Dara Girard

Touch of Paradise


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an audience. It was then that she saw a miniature version of Aaron looking anxious beside him. The little boy looked up at Aaron, then her, then his gaze dropped to the ground. Rebecca immediately guessed the situation. Her monster was likely his pet. And it had escaped. Rebecca knew how they responded could really hurt Aaron’s image if other guests knew what she and Kelli had found.

      Rebecca bent down to the little boy’s level and said in a low voice, “You look worried, but you don’t have to be. It’s okay.”

      He lifted his gaze to hers, his big brown eyes hopeful. “You found Trident?”

      “I think so,” Rebecca whispered, aware that people were watching them closely. “But you’ll have to check.”

      Aaron shook his head. “I’m really so—”

      Rebecca straightened and screamed again, this time like a woman arriving at an airport and seeing a long-lost friend. “It’s so good to see you again,” she said, hugging the little boy, even though he looked at her, startled. “You’ve grown so tall!” She turned to Aaron and screamed like a fashionista seeing an outfit she adored, then hugged him, too. “It’s been ages, darling. Kiss, kiss.” She kissed his cheeks, then waved them inside. “Come in, come in.” She glanced at an older couple who watched them with a frown. She winked at them, then turned. Once they were all inside, she closed the door and pointed to the bed. “Trident is under there.”

      The little boy looked up at her, curious. “Why did you scream and hug us like that?”

      “Because I didn’t want people asking questions.”

      He giggled. “You acted really silly. Like one of Aunt Candace’s friends.”

      Aaron nudged him. “You shouldn’t be laughing. What should you be saying?”

      “Oh, yes. I’m sorry, miss.”

      Rebecca nodded. “You’re forgiven.”

      “Now go get Trident,” Aaron said.

      The little boy rushed forward and lifted the sheets. “Trident, you’re in big trouble.”

      “I’m very sorry about this,” Aaron said.

      “What is it?” Rebecca asked, once the boy had coaxed the creature from under the bed.

      “A giant iguana. He must have snuck in when they were cleaning your villa. The maids keep the door open to air the room,” Aaron said with a note of apology.

      “I understand how he got in, but how are you going to get him out of here without anyone noticing? I assume you don’t want anyone to know that Trident escaped.”

      Aaron ran a tired hand down his face, then looked around as if considering his options. “You’re right.” He looked at the little boy. “Didn’t I tell you to keep an eye on him?”

      “I’m really sorry, Dad.”

      Even though she’d guessed that the little boy was his, hearing him call Aaron Dad validated her assumption. Strangely, fatherhood looked good on him. Rebecca mentally shook her head. She didn’t care. She’d come to St. James to show him what a success she had become and what he’d lost. She would remain calm, collected and distant. “I have an idea, but you have to wait. First, I have to change.” Rebecca excused herself, grabbed some clothes from her closet, then disappeared into the bathroom.

      “Get a hold of yourself,” Rebecca mumbled to herself as she quickly changed. “It doesn’t matter that he’s still gorgeous or that he has a cute little boy. He doesn’t even remember you. The jerk.” She stared at her reflection. “You are going to help him this one time, and then you’re going to ignore him. You didn’t come here to fall for him all over again. Your career and this fashion show are all that matter.” She pointed at her image. “Are we clear?” She quickly massaged ointment in her hair and put on some lip gloss, then left the bathroom, ready to deal with the issue at hand.

      She told Aaron her idea. At first he was skeptical, but then he agreed. He called the maid service and requested they bring a large laundry trolley to the villa. When it arrived, Aaron set Trident inside, then Rebecca and the maid covered the iguana with several sheets and towels. “Now nobody will ever know I had a surprise visitor,” Rebecca said, pleased.

      Aaron looked at the maid. “You know what to do. Make it quick. He can’t be under there too long.”

      She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

      The little boy took Rebecca’s hand. “Come on.”

      Aaron grabbed his son’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”

      Brandon looked up at his father, affronted. “I’m going to show her where Trident lives.”

      “You have to ask permission first.”

      “Oh, right,” he said, looking contrite. “Dad, can I take her to show—”

      “No, you have to ask her permission.”

      The little boy turned to Rebecca. “Can I show you where Trident lives?”

      “I’m sorry,” Rebecca said. “But I have a lot to do today. Perhaps another time.”

      The little boy looked disappointed but nodded. “Okay. I’ll come back later.”

      “No,” Aaron said. “You’ll call and make sure she’s free.”

      “But, Dad—”

      “We’ll talk about this later. Go.”

      The little boy sighed, started to leave, then turned. “I didn’t tell you my name. I’m Brandon Wethers,” he said, holding out his hand.

      “I’m Rebecca Cromwell.”

      “Do you have any kids?”

      “No.”

      “Are you married?”

      Aaron nudged him toward the door. “That’s enough.”

      “My dad’s not married.”

      Aaron shoved him a little harder. “Get out of here.”

      “I’m just trying to help. Aunt Candace says women always want to know that about you.”

      Aaron held up his hand. “One more word, and I will get angry.”

      Brandon nodded, then waved. “Bye, Miss Rebecca.”

      Rebecca grinned. “Bye.”

      Brandon looked at her for a long moment, then tugged on his father’s shirt. Aaron bent down, and the boy whispered something in his ear.

      “No,” Aaron said.

      Brandon gripped his hands together. “Please.”

      “Go home.”

      Brandon made a face, then left.

      “Your son is a character,” Kelli said, walking up to Aaron. “But he had the right idea. You’ve already met Rebecca, but let me introduce myself. I’m Kelli Davis.” She held out her hand like a canary offering herself to a cat. The red highlights in her black hair caught the light, and she lowered and raised her eyes in a way that made her interest clear. She had taken the time, during all the commotion, to make sure she looked presentable.

      He shook her hand. “Aaron Wethers.”

      She grinned. “It’s nice to know we have something in common.”

      “And what’s that?”

      She winked. “I’m not married, either.”

      Aaron nodded, making no indication what he thought of her statement, and turned to Rebecca. “There’s no excuse for what just happened. Let me offer you a complimentary dinner and spa treatment at the VIP lounge.”

      “That’s