She’d grown up listening to her parents’ stories romanticizing Bora Bora. Tom loved it so much that he surprised her mother with a small private motu, complete with a gorgeous bungalow and two boats.
She tried to call her mom and Tom when the plane landed, but they didn’t answer so she left a message. In this island paradise, you couldn’t merely take a taxi or a shuttle, you had to take a boat transfer to your resort.
Walking briskly down the dock to find a boat ride, honeymooners and lovers of every age surrounded her. She couldn’t help but notice the intimate behavior, private messages sent with a stroke of the hand or a small sensual glance of lovers knowing what the night would entail.
Lustful thoughts of the man she loved sent pings of desire to her tummy. All she could think about was Reed, wishing he stood by her side. Digging through her purse, she pulled out her phone to call him. Her toe caught on a plank of wood, sending her stumbling down the dock and her phone sailing into the gorgeous blue lagoon.
“Oh shit!” she shrieked, clambering to edge of the pier, watching her phone sink to the sandy bottom. Jumping to her feet, JC kicked off her shoes and threw her purse to the dock preparing to jump in when a dark-skinned man dove in from a boat tied up at the dock.
She dragged her hands through her hair, swearing under her breath while pacing frantically on the dock. Fuck! Hysteria mounted. JC didn’t memorize Reed’s phone number. The only connection to the man she loved just sank to the bottom of the lagoon.
The Tahitian man swam to the back of his boat and toweled off, meeting JC on the dock.
“Maruruu.” Unable to hide sheer disappointment as she reached to shake his hand, she took back the worthless piece of technology.
“Maeva, welcome. You speak Tahitain.” His dazzling white smile matched his gracious personality.
“Only a few words. Thanks for trying to save it, but I’m pretty sure it’s a lost cause.” Her anxiety kicked in. “Is this your boat? I’m in desperate need of a ride.”
“Oh, yes, yes of course. Where are you staying?” Stretching his arm outward, he escorted her to his boat.
“I’m staying with Tom and Tess Clemmins.”
All the charm and pleasantness dropped straight to the bottom of the lagoon with her phone. “You’ll have to find another boat.” He marched her past his boat, sending her on her way.
“But I need a ride.” She scowled and her hands flew to her hips.
He folded his brawny arms across his bare chest. “I’m sure if you are staying with the Clemmins they have arranged a boat transfer with their private captain.”
JC snapped her fingers in recollection. “That’s right! Where is Mr. Rene? Which boat is his?”
He stared at her skeptically, shooing her toward the end of the dock.
Approaching the boat, she realized her mom and Tom never had visitors. Most likely he assumed she was nosy media or a crazed star-struck fan.
Neither JC nor John, Shayla or Tracy were allowed to visit. The family was more than welcome to stay at any of Tom and Tess’s houses except The Bungalow. It was their private romantic getaway and off limits to family and friends.
Mr. Rene was their private captain, landscaper, chef, assistant, etc. Whatever Tom and Tess needed Mr. Rene or a member of his family took care of it. His wife stocked the fridge prior to their arrival and invited them to every family celebration.
A smile broadened across her face. JC felt as if she were about to meet a long lost uncle. “Mr. Rene?” Her long caramel hair fell to the side as she bent slightly.
“Yes. Yes!” he greeted joyfully. His dark russet skin covered with intricate tribal tattoos. “Ia Orana. It is a beautiful day.”
She extended her hand. “My name is JC. JC Mathews. You know my—”
“Yes!” He took both her hands, clasping them in his own. “Of course! I recognize you from pictures. Hello my dear! Where is Mrs. Blue Eyes?”
JC beamed at hearing the nickname he’d given her mother. “I need a ride to their island. They’re not expecting me.”
He frowned. “Is there a problem?”
“There is no problem.” Obviously, Mr. Rene was aware of their house rules. “I need to see them. I tried to call, but—”
“They should be home. I will take you.”
The twenty-five minute boat ride felt more like three hours. JC was incapable of enjoying the picturesque scenery, because she was too busy spilling her guts to Mr. Rene, blurting out her entire story. As they approached a small unspoiled island, two boats tied to the dock were the only signs of life. He assisted her off the boat and pointed to a manicured path hidden between lush foliage of colorful hibiscus, offering to show her the way. JC declined, placing a grateful kiss to both his cheeks, thanking him for the ride.