by Judy Duarte
“Tanner’s married to Jordana Fortune, Wendy’s sister. He also owns a flight school and charter service. And I booked the trip with him.”
Okay, so the “idea man” had clearly made some solid travel plans in advance, using family connections. The passport requirement suggested they’d be leaving the country, maybe flying to Mexico or the Caribbean. If that was the case, the swimsuits and summer clothing made sense.
“You’re still not going to tell me where we’re going?” she asked.
“Does it matter?”
“Not really.”
“Good. Let’s go to the patio and spend the required time with our guests, then we can get the trip under way. Sawyer said he’d drop us off at the airport.”
So Miguel had everything under control.
Nicole had told him earlier that it didn’t matter where they were going. After all, she hadn’t given the honeymoon much thought since it was only a facade, just as the wedding ceremony had been.
But as they started toward the arched doorway that led to the patio, Miguel placed his hand on the small of her back, sending a spiral of heat to her core and triggering thoughts of romance and moonlit walks in the sand.
Moments ago, she’d thought it didn’t matter where they went. In fact, she wouldn’t have minded if they’d just stayed at home in Red Rock.
But now, as Miguel slipped his arm around her waist, claiming her as his bride, the details of their trip seemed to matter a whole lot more than they had before. And she couldn’t help wondering what her husband, the “idea man,” had planned for the next seven days.
* * *
Sawyer, who couldn’t fit them in the sporty Jaguar XK convertible he owned, drove Nicole and Miguel to Red Rock Regional Airport in Nicole’s Lexus.
“I’ll be back to pick you up on Friday afternoon,” he told Miguel, when he dropped them and their luggage off at the curb. “You’ve got my number. Just give me a call if there’s some reason you won’t arrive on time.”
Miguel thanked his friend, not just for the ride to the airport, but for setting up the flight. When Sawyer had learned that Miguel was going to take Nicole to the Yucatán Peninsula on a commercial airline, he’d suggested they use a charter service—as a wedding gift from him.
“It’s too much,” Miguel had said.
“No, it’s not. I’ll get the family rate. Besides, you can return the favor by covering my tab on opening night at Mendoza’s.”
“You got a deal,” Miguel had said.
Now, as Sawyer pulled away from the curb, Miguel escorted Nicole into the waiting area just off the lobby of the two-story terminal. “Laurel Redmond said she’d meet us there,” said Miguel.
“I thought the pilot’s name was Tanner.”
“Tanner owns the charter service as well as a flight school and had planned to take us. But he called me earlier this morning, saying there’d been a slight change in plans. His sister will be our pilot today. But I’m sure she’s just as competent. She racked up her flying experience while she was in the Air Force.”
“Impressive,” Nicole said.
He thought so, too.
Ten minutes later, they were met by an attractive, blue-eyed blonde, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her demeanor all business.
“Mr. Mendoza?” she asked. “I’m Laurel Redmond.”
He reached out his hand in greeting. “Please, call me Miguel. And this is my wife, Nicole.”
It felt a little surreal to be claiming her as his wife, yet that’s what she was now. At least, for the time being.
“It’s a good day for a flight,” Laurel said. “The weather should be nice all the way.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Miguel reached for his suitcase.
“Then let’s go.” Laurel led the way out of the terminal and to the plane, a Beechcraft King Air 350.
When they reached the open door with a built-in stairway that enabled them to board, Nicole turned to Miguel. “Are you still keeping our destination a surprise?”
He chuckled. “No, not anymore. We’re going to Suenos del Sol, a beachfront resort on the Yucatán Peninsula.”
“Your uncle’s place?” she asked.
For a moment he questioned his choice, realizing she might not feel the same way he did about his favorite vacation spot.
“It’s certainly not a five-star hotel,” he said, “but I think you’ll like it.”
“I’m sure I will.” She flashed him a pretty smile that validated her words. “You used to talk about it all the time when we were in high school, about how your family used to stay there sometimes. And I thought it sounded like a cool place.”
Back then, when they’d been teenagers in love and he’d actually believed they stood a chance of having a real marriage, he’d thought the resort would make a great honeymoon spot. Maybe that’s why he’d thought about it now, when a romantic getaway had come in handy.
He had to admit that he’d been waiting for days—hell, maybe even years—to whisk Nicole away from her parents and to have her to himself in a tropical paradise, to see if their chemistry was still as hot as it once was.
And he had every reason to believe that they would set the nights on fire. After all, he’d be in his element at Suenos del Sol. And he wasn’t just talking about knowing his way around the beachfront setting.
He’d wined and dined his share of women before, so he knew all the right words to say, all the right moves to make. But Nicole was more than just one of his past conquests, and he’d never been so determined to win a woman’s heart....
No, not her heart.
Yet as he stole a glance her way, watched her settle into her seat and buckle up for takeoff, he wondered just what it was that he was feeling for her.
And why it seemed so important to plan a romantic trip with her, complete with all the props.
Somewhere in the back of the plane, two crystal flutes, a bottle of champagne on ice and long-stemmed, chocolate-covered strawberries they would enjoy during the flight had been packed and prepared.
Another surprise Miguel had wanted to spring.
As he adjusted his own seat belt, he thought about what he’d lined up for the next week and smiled, pleased with himself.
When he’d first brought up the idea of a romantic getaway, Nicole had been clearly taken aback. You’re planning a honeymoon?
Yes, ma’am. The best one ever.
He’d explained that they shouldn’t give her parents any reason to suspect that she’d countered their legal maneuvering with one of her own. He’d also told her that he intended their marriage, as short as it might be, to be real in every sense of the word.
And how much more real could it get than a week spent on a secluded stretch of tropical beach—swimsuits optional?
It’s not right, his brother Marcos had said when Miguel admitted what he and Nicole had planned to do.
Miguel had shared his rationale for doing so with his brother, which he considered sound. Yet now, for the first time since agreeing to marry Nicole, Miguel began to question his motives.
Not just for agreeing to be a husband for hire, which had made sense for practical reasons, but his determination to sweep her off her feet while they were at Suenos del Sol, to remind her of what they’d once had—and how good it had been.
Sure, there were definitely sex-based reasons for pulling out all the romantic stops. He was only human—and so was she.
But was there more to his efforts than just wanting to make love? More than a natural desire to satisfy the raging physical needs?
Did he, at least on some level, hope to stir up those old feelings she’d once had for him?
It was possible, he supposed. And if that was indeed a subconscious part of his plan, his brother’s words came back to haunt him.
It’s not right, man.
And Miguel had to admit that it wasn’t. Why should he try to stir up Nicole’s emotions and memories when he was hell-bent not to let that happen to him?
When he finally walked away from her with a divorce in hand and the money she’d promised him invested in his nightclub, the last thing he wanted to take with him was regret or even the whisper of a broken heart.
So why work so hard at sweeping her off her feet and set her up for that same risk? Did he want her to experience some of the pain he’d felt when they’d broken up all those years ago?
No, it wasn’t that.
At least, not completely.
But could it be a small part?
As the plane sped down the runway and began to lift off, Miguel glanced out the window, watching the Texas countryside fade into the distance.
So what was he really trying to do?
Relive a sweet memory?
Or extract a bit of revenge?
As much as he hated to admit it, maybe a little bit of both. And if that was the case, what kind of man did that make him?
Chapter Nine
Nearly four hours later, after Miguel and Nicole shared champagne and strawberries on their flight over the Gulf of Mexico, the plane touched down at Santa Inez, an international airport located about five miles from the Suenos del Sol Resort on the Yucatan Peninsula.
The terminal, if you could call it that, was a single, three-sided building that opened in back for easy boarding of passengers and luggage. Unless things had changed since the last time Miguel had been to visit Tio Pepe, there were only two international flights that flew in and out each day, both of which came from the United States.
“I’ll be back to get you next week,” Laurel said, as they stepped away from the plane. “If for some reason your schedule changes, you have my cell number, as well as Tanner’s.”
“By the way,” Miguel told the pilot, “I know you have to wait for the plane to be refueled, so you might want to check out the taco stand on the front side of the building. I know some people are leery about eating anything from an outdoor vendor, but I’d highly recommend that you try one of Beto’s. They’re probably the best you’ll ever eat.”
Laurel smiled. “I’ve done a lot of traveling while in the Air Force, so I’m pretty adventurous when it comes to the food I eat. Thanks for the tip.”
After they told Laurel goodbye and wished her a nice flight back to Red Rock, Miguel and Nicole walked inside toward the two Mexican customs officers who made a quick scan of their bags.
Once they were free to go and outside the building, Miguel asked, “How adventurous are you when it comes to trying food?”
She laughed. “I’m afraid that I filled up on champagne and those awesome chocolate-covered strawberries. So I’d better pass on the tacos.”
“Suit yourself.” He nodded toward the vehicle his uncle routinely sent to pick up the hotel guests who’d flown in to stay at Suenos del Sol. “Come on, there’s our ride.”
They headed toward the old turquoise woodie wagon that sat idling on the side of the road, a flamingo-pink surfboard attached to the roof, the tailgate lifted.
Ramon Torres, the heavyset, middle-aged driver, stood beside the open passenger door, wearing a pair of huaraches, khaki slacks and a blue-and-yellow Hawaiian shirt.
“We’re going to ride in that old woodie?” she asked. “How cool is that?”
He laughed. “I’d love to buy that one from my uncle and take it back to Red Rock.”
“You have to be kidding. What would you do with it?”
“A 1949 Ford woodie wagon? I’d refurbish it.”
“And then sell it? I’ll bet some wealthy surfer in Southern California would love to have one.”
“Maybe so, but I’d probably keep it for myself.”
Ramon, who’d worked for Tio Pepe for nearly thirty years, grinned broadly as they reached the car.
“Miguel!” His brown eyes lit up, and his mustachioed smile broadened. “It’s good to finally see you again. This must be your beautiful bride.”
She was beautiful all right, even though she’d left the wedding dress back at Molly’s Pride and donned a pair of white jeans and a turquoise-colored blouse for the flight to Mexico.
Miguel, who’d shed his Armani suit in favor of shorts and a Tommy Bahama shirt, greeted Ramon with a robust hug. Then he introduced his wife, adding, “She is lovely, isn’t she? I’m one lucky guy, Ramon. I just had to bring her down here and show her off.”
“Mucho gusto,” Ramon said. Then he took their luggage from them and placed both bags in back.
After lowering the tailgate, Ramon waited outside the vehicle until Miguel and Nicole slid into the backseat.
Moments later, they were off, the old woodie chugging and bumping and swerving along the dusty, potholed road that led to the resort.
Normally on the ride to Suenos del Sol, Miguel looked forward to the wide turn in the road and passing the lookout point the locals called Punta Vista.
He would usually crane his neck, trying to catch his first glimpse of the aquamarine water and the white sandy stretch of beach.
But today he was more interested in watching Nicole and waiting for her reaction at seeing the amazing view for the very first time.
She, like him, hadn’t talked much on the flight from Red Rock, so he wasn’t sure what she was thinking, what she was feeling. Was her father the only one who regretted their marriage?
* * *
As the woodie bumped along a dusty dirt road, Nicole glanced out the open window at the Mexican countryside. The flight to the Yucatán Peninsula had been as smooth as Laurel had told them they could expect.
It had also been quiet, mostly because Miguel had been so silent and preoccupied after takeoff.
During the first hour or so, Nicole had been lost in her thoughts, too. She’d been wondering what Miguel had planned for their honeymoon, intrigued by the possibilities, yet uneasy by them, as well. She especially struggled with the sleeping arrangement, since she doubted he’d reserved a two-bedroom suite.
But after the flight was well under way, Miguel had remained pensive. She’d first thought he might be thinking about how much he missed his favorite vacation spot or about the uncle he hadn’t seen in a while. But when the silence continued, she’d begun to worry that something more serious might be weighing on his mind.
About the time they were halfway through the flight, Laurel had reminded him he had champagne chilling in the back of the plane. And at that point, he’d seemed to perk up and shake off his thoughtful mood.
Yet now that they were in the woodie and headed for the resort, he seemed to have slipped back into that tall, dark and brooding mode again.
“How much farther is the hotel?” she asked.
“We’re getting pretty close now.” He pointed up ahead, where a group of palm trees grew. “In fact, you’ll be able to see the ocean soon, as well as the palapa-style roofs of the hotel once we make the next turn.”
As the woodie swung around the curve in the road, revealing Nicole’s first glimpse of the turquoise waters of the Caribbean, she couldn’t help but comment about the beauty. “Would you look at the color of the ocean?”
“There’s nothing like the view—or the location,” Miguel said. “But like I told you before, the resort itself isn’t quite what you’re used to in terms of accommodations, but it’s clean and comfortable.”
She reached across the seat and placed her hand on his arm. “I’m not as stuck-up as you think. I’m sure it’ll be just fine.”
The intensity in his gaze locked on hers and darn near squeezed the breath right out of her. And for one soul-stirring moment, she wondered if his earlier silence had something to do with old feelings c
oming back to haunt him and the realization that they’d be spending a week together in a tropical, beachfront paradise.
The possibility sent her senses reeling and her heart racing. Rather than deal with the possibility that she might be right, she turned away, breaking the connection, and again studied the amazing view.
Yet it was the man who sat beside her she found more intriguing than her surroundings. Because if truth be told, she wasn’t sure those old feelings hadn’t come back to haunt her, as well.
“Here we are,” Ramon, the driver, announced, as he pulled to a stop in front of an open-air lobby which boasted a tropical decor that reminded her a bit of Old Hawaii.
Miguel climbed from the car, then waited for Nicole to exit. Once she did, she scanned the hotel grounds, noting a setting sun, palm trees swaying in the breeze, lush hanging plants and vines. The newly mown lawn stretched all the way to the white sand beach.
Miguel had been right, the hotel itself wasn’t fancy. But the setting was amazing.
Once they entered the lobby, a tall, silver-haired man in shorts and a Hawaiian-style shirt greeted Miguel with a hug.
“Nicole,” Miguel said, “this is Tio Pepe, my uncle.”
The older man turned to her with a smile. “I’m so happy to welcome you—not only to Suenos del Sol, but to the Mendoza family.”
“After I check in,” Miguel began, “I’ll...”
“It’s all taken care of.” Pepe nodded to a young man who was clearly a bellman. “Take them to Bungalow Twelve in the honeymoon wing.”
The bellman nodded, then reached for their bags and put them on the wheeled cart.
“Thank you,” Miguel told his uncle. “As soon as we’re settled, we’ll be down. I’d like to buy you a drink.”
“I’d like that,” Pepe said. “It will give me an opportunity to chat with your new wife, to get to know her.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Nicole said. “Miguel has spoken so highly of you that I’m glad we finally have a chance to meet in person.”
Pepe offered her the warmest of smiles. “And I’ve heard a lot about you, too.” Then he turned to the bellman. “Take them to their room and make sure they have everything they need.”
