Mistresses: The Consequences Of Desire: Beach Bar Baby / Walk on the Wild Side / Claiming His Own. Heidi Rice

       NINE

      ‘How was the trip?’ Coop reached in to grab her suitcase as Ella stepped out of the air-conditioned taxi into the sheltered carport rimmed by palm trees and flowering vines at the back of his property.

      She fanned her face with the wide-brimmed straw hat she’d bought at the airport as the afternoon heat enveloped her. Bermuda in April had been in the mid-seventies and pleasantly hot; in late July it was hitting the high eighties and seemed to be sucking the life-force right out of her tired limbs.

      ‘Good. Thank you.’ She huffed to stop her sweaty hair sticking to her forehead as Coop paid the driver and waved him off.

      The truth was it had been better than good, when she’d arrived at Gatwick Airport to discover the economy class ticket she’d insisted on purchasing herself, despite several terse emails from Coop before she left London, had been upgraded to first class. The added benefits of a three-course cordon bleu meal and a fold-down bed had made the eight-hour flight pass in a haze of anticipation. But now she was here, the impact of seeing him again was making the crows of doubt swoop like vultures in her stomach.

      ‘I appreciated the upgrade, but you really didn’t need to do that.’ She wanted to make it absolutely clear she did not expect him to bankroll her.

      Picking up her suitcase, he slung her carry-on bag under his arm. ‘Sure I did.’ His gaze skimmed down to her midriff before he sent her an assured grin. ‘No baby of mine travels coach.’

      The vultures in her stomach soared upward to flap around her heart and she stood like a dummy, stupidly touched by the reference to their child.

      ‘Come here.’ Resting his hand on her waist, he directed her towards the wooden steps that led out of the carport and into the back of the house. ‘Let’s get you out of this heat.’

      The stairs led to the wide veranda of a white, wood-framed house that rose from the grove of palms to stand on a rocky outcropping. She’d admired the modern, two-storey colonial structure as they wound down the drive from the main gate. Up close, the building was dominated by the large windows covered by louvred shutters. The house appeared cool and airy even before they stepped off the veranda into a palatial, high-ceilinged living area that opened onto a wraparound porch, which looked down onto the cove below.

      Dumping her bag and suitcase at the base of a curving staircase that led to the second level, Coop leaned against the balustrade and smiled. In a faded red and black Bermuda College T-shirt and ragged jeans, his bare feet bronze against the oak flooring, he looked more like the beach bum she remembered than the suited executive she’d found so intimidating in London.

      ‘So what do you think? Better than the hut, right?’

      She swung round to take in the view and give herself a moment to regain the power of speech. Expensive, luxury furnishings—including a couple of deep-seated leather sofas, a huge flatscreen TV, a bar framed in glass bricks and a walled fireplace—adorned the tidy, minimalist living area. She stepped through the open doors onto the deck, hoping that the sea breeze would cool the heat rising up her neck. And spotted the edge of an infinity pool, sparkling on the terrace below the house. Steps carved into the stone led down through the grove of palms and banana trees, probably to the beach at Half-Moon Cove.