Secret Billionaire's Stormy Lover (The Secret Billionaires 2)

Karen make her way to her room. She shut the door, put her back against it, and let her head fall against the wood. She touched her fingers to her lips and slowly slid to the floor. Her mouth still trembled from the electricity that had swept through her from that kiss. She couldn’t explain it, except no one had ever kissed her that way before. That guy was tempting her to throw away her sensible rules for a not very sensible fling.

Taking a deep breath she pulled herself up and decided that what she really needed was a few hours of sleep. The sun would be up soon and then she could see how much damage the hotel had taken. Peeling out of her wetsuit, she pulled on a light T-shirt and sweat pants. She lay on top of her covers, but her mind kept slipping back to Mike—to that kiss, to how good he smelled, to how strong he’d felt. She could use a pair of shoulders like his to lean on—trouble was, he wasn’t here to stay and she knew better than to hook up with guests. Even the kind who paid for their stay with work.

***

The quiet woke her. She blinked and stared up at the white ceiling. Somehow, she’d fallen asleep. She stretched, got up and changed into khaki shorts and one of her better short-sleeve shirts—her usual uniform for the hotel. Her room seemed warm and stuffy already—great, the air conditioning and electricity were still out.

She headed for the kitchen to put coffee on and start breakfast for the guests—at least she could feed them. Opening the back door, she glanced around.

Seneed’s minivan sat in the yard, a splash of yellow amid the torn up palm leaves and debris. She gave a wave. “Hey, Seneed. How’d your place survive?”

Tan, her dark hair a waterfall that fell down her back, Seneed grinned, her green eyes bright. “Bula, Karen. And not bad. Got a package for you. It looks like something your dad might have ordered. It’s the last delivery we’ll have from the ferry for a time. Jeff says it’s gonna take two weeks before they get it working again.” Seneed grinned. “Looks like we’re gonna get some beach time unless they fly stuff in. You gotta pen so you can sign?”

“Yeah. Hold on.” Karen made her way back inside and got a pen from the drawer. She should have known. Seneed never had a pen – ever.

Karen signed for the package and Seneed gave a nod. “Hey, I got another batch of fruit for you, too.” She hefted a box of guavas and mangos into Karen’s arms and put the package on top. “Enjoy your time off.”

“Vinka Vakelevu, Karen!” Seneed said, giving the traditional Fiji thanks. With a wave, she climbed back in her van and took off, throwing up dirt from the road.

Karen glanced around. The storm had mostly thrown up debris—kelp, battered wood, plants. It’d take a couple of days to clean up. The pool looked like it had taken the worst of it, with sand swept into it. And the roofs on some of the smaller guest huts were trashed. She let out a breath. Could have been worse. Much worse.

She was curious to see what was in the smaller package. Her heart gave a small twist to think this might be the last gift from him ever.

Leaving the fruit in the kitchen, she headed to her room and sat the box down on her bed. Opening it, she found a small white box, and inside that a gold locket. She cracked it open and her eyes filled with tears. The locket held a picture of her parents, standing next to each, posing for their wedding day. She knew the picture well—a large version sat on her office desk. She turned it over to read the inscription.

To the light in my life. You are what makes my world turn. Love Roger

Her eyes stung and she had to sniff back salty tears. She pressed the small locket to her heart. Her parents had had a love that you usually only found in movies. They’d lived their lives for each other. Her dad must have ordered this for her mom months and months ago—a custom-made gift. Given the difficulty getting anything shipped here, it had arrived too late.

Wiping her nose, she put the locket back into its box. She had no idea what she’d do with it. She doubted it was worth all that much, but if things got really bad she might have to end up selling everything.

Lyle had once promised she could repay him on her own time, but that promise had been as false as all of his others. Well, she was done wit

h guys like him—rich boys who thought the world was theirs for the taking. Tucking the box away, she headed back to the kitchen.

She saw Mike was up—and already at work outside, taking down the boards and pulling open the shutters. Karen busied herself with fresh fruit, rolls, butter and coffee for breakfast. She set everything out in the main room—guests could serve themselves whenever they wanted to eat.

Back in the kitchen she caught Mike stacking the boards. She thought it was unfair that anyone could look as good as him this early. With his dark hair rumpled and the coveralls outlining his chest, he looked more like he belonged here than she did.

She figured she might as well give him the bad news right away. “Ferry’s out—couple of weeks by the sound of it.” He straightened and stared at her. She brushed her hair back and then fidgeted with a button on her shirt. “Coffee?”

“Weeks? Did you say weeks?” His stare didn’t waver.

Karen moved to the stove and poured two cups of coffee. “Hope you take it black.” She pushed one cup at him.

He took it from her and stared at it, frowning. Looking up, he asked, “What about the phones? A computer? Something that would let me get some cash and a flight out of here. Please say you have some kind of civilization.”

Karen lifted one shoulder. “Hopefully we’ll get power back today. Don’t know about anything else. Depends on how bad the other islands got hit and what they need to get done to get things working.”

He huffed out a breath. “Mind if I at least look at your generator?”

She waved a hand at the back door. “Help yourself. But I’m pretty sure we need parts to fix it.”

Taking a deep breath, and muttering under his breath, he headed out the back door. She decided she needed to get him something to wear other than those ratty coveralls. She still had some shorts and shirts that Dad had ordered for what he’d hoped would be an expanded hotel staff. Heading to the storage room, she dug out something that looked like it might fit Mike and came back to the kitchen to leave it folded on the table for him.

Her guests were poking their noses out of their rooms, heading into the main room for coffee and rolls, talking to each other about the storm. With the sun out and the breeze a soft whisper, fragrant with flowers and salt air, you could almost imagine the tropical storm had never hit. Except for the torn-up palm trees and the mess that had been left on the white-sand beach. She’d have to go out later and patrol for any sea animals tossed onto the sand—hopefully there weren’t any. Just piles of kelp.

Stepping onto the porch, Karen glanced around. She needed to figure out what needed to be done first, but it seemed like everything was just overwhelming. There were times she just wanted to give up—but how could she do that when this hotel had meant so much to her folks? Dad had wanted to leave her a legacy, and he had.