Relapse In Paradise. Roxanne Smith

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СКАЧАТЬ Quinn texted him a photo of Emily with her severe business bun and the flat, no-nonsense expression. He’d like nothing better than to drop her at the Hilton and let her have her cookie-cutter vacation, but Hani was counting on him.

      It’d taken nearly every penny Quinn had paid him to replace The Canopy’s busted oven. If Boston was going to scrounge up bail money for this Ryder guy, he needed Emily. Somehow, he’d have to impress her enough to make her want to extend her stay so he could hit Quinn up for another advance. Gas wasn’t cheap on the island, either. He was taking a risk on this impromptu trip to North Shore.

      “I can be whatever you need,” he said in an effort to lighten her dour mood. “Papayas are plentiful on the island and an excellent source of vitamin C. Avocados are also abundant—”

      “Tell me more about North Shore.” Even the sigh that followed the demand sounded bored.

      That sealed it. Emily definitely wasn’t getting the number for his emergency phone. She’d be calling every five minutes to complain in that tired, blasé tone and end up costing him his job. “Or I could give you the deets on your accommodations.”

      That got her attention. She sat up from her slumped position and uncrossed her arms. “Great idea. Maybe we’ll be friends after all, Boston. You’re starting to figure me out.”

      He smirked. She didn’t know the half of it. By the time her vacation was over, he’d have her strutting around in a bikini with her hair loose around her shoulders, nary a sensible lady loafer in sight.

      Some people adapted quickly. Like Quinn and her husband, Jack. They’d danced to the beat of the tropics like they’d been born under a coconut frond. Someone with Emily’s particular hang-ups took a little more finesse and time.

      And a pinch of rough handling to get the gears moving. After all, you couldn’t surf a calm sea. “You ready for this? I’m taking you to a tree house. Isn’t that nuts? You’re gonna love it.”

      “Turn around.”

      He almost pulled over again for the sake of another look at her face. He kept driving instead and ignored her.

      “I’ve changed my mind. Turn around, take me to the Hilton. You’re clearly insane. Quinn, that…. Ugh. She waited three years to get payback, but she sure did choose her moment.”

      Payback, huh? Sounded like the sisters had some not-so-sisterly history between them. It didn’t surprise him. Oil and water, those two, and in more ways than one. “Calm down. Let me explain before you make any executive demands. I’m not talking about a wooden plank construct some Joe Nobody nailed to a tree.”

      “Funny, because that’s the precise image tree house tends to bring to mind.”

      “This one is special. It’s built up high on the side of a mountain. A stone staircase leads you up to an A-frame-style house with a wrap-around balcony on both levels. The view of the beach is outstanding. You’re practically chilling in the treetops. The house itself isn’t anything special. It’s maybe even a little rustic.”

      The breath rushing in and out through Emily’s nostrils made more sound than the air conditioner. “How rustic? Is there at least running water, or do I stand on the balcony and hope for rain?”

      The outburst both annoyed and amused him. Since he was used to clients like Emily, he gave in to amusement. Plus, he liked annoying her right back. It beat getting angry. “You’d probably have to walk down to the beach to get enough water for a good scrub down. The canopy’s too thick that high on the mountainside. I’d recommend the shower, personally. You do yoga? You look like you do yoga. That’s probably a better activity for the balcony. I don’t yoga, so I’d sit and have coffee, but whatever.”

      Emily appeared to turn speculative and chewed her lip while staring forward at the winding road. Traffic lightened as they turned north and away from the hectic motion of Honolulu’s morning commuters.

      “Sounds kind of nice.”

      Boston let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It wasn’t much, but from Emily it was as good as he’d likely get. “It is. Trust the seasoned guide.”

      “Not as nice as the Hilton,” she murmured.

      “Well, it’s not the Hilton, okay? Don’t worry, though. I’ll accept your gratitude, apology, and plea for another two weeks in my company when the time comes. No hard feelings. It’s not your fault you don’t know any better.”

      “You’re saying my ignorance gives me a free pass?”

      “Sure. Why not? I’m the thoughtful, forgiving type.”

      “Well, then, I suppose I’d better come clean now.”

      Money, Boston. You need the money. “Hit me.”

      “I lied at the airport. Your van definitely creeps me out.”

      Boston bit his lip to keep from groaning. It was going to be a long two weeks.

      * * * *

      “Wow.” Emily hadn’t meant to say it out loud but wow.

      The tree house, which she’d expected in spite of Boston’s warnings to resemble the botched plywood attempt in her childhood backyard, seemed like the majestic jungle abode of a lost Disney princess. Most of the house was hidden behind chaotic foliage, but she noted fantastic narrow windows that spanned both stories and created an unbroken view toward the ocean to the north. The view from the balcony had to be incredible.

      To find out, she had to survive thirty stone steps and a winding wooden staircase Boston had conveniently neglected to mention in his babbling about yoga. He’d probably been afraid to scare her off with the idea she might have to work to reach her enchanting miniature chateau. As if he knew her well enough to make the assumption.

      Emily skirted a bush bursting with skinny, bright pink flowers as she followed Boston higher and higher up the mountainside and into the canopy. The long tube-like petals reached out for her like pink alien fingers.

      It was one thing to gaze out a window at a world of green. Quite another when it wanted to get touchy-feely. California’s clusters of foliage generally came from the careful hand of a landscaper, or yards were left to their natural desert scrub, which made plain its desire to remain untouched with things like thorns and cactus spines.

      She gripped the strap of her purse with both hands and called after her guide. “You might’ve warned me about the chummy vegetation.” She scanned the strange pink flowers a final time. “It’s like they want to get to know me.”

      Boston didn’t slow his ascent or seem in any way burdened by her laden suitcase he lugged up the stairs behind him. “They probably sense how friendly you are.”

      Emily let that one go. “What about bugs? Spiders and snakes, that kind of stuff. Anything I should know?”

      “Lucky for you, Animal Planet trivia is part of my package deal.”

      Had it been anyone else, she’d have gone in for the kill. Instead, she let his “package deal” continue unfettered.

      “You see,” he said in a tone that would do a СКАЧАТЬ