In Paradise (5 page)

                                 
CHAPTER 5

Jake wondered if he'd died and gone to heaven. He'd never met anyone like
Di. She challenged him sexually and awakened feelings he hadn't experienced for years. It had been so long since he was carefree and playful with a woman.

Had he ever been really? Not as far as he could remember in his thirty-five years.

"Do you think it's safe to put my dress back on?"

"Damn that dress. I don't know what I was thinking. I don't like the thought of you running around the island in it."

Jake surprised even himself with his words. It was true. He didn't want to consider anyone else ogling her. What was that about? Since when did he form attachments so quickly? How about never!

"My mother would have a heart attack if she could see me in this dress. I think I'll wear it everyday while I'm here, since I won't have a reason to wear it back home. Plus it still feels like winter in New York despite being April."

"I can see you strolling through Central Park in that little number and driving men in the big city crazy. I know I can't keep my hands off you." He'd made love to her more times than he could count and still he wanted her, hungered for her.

"If I'd known all it took was a sexy dress to get a man, I'd have hocked Mom's silverware. I hate polishing it anyway."

"Not the family silver!" He laughed. She was a breath of fresh air, so innocent and unassuming.

"Don't laugh. The silver has been in the family since before the Civil War. It's so heavy it wears you out lifting it to your mouth. I never have enough energy to finish my plate." She stopped talking to shake her finger at him. "Don't you dare laugh. Thankfully, Mom only insists on using it on Sundays."

"Then sell the family jewels."

She smiled, then looked away as though he'd embarrassed her. She had the kind of smile that transformed her face from beautiful to extraordinary. How had he ever thought she was plain? Not only was he a jerk, he was a blind jerk.

"The jewels were the first to go. Mom doesn't care for ostentatious baubles. She says a good set of pearls is all a woman really needs."

Jake chuckled. "Pearls are good. I can think of several uses for them." Now if he could just get her to let him show her.

"I don't think you have the same thing in mind as my mother. What could you be thinking?"

"I'll
fill you in
later, when you know me better."

Her expressive eyes grew wide and her plump lips formed an "O."

She was such fun to tease. "I hope you never have to make a living playing poker. I got it! You could sell the oil painting hanging over the fireplace." For some unknown reason his latest jibe missed the mark.

She gave him a frosty stare. "If you only knew. The artwork is
our family curse and blessing all rolled up into one very complicated package."

Jake looked at her more closely. So far they'd been great
together sexually. It would be too much to hope they were intellectually compatible. "Now you've tweaked my curiosity. I consider myself somewhat of a collector."

"You are?" She looked around the kitchen as though not
expecting to see anything important.

"In the living room and den, I have several..."

But Di was ignoring him as she made her way to the back wall of the kitchen. Behind the table, on the wall, hung his most humbling purchase from his pesky neighbor, Boyd. That very painting was the beginning of the end of their somewhat curious friendship. Boyd had even threatened a lawsuit over the miserable forgery.

"Boyd said you had several Raduskis. This one's
surprising."

Nothing she could have said would've irritated him more.

Boyd had convinced him it was an original, and then threatened to sue if Jake tried to deny it. "It only looks like a Raduski. That's why I bought it. Do you think I'd hang a Raduski in the kitchen?"

Di
moved closer. "No, it's a Raduski. There's no doubt about it. I'm positive."

"I've had it examined. It's not. And why is that particular
painting surprising if you already knew I owned several?"

"It
's the subject matter. Not even so-called experts are familiar with it."

"Impossible."

"No, I assure you, it's true. I'm here to give a lecture on Raduski for a local gallery."

Jake's temper flared. "Boyd's handiwork. He put you up to
this."

"What are you talking about? Boyd asked me to speak, but
he had nothing to do with this picture."

"Enough of this. I think you better leave. I'm sick and tired
of falling for Boyd's tricks."

"Why are you so angry with me? I'd think you'd be pleased
to learn you have a valuable painting hanging in your kitchen."

Jake could feel his face heating. The pain of betrayal
overrode his embarrassment. How had he let this happen? How did he allow his enemy's pawn into his life so easily? "So Boyd can make me a laughing stock? What's wrong with that man? Why can't he leave me the hell alone? He's obsessed with bringing me down to his level.

“
Just leave. We can agree to disagree where Boyd's concerned and be glad this thing between us didn't go any farther." Jake walked to the door leading out onto the patio and held it open.

He wasn't about to give her a second chance to
get to him. She already had him doing things he'd never done with a stranger. Still worse, she had him feeling... He wasn't sure what exactly, but at the moment it didn't feel good.

In
fact he was downright miserable. "Tell Boyd it didn't work. Whatever he had planned, it didn't work."

Di
appeared ready to cry as she stared at him with her big, easy-to-read eyes. This hurt her. He wouldn't—couldn't relent. No way was the painting a Raduski. If she lied about that, she would lie about anything.

* * * *
*

Di
didn't have a choice. She turned and walked out of Jake's kitchen the way she'd come. With each step, she prayed to hear his voice calling for her to stop, telling her he'd made an awful mistake.

What had she done to spoil
everything? Why was he being so stubborn about a stupid painting of all things?

A couple of times she stumbled in her borrowed heels as
she made her way down to the beach. She stooped and slipped them off her feet once she reached the sand. All the way back to Boyd's, she held her emotions in check.

Only
once inside the walls of Boyd's house did she let it out. It had grown dark outside before she finally stopped crying long enough to realize it. What had started as paradise had become hell on earth in a matter of seconds.

How?

Why?

Di
couldn't find any reason why Jake had become incensed over the Raduski. She didn't doubt the painting had been executed by her great-great grandfather. The picture of the Hawaiian maiden had been a dark family secret. It was more than a secret, the family scandal to be protected at all costs.

Until the moment she saw the painting she'd believed only a
miniature of the maiden had made it into public hands. The one on Jake's kitchen wall clearly revealed the family disgrace.

Her adulterous ancestor had carried the miniature of
his island mistress on his person until the day he died. In the end she was more than a mistress. He had married the woman, while still married to his second wife.

Only family would know of this. Why would Jake think
there was some sort of conspiracy involving the painting? If she confirmed the painting's originality with the miniature, he would have a painting worth a small fortune. Why wouldn't that information please him?

She searched her memory for any mention from Boyd
about Jake's Raduski. Nothing came to mind. In point of fact, what seemed to interest Boyd was Di's personal relationship with her mother.

He'd been so sympathetic.

Under the circumstances, Di did the only thing she could. She buried her face in her hands and cried her heart out. A week later, Di was no closer to the answers she needed. Each day had been an exercise in torture. She didn’t stay locked away in Boyd’s home. She used the time to see the island. Each sighting of Jake brought excruciating pain.

Why was
it, the person she didn’t want to see was the one who continually popped up everywhere?

It was a toss-up who
Di sighted more often—Jake or the elderly lady from the plane.

To make matters worse, she had promised Boyd not to
reveal he'd left the island. While she didn't understand Boyd's request, she knew that bit of knowledge couldn't bode well. If Jake discovered she was keeping it from him and it blew up in her face, she'd never stand a chance with him. Then again, did she really want a second chance?

The guy had
been a jerk. She told herself it was only about the sex, it wasn't about commitment.

When her
appointment to return to Raul's came, she wanted to cancel. But she had a pair of shoes to return and a promise to keep. Raul had turned her from the ugly duckling into a swan. He deserved to hear what happened.

"He what?!" Raul screamed when
Di told him Jake kicked her out of his house without revealing any of the particulars.

"What is going on between Jake and Boyd Hatcher?" she
whispered so the other patrons wouldn't hear.

"Oh, that!" Raul said too loudly. "That's old news. Those
two used to be best friends. They even co-authored their first book. Then Boyd decided he wanted to make it on his own and write nonfiction. Well, as everyone knows, Jake is the one with the big sales. You'd think that would be enough for him.

“
But no, Jake is still livid about some woman Boyd made a move on. Then just as they seemed to have patched up their relationship, Boyd did something else to make Jake angry again."

Di
knew what Boyd had done, but she had no clue why Jake would think she was involved. "Why would Jake think I have something to do with the feud they're having? I didn't know anything about it. None of it."

"Jake is overly sensitive about anything Boyd does. Boyd
keeps trying to make amends and the two of them just keep on fighting when he's rebuffed by Jake. It's the talk of the island."

"It seems rather cruel of Jake to be so unforgiving."

"You'd have to know Boyd. His own dear, departed mother, God rest her soul, couldn't stand him at times." Raul rested his chin on his index finger. "Although, come to think of it, she's the reason he's so needy. Needy...my beautiful ass, the man can be downright insufferable at times."

"Then why doesn't some kind soul set Boyd straight?"

"Right or wrong, Boyd is Hawaiian, born right here on the island. The island favors its own."

"Jake Forman should be the bigger man. I wanted two
weeks in paradise and all I got was a day."

"Sounds to me like Jake is jealous of your relationship with
Boyd. On a scale of one to ten, how good was this day he gave you, honey?"

"A million, maybe more, but I haven't decided if it's worth
the drama." Di wanted tell Raul she didn't have a relationship with Boyd. She barely knew him. But she'd given Boyd her word not to reveal the nature of their association.

"I knew ol' Jake had it in him! What time is your lecture
today?"

"It's this evening. I talk about seven-ish. It's a small
gallery, so I imagine they aren't too formal."

"No one's too formal on this island. That's why we love it."

"My great-great grandfather Theodore Raduski spent some time here on the island in the 1890s. It's strange more of his paintings haven't been discovered here."

"That would certainly make you an expert."

"You never know when one might pop up. That's the reason Jake kicked me out. He had an unsigned Raduski hanging in his kitchen."

"And he didn't know?"

"He still doesn't. I told him, but he didn't believe me. He thinks it's some sort of hoax I've cooked up with Boyd."

"The man deserves to be taught a lesson. And who better
to teach him then Raul, the master."

"Raul, you've already worked your wonders on me. Let's
leave it at that. I don't think I want to explore my options, if it means dealing with a jerk."

Raul snapped his fingers. "What we accomplished last
week is only the beginning. And nothing good is easy. We are going shopping!”

                                 
CHAPTER 6

Jake had the worst week of his life. Everywhere he turned, she was there. Whether sunning her pale skin on the beach, or jogging along the highway, or strolling about the village like she didn't have a care in the world.

Damn her! Not a single day passed he didn't see her, some days several times.

Each time got harder.

So hard he wondered if she'd
somehow bewitched him. If she'd wanted to upset his life on purpose, she couldn't have done a more effective job.

Now this!

Di stood in a corner of the gallery surrounded by half the male population of Kauai. The drool from the horny crowd could cause a title wave. And to make matters worse, not once did she look his way. Not one damn time!

The white sle
eveless top looked like a bustier. The form-fitting garment pushed her tatas up for everyone to admire. The pristine white lace had a wedding-like quality and left a peak of skin at her midriff showing above the long flowing lace skirt.

Her hair looked blonder than the last time he’d seen her…Raul. How had he ever though her plain?

Did she dress like this with him in mind? Or was it wishful thinking on his part? She had to know he'd been there for the first unannounced exhibit of Raduski in the history of the island. Not even the mainland could boast of the paintings advertised in the flyer, which had arrived at his house by special courier.

A private collection, come to the island because of
Di Stowe's esteemed presence. Could she have been right about the miserable, little painting in his kitchen? Jake had the sinking feeling he'd made a damned fool of himself.

The gallery owner, Sam, clapped his hands to silence everyone. "Your attention, please. There's been a change of venue. As unbelievable as it seems, there're more paintings coming from the mainland. A dozen more, I'm told.

“For security reasons and because not all of those interested in hearing Ms. Stowe will fit in my small gallery, I've rented a large space. Invitations are circulating now. Same time tomorrow evening."

"Damn," Jake cursed and caught the proprietor's attention when he stopped speaking.

"Jake, I thought you'd be pleased. The paintings you'll see tomorrow have never been made public."

"Pleased? Dumbfounded is more like it. How did you get your hands on unknown Raduskis, and are they for sale?"

"So far I've been unsuccessful in convincing their owners to part with a single painting to the general public. Although, a private placement was mentioned. Mrs. Stowe says she might part with a couple of the paintings for the right price and to the right home. She's a picky old bird."

"Are you talking about
Di's Stowe's mother? She owns all these priceless paintings and more besides?

"Mrs. Rachel Stowe of New York City. No one can get her to say exactly how many she has stashed away. I'll see you again tomorrow then? I was certain this would be right up your alley." Sam clapped him on the back and headed off.

Jake was more in the dark than before, but of one thing he was certain. He was a complete fool. He'd kicked Di out of his house. What an idiot! "I'll be there."

Jake waded through the crowded room to get closer to
Di. If he thought she looked like a million bucks in the dress he'd bought for her, then she looked like a billion tonight.             

"
Di," he said to her back and she turned to face him.

"Jake."

"I believe I owe you an apology."

For a second it seemed as if she would turn her back on
him. Her face paled and she winced. Damn. Why had he been such a jerk?

Jake waited for a response, but she gave him nothing
except a frown. It was clear she had no intention of making it easy on him, and he didn't blame her.

"I had no idea you were an expert on Raduski. I should've
kept my big mouth shut."

Di
opened her mouth, then snapped it closed again, her plush lips drawn into a tight line. “Theodore Raduski was my great-great grandfather. Why does it surprise you to learn I’m considered an expert?”

"
I didn’t know. I guess I should have given you a chance to explain. And I didn’t realize you owned a collection of Rasuski’s. Since you don't have to lecture tonight, we could take a drive around the island."

Smooth, Jake. The woman doesn't
even want to talk to you.

Di
hesitated for so long he was certain she'd refuse. "I'd love to get out of here, but I don't want to leave these paintings until the gallery is closed and the guards are in place."

"Guards? Here on the island? It's not like anyone could
make a quick getaway."

Di
looked in both directions, as though someone was about to make a move on her paintings at that very moment. "This makes me so nervous. These paintings haven't been out of the house since before my mother was born."

"So a drive is out of the question?"

"If you can wait until after closing, I’ll consider it."

"I'll wait." Last thing he wanted was to stand in the same
room with a cock so hard he couldn't walk without drawing attention to it. "Over in the corner, behind the potted palm."

She quirked her brows into another frown, then nodded. "I
need to be available for questions."

"Maybe I better leave the palm to some other poor jerk
with a boner. I want to hear every word you have to say about these paintings. I have three by the artist. No, I mean I have four."

"You believe me now?"

"I never should've doubted you."

"Raul told me about your problems with Boyd. It seems I
landed in the middle of a long time feud without prior knowledge. It's not fair. I don't have a clue what's going on, except my life has taken a turn for the worst. And I don't know what to do about it."

Jake could swear he saw tears glistening in her eyes.
"You're right. My problems with you have nothing to do with Boyd. Do they?"

* * * *
*

Di
wanted to say no. The back of her throat started to constrict. Before she knew it, tears were pouring down her face. Probably black tears, since Raul had been heavy-handed with the makeup.

She turned and ran for the
restroom.

"What? Is it something I said?" Jake said to her back.

What have I done?
Di didn't know what to do. She locked the door behind her and grabbed a handful of tissues from the countertop.

"Let me in."
Raul.

"This is a woman's bathroom," she called to the zany
hairdresser. He'd brought her to the gallery and had been so solicitous she wanted to scream.

"If you're in there ruining all my hard work, I'll be
annoyed. Jake Forman has rocks for brains if he turned you away again."

Raul was talking loudly enough for everyone in the gallery
to hear. Di had no choice. She opened the door. "Get in here before everybody knows what's going on."

Raul swept into the tiny room and glared at the streaks
running down her face. "This is small town living at its best. Everybody already knows."

"Guess again. Boyd must've stolen these paintings
. According to the gallery owner, there're a dozen more on the way. It's not possible my mother would agree to this."

"What?"

"Boyd must have had this planned since I met him in New York. I remember at the time, he was much too interested in my mother. He must've come to the house behind my back and cased the place. I've been trying to get my mother on the phone ever since I walked in here tonight and saw the paintings. I think I need to call the police to check on my mother. What if Boyd killed her?"

"Killed your mother? Boyd?"

Di reached into her bag for her phone. She flipped it open and speed dialed her house. No answer. "That's it. I've waited long enough. I'm calling the police."

Raul chewed his perfectly manicured fingernails while she
dialed New York City information for the station house in their neighborhood.

Meanwhile, someone knocked on the door and
Raul told them to use the men's room.

"This is Sergeant Bronkowski. How can I help you?"

"My name's Di Stowe. I live on the corner of Sixth and Magnolia."

"Stowe mansion? The haunted house everyone calls the
hangman's house?"

"That'd be the one."

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm in Hawaii and I can't reach my mother. I left her with
a nurse and no one is answering the phone."

"Maybe she's sleeping? You have any idea what time it is
here?"

"She's a very light sleeper and there's a phone next to her
bed."

"You want me to send an officer over to check it out? I'll
have to get the squad to draw straws to see who goes."

Di
resisted calling him a smartass. "It's more complicated than that. A half a dozen expensive paintings arrived at a gallery here in Kauai today. My mother would never have willingly parted with those paintings. I think something has happened to her."

"How expensive are we talking here?"

"The six paintings I've seen could sell for well over a million each. There are twice that many coming tomorrow."

“
I'm sorry, Miss Stowe. I'll dispatch someone right now. Do you want to hold?"

"Please."

Di listened to the NYPD public announcement and starting chewing her fingernail.

"Stop that," Raul demanded.

"You were doing it."

"I was?" He held both hands out in front of him and
sighed. "I was."

"Miss Stowe?"

"Yes, Sergeant Bronkowski."

"I have an officer at your front door. No one is answering."

"There's a key under the brass armadillo, next to the dead poinsettia."

"I'll tell him. Hold on."

"There's no answer at my house," she told Raul. "I'm on hold again."

Someone tried to open the restroom door again and began
to knock. "Go away," Raul demanded.

"Open this door."

"The gallery owner. The little shit," Raul said.

"Raul, open this door. I know it's you. You have no
business in the woman's restroom. At least no business I want to know about."

Raul huffed.
"Go away. I'm in here with Miss Stowe and she says if you interrupt us one more time she's taking her paintings and leaving."

"Miss Stowe?" the gallery owner called.

"Go away," she said.

"Miss Stowe?"

"Yes, Sergeant Bronkowski."

"Officer Peters didn't fi
nd anything out of the ordinary. Well, that's not exactly true, but he didn't find any reason to suspect foul play. He did, however, find a note addressed to the NYPD, with the caution you'd send for us. And so you have. It directed us to contact your mother's solicitor, which we did. He says she's fine and will be in touch with you soon."

"But my mother never leaves the house."

"Her lawyer assured us she left the house of her own free will. She's fine, Miss Stowe. Relax and enjoy Hawaii. Be glad you aren't here—the temperature is freezing."

"Thank you, Sergeant Bronkowski. I'm sorry to trouble
you."

"No problem, Miss Stowe. The boys at the station house
will be talking about this night for some time."

With that,
Di flipped the phone shut. She'd soon be the laughing stock of New York City. What was her mother thinking to leave the house knowing full well Di would have no choice but to call the police?

"Well?" Raul said expectantly.

"Apparently my mother is okay."

"How did the paintings get here?"

"I still think Boyd must've stolen them. Maybe my mother realized there was nothing she could do to keep the public out of our lives now. Maybe she went to a hotel in hopes of avoiding the press."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, but maybe you
should get back out there and see if the gallery owner knows anything. And don't forget about Jake."

"How could I forget about Jake? When he discovers his
mortal enemy has...what does this really have to do with Jake? It's not like Jake is out anything? Maybe he'll be disappointed in me, but he isn't emotionally invested in me.

“
And I had nothing to do with this!" Di stamped her foot on the tile floor.

"You go, girl! Get mad. Then go get your man. Get him out
of here and show him the best time he's ever had."