GHOSTS OF ST. BARTS a totally addictive romance read (St. Barts Romance Books Series Book 5) (8 page)

Chapter 9

“Judith, I need your help. No, Bliss.” Sunny removed a half-chewed relic from her daughter’s hand. “That’s the dog’s bone. Take it out of your mouth. It tastes nasty.”

Three generations of women were on the deck at Sunny and Sven’s villa in St. Barts. Judith was relaxing after her long circuitous flight from Norway, luxuriating in the warm sunshine and the presence of her two most favourite females in the whole world. The dog, Sponge, was lolling at Judith’s feet inhaling the lingering scent of her absent canine friend Frigga.

“What’s the problem? What,” she asked with an exasperated sigh, “has my son done now?”

Sunny’s face took on the mulish expression that always meant trouble. “He’s being reasonable again,” she sputtered.

“Oh well, that’s to be expected. Just tell him to take a minute and think things through . . . What did you say? Sven’s being reasonable?”

“And calm. Considerate. Patient. Understanding.” With each word, her voice rose in anger.

Judith eyed her daughter-in-law with interest. She was working up quite a head of steam. Sunny very rarely got angry. This might be fun. “The brute!” Judith responded, with a glint in her eye.

“It’s even worse than that,” said Sunny, the sarcasm sailing right over her head. “He’s being . . . nice!”

“Sven? Nice? Are you sure? You’re not drunk?”

Sunny topped up their glasses of Pinotage with an angry motion, spilling some on the coffee table. She didn’t even bother to mop it up. This was serious, thought Judith. “My son may be many things but he isn’t
nice
.”

“No. He’s never
nice
. Nice is a beige colour. Sven isn’t beige; he’s purple or crimson or midnight black. He’s not fucking
nice
!”

Sunny blushed when she realized she’d sworn in front of the baby but Bliss didn’t seem to notice, happily scribbling in her ‘Babar the Elephant’ colouring book.

Struggling for control, Sunny continued. “He can be kind and gentle but he’s not nice all the time. Sven is larger than life and dramatic.”

Judith chimed in, “Don’t forget selfish and self-centered. How about petulant and spoilt?”

Sunny’s lips twitched. “Naughty and headstrong?”

“An absolute adolescent?”

The two women collapsed in laughter. Bliss reached up, not wanting to be left out.

“Yes, sweetie. We were talking about your beloved daddy. But he’s my son and I’ve known him longer than the two of you put together. I’m under no illusions.”

Putting Bliss back down to finish colouring Babar an unlikely shade of tangerine, Judith asked, “What do you suppose has brought about this complete change in personality?”

“Something happened between us in London. It’s all right now,” Sunny rushed to explain. “I’m seeing my therapist again on the island and I’m going to go to group sessions when I get home. I had a flashback to when Clyde attacked me. Apparently I have something called post-traumatic stress disorder.”

Sunny brushed away Judith’s evident concern. “I thought I’d fixed things between us, but apparently not. You’ll see. He’s changed. He’s subdued and calm. It’s all ‘Whatever you think is best’ or ‘If that’s what you want, dear.’ That’s not Sven. If I wanted to be with someone nice, I would have stayed single.”

Judith choked back a laugh. How well her daughter-in-law knew herself — Sunny was the epitome of nice. Her niceness and Sven’s opposing personality complemented each other perfectly.

The subject of this conversation burst through the front door, pulling out his ear buds and swiping at his glistening brow as he rushed across to give his mother a hug and a kiss.

“It wouldn’t be Christmas in St. Barts without you.”

Bliss’s cry of “Daddy!” won her another sweaty kiss.

“Good job with the colouring. I like orange elephants. Have you two been catching up?”

“More or less.”

Judith smiled at how happy and healthy they all looked, and how relaxed. Nice?

“Do you like what we’ve done — what Sunny had done — to the pool area?”

Judith looked around. There were now three levels where there had previously been one. The earthquake had cracked the old pool and Sunny had taken the opportunity to do some upgrading. The ground level patio was surrounded by raised beds filled with tropical flowers and herbs. There was a built-in barbecue and a raised fire pit with chairs for sunbathing. It was cantilevered over a second level on which Judith could see a wading pool with dancing waters, perfect for cooling off a toddler and a hot English Bull Terrier. On the third level down, Judith spied the pristine waters of a long, narrow pool built into the rock face, its edge jutting out over the sea. Sunny wouldn’t have to go into town to get her daily laps any longer.

“I can’t wait to go for a dip. I like how you’ve secured each level so the baby’s safe. The acrylic barriers don’t interfere with the view. Good job, both of you!”

Sven wouldn’t take any credit. “Oh, it wasn’t me. It was all Sunny.”

With a barely noticeable grimace, Sunny changed the subject. “I thought dinner at Savannah’s?”

Sven smiled in agreement. “Sunny knows best.”

Judith tried not to smirk as she caught his wife rolling her eyes behind his back.

“I’ll go get cleaned up. I’m glad you’re here, Mother,” he said with a pleasant hug and went off to shower.

As the bedroom door closed Judith turned to Sunny in mock alarm. “It’s even worse than you said. He’s being polite!”

* * *

Philippe, Savannah’s owner and head chef greeted Judith with effusive hugs and kisses. They were old friends. She was glad to see so many familiar faces scattered among the diners — St. Barts really had become her second home. The food and service hadn’t changed; it was as solicitous and welcoming as ever. She felt her jet lag ebb away. She’d sleep well tonight.

The three of them were sharing a chocolate soufflé and sipping after-dinner vanilla rum, an island speciality, as diners for the second sitting began arriving. They’d made early reservations in deference to Judith and so that they’d be home in time to tuck in Bliss.

Sunny’s spoon clattered onto her plate. Then she was up in a flash, tipping over her chair and rushing to jump into the waiting arms of a late diner.

Sven turned around to see his wife being enthusiastically embraced by a distinguished looking man who had black hair streaked with grey. Her hair covered his face.

The stranger radiated authority and commanded attention. Sven could hear the buzz coming from the onlookers and he frowned. He recognized this man, but from where?

Sven wasn’t the only one puzzling over the identity of the man who’d just swept in like some Knight on a charger and taken the actor’s wife in his arms. The day-old stubble, chinos and polo shirt threw them. In his usual setting — on the cover of Forbes or in the Wall Street Journal or at meetings of the International Monetary Fund, he was impeccably groomed in a tailored suit.

As Sunny’s lips left his, Sven recognized Linus Craig. He hadn’t seen him since the day Bliss was born. He knew Sunny kept in touch. They discussed, through email and phone calls, the distribution of the scholarships for the island children in memory of Mimi, Sunny’s friend and Linus’s former lover. Sven knew he owed him a debt he could never repay, for Linus had rescued Sunny and their unborn daughter from the tsunami that had taken Mimi’s life. He also knew that if there ever was a rival for his wife’s affection it would be this guy; the smart, very handsome and competitive billionaire. His stomach twisted in pure jealousy, he plastered a welcoming expression on his face and prepared to act friendly.

Sunny couldn’t stop smiling at Linus’s familiar features and tousled hair. “You never said! You never called and said you’d be here. I can’t believe it. It’s been too long. You have to meet Bliss, you haven’t seen her yet. She’s gotten so big.”

Sunny tucked her arm into his and drew Linus over to their table. He had a slight limp from a shattered ankle; his legacy from the tsunami.

“Judith!” he said, kissing her cheek. “You haven’t aged a bit. Still lovely. And Sven.” He turned to shake the actor’s hand
.
“Congratulations on the Oscar. Well deserved! I loved
The
Barbarian King
. The way your character and Sir Henry’s Caesar interacted was amazing. I was sorry to hear about his death. We’ve lost one of the greats.”

Sunny impatiently interrupted the pleasantries. “What are you doing here? How long are you staying? What are your plans?”

“I decided it was time to come back. And it’s about time I did my part for The Chastelaine Foundation. I owe it to Mimi’s memory.”

Seeing Sunny’s cautious glance, he patted the hand he’d yet to release. “Don’t worry. I’m much better now. I’ve made peace with her death and everything else. As for my plans, I’m staying through the holidays. You’re all invited to my New Year’s Eve party.”

“Linus, you hate those things!”

“What can I tell you? I lost a bet so now I’m stuck hosting a big formal gala. Say you’ll come. It wouldn’t be a party without you.”

“We’d be delighted. But I have so much to tell you. Would you like to join us? I can call the sitter. She can stay late.”

“We’ll catch up tomorrow. I presume as co-chair of the Chastelaine Foundation you wouldn’t mind me actually attending a board meeting?”

“Wait until you see the candidates for this year’s scholarships. They’re outstanding. Mimi would be so pleased.”

“There’s my dinner date.”

Sunny smiled as Reverend Nelson hopscotched his way through the restaurant, exchanging hugs and greetings.

Sven’s jaw clenched when Linus kissed Sunny good night. It was only a kiss on the cheek, but still it pained.

The vicar also noticed. Sampling the wine they had chosen for dinner, a fine Bordeaux, James broached the subject.

“Is it good to be back?”

Linus swallowed audibly. “Too soon to tell. There are a lot of memories to deal with. That’s what this visit is all about — laying the ghosts to rest.”

“Was it tough seeing her again?” The clergyman knew that Linus had been in love with Sunny. He even knew about their one stolen, passionate kiss.

The billionaire never shied away from a direct question.

“I thought I was over her. I could look at her picture and hear her voice and it was pleasant, just pleasant. But in the flesh — she still takes my breath away.” He sighed as he sipped his wine. “Sunny is still the most desirable woman I’ve ever met.”

The Reverend shook his head. “You aren’t here to cause trouble, are you? In my professional capacity I can’t allow that. And as Sunny’s friend, I won’t.”

“Could I cause trouble? She looked happy.” Linus was probing.

“Stop it. This is beneath you. Let’s talk about something else. The church is fine, thanks to your donation. The underpinnings worked and the foundation is solid again. No sign of earthquake damage. The new stained glass windows are in.” There was no mention of the uncanny resemblance of one of the angels to his parishioner, with the same strawberry curls and greenish-grey eyes.

“And Mimi’s memorial garden?”

“Perfect. The gardener has his work cut out for him keeping the paler roses flourishing in the heat and humidity. Mould and black spot. But they look wonderful. Come and see after the meeting tomorrow.”

“It’s a date.”

* * *

Sunny chattered about Linus’s sudden reappearance all the way home, and continued as she settled Bliss down for the night.

“He makes me feel so safe,” she said, nuzzling her daughter’s tummy.

Sven tried not to grimace but he was stung to the quick. He never made Sunny feel safe. That was Linus’s ace in the hole.

“Are you coming to bed?”

“I think I’ll take Sponge out for a walk. Don’t wait up. You have a busy day tomorrow.” With a gentle kiss on her forehead, Sven picked up the leash and took the eager dog out to wear off some energy.

Sunny’s face fell as the door closed behind them. Tonight it was the dog needed a walk. The night before it was because Bliss was teething. Email to answer. A late night phone call from his agent in Los Angeles. Sven had been making excuses not to have sex with her, staggering their bedtimes. One morning she’d found him asleep on the couch in the Great Room. They’d only made love once since London. He’d been so gentle she might have been a soufflé he was afraid would fall with the slam of the oven door.

This couldn’t continue. She’d talked to her therapist about it. She and Sven had been celibate for long stretches before, but then they had been apart physically, not emotionally. As she rubbed moisturizer into legs that would lie untouched again tonight, Sunny remembered what the doctor had said. Sven felt guilty and was afraid of losing control and hurting her again.

Okay, she understood.

But that didn’t prevent her from longing for his touch, his kiss. She even felt a pang of envy when he snuggled their daughter — or gave the dog a belly rub. Understanding didn’t stop Sunny from reaching out for his empty pillow, hoping against hope that he’d find his answers in the clear night sky and come home and want her again.