by Nancy Loyan
“I fear Victoria has a problem with trust,” Bessye added.
Trust! How dare Mother mention trust!
“Excuse us,” Daemon said to Bessye. He took Victoria’s arm and led her from the porch, out into the front yard.
“We need to talk privately,” he added, releasing his grip.
Victoria met his unwavering gaze. Her heart was thumping and her mind reeling.
“I trusted you, Victoria. Apparently, your own mother feels that you are incapable of doing the same.”
Tears she couldn’t control started down her cheeks.
“Daemon Wells, you deserve more than I can give. Love isn’t enough. I can’t explain everything. You have to understand.”
“Understand that you want to run away from our relationship?” He placed his hands on her shoulders.
She trembled at his touch, at the conflicting feelings of wanting him to be a part of his life and yet having to let go because of Justin and her past.
“Daemon, this has to be goodbye.”
“Can you really live your life without me? Without this?” He drew her tightly against him and kissed her with rough passion, branding her lips with the possibility of what might have been.
Victoria closed her eyes, relishing every moment in his intimate embrace and the kiss that seared her lips. She wanted him, yet had to muster all of her will power for Justin’s sake.
“Please. Go,” she whispered.
Daemon shrugged her off, turning on his heel. Without looking back, he stormed to his car and entered his Jag, slamming the door loudly. The car sped off in a cloud of dust.
Chapter 15
Daemon sat in an Adirondack-style chair on the top deck of his La Digue home, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the ocean met the sky. The two almost blended, one not discernible from the other, reminding him of Victoria and him. He raised the crystal glass to his lips, nursing a scotch and soda and a bruised heart.
After the confrontation with Victoria, he raced to Paradise Helicopters. Parking, he headed to the heli-pad. Without a word to his employees who were working nearby, he hopped in the Jet Ranger and powered it up. Lifting off, he hovered for a moment before heading over the steep mountain ranges of Trois Freres and soon over the open waters of the Indian Ocean heading toward La Digue. There was a peaceful serenity here he never felt on land. There was something about the wide expanse of sky that made problems small and insignificant in the world as a whole. As he observed God’s universe, it set his mind at ease and soothed his heart and soul. Other people sought out psychologists and psychiatrists. Daemon just needed time alone in the sky. By the time he landed on his estate on La Digue, he was calmer than when he left Mah’e.
Sensing that something was wrong, Raj had prepared a scotch and soda and handed it to Daemon as he always had when his employer came home unexpectedly. Daemon smiled upon accepting the cool drink and proceeded up to his bedroom deck alone to watch the sun set on the day and on his relationship with Victoria.
The sky went from blue to indigo to crimson as the sun set over the horizon. With it, the incoming tide began to splash ashore against the rocks and beach far below. Soon, the sky would turn black with a scattering of stars and constellations glittering like diamonds against black velvet. He loved observing the daily cycle of nature and enjoyed even more sharing it with others. If only he could have been in a thatched cottage on a secluded beach on Fregate island with Victoria. She would be snuggled in his arms, her head resting against his chest, the softness of her hand in his. He swallowed hard. If everything had gone as planned, they would be sipping Dom Perignon and watching the sunset. And afterward …
He reached into his pants’ pocket and withdrew a velvet box. Popping open the spring-lid, he stared at the sparkling marquis solitaire diamond he had ordered recently from his favorite diamond merchant in South Africa. With a sigh, he snapped it closed thinking how he had planned on presenting it to her this very evening, dropping it into her flute of champagne … a very expensive rock of ice. He slipped the box back in his pocket.
What had he been thinking? For the first time in his life he had been prepared, eager even, to propose marriage. There had been no doubt that he wanted to spend every day and night for the rest of his life with Victoria Montcherry. She had stirred his heart, his soul, his mind, his body. In her eyes he had seen his future. He thought she had seen the same things. Wanted the same things. Wanted him.
Now he wasn’t so sure, of her or of himself.
He had always been a dreamer with lofty goals. Seeing the best in the world and in others, though he had experienced the worst. Ever since his brush with death in Afghanistan he had been living life on fast-forward. Living as if every moment could be his last, he worked harder, longer and achieved more, since that incident than he had ever done in his life. Maybe he was rushing things with Victoria. Perhaps he had imagined her to be in love with him when all she wanted was an island fling.
The curt message she had left on his answering machine seemed so out of character for her that he had to confront her. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. Her lack of trust. She didn’t trust him enough to tell him things. She didn’t trust him enough to mention her relationship with his father. What other secrets was she hiding and why?
People in love didn’t keep secrets. To have a lasting relationship, there had to be unconditional trust.
Trust!
He polished off his drink and contemplated having another. Deciding against it, he knew that alcohol wouldn’t dull the ache inside. What was supposed to be the first day of the rest of his life had become the loneliest. And he had experienced many lonely nights. He rose from his seat and stretched. Tonight he would be sleeping alone.
Justin handled the throttle on the Jet Ranger with the confidence of a professional. He controlled the helicopter like a seasoned pilot and made Daemon proud. The boy was incredibly intelligent, mature for his age, and a fast learner. Though he couldn’t yet legally drive, he could handle a sophisticated helicopter. The craft hovered then landed in the center of the heli-pad like a dart in the bulls-eye.
“Yes!” Justin pumped a fist in the air.
“Perfect landing,” Daemon replied with pride in his voice, flipping through paper charts. “Let’s see, you passed the written exams and the final step is flying solo. You have to wait on that, though.”
“Being too young is such a bummer.”
“Don’t be so eager to grow up.” Daemon pulled off his headset and snapped off his shoulder harness.
Justin did the same, turning off the rotors on the craft. They slowly spun down.
“Mr. Wells, can I ask you a question?” The boy looked at him with a frown.
“You know you can ask me anything.”
“I was just wondering. So many girls in school, some much older than me, keep flirting with me.” He fidgeted in his seat. “Some are so, like, forward they’ve asked me to make out with them.”
Daemon met the boys’ concerned gaze. “They have?”
A blush erupted on Justin’s smooth face. “I like girls and all and I get some funny feelings, you know what I mean? But I’m not ready for any of that stuff. Is something wrong with me?”
Daemon wanted to chuckle but held on to his serious demeanor. “Nothing’s really wrong. Each person matures at a different level and girls mature faster than boys. Also, the body tends to mature faster than the brain, unfortunately. I’d say you’re a very responsible and level-headed young man.”
Justin shrugged.
“Making out isn’t something to be taken lightly but is a very serious endeavor that can lead to very serious circumstances. Don’t let anyone pressure you into doing anything you’re not ready or prepared for,” Daemon explained, grateful that he told the boy about the “birds and the bees” years earlier. A little reinforcement now and then couldn’t hurt. He also was flattered that Justin trusted him enough to confide in him.
Daemon continued, “You know, too many young men
on the Islands pursue sex like a sport and too many young women are mothers before they’re ready.”
Justin nodded.
“You have a bright future ahead of you. Sex and early fatherhood would only ruin it.” Daemon counseled and protected the boy as if he were the son he never had, knowing how it felt not to have a father around.
“Umm … “ Justin began, a sheepish grin creasing his face. "Mr. Wells, is Miss Montcherry your girlfriend?”
Daemon’s eyes darted open as he was caught off guard. “Was my girlfriend. I’m not really sure where we stand right now.”
“You know, she’s a new friend of ma mere? They met at my home. My siblings were wondering if she was looking to adopt someone.”
“Why?” Daemon thought something was a bit unusual about the scenario.
“She came by to visit the other day when I wasn’t home and had a long chat with ma mere. My siblings didn’t hear the conversation but said that Miss Montcherry raced out of the house crying and ma mere had to run outside to comfort her.”
“Really?” Daemon’s radar went up. “That’s strange.”
Justin shrugged. “I don’t know any more than that. Only, she later turned up at our football tournament.”
Daemon sat back against his seat, puzzled. Victoria had seemed uncomfortable, revealing unexpected emotions for a woman attending a mere sporting event.
“I guess she was happy to see you,” Justin said with a blush on his face.
Daemon remembered the rather intimate and possessive kiss he had planted on Victoria’s lips in front of everyone. She had appeared more shocked than happy.
These revelations just added more mystery to Victoria and more questions. What was she holding back from him? What other secrets did she have?
Did it really matter?
Chapter 16
Everything was going wrong! Victoria was beginning to think that someone had cursed her with grigri, island voodoo. After five weeks of sitting on her proposal, the authorities had yet to approve construction of her home. She had anxiously awaited her mail from the States only to see that her dividend checks were less than she had anticipated. Everywhere she turned she seemed to see an advertisement for an Eden resort and the yellow helicopters of Paradise Air seemed to fly overhead with more frequency than she had remembered. The daily newspaper, The Seychelles Nation, featured a photograph of Justin holding a trophy and being lauded for his soccer expertise. The article below stated that the boy had won a ten-day trip to a soccer academy in Great Britain. Though proud of Justin, his smiling face just reminded her of all she had missed and all she wasn’t a part of. To make things worse, a katiti, a Seychelles kestrel roosted on the roof, a sure sign of bad luck.
To escape the house and her mother’s constant ranting and advising, Victoria decided to accept an old friend’s invitation to join her for lunch. As a treat, she packed a picnic basket and drove down the Sans Souci up to the tea plantation where her friend worked in packaging.
Lush tea bushes lined the gently rolling mountain slopes, a sea of fresh green. Men hunched over picking tender young sprouts off the bushes. At the nearby processing plant, the leaves would be put out to dry, shredded, forced through a sieve and processed into tea bags. Victoria knew the process well. As a teen she had spent a few months hand-packing tea leaves in the factory, a job her friend, Doris, still held.
Entering the sweet-smelling factory building, she saw Doris seated on the floor, dipping her fingers in glue and pasting labels on glass coffee jars. Coffee was imported from Sri Lanka but packaged at the plant for Seychellois use. Doris looked up with an ivory smile on a charcoal face. Victoria smiled back.
“Bonzour. Konman sava?” Doris greeted.
“Byen mersi,” Victoria replied.
Doris rose, smoothed her faded cotton dress. After whispering to a co-worker who stood nearby shrink-wrapping cellophane on boxes, she ambled over to Victoria.
“I can take a half-hour break,” Doris said.
“I brought a surprise.” Victoria lifted the wicker picnic basket.
Doris giggled.
They walked to a picnic table set outside the tea tavern. Victoria set the basket on top and opened the lid. She withdrew foil wrapped fried chicken, fried breadfruit, and a fruit salad with papaya, mango and pineapple. Handing a plastic plate and plastic utensils to Doris, she sat across from her.
“Doris, I thought you deserved a treat,” Victoria said.
“A treat indeed. Is that Bessye’s famous chicken recipe?” Doris reached for a piece and placed it on her plate.
“Yes, but I made it myself.”
“You can cook?” Doris’ thick brows shot up.
“Of course. I’ve lived on my own long enough that it was either learn to cook or starve.” Victoria filled her own plate.
“I thought Americans and Europeans ate at restaurants.”Victoria chuckled. “Only once in a while, silly.”
A couple strolled hand-in-hand out of the tea tavern and into the sunlight. Victoria wouldn’t have noticed them except for the man’s height and his distinctive yellow polo shirt. She almost choked on her food. The man seemed in deep conversation with the woman, oblivious to his surroundings as he led her down the path toward the road.
What the hell is Daemon Wells doing at the tea plantation, and who is that woman? She squinted to get a clearer view of the woman. She was shorter than Daemon and much younger. An exotic floral print dress wrapped around her willowy frame and accented her mahogany skin. Her black hair flowed in waves down to her narrow shoulders. Her silhouette revealed classical Indian features. When Daemon’s hand moved to encircle the woman’s waist and grasp her in an embrace, Victoria almost screamed.
“What’s the matter, Victoria? You look as if you’ve seen a nam,” Doris asked.
Victoria removed her hands from her face once the couple walked out of sight. Yes, it was almost like seeing a ghost.
“Do you know them?” Doris asked.
“I know him.” She choked out the words.
“And not over him?”
Victoria met Doris’ warm gaze. “I have to be over him. Sometimes people are so much alike and have so much in common they are wrong for each other.”
“Or so right they do not see it?” Doris smiled.
Chapter 17
Marcella Gurun was the most capable woman Daemon had ever met and the best general manager of the Shangri La. Not only did she run an efficient and spotless resort, she had been an inspiration to the staff. She had begun her career with Eden Resorts as a chambermaid and through hard labor and the ability to learn quickly, rose through the ranks. Unlike many who had been promoted, she never forgot her humble roots and was respected for it. Her two-year stint as manager of the Shangri La was up and Daemon’s father had rewarded her with the promotion of a lifetime, based on Daemon’s recommendation. Though affiliated with Eden Resorts through his genes, Daemon did keep close watch on Eden’s Seychelles operations in his father’s absence. Once in a while, his father acted on his advice.
Daemon had wanted to talk to Marcella away from the resort where everyone knew her and where the walls had ears. He chose a quiet visit to the tea plantation as a pleasant place to be surprised. Over a cup of vanilla infused tea, he offered her the position of Chief Operations Officer for Eden Resorts, Seychelles, Ltd.
Marcella beamed with excitement when he offered her the position.
“Mr. Wells, I don’t know what to say. I’m flattered and honored.” She leaned back in her seat and laughed. “And I thought you asked me here for personal reasons.”
He surveyed her flawless face and effervescent smile and wondered why he viewed her merely as an employee when most other men would have viewed her otherwise. Many an employee at Eden Resorts had a crush on her. She was young, beautiful, intelligent and vivacious, highly respected and trustworthy. She could offer everything a man needed. She reminded Daemon of Victoria. He swallowed hard.
Marcella had the ability to keep th
ings professional on the job, one of the reasons he knew she could handle the responsibility of managing three resorts and deserved the promotion.
“Since my two-year contract was up, I thought I would be transferred,” she purred.
“One contract is ending but a more long-term arrangement is in order.”
“You’ve made my dream come true. I’ve really grown to love the Seychelles and hated to think of having to leave them. Now, I can stay. Not only that, I get to do the job I love with the people I love.” Her brown eyes sparkled with joy as they sought his.
Daemon swallowed hard, meeting her gaze. Marcella was a beautiful person and a capable employee, nothing more.
“Mr. Wells, thank you and, please, do thank your father for me. I can now send for my son knowing that my stay is more permanent here. Though he’ll miss his grandmother, I think he’ll adapt,” she said.
“Fifteen year olds are pretty adaptable,” he said. “I’ll have to introduce your son to Justin.”
“I’m sure he’d love to meet the Island’s football star,” she said. “You’ve spoken of Justin so often, I’d love to see him play.”
“I’m afraid he’ll be off to the football academy in Great Britain soon.”
“Lucky boy. He’s also lucky to have you as a role model.”
Daemon smiled. He pulled out the chair for her and she rose, smoothing her dress. He put out his hand and she took it.
They chatted about the resorts as they left the teahouse and walked down the path toward their parked cars.
“Thank you, Mr. Wells. I will not disappoint you, your father, or Eden Resorts,” she said.
They embraced in parting, Marcella molding herself against the length of his body.
Daemon smiled as he saw her off. He wondered what was wrong with him when a beautiful and intelligent woman like Marcella held so little appeal.
Chapter 18
