Island for Two: Hawaii MagicFiji Fantasy Page 15

  He stared down at the carpet. “I guess you’re right. He’s probably more nervous than me that his life’s work is going to go up in flames—sacrificed on the altar of paternal love.”

  She laughed. “Ready to go to bed?”

  The flame of passion lit instantly. He turned his head and his eyes ran over her from top to bottom even as she stood and brought him to his feet with her. They stood, bodies pressed together and just held each other.

  Contessa cupped his face in her hands. “You’ll do fine.”

  “And of course, I’ll be the boss. So, anyone who dares to point out my flaws will find themselves reassigned to parts unknown.”

  She placed a quick kiss on his lips. “See, you’re already learning.” She turned and still holding on to his hand, guided him to the bedroom.

  Michael watched the sway of her hips as she walked away from him. He was considering changing his flight plans, so they would return together. After all, he wasn’t expected back at any specific time. He found he did not want to be away from her for any length of time if possible.

  As she approached the bed, he suddenly scooped her up in his arms and tossed her across the comforter. Her startled laughter did wonders for his disposition as he came down on top of her. He placed kisses in rapid succession across her face, her throat. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to go without this for…how long?”

  Her eyes suddenly clouded over and her smile fell away, but she quickly schooled her expression into a blank mask and Michael was left wondering what the hell had just happened. He rolled off her and propped himself up on his elbow. “Contessa? We were going to keep seeing each other, right? I mean, I thought this was more than an island fling? Is it?”

  She reached up and touched his face. “Yes, most definitely yes. It’s just things are not the same back home as they are here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Here it’s only us with no intrusions. Back home, I’ll have my family, you’ll have your new responsibilities. I can’t see how we can maintain what we have here.”

  His eyes narrowed on her face. “Are you married?”

  She frowned. “What?”

  He sat straight up. “You heard me—are you married?”

  She sat up, as well. “No, of course not. Do you think I could be here with you doing this if I were?”

  He was still frowning, but the tension in his body had relaxed some. “Some women could. I didn’t think you were one of them, but you never know. Is there someone else in your life?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m not in any relationship or anything resembling a relationship. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

  “Then, what’s the problem? We both have feelings for the other, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Then, what’s the hang-up?”

  She shook her head. “I guess there aren’t any.”

  His face lit in a bright smile. “Great.” He lay back down on the bed, his arms folded behind his head. “We’ll fly back to Connecticut and I’ll build my planes and you’ll…” He frowned up at the ceiling. “Hell, I don’t even know what you do for a living.”

  The statement was met with silence. He glanced at her to find her staring at a spot on the floor as if mesmerized. “Contessa? What is it you do for a living?” She just continued to stare at the floor as if paralyzed. “Contessa?”

  She jerked as if startled awake. “Huh?”

  “I asked what do you do for a living.”

  “I’m a…I’m in business.”

  He frowned. “Wow, I don’t think you can get much more general than that.”

  He watched as she licked her lips and swallowed slowly. When she turned to look at him, her eyes had a slightly wild look to them. “Michael, what’s your last name?”

  His eyebrows rose. “Do you mean we’ve been together this whole week and neither of us has asked the other’s last name? It’s Hillard, by the way. What’s yours?”

  She bit her bottom lip and for a moment he thought she would not answer. Finally, she said. “Smith. Contessa Smith.” She lay back on the bed, snuggling against his side.

  Michael lay staring up at the ceiling, his mind in turmoil. If she wasn’t married, why would she lie about her last name? And there was no doubt she was lying—the only comfort was that she was so lousy at it, she obviously didn’t do it a lot.

  A few minutes later, he turned to her, pulled her into his arms and made love to her. But afterward, instead of the feeling of contentment and satisfaction that usually followed, he felt cold and unexplainably pushed away.

  Contessa fell asleep almost instantly, but Michael lay awake for a long while, replaying the evening in his mind. Something had changed. Something that was said or done had abruptly ended their perfect holiday even sooner than planned. But for the life of him, he could not figure out what.

  Chapter 6

  She was gone. He knew it even before he turned over and looked at the empty pillow next to his head. Reasonably, he knew the sense of dread he was feeling was probably a bit extreme. But there was something about the way she’d looked at him right before they fell asleep the night before, as if she were memorizing his face.

  Throwing back the covers he climbed out of bed, went to the wardrobe closet and opened the doors. All that hung in there were the khaki shorts and while polo shirt he’d worn the day before. Her suitcases, all her clothes, and after a trip to the bathroom he knew her toiletries were gone, as well. They were all gone. Every sign, every bit of evidence that she’d been there was gone.

  He showered and dressed in his slightly wrinkled clothes, all the while feeling as if he were weighed down by lead bars. Once he was dressed, he called the front desk and confirmed his suspicion. She had checked out early that morning.

  Michael fought to control his reaction, but he felt like screaming his denial. She’d left him. Just up and left him without so much as a goodbye. Not even so much as a note. Why?

  He sat on the side of the bed, braced his elbows on his knees and held his head. He tried to understand. How could he have been making love to the woman of his dreams just a few hours before and now she was gone from his life? And he didn’t even know where or how to find her. To his amazement and frustration, he realized that even though they had spent the week in constant conversation he’d learned very little about her.

  Looking back, it was obvious that she’d been deliberately vague, but he’d been so enamored of her pretty face and fantastic body, he had not noticed the stunning lack of substance. Why? What was she hiding?

  He considered that maybe the past week had been some kind of elaborate game. Maybe she was some kind of siren who traveled to hot vacation spots, having meaningless sex with strange men and making them fall in love with her. But no sooner had that thought formulated than he’d discarded it.

  Michael had been with his fair share of women, he knew when he was being played. And truth be told, he’d done his fair share of manipulating over the years, as well. He knew beyond a doubt that what he’d experienced over the past week was real.

  So… Why?

  He stood and took a deep breath. First things first. He would travel to Connecticut and then work out a plan to find her. If for no other reason than to find out what had gone wrong. A troubling thought occurred to him for the first time. Maybe she wasn’t even from Connecticut. Maybe she just said that because he said he was from Connecticut. But why would she do that? Nothing made any sense anymore, he thought, as he collected his wallet and keys from the nightstand and headed out of the suite. At the door, he paused and looked back over the rooms. He glanced out the glass window where the ocean life was going about its business uninterrupted. And he thought about the woman who’d resided there for the past week, the woman who’d stolen his heart. Somehow he would
track her down. Somehow he would find her and get her back.

  Later than day, he completely lost his resolve to get on with life. He canceled his flight, went back to his yacht and proceeded to get completely drunk. He decided there was no point in trying to find a woman who didn’t want to be found.

  He was Michael Hillard, dammit. There were woman falling over themselves to get into his bed. He would not demean himself by chasing down some lying little schemer just so she could see how she had rattled his world. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

  He woke the following morning with a hangover the size of an auditorium, and spent most of the morning in bed nursing it. Thankfully, George had taken care of everything else, so he was allowed to wallow in his self-pity as long as he wanted.

  By the next morning, the headache was gone but not the heartache, nor the feeling that he’d been duped. Thankfully, George asked few questions, but moved around the boat like a ghost picking up behind him, and generally making his life as comfortable as could be.

  That night, he showered, shaved, dressed and headed back to Victoria Parade fully intending to find another dance partner. Someone who could wipe Contessa from his brain. But it didn’t take long for him to realize it was a bad idea. Everywhere he looked he saw her beautiful, smiling face. There was no way he could enjoy this with anyone else.

  The call came on the third day after Contessa had disappeared. His father, gently but firmly, questioning him about his plans. Michael agreed to head home within the next couple days without delay. Just to make sure it happened, his father told him, he was sending his private jet. And he did.

  Michael left the island on schedule. After all, what was the point in staying? As he boarded the flight heading back to the U.S., Michael wondered if he would ever be able to enjoy Fiji again.

  * * *

  As Connie stood beside the company limousine waiting for the Hillard private jet to come to a stop on the runway, she took deep, long breaths. Her heart was racing, in part from the anticipation of seeing Michael again. It had only been a few days since she’d left the island, but it felt like months. The other part of her was fearing the possibility of seeing recognition in his eyes. What would it bring? A look of happiness in being reunited, or revulsion upon seeing her as she really was. Or maybe just confusion, given the way she had run off. Whatever his initial reaction would be, she made a vow to herself to handle it with dignity.

  When she’d arrived home, her worst fears were confirmed. Michael Hillard was indeed the son of her boss, Reginald Hillard. And Reginald was expecting his son any day now to start learning the business. But it got worse in ways she never could’ve imagined.

  Apparently, because she knew so much about the company Reginald wanted her to train him. Which would mean working directly with Michael one-on-one. She’d spent two sleepless nights trying to find a way out of it, and there was none short of quitting her job.

  The plane finally came to a stop and the flight crew moved in to do their various jobs. She double-checked the pleat of her suit jacket. She had chosen a dark blue skirt suit that’s only fashionable touch was the gold-colored buttons that lined the edge and cuffs. Her light auburn hair was darkened and knotted in a bun so tight it was pulling at her temples. Her low-heeled navy blue pumps were completely unadorned and she wore them with skin-colored panty hose. The only jewelry she wore was a pair of tiny gold studs. No makeup, no perfume. There was nothing exceptional about her appearance. This was Connie Vaughn on a typical workday.

  But just as an added precaution, last week she’d bought the dark brown contacts she was now wearing, on the off chance he remembered her only distinctive feature, her hazel eyes.

  She was not wearing a single item from her trip, she had packed everything into a plastic tub and pushed it under her bed. She had tried to pack her memories of the trip in there as well, but no matter how she had tried, she could not wipe away all the wonderful memories of Michael, his touch, his scent, his voice. And now those memories were encouraging her to pull the tight pins out of her hair, tear off her staid business suit and reveal her true self to Michael.

  That’s how she thought of her Contessa persona, as her true self. But in the world where she lived, the world of Hillard Sr., the world of her brother, Brian, and his wife, Annie, that world only knew Connie. And for their sake and hers, from now on, she would have to be Connie to Michael Hillard, as well.

  Contessa would be no more.

  The door on the jet opened and the stairs lowered, and she unconsciously held her breath until the man who’s body she now knew as well as her own appeared in the entryway. He was more handsome than she had remembered, his close-cropped dark hair neatly cut, his chocolate-brown skin as flawless as ever. He—like she—was dressed for business. A dark-colored suit and white shirt perfectly accented by a bright red tie. His broad shoulders filled out the suit in a way padding never could. He had the regal bearing of a young prince and just looking at him broke her heart.

  For the first time in the past few days, Connie was doubtful that she could succeed in keeping her identity a secret. How was she supposed to work with him everyday, day in and day out and never reveal to him who she was? Never remind him of what they had shared and seek it out again? How was she supposed to go the rest of her life without ever lying in his arms again?

  With a light jog he came down the stairs, an entourage of people behind him, including the crew. Immediately, she noticed something different about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. He looked the same, he moved the same, but there was something… .

  She watched as he crossed the open area, headed toward her.

  A few seconds later he was standing in front of her, looking directly at her before she quickly looked away. And in that brief moment, she saw…nothing. Not even a hint of recognition. But that’s exactly what I wanted, right? she thought. A small part of her conscience was honest enough to admit that no, that’s not what she wanted at all.

  He extended his hand. “You must be Connie.”

  Hearing his voice again caught her slightly off guard. Like everything else about him, it was the same, yet different. She tried not to stare, but it was so good to see him again.

  She took the extended hand. “Yes, I am.” She spoke softer than her normal tone, hoping that together with her appearance, his brain would not recognize her voice. “Welcome back to Connecticut, Mr. Hillard. I’m supposed to escort you back directly to the office. Your father is very anxious to meet with you.” She climbed inside the car and moved to the far side, but once he was in the car with her, there was nowhere she could go to get away from his overwhelming presence.

  As the driver closed the door behind him, he settled on the seat across from her and leaned his head back against the cushions and closed his eyes. “Not to be rude, but it’s been a really long day. Hope you don’t mind if I take a little nap on the ride back to the office.”

  Connie frowned. She had a lot to talk to him about, and he wanted to take a nap? She could’ve insisted they discuss his father’s itinerary for him, forced him to stay awake and talk to her. But instead she said nothing, having her own selfish reasons for wanting the silence to stand. She was still reeling from his very real lack of recognition. She knew that was a possibility, had known it all along. But still having it actually happen, looking into his eyes and seeing nothing, it stung, like nothing she’d ever felt before.

  She pushed the automated button to let the window down just slightly, needing some fresh air to cool her heated body. It was just nerves she knew, but she was getting hotter by the moment.

  After a few seconds, she heard soft snoring coming from the other side of the car and realized he was sound asleep. Connie took the opportunity to watch him. He really was a beautiful man, and Connie was still slightly surprised to realize this man was her lover. Would be now, if she had anything resembli
ng a spine running along her back. He was so large, and yet such an incredibly gentle lover. Never once did she feel suffocated, or overwhelmed by his size and strength.

  She let her hungry eyes run over every part of his body, remembering what he had looked like beneath that perfectly tailored suit. She remembered the insecurity in his voice when he had spoken of returning home to take up the helm of his father’s business. Some part of her knew that was a piece of the strain he was currently feeling. She wished she could cross the car to his seat, put her arms around him and comfort him. Let him know the truth of his father’s demand. Tell him that what he thought of as a decree was really just the yearning of a lonely man, wanting to spend more time with his only child before it was too late.

  But of course, she could do none of that, because he thought they were just meeting for the first time and she would of course, know nothing of his secret fears. That was the kind of thing a man shared with his lover.

  She stared out the window of the speeding car wondering when, if ever, would the desire to be with him go away? She had passed the first test, he in no way recognized her. But somehow, her first victory did not feel like a victory at all. In fact, it felt like the exact opposite of a victory.

  Next, she would have to work with him on a continuing basis, and ensure that that nonrecognition continued, at least for the next few months. Then he would be ready to take on his new position and she would be allowed to return to her routine, probably only seeing him occasionally.

  Eventually, the memories of Fiji and the wonderfully sexy and vibrant man she had met there would fade and be replaced by the suited-up businessman sitting across from her right now. At least that was what she was hoping.

  It took almost an hour to drive back to the company headquarters outside of Hartford. He woke up shortly before they arrived, glanced at her briefly, apologized again for sleeping on the ride and turned his attention to staring out the window until they pulled up in the drive.