Private Paradise (9 page)

“
Why? What's going on?” Sam's voice was
so close behind her she could feel the heat radiating off his skin.
It should have turned her off. Instead it made her want to throw
him down to the floor and crawl all over him, see how sweaty they
could get before they hit the shower and helped each other get
squeaky clean.

Bryce wasn't immune to Sam's masculine beauty
under the best of circumstances, and his eyes got a glazed look as
he took in Sam's sweat slick form as he moved beside Carla.

“
Bryce, focus,” Carla
snapped.

Bryce's frosted head jerked and he refocused
on her with an expression so grave and unlike him Carla felt the
bottom drop out of her stomach.

“
You know tropical storm Edina? The one
that's been brewing off the coast of Venezuela?”

The knot in Carla's stomach pulled tighter.
This being September and the height of hurricane season, they'd
been monitoring several storms over the last few weeks. In the
entire time she'd worked at Holley Cay they'd only been hit with a
severe storm once, four years ago.

Since then, they'd been lucky enough to avoid
the worst hurricane seasons in decades.

“
They've upgraded it to a hurricane, at
least category four. And unless there's a sudden change in
direction, it's headed right for us.”

Their luck was about to run out.

###

Carla's blood turned to ice as she looked at
the satellite pictures of the storm, moving in an ominous mass
across the blue expanse of the Caribbean. Against the expanse of
the storm, Holley Cay looked like a pin dot on the map.

The storm was indeed headed right for them,
and she was picking up speed.

“
We have to evacuate, and fast,” Chris
said over the speaker phone. Carla nodded absently then remembered
he couldn't see her. “They think the storm is going to hit by this
afternoon.”

“
I know,” she said, the knowledge
filling her with dread. Even though it was the low season, the
resort only half full and a reduced staff, it meant organizing over
fifty people―of whom at least thirty were the very definition of
high maintenance―to evacuate the island in a safe and orderly
fashion before they were overcome with what were predicted to be
one hundred mile per hour winds and swells that could very well
crest the breakwater and flood the villas closest to the beach on
the windward side of the island. “We have the plan in
place―”

“
I have a couple of changes I'd like to
suggest before we move forward.”Carla looked up to see Sam in the
doorway. Unlike Carla, who had come straight to the office from the
gym, Sam had taken a quick shower and changed. His hair was still
damp, curling a little at the ends, and he was dressed in a clean
white polo with the resort logo and a pair of khaki's.

The smell of soap and clean male skin flooded
her nostrils, making her acutely aware of her own disheveled state,
her ponytail a rats nest of curls, the salt of dried sweat coating
her skin and making her itch. God only knew what she smelled
like.

She shook her head snapped herself back to
attention. What the hell was wrong with her, worrying about what
Sam might think about what she looked or smelled like when they
were about to have a head on collision with the worst storm to hit
Holley Cay in the resort's history? “Sam, we have this covered. We
really don't have the time to discuss this, so if you could just
leave and wait for instructions―”

“
If I'm not mistaken emergency planning
is a significant part of my job here. I had extensive experience in
the military planning for and dealing with natural disasters. I
know you'd like for me to keep my distance but I think in this case
you need to put whatever personal issues you have aside and let me
contribute.”

Carla felt her face flame red. How dare he
accuse her of being unprofessional? So what if she was still
reeling from what had happened in the gym? She'd never let that get
in the way of doing what was best for the guests and the resort.
And Sam was right. Emergency and evacuation planning fell under his
umbrella and he no doubt had more hands-on experience than Carla by
far. Still, it almost choked her to admit, “You're right. Tell us
your suggestions.”

In a sick way, Carla was almost grateful for
the storm barreling their way, as it provided a much-needed
distraction as she and Sam worked side by side to get the resort
buttoned up and the guests and staff down to the dock to be taken
to St. Thomas by ferry.

It saved her from having to summon up every
last shred of control to pretend she was indifferent to him, that
she didn't obsess over Sam's very revealing apology every waking
hour of her day. With the clock ticking and only a few hours to get
everyone off Holley Cay before the storm hit, for the first time in
a week she didn't have time to argue with herself about whether or
not she should put any stock in what Sam had said.

About how sorry he was, how much he'd cared
about her. How he hadn't meant what he'd said, that he'd only
lashed out in a fit of insecurity.

Under the best of circumstances, she didn't
have time wrestle with herself, trying to convince the stupid,
naïve girl inside of her, the one who still had a soft spot for her
first love, that nothing he said mattered. She'd spent all week
repeating to herself that it was all over and done and he could be
as sorry as he wanted but it didn't mean she'd be dumb enough to
open herself up to Sam, or any other man for that matter.

Now, she barely had time to think as they put
the evacuation plan into action. Carla took a few minutes to shower
and change. Forgoing her usual wardrobe for obvious reasons, she
pulled on a pair of Bermuda shorts with her Holley Cay polo shirt
and slipped on a pair of running shoes that would protect her feet
if any debris started flying.

She met Sam in the lobby, where he was doing
an admirable job of keeping the guests' anxiety under control.

“
Are you sure it's safe for us to take
the ferry?” fretted a rail thin blond with a strong New York
accent. Her husband, a senior partner in a major investment firm,
looked equally concerned.

“
The ride to St. Thomas is only about
forty-five minutes,” Sam said, his deep, measured voice betraying
none of the stress he was feeling. “As long as the ferries leave
the dock in the next hour there should be no problem avoiding the
first wave of the storm.”

Despite his reassurances, there was an
anxious murmur among the guests as they milled around, clutching
purses and carryons, taking turns looking wide-eyed out the windows
over a sea that had grown choppier in the last several minutes.

Carla couldn't blame them for their fear.
Though the storm was still a hundred miles away from Holley Cay, it
had already passed Puerto Rico and inflicted major damage to the
strip of hotels along the island's south west tip.

She could only pray that the storm would lose
some of its force by the time it reached Holley Cay.

In the next several minutes, she helped Sam
and the rest of the staff get guests loaded onto the resort's fleet
of golf carts to be shuttled down to the dock. Despite the stress
working with Sam had put on her in the past week, now she was
grateful for his presence.

Not only did he remain unruffled even as
Carla struggled to keep her cool in front of the guests, his aura
of leadership, combined with his height and muscle mass were more
than a match for the massive egos of several of the resorts'
guests.

Anyone who questioned the methods of
evacuation or the order in which guests were being transported was
politely but firmly put in their place as the rapidly dwindling
crowd was taken to the docks.

Soon the lobby was empty, but as Carla did a
quick tally in her head she realized the occupants of one villa
were unaccounted for.

“
Where are the Waters twins?” Sam
echoed her thoughts.

Carla didn't bother hiding her frustrated
groan. “Probably still sleeping off whatever they did last
night.”

“
I'll go drag them out of bed,” Sam
said, his voice grim.

“
No way. I know you were special forces
and all, but I wouldn't put it past them to tie you up and hold you
as their sex slave, never mind the storm coming in.”

Sam actually blanched at the thought. Carla
suppressed a grin, wondering if he knew how many points he scored
with his visible revulsion to the idea. “You go help Rodney make
sure everything is locked down, and I'll meet you at the dock.”

She grabbed a golf cart and sped off to the
twins' villa on the windward side of the island. As Carla parked
the cart the wind picked up, whipping her ponytail against her
cheek. Though the air was warm and moist, goosebumps prickled on
Carla's skin.

The reality of the storm looming closer lent
an urgency to her knocks as she went to round up the twins.

A muffled, “go away” was barely audible over
the gust of wind whipping over the island.

Carla knocked harder. “Kayla, Karena, you
need to come with me to the dock right now.”

When the door remained firmly shut, Carla
took out her own key and unlocked the front door. Fortunately, the
twins hadn't thrown the deadbolt. The door swung open to reveal the
girls lounging on the couch in the main room. Two pairs of
identical green eyes glared up at her.

“
Like, what the hell do you think
you're doing?” Kayla said.

“
Yeah,” Karena chimed in. “We're like,
paying guests. You can't just barge into our room.”

Carla bit back a snotty retort, reminding
herself that these evil little snots were her guests and had to be
treated as such. “Ladies, I'm so sorry to intrude, but there's a
major storm headed our way and we have to evacuate the island.”

Karena blinked sleepily. “Like, leave?”

“
Yes, like, leave.”

Neither made any move to get off the couch.
“Look, I'm kinda hungover,” Kayla said, gesturing to the array of
half empty liquor bottles scattered across the low table in front
of the couch, “and I don't really feel like going anywhere. So I
think we're cool just, like, waiting it out.”

Carla took a deep, calming breath and pasted
what she hoped looked like a sympathetic smile on her face. “Wow, I
know, hangovers are a total drag, and I can see why you might want
to take it easy today, but the evacuation is not optional. It's not
safe for you to stay here.”

Karena settled deeper into the cushions and
cocked an eyebrow. “Isn't it like, our choice if we don't mind
risking it?” She and her sister exchanged another look. “I've never
been in a real hurricane before,” she said, a little thrill in her
voice. “Sounds exciting.”

Carla felt her patience spread a little
thinner. “You can watch the excitement from your hotel in St.
Thomas, but right now, you have to get down to the dock. All the
other guests are waiting.”

Kayla sighed heavily, unfolded her mile long
legs and got off the couch. Karena followed. Moving at roughly the
speed of a banana slug, they wandered upstairs to the bedrooms.
Carla followed. “For now all you'll need is your passport and
enough clothing for a few days.”

Ignoring her, Karena stopped at the upstairs
storage closet and yanked out a full size steamer trunk stamped
with a well known designer logo. She dragged it, grunting, into the
first bedroom and started emptying the contents of the dresser into
it.

Carla held up her hands. “Karena, we don't
have time for you to pack everything. Once the storm passes we'll
either get you back here or make sure everything is returned safely
at no cost-”

“
Yeah, right,” Kayla said as she
marched in with an armload of shoes. “Like you people aren't going
to be going through and looting everyone's stuff as soon as we
leave?”

Carla curled her fingers into a fist as she
resisted the urge to slap her. “We're all evacuating the island so
no one will be here to loot. Even so, no one on my staff would dare
steal from a guest.”

Karena let out a snort. “Right. Tell that to
my friend who had her panties up on eBay.”

Carla's jaw clenched and she realized short
of hogtying the girls and loading them onto the golf cart, she
wasn't getting out of here until the girls were ready. She dove
into the fray, gathering up armloads of clothes, shoes, and
lingerie and cramming it into the trunk and two suitcases the girls
had brought.

The walkie talkie on her hip beeped. Carla
paused in her packing to answer. “Carla, where are you?” Bryce's
voice was slightly frantic as it crackled over the receiver.

“
Just helping the Waters get packed up
and ready to go.”

“
Well you need to get down to the dock,
now. Everyone's loaded up and we just got notice that the storm is
moving faster than we initially thought.”

Carla clipped the receiver back on her hip
and grabbed a suitcase, ignoring Kayla's squawk of protest. “You
heard him girls. Edina's going to hit soon, and if we don't get you
off the island, all your precious Louboutins and Louis Vuitton
luggage will get carried off by the storm.”

Should have used that as my opener, Carla
thought, because suddenly the girls sprang into action, packing up
the last of their belongings at warp speed. Carla huffed as she
lugged the first suitcase out to the cart. Rain had started to
fall, and she felt the fat drops pelt the top of her head. She went
back up stairs for the other suitcase and found the girls
struggling to lift the trunk.

“
You take the suitcase,” Carla said to
Karena, “I'll help with the trunk.” Even with her regular workouts,
Carla struggled to lift her end off the floor. “Jesus Christ, is
this thing lined with lead?”