CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Hearing this may not lessen your pain, but I do know how you feel.” Rook handed me a cup of chamomile tea and then took the armchair next to the sofa in his living room. I had to give it to him; for a man who could make me shiver with fear when he entered a room, he had his bedside manner down pat.
With my legs stretched across the sofa, me still in my pajama shirt from last night, I brought the cup to my nose and inhaled the hay-like aroma.
“How would you know?” I muttered.
He rubbed his jaw, producing a bristly sound. “I lost my entire family, save one, when I was ten. Right here on this island.”
Jesus. How tragic. That might explain why he had a wall of thick ice around him.
I met his harsh gaze. “I’m truly sorry. That must’ve been horrifying.”
He nodded slowly. “It was.”
“What happened?” I hoped he didn’t mind my asking, but he’d brought it up for a reason. I assumed to commiserate. Or make me feel better because I’ve only lost one person.
His strong hand moved to the back of his neck, and he rubbed out a knot. “Some very bad people showed up and killed them.”
Oh God. “Why?”
He shook his head. “Why do most people commit such heinous acts? Greed.”
“What did they think they’d get?”
“Money. Gold. Who knows? Whatever the case, they did not find what they came for and left.” He drew a slow breath. “Right as a storm rolled in, actually. They say it was the biggest hurricane in recorded history to hit our island. Their ship sank less than a mile north of the shore. I watched it go down.”
“Wow,” I said, disturbed by his confession. The poor man.
“Yes, indeed. Wow. All that so they could sail away empty-handed and die.”
I grabbed a tissue from a box sitting on the intricately carved mahogany end table. I’d almost filled the entire wastepaper basket that he’d brought from his study and set beside me. “It doesn’t make sense.” I dabbed my eyes.
“Untimely deaths rarely do for those left behind.”
“So who raised you?” I asked.
“My aunt, a lovely Jamaican woman. Very smart, very superstitious, and extremely resourceful. I would not be the man I am today without her.”
I attempted to imagine this cold, intimidating, wealthy man who sat before me as a little boy trying to make sense of his world after losing his parents and family members. Strangely, I began to wonder if this was the reason I felt drawn to him. I’d lost my mother at an early age. No, it wasn’t what he’d gone through, but I understood what it meant to grow up with a hole in your heart that could never be filled.
I stared into those cool blue-grey eyes. “Now I get why you want to keep the island a secret.” He probably didn’t like strangers coming around uninvited.
“That is part of it, yes. But more than anything, I feel it is my duty to leave one small corner of this world untainted by greed. So call this island what you may, but it is the only place I know of where one can arrive broken and leave feeling whole again. If you are willing to open yourself up.”
“For a price,” I added.
“Yes, well, that cannot be helped. I am still subject to the laws of reality, and it requires resources to run things. A lot of resources.”
“Probably takes a lot to keep the government from coming in and making demands, too.” I didn’t know why I said that, because probing for more information at this point didn’t feel right. I wasn’t going to report what I’d learned to Warner Price. I couldn’t. Not after learning the truth about Cici. It had been an accident. And as sad as I felt, I had no reason to take revenge.
Oh fuck. I am in deep, deep shit. I’d taken Warner Price’s money and merely paying him back would not suffice. He’d made it damned clear that there’d be “hell to pay” if I didn’t deliver enough information to obtain Rook’s island.
Crap. I would have to come up with some sort of story, some reason to make Warner Price walk away and never ask about the island again. As for the money, I would have to at least offer to pay it back.
You really think that will appease him? Likely not, but what else could I do now?
I’m screwed. I blew out a breath. I’d rolled the dice, risking everything to come here and find the truth. I couldn’t complain or whine. Not when I’d known the stakes and accepted them. Now the only question was figuring out how not to end up in a dumpster with my throat slit once I returned home.
Home… My mind drifted back to Cici, her sweet oval face and those big brown eyes. I couldn’t accept that I’d never see her again or hear her laugh. How would I get by without her? What would I tell my poor father?
“Are you all right, Stephanie?”
I glanced at Rook, who sat comfortably in his armchair, studying me.
“I was thinking,” I said.
“Must be something terrifying.” He crossed his legs. “I can see it in your eyes. They are quite easy to read, in case you’re wondering.”
“I wasn’t aware.” I bobbed my head, staring down into my tea. “I was thinking about going home.”
“Ah, you refer to your parents,” he said.
“My mother died when I was little. There’s just my father now.”
“I am sorry to hear that. And what will you tell him?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. Honestly, what parent wants to hear that their child died like that?” Something so foolish, something that could’ve been avoided. It would feel like Cici had pissed everything away on a night of partying. That said, I doubted my father would even believe it. Cici was not the reckless type, but maybe that was why she’d gone for that swim. This place had a way of getting under your skin and then pushing you out of it.
“What was her fantasy?” I asked, wondering what my sister had really wanted out of this trip.
Rook looked down at the dark stained floor and speared his hands through his thick head of hair. “I do not feel it is right to tell you. We made a promise to her, as we make to all our guests, to protect their privacy.”
I wanted to protest, but I found his loyalty to her endearing.
“However,” he said, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together, “I will tell you this: she had a fear of death. I believe it consumed her at some level, and she did not wish to live like that anymore.”
My mind reeled and the tears began to trickle again. I couldn’t turn them off. “She feared death?”
“I never asked her, but a person in my position, who has seen many people come and go from the island, develops a keen sense of what delights them as well as haunts them.” He leaned back. “You have the same fear in your eyes—I recognized it the moment I saw you.”
“You think I’m afraid of dying?”
“No. Not of dying but of death—of it happening to those you care for, of the pain it would cause those you leave behind. The concern is always for the people you care about. You would do anything to protect them. You would do anything to keep them from suffering.”
He’s right. And not just a little right, but nail-on-the-head right. I’d had a big part of my life stolen from me at such an early age—my mother. And her death ended my father’s happiness and any hope of a normal childhood. So yes, I felt fiercely protective of what I had left. I wanted to keep it safe forever.
I cleared my throat. “You knew all that from looking at me?”
“Yes.” Rook smiled, but it didn’t touch those nearly translucent eyes. It was only meant to comfort me, and I appreciated the gesture. “Thus the reason for the shark dive. Not my best choice, but please know it was intended to help you confront your fear. Instead, however, you merely ended up igniting my own.”
“Sorry?”
“If you haven’t noticed, I too am fiercely protective—of those in my care. Otherwise, I would not be running this very unique resort.”
I sniffled and made a little chuckle. “I never thought I’d say this, but I get you. More than I’ve ever gotten anyone.” Even Cici.
In a way, Rook was like that flower he’d talked about. Only his petals weren’t soft or silky, and every time I peeled back a petal, I saw more of myself. We were alike in many ways, though I sensed his demons were bigger and more demanding than mine.
And they make me want to get closer.
I blew out a slow breath and pinched the bridge of my nose. Fuck. This can’t be a good idea.
Rook rose to his feet and walked over to the couch, standing in front of me. “I have had your things moved into my guest room. You can sleep, shower, do anything you like to make yourself comfortable. If you are hungry, simply pick up one of the phones and dial 0; they will bring anything you like.”
“You moved my stuff here?”
“I felt it best not to leave you alone given the recent events.”
Meaning I was off my rocker, sleepwalking, and hallucinating about monks with lanterns and my dead sister.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“As much as I would enjoy the day off, I still have an island to run. I will be down in the basement.”
“That’s not creepy,” I said.
“It’s not like that, I assure you. Much of this island’s infrastructure is underground—we are in hurricane alley, and I cannot afford to rebuild each year nor would we be operational.”
I didn’t want him to go. Ironically, this beautiful, ice-cold man felt like the only thing keeping me safe from my own dark thoughts. Losing Cici had been eating away at me for months and now, digesting the full breadth of my grief in one swallow, felt like too much. I needed to take the pain one bite at a time and try to figure out how to get past this. Because part of me knew this was all real, but the other part of me didn’t want to accept it. I wasn’t ready.
“Can I see?” I asked.
Rook looked at me like I was mad. “You’ve been through a terrible shock and need to rest.”
I glowered up at him. “You’re not my caretaker, Rook.”
“I disagree. You are in my home. You are my responsibility. But rest assured you are not missing a thing. I have paperwork to do, staff to speak with, and guests to attend to. We are shorthanded today.”
“Because you fired, Mrs. Day.”
“Yes.”
“Because she let me onto the island,” I said.
“Yes.”
“So you would not have allowed it.”
“No,” he confirmed.
“So you would’ve continued to let me stew in my own grief?”
“I suppose I would’ve made arrangements for some other means of compensation had I known you were attempting to come and register as a guest.”
“Compensation?” What the fuck?
“For expenses. For your sister’s fee. For—I am not sure. We have never had this happen before, but I was not about to stir up problems and invite them back here.”
“So…just deal with whatever issues came up. If they came up.” I shook my head disapprovingly.
“What else was I to do?”
Rook’s heartwarming compassion hadn’t lasted long. He was back to being callous and running his business. In his eyes, Cici’s death was unfortunate, but since he couldn’t do anything about it, why bother making it worse or bringing any problems down on his head.
Coldhearted bastard.
“I am sorry to be so blunt, Stephanie. It is not as though I am unsympathetic to this tragedy. However, I am not going to lie simply to spare your feelings. I am not built that way.”
And just like that, we were back where we started. Butting heads, suspicion—I couldn’t quite articulate the tension between us, but I knew mine had to do with conflicting emotions. I felt incredibly drawn to him, but I also knew I couldn’t trust a man who could be so unsympathetic when it came to anything interfering with his island.
“Well, I was built with a moral obligation to do the right thing.” I stood up. “So when can I leave?”
Starkness filled his eyes. “I will find out and let you know. The guest room is down that hallway. Last door on the left.”
“Well, while you’re busy with your precious resort, may I call my father?” He’d been off in the Middle East the last few weeks, due home at any moment. He probably hadn’t even realized I was gone.
Rook dipped his head. “You may use the house phone. Anything else, call on your island cell.”
“What’s your number?”
“6665.” He turned and left the room, disappearing down the long hallway opposite the direction of my room.
I snarled at the back of his head. One minute, he showed his human side, and it melted right through me. Then, within the blink of an eye, his walls went up and his asshole force field was in place. I couldn’t wait to leave.
As soon as he lets me. He would let me leave, wouldn’t he?