The Paternity Proposition(29)

"Oh, my." That sounded so romantic. "I, um, wanted to visit because of a family member. My great-aunt was born here. She always talked about the island and how she hated to leave. She passed away a few months ago." Some of Phoebe's happiness bled away as a pang of loneliness shot through her. "She wanted me to see the world, but it was her request that I begin here, where she was born."

"You and your great-aunt were close?"

Phoebe leaned against the jewelry case. From the corner of her eye she saw two store clerks talking frantically in the corner. They gestured wildly, but didn't approach either her or the stranger.

"She raised me," she said, returning her attention to the kind man in front of her. "I never knew my father, and my mother died when I was eight. Great-Aunt Ayanna took me in." She smiled at the memory. "I'd been raised in Colorado, so moving to Florida was pretty exciting. Ayanna said it was the closest place to Lucia-Serrat she could find. I think she missed the island very much."

"So you honor her memory by visiting the island."

Phoebe hadn't thought of it that way. She smiled. "That's exactly right. I want to visit the places she liked to go. She even gave me a list."

The tall stranger held out his hand. Obviously he wanted to read the list. Phoebe reached into the outside pocket of her purse and handed it to him.

He unfolded the single sheet of paper and read silently. She took the opportunity to study his thick hair and the length of his lashes, the powerful build of his body. They weren't standing very close at all, yet she would swear she felt the heat of his body. A crazy thing to be thinking, she told herself. But true. A warmth seeped through her as she watched him.

As he returned the list to her, he said, "All excel-lent choices. Are you familiar with the legend of Lucia's Point?"

Phoebe had long since memorized Ayanna's list. Lucia's Point was second from the bottom. "Not at all."

"They say that only lovers may visit. If they make love in the shade of the waterfall, they will be blessed all the days of their lives. So have you brought your lover with you?"

Phoebe suspected he was teasing her, but she couldn't stop herself from blushing. A lover? Couldn't the man tell from looking at her that she'd never even had a boyfriend, let alone a lover?

Before she could think of something to say-preferably something witty and charming and sophisticated-a uniformed man appeared at her side.

"Ms. Phoebe Carson? I am here to take you to your hotel." He bowed slightly and took her luggage. "At your convenience," he said, and backed out of the store.

Phoebe glanced out the window and saw a green van sitting at the curb. Gold lettering spelled out Parrot Bay Inn, where she would be staying for the next month.

"My ride is here," she told the stranger who had lingered to chat with her.

"I can see. I hope you will enjoy your time in Lucia-Serrat."

His dark eyes seemed to see inside her. Could he read her mind? She hoped not-if he could, he would figure out that she was an inexperienced fool who was completely out of her element with him.

"You've been very kind," she murmured when nothing more charming occurred to her.

"My pleasure."

Before she could turn away, he reached out and took her hand in his, then raised it to chest level. He bent his head and lightly kissed her fingers. The old-world gesture took her breath away, as did the tingling that instantly shot up her arm.

"Perhaps we will be lucky enough to run into each other again," he said.

Phoebe was incapable of speech. Fortunately he left before she did something really embarrassing like stutter or babble. After a couple of seconds she was able to draw in a breath. Then she forced herself to start walking. She left the store and stepped out into the warm afternoon. It was only when she was settled in the hotel van that she thought to look for the man she'd met in the store. She didn't even know his name.                       
       
           



       

But look as she might, she couldn't spot him. The driver climbed in and started the engine. Five minutes later they had left the airport behind them and were on a two-lane road that hugged a cliff above the sea.

The ocean stretched out to the horizon on her right, while on her left, lush foliage crept down to the side of the road. Flashes of color fluttered from branch to branch, proof of the wild parrots that made their home on the tropical island. Phoebe could smell that salty air and the rich, dark earth dampened by a recent shower. Excitement coursed through her-she was really here, she thought as the van arrived at the hotel.

The Parrot Bay Inn had been built nearly two hundred years before. The white building soared up several stories, with red and pink bougainvilleas covering the bottom two floors. The foyer was an open atrium, the reception desk hand carved with an elegance from an older time. Phoebe registered and was shown to her room.

Ayanna had made her niece promise to visit the island of Lucia-Serrat for a month, and to stay only at the Parrot Bay Inn. Phoebe refused to consider the expense as she was shown to a lovely corner mini-suite complete with a view of the ocean and a balcony worthy of Romeo and Juliet. She felt as if she were floating as she stepped out to watch the sun sink toward the west.

A reddish-orange bath colored the sky. The water turned from blue to dark green. She breathed in the scents of the island as she leaned against her balcony railing and savored the moment.

When it was dark, she moved back into her room to unpack and settle in for her stay. The four-poster bed looked comfortable and the bathroom, while old-fashioned, was large and contained every amenity. If the silence made her a little sad, she refused to dwell on her loneliness. She was used to making her own way. Here, on the island of her great-aunt's birth, she would connect with all that Ayanna had spoken of. She would feel her aunt's presence. She would begin to live her life.

Just before she went down to dinner there was a knock on her door. When she opened it, a bellman carried in a large spray of tropical flowers, touched his cap and left before Phoebe could tell him there must be some mistake. No one would be sending her flowers.

Even though she knew it was foolish, she couldn't help imagining the handsome stranger she'd met at the duty-free shop at the airport. No. Not him. He had to be at least thirty-three or thirty-four. He would think of her as a child, nothing more. Yet her fingers trembled as she opened the white envelope tucked among the blossoms.

"May your stay on the island be delightful."

No signature. Which meant that while they weren't from the man at the store, she could pretend they were. She could imagine that instead of awkward, she'd been funny and charming. Instead of dressed in something old and out of style, she'd been elegant and sophisticated and that he couldn't stop thinking about her. Much as she couldn't stop thinking about him.





The next morning Phoebe took the stairs instead of the elevator. She wore loose cotton trousers and sandals, a tank top covered by a matching short-sleeved shirt. While Lucia-Serrat was more forward thinking than many Arab countries, she didn't want to cause offense by dressing too immodestly. In her oversize straw bag she'd packed sunscreen, a few pieces of fruit from the bowl in her room, a bottle of water and a map. Today she would begin to tackle Ayanna's list, beginning with what was closest to the hotel. When she grew more familiar with her way, she would rent a car and explore the outlying areas. As for visiting Lucia's Point, well, she would deal with that problem when she had to.

Phoebe skipped down the last two steps and stepped into the foyer of the hotel.

"Good morning. I trust you slept well?"

She skittered to a stop, unable to believe what she was seeing. It was him-the man from the store the previous day. Oh, the suit was gone, replaced by casual trousers and a crisp white shirt. But she recognized his handsome features and the odd fluttering in her stomach. His teeth flashed white as he smiled at her.

"I see by your expression of surprise that you remember me. I hope the memory is pleasant."

She thought of how she'd gone to sleep remembering his light kiss on her fingers, and her dreams of a dark-haired stranger promising to show her the delights of Lucia's Point. A blush crawled up her face.

"Good morning," she whispered, thinking that response was a whole lot safer than discussing her memories of him.

"So you begin your tour of my island today. I remember-your aunt's list. What did you wish to explore first?"

Phoebe didn't know what to say. "I thought I would start with the Parrot Cove beach," she said hesitantly, not sure what brought him to the hotel, or why he bothered to speak with her. While thoughts of him had kept her occupied for hours last night, she couldn't have been a very interesting encounter for him.

"Not the beach," he said with a flick of his wrist. "While we have the most beautiful beaches in the world on the island, there is nothing extraordinary about sand. I have decided we will start with the banyan tree."

Phoebe resisted the urge to stick her finger in her ear to see if something was stuck there. She couldn't possibly have heard the man correctly. "I, um  … " She took a deep breath. "I don't understand."