Something to Believe In (10 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“S
O
WHERE
ARE
WE
GOING
?” Justin asked. “Go easy on
me, I’m a beginner.”

She flashed a grin. “I don’t remember that being part of the
deal. You wanted to paint something. So I will take you someplace that if you
have an artistic bone in your body, will inspire you.”

“Intriguing,” he said. “Should I be scared or excited?”

“Depends on your sense of adventure,” she answered with a shrug
that immediately made him laugh.

“Well, I’ll have you know I have an overinflated sense of
adventure according to my friends. All the best—or worst—escapades we’d ever
done were courtesy of yours truly.”

“Such as?”

He paused, realizing that he’d have to share some of his real
life to answer her question. He wasn’t ashamed of who he was, but he’d begun to
enjoy the anonymity of being no one. He never needed to worry if Lilah’s
feelings and opinions were her own or simply what she thought he wanted to hear
because of who he was. “What do you want me to say? I was a bad boy,” he said,
softening his deflection with a smile he knew she’d like. “But I’m a reformed
bad boy, I assure you.”

“Is such a thing possible?” she teased.

“Put me to the test and I’ll prove it.”

“And how would I do that?”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

She did a double take. “Dinner?”

“Yeah, on a real date.”

Lilah’s easy smile faltered and he wondered if he’d pushed too
hard too soon. The pink tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her lips as she
paused to consider his offer. Damn it, he swore in his mind, mentally berating
himself for jumping the gun. He opened his mouth to joke his way out of his
blunder when she sent him a sweetly coy, but entirely sexy look, and answered
with a cryptic, “We’ll see how well the painting goes and play it by ear.”

He wanted to crow. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no, either.
He’d take it.

Justin let out a shaky breath and smiled into the sunlight,
eager to spend the day with his mysterious island girl.

* * *

L
ILAH
WAS
PLAYING
a
dangerous game but the heady rush was becoming addictive.

She craved time with Justin unlike anything she’d ever
experienced. This was normal, she told herself. And if she’d never fallen into a
terrible bout of depression, she would have likely ignored her misgivings and
enjoyed Justin’s company without reservation. The fact that she was operating
under an enormous black cloud was becoming an irritant.

“We’re going to Annaberg, the remnants of one of the sugar
plantations I told you about the other day, in case you’re still wondering,” she
supplied with a grin, pushing the hair from her eyes. “I could take you to the
overlook of Trunk Bay, but that’s cliché. I mean, it’s beautiful, don’t get me
wrong, but I think there’s something melancholy about the ruins that plucks at
the heartstrings. At least it does for me.”

“Then the ruins it is. I’m eager to see them.”

Lilah smiled and pulled off the main road to a smaller road
that led to the ruins and before too long they were pulling into the parking
lot.

“A regular tourist attraction isn’t cliché?” Justin asked,
climbing from the Jeep, noting the people milling about. “And here I thought we
were going somewhere remote and forgotten.”

“You and I can’t be trusted with remote and forgotten places,”
she said. “Our clothes tend to fall off.”

“And that’s a problem why?”

She gave him a stern look. “Because you’re here to learn. Now
grab your stuff and we’ll head out.”

Justin shouldered his pack, grabbed his easel and fell into
step behind Lilah. She knew without having to turn around that his attention was
centered on her behind so when she heard him curse and stumble on a rock, she
couldn’t help but giggle. She cast a short glance his way. “Everything
okay?”

“Just fine,” he answered. “Just gotta keep my eyes on where I’m
going, not where I want to be.”

Her cheeks flared but her heart skipped a beat. How did she
ever hope to keep her distance from this man? At that moment, she was intensely
grateful they were surrounded by other people because she had the urge to throw
him down beneath the first available sugar apple tree and have her wicked way
with him.

“So, Annaberg was once a very prosperous sugar plantation back
when slave labor was legal. The life of a sugar plantation slave was no picnic.
They worked eighteen- to twenty-hour days, six days a week and even had to farm
their own gardens because the plantation owners couldn’t afford to feed
them.”

“Bonus. Art and history lessons,” he quipped, and she laughed.
“No, don’t get me wrong. I love it. If all my teachers had been as hot as you,
I’d have been a better student.”

Lilah ignored his sneaky compliment and continued, “Well, they
also made rum from the sugarcane, so nothing went to waste. It was backbreaking
work and the slaves were often starving, diseased and overworked.”

“Sounds like they needed to unionize,” Justin said.

“Well, they did, 1800s-style. If revolting and overrunning the
plantation in a bloody coup can be considered a unionizing tactic.”

“Awesome. My kind of history lesson—bloody and violent.”

“Yes, I thought you’d find that interesting. Anyway, once slave
labor was abolished, the plantations could no longer sustain themselves and
sugarcane production in the Virgin Islands fell by the wayside.”

“Pretty cool history,” he said, adding ruefully, “If not a bit
bloody and horrifying on both sides of the coin. I mean, sucked to be a slave
but then when the slaves revolted, sucked to be the plantation owner. Hard to
believe so much bloodshed happened in a place so beautiful.”

She chuckled and shrugged. “Sometimes beauty is a great
shield,” she said.

“If that’s true, you must be hiding all sorts of secrets,
because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

If only he knew. She forced a light smile and said wryly, “That
was the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard. Has it ever worked?”

He laughed. “Not even remotely. But I actually mean it this
time.”

“I feel sorry for all those other girls who thought you meant
it the times you said it to them.”

Justin clutched at his heart as if she’d shot him clean through
and she laughed at his theatrics. “You wound me,” he gasped in pretend pain.
“You are a cruel woman, Lilah Bell.”

“Not cruel, just not naive.” She gestured to the top of the
hill. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

They trudged the final distance to the outlook and Justin wiped
away the sweat beading his brow as he gently dropped his pack to the ground.
They’d pulled away from the throng of people clogging the main artery of the
plantation and settled in a spot that had a great view of Tortola.

“Man, you were right. There is a melancholy air to this place,”
he said, shading his eyes as he scanned the area. “Maybe it’s all the souls of
those poor slaves who had the misfortune to be brought here.”

Lilah nodded and removed her water bottle from her pack. “Makes
sense to me.”

“You like it here?” he asked, taking in the skeleton of the
crumbling plantation and the ruin of the formerly prosperous sugar mill. “It’s
beautiful but kind of depressing,” he observed.

Lilah paused, his casual observance striking a chord. Yes, she
supposed it was. Maybe that was why it had always been one of her favorite
places. It’d plucked at that dark core of her, singing a melody she could
understand but others couldn’t quite hear. “Do you believe places can retain an
imprint of the people who inhabited them?”

“No.”

His blunt answer surprised her. “But what about the stories
about the ghost in your boarding school?”

He shrugged. “I never saw her and honestly, I never really knew
if my buddy was just messing with me. Keenan is a bit of a prankster so you
never know if half of the stories he tells are eighty-percent bullshit.” He
realized he must’ve disappointed her with his answer and tried to amend his
view. “Listen, I’m open to be amazed, scared or shaken to my core...it just
hasn’t happened yet so I’ve had no reason to change my viewpoint.”

“Do you believe in God?”

“Whoa. This conversation just got deep. I thought we were going
to paint?” he said, half joking. He hated conversations about religion or
politics and since he couldn’t escape the politics he sure as hell made sure he
avoided all topics of religion. He bent to rummage through his pack, drawing out
his supplies. “So, Miss Bell, where should we start? Watercolors? Seems less
messy than the oils.”

She didn’t answer, but cocked her head slightly to the side as
if listening to an internal voice that bared all his secrets. Of course, that
made him nervous. “Why are you really here in St. John?” she asked. “It’s not to
paint and it certainly must not be all about chasing pretty bikini-clad girls,
because you’ve pretty much focused your attention on me and while that’s really
flattering, I don’t think it’s very good game, if you know what I mean.”

He laughed and surprised her with a kiss on her cheek. She
startled but a slow smile warmed her lips. “What was that for?”

“Because when I’m around you that’s all I want to do.”

She laughed, thrilling at his words. His eyes danced with light
and the desire that surely mirrored her own. She leaned in, wrapping her arms
around his neck. “What a coincidence. That’s exactly what I want to do, too,”
she murmured before descending on his mouth.

Their tongues tangled in a slow, sensual exploration that set
her nerve endings on fire and she completely lost sight of the fact that they
weren’t alone. Frankly, she didn’t care. In Justin’s embrace she found solace,
happiness and the simple pleasure of being with someone who felt the same way
and she was greedy for more.

The voice of reason, harping to the point of bitterness, faded
to a whimper under the sensual onslaught of Justin’s kiss. If there was a better
kisser in all of the world, Lilah wouldn’t believe it. Her mind emptied and her
body cleaved to his, molding to his every curve and solid strength in his sinewy
frame. Her hands itched to roam and touch; her core began to heat. “I don’t want
to teach you to paint,” she said, breaking away breathlessly. “I don’t want to
do anything but feel your naked body against mine.”

“Then what the hell are we doing sightseeing?” he asked,
equally out of breath, his eyes hot and bright. “Let’s blow this popsicle
stand.”

She didn’t want to go to Larimar—her sisters wouldn’t leave
them alone long enough to get their clothes off—but she did know of a place that
was private and most certainly, vacant.

“Grab your stuff,” she said, and walked hurriedly to the Jeep.
“I know where we can go.”

“Hot damn, I’m right behind you,” he said, a grin in his voice.
“I probably would’ve sucked at painting anyway.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

L
INDY
HATED
CONFLICT
, which was surprising seeing as she used to
cause so much of it back in her wilder days.

But now that she was all
responsible
and
mature
she suddenly
understood the appeal of stability and calm situations.

And she knew without a doubt that when Lindy told Lora what
she’d found out about Justin Cales, there’d be no hope for any calm and peaceful
conflict resolution.

She groaned just as Gabe and Carys entered the bungalow.

“What’s wrong?” Gabe asked, taking time to playfully rustle
Carys’s wet head before she bounded from the room to shower the salt water from
her skin. “Hey, don’t use all the water, either, Carys. Five minutes, tops!” he
called out, both of them knowing the little imp would ignore him.

Lindy exhaled loudly. “I hate being the bearer of bad news and
that’s exactly the position I’m going to be put in when I tell Lora what I found
out about Justin Cales.”

“Who is Justin Cales?” Gabe asked, perplexed. “Is he that kid
Lilah is hanging out with?”

“He’s no kid, he’s a grown man,” Lindy answered, pushing Gabe
away playfully when he leaned in for a kiss. “And he’s the son of New York
Senator Vernon Cales.”

“And this is...bad?” Gabe guessed but remained confused.

“Yeah, because Justin Cales has a bit of a reputation if you
know what I mean. I did a Google search and look what I found.” She slid the
laptop over to Gabe so he could get a good look. It was an online gossip rag
with Justin’s face nestled squarely between a woman’s very large breasts and it
didn’t look as if he’d been pushed. In fact, it looked as if he was quite
content to remain squashed between the woman’s ta-tas for the rest of his life.
“And that’s not all,” she said. “This picture prompted me to make a few calls to
my east coast friends and they confirmed that Justin Cales is a notorious rich
kid bad boy with an endless trust fund and a shortage of morals. He is the last
kind of person Lilah needs to be hanging out with when she’s in such a fragile
state. Damn it,” she ended with a mutter, mostly to herself. “Now we have to be
the wet blankets and point this out to Lilah and trust me, that’s going to go
over like a proverbial turd in a punchbowl.”

“That’s disgusting,” Carys yelled from the bathroom.

“Thin walls,” Lindy said, sighing. “Sorry!” she called out.
“But you shouldn’t be eavesdropping.”

Carys poked her head out, a towel wrapped around her body. “How
else am I supposed to learn what the heck is going on?”

“You have a promising career in espionage, now go get in the
shower before you lose out and your dad and I get in.”

“Ew.” Carys wrinkled her nose and disappeared behind the
door.

Lindy chuckled. That kid was a handful but the coolest. Now
back to the issue at hand. “How am I supposed to break this news to Lilah?” she
said, lowering her voice this time. “I mean, don’t you think we have a
responsibility to tell her?”

Gabe looked as unhappy about the information as Lindy felt.
“Yes, but like you said, the news isn’t going to go over well. Here’s something,
though, and I know I’m going to be the unpopular vote here...Lilah isn’t a
child. She made choices of her own free will. And even though she wasn’t
mentally stable at the time, she’s different now. Before she got sick, did you
ever worry about who she was dating?”

“No. Lilah could handle herself just fine,” Lindy answered,
mulling over Gabe’s point. “But that’s just it...she’s not the same as she was.
And Lora said she’s still fragile. I’d hate to blow off Lora’s concern and
realize she was right. You know? The stakes are just too high.”

Gabe pulled her into his arms and she cuddled into him. “You’re
right. But at some point we have to start putting our faith back into Lilah and
trust that she’s well enough to handle life. She doesn’t want a bunch of
babysitters for the rest of her life.”

“God, that’s an awful thought,” Lindy murmured against the
solid strength of his chest. She inhaled the sharp, citrus scent of his favorite
cologne and for a moment simply enjoyed the feeling of being safe and secure.
Her contentment at being snuggled against the man she loved faded as her
thoughts turned to the growing problems facing her family. “You know Pops is
getting worse by the day. We have to figure out how to keep him safe without
compromising the future of Larimar. The other day Heath found him in the shop
trying to fire up the welding torch but he’d forgotten how to turn it on—thank
God—but that could’ve been bad.” She exhaled deeply and groaned. “I hate
dementia. My Pops is disappearing.”

Gabe drew a deep breath but otherwise remained silent. She knew
there was little he could say that would ease the pain in her heart over Pops
but she appreciated his quiet support. She glanced up. “Why are you so amazing?”
she asked.

“Because I have to be to be worthy of you.”

She smiled and rose on her toes to kiss him soundly on the
lips. “Keep making comments like that and I will be forced to drag you to the
bedroom.”

Gabe shocked her by scooping her into his arms with a devilish
grin. “You won’t have to drag me. I’ll always go willingly.”

She blushed and curled her hand around the back of his neck and
murmured, “Let’s stop wasting time. Carys will be out of the shower in five
minutes.”

They disappeared behind the bedroom door and for a short
interlude, Lindy blissfully forgot about the unfortunate news awaiting her twin
sister.

* * *

L
ILAH
SLIPPED
THE
KEY
into the lock and
pushed the door open of Heath’s childhood home and walked in.

The small cottage had been completely rebuilt from the shack
it’d been when Heath was growing up, and now it was a gem with hardwood floors
and an open floor plan that was pretty enough to land on the pages of some Bay
Area magazine featuring small homes with big appeal.

“Nice,” observed Justin. “And where are we?”

“My soon-to-be brother-in-law Heath’s place but since he lives
at Larimar now with my sister, it pretty much sits empty. I come here sometimes
to paint and Heath doesn’t mind. However, I’m more interested in the bedroom
than the veranda at the moment,” she said, pulling Justin toward the master
bedroom.

“Lead the way,” Justin said, grinning.

They laughed and tumbled to the bed, sending pillows bouncing
to the floor. Lilah heard a muffled rip as Justin caught her sarong.

“Oops,” he said, looking chagrined as she wiggled free of the
thin material.

She met his mouth with voracious hunger, pushing his shirt from
his shoulders. “It’s cheap. I can buy a new one,” she said against his mouth.
“Clothes. Off. Now.”

He helped her pull his shirt free, followed by his shorts. His
erection bobbed free and Lilah didn’t hesitate to curl her hands around his warm
length. He sucked in a tight breath and groaned as she palmed him without
reservation and inhibition. With Justin she felt free, not locked away inside
herself, watching the world from the sidelines as it passed her by. A ravenous
hunger raged in her and her touch became more insistent, more demanding. “I want
to feel you inside me,” she said, arching as Justin slipped her nipple into his
mouth and sucked the pebbled tip, teasing the sensitive skin until she writhed
beneath him.

His touch was something she craved, needed like air, and she
refused to give up even though she should.

Justin’s touch became fevered, desperate and she understood his
urgency because it rode her nearly as hard. Within moments she was urging him to
push himself deep inside her, plunging into that hot core so she could lose
herself in the feel of being taken and devoured by the man she couldn’t get
enough of.

“Your skin is like smooth honey,” he murmured against her
rounded shoulder, pausing to nip at the soft skin. “I could touch you a thousand
times and never tire of it.”

“Sweet talker,” she gasped as he entered her. She wasted no
time in wrapping her legs around his torso, pulling him closer, burying him
deeper. A low moan escaped her mouth as he pumped into her, grinding against her
pubic bone until she shuddered at the carnal pressure. “Yesss, Justin, yesss!”
she cried out, clutching at his back as he moved above her. Justin’s face was
screwed into an intense expression as he tried to hold back but she clenched her
internal muscles and his eyes popped open as they both hurtled toward a
bone-melting orgasm that had each gasping for breath, chests heaving as they
tried to find their senses again.

It was a long-drawn-out moment before either could speak. The
sound of their breathing filled the room as sweat covered their bodies from the
oppressive humidity that the languidly twirling ceiling fan couldn’t hope to
abate. Lilah’s nipples, still hardened to tiny points, tingled as the last rush
of sensation from her orgasm slowly receded. She languidly turned her head to
regard Justin who was still breathing as if he’d run a marathon and looked dazed
by what had just happened between them. He met her gaze and a slow, cocky grin
teased the corners of his mouth as he said, “You know I’m totally going to want
to do that again and again and again. We might be here all night.”

She giggled and rolled to her stomach. “I don’t have any
plans,” she said, but added coyly, “Do you think you can handle me all
night?”

Justin rolled to his knees and quickly straddled her, bending
to nuzzle her ear. The soft touch of his mouth moving along the sensitive shell,
as well as the weight of his still-hard member dragging against her backside,
made her shudder with want and need. “Darling, stamina has never been my
problem,” he whispered. “By the end of the evening, you’ll be ruined for any
other man.”

She sucked in a tight breath. Oh, baby, she bit back the words,
he’d already done that.

But that was something he didn’t need to know.

Lilah laughed softly as Justin’s mouth traveled the ridge of
her spine. “We’ll see,” she teased, casting him a daring look, “if you can
rise
to the occasion.”

His grin deepened. “Challenge accepted, sweet island girl.
Challenge accepted!”