photo taken and kept to himself.

  Nikki handed the photo back to Monica, confused as to why her sister had given it to her. “Most of it has been burned, right?”

  “Yes, he’s going to need to rebuild.”

  “I’m sure he will.”

  “And redesign it.”

  Nikki frowned, suspicious. “Where are you going with this?”

  “He’s going to need you.”

  Nikki laughed. “Me? Why me?”

  “Because you’re the best.”

  Nikki smiled. “And?”

  “And what?”

  Nikki narrowed her eyes. “You’re up to something.”

  “His place is awe-inspiring.”

  “So is the Taj Mahal.”

  “Once you get to know him—”

  Nikki shook her head. “I’m seeing someone already.”

  “I saw the way you looked at his house.”

  “Because it’s amazing.”

  Monica smiled. “Wait until you meet the man.”

  Chapter 2

  Four years later

  “You bitch!”

  Nikki heard the shattering glass just as she entered her office.

  “You need to stop looking in the mirror.”

  Nikki ducked as a handcrafted vase she’d purchased in Peru went flying past her. She straightened and saw two finely groomed women ready to pulverize each other. Only minutes ago she’d received a frantic call from her assistant, Abby Lagoria, that she had an unexpected guest in her office. The tone of the call had surprised her because usually Abby was unflappable. She was a woman who had the kind of face suited for a cubicle. Non-smiling, dreary and forgettable, but Nikki had hired her because she was efficient. She had a remarkable ability to get things done. No one canceled on her, and bills were always paid. Nothing seemed beyond her capabilities—until now. Evidently here was a situation beyond her. This was a crisis.

  The mistress of Senator Allwater had shown up without an appointment. Nikki never saw clients or potential clients without an appointment. It was the best way to train people in how to treat her. She’d discovered early on that you couldn’t be too available to the upper class, or they’d devalue you. Exclusivity was a must. And she was very exclusive. Unfortunately, the usually refined Meredith Weedon had broken protocol, and so had Elissa Gold, Allwater’s second mistress. They’d come to her office, both laying claim to the newly designed apartment he’d paid for.

  Meredith, his first mistress, was almost an exact replica of Allwater’s wife: old money and new breasts. His second mistress was a midlife crisis cliché—early twenties, tight clothes and big earrings. She had an expensive beauty that would grow more costly as she aged, because she likely wouldn’t age well. She was reckless with her skin care and smoked and drank as if they were a dietary requirement. But she was young enough to keep the consequences of her behavior at bay, for at least a decade.

  Meredith was no less expensive, just better at maintaining herself. Good breeding and care had given her an advantage, but while Meredith was more sophisticated, Elissa was more clever than she looked. Allwater usually kept them separate. The fact that they were both here meant that something had gone terribly wrong.

  Meredith flicked back a strand of blond hair, her hand trembling with anger. “I was with him first and have known him a lot longer than you.”

  Elissa’s full, pouty mouth spread into a cold smile. “Honey, every man eventually likes to get a younger model.”

  “New toys always get replaced.”

  Elissa’s smile fell and she picked up a glass statue of two swans in the shape of a heart.

  Nikki had had enough. “Put that down,” she said. She saw Elissa’s mouth kick up in a quick malicious grin. “Drop it and I’ll throw a punch that will have you flying through that window.”

  Elissa blinked, surprised by Nikki’s violent threat, and slowly set the statue down when she realized from Nikki’s stance that she wasn’t bluffing. “Who are you?”

  “The owner of this place,” Abby said, disgusted by the woman’s ignorance.

  “Oh, the decorator.”

  “The designer,” Nikki corrected.

  “She wouldn’t know the difference,” Meredith said with disdain.

  Elissa narrowed her eyes. “I know the difference between a cow and a heifer.”

  “Sure you do, dear. They were your parents,” Meredith returned.

  Nikki spoke up before Elissa lunged at Meredith. “Now, let’s be civil.” She stepped forward and winced at the sound of crunching glass beneath her feet. “I think we can come up with a compromise. There’s enough room to accommodate both of you. I will create two entirely separate apartments—each with its own entrance—and will design your own special space to reflect you intimately, a space that will keep your favorite playboy entertained for life.” She knew she’d hit on the perfect solution when Meredith began asking for a gazillion mirrors and chandeliers, while Elissa requested items for a “naughty” lair to call her own. She recorded their requests and made two separate appointments for further discussion. “Consider it done. I’ll let Angelo know that I’ll be making some changes,” she said, using Allwater’s code name.

  After the two women left, Nikki collapsed into her chair.

  “I’m so sorry,” Abby said, glancing around the room. “They just showed up and then—”

  “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

  Her phone rang and Abby answered. She put it on hold and turned to Nikki. “It’s Benjamin.”

  Nikki groaned. Benjamin Leano was a bad habit she needed to break. She thought of coming up with an excuse not to talk to him, then sighed and held out her hand. Abby gave her the phone, then left the room.

  “You’re in town?” she said, trying not to sound bored.

  “Yes,” he said, surprised. “How did you know?”

  It wasn’t a hard deduction. He called her only when he was in town. He was a photojournalist who traveled the world but managed to remember her whenever he was in New York. Two years ago it had seemed like a great arrangement, but now it was wearing thin. “Just a guess.”

  “What’s wrong? You sound distracted.”

  She looked around her office at the broken vases, the glass, the crooked picture and the tilted plant. She briefly shut her eyes, feeling the slight pounding of an oncoming headache. “Client issues.”

  “Poor baby. Let me take you out.”

  “That sounds good, but I’m busy.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “This isn’t working.”

  “I’ll wait if you need to switch phones.”

  “Not the lines, us.”

  He paused. “You want something more? Marriage? Fine. I’ll marry you.”

  Nikki laughed at his flippant attitude. “No, I don’t want to marry you.”

  “Why not?”

  “Benjamin, you don’t want to get married.”

  “That’s not the point. Why wouldn’t you want to marry me? I’m a great catch.”

  “Yes, for someone else.”

  “Are you interested in someone else? Are you seeing another man?”

  “No, it’s not that.” She was just bored. Everything about her life had become routine. The wealthy clients and their tirades, the social events. There were no happy surprises or new discoveries. “I just need a break.”

  “We don’t have to go to—”

  “Sorry. I have another call I have to take. I’ll call you later.” Sh
e hung up before he could argue.

  Abby came into the room, looking composed again. She straightened the tilted plant. “I’ve called housekeeping.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Is Benjamin stopping by?”

  “No, never again.”

  “Good.”

  Nikki looked at her, shocked. “What do you mean?”

  “You deserve better. When are you going to start designing your own home?”

  “I’ve already designed my place.”

  Abby shook her head. “No, not a place. A home—with a fully furnished kitchen and a big family room.”

  “And a picket fence and lawn?” Nikki shook her head and laughed. “You’re talking to the wrong sister. That’s not me.”

  “Everyone deserves their own space, where they feel complete.”

  “Right.”

  She knew that better than most. That was why she’d become a designer. She knew what a room could do, how it could make a person feel. But she didn’t need a home of her own. She really liked her apartment and the friends and parties she hosted there. She was just restless. She only wished she knew what to do. She was young, attractive, with a good job and nothing really to complain about, yet she felt like running away.

  Nikki stood. “What I need is a challenge. Something big and a little scary. Something to test my skills. Unpredictable.” She looked around her destroyed office and groaned. She obviously wouldn’t find it here. She needed the outdoors; she thought better there. “I’m going to go for a walk.” She grabbed her bag and sunglasses.

  Nikki walked several blocks, but the restless feeling still followed. She crossed over to go into Central Park. Then her phone rang. “Yes?” she said as she saw a driver give another the finger and a young child drop his ice cream on the pavement and burst into tears.

  “It’s Monica. Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure.” She stepped around a pile of dog poop someone had neglected to pick up. “What’s up?”

  “It’s Lucian.”

  She stopped. “Has something happened? He’s been out of the hospital for some time now and I thought he was doing fine.”

  “He is,” Monica said quickly to reassure her.