Escape to Paradise. Pamela Yaye

Escape to Paradise - Pamela Yaye


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swallow.

       “I’m Santiago.”

       “Good for you.”

       “I brought lunch.” He held up a clear plastic bag. “I hope soup, sandwiches and chocolate brownies are okay.”

       “Do I know you?”

       “Not yet. I’ve been here for hours, and if I keep playing solitaire on my iPhone I’ll go crazy,” he confessed, sporting a grin that revealed straight, white teeth. “To pass the time I thought we could talk.”

       Claudia rolled her eyes. What was the matter with these guys? This was the fifth one to hit on her since she’d arrived at the lounge. Only this man in the tan sports coat, white button-down shirt and dark slacks was dreamy. Gorgeous, actually. A Hollywood casting director’s dream client. He had a full head of short, wavy black hair, grayish-brown eyes that twinkled with mirth and a smile as blinding as a solar eclipse. Over six feet of lean, muscular man and not a gold tooth in sight. Certainly a step up from the gangster who’d swaggered over earlier. “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but I’m just not interested. I don’t want to get to know you better or hook up the next time I’m in town, either. I just want to be left alone. Got it?”

       “We’ll have lunch together, and then I’ll be on my way.”

       “I’m not hungry.” As the lie fell off her lips, her stomach erupted in protest, howling louder than a band of coyotes. If she didn’t eat soon, lounge security would be peeling her up off the floor, and the last thing Claudia wanted was more public humiliation. She was starving, but she didn’t want to break bread with this immaculately groomed pretty boy with polished shoes. “I don’t have much of an appetite.”

       Another howl, but this one was accompanied by a sharp hunger pang.

       “You’re not going to let a nice guy like me eat all alone, are you?”

       Coughing to disguise the rumblings in her belly, she opened her wallet and fished out a twenty-dollar bill. “Fine, but I insist on paying you for the food. Will this cover it?”

       “Miss, please put away your money. Buying you lunch is my pleasure.”

       Before Claudia knew what was happening, he sat down and rested the plastic bag on the table between them. A savory aroma filled the air. Growing hungrier with each passing second, she licked the dryness from her lips and accepted the container he graciously offered.

       “When I flew in this morning the skies were clear and blue, but now the rain is giving the city a beating,” he said, settling comfortably in the chair beside her. “I hope the weather advisory lifts soon. This is a nice lounge, but I don’t want to sleep here!”

       He chuckled, but Claudia didn’t join in his laughter. She concentrated on eating her minestrone soup. Spooning baby carrots into her mouth, she pretended not to notice him watching her. His eyes were laser beams, piercing her flesh and heightening her fear. Something about him was gnawing at her. It was…his cologne. “Are you wearing Circa 1840?”

       His eyebrows fused together. “Wow, you really know your colognes.”

       “My ex wore it for years. It’s a nice fragrance, but I think it’s way too expensive.”

       “Do you think there’s something wrong with people enjoying the fruits of their wealth?”

       “Not if it’s earned by honest means, but most millionaires make it rich by exploiting others.” Claudia paused, thought a moment and said, “The cost of one bottle could feed a hundred people in my city Thanksgiving dinner, and I think providing the basic necessities of life is far more important than smelling good.”

       He didn’t respond, just nodded and leaned back in his seat.

       “I’m sorry,” she said, with a small shrug of her shoulders. “I didn’t mean to lay a guilt trip on you. What you choose to do with your money is none of my business.”

       “No harm done. We’re just talking, right?”

       Still hungry, she reached into the bag and unwrapped one of the sandwiches. She took a bite and sighed in contentment. Claudia didn’t bother to hide her pleasure. Loaded with vegetables and barbeque sauce, the sandwich was delicious and tasted even better than it looked.

       “Now that we’re friends, I think it’s only fair that you tell me your name.”

       To buy herself some time, she picked up the hot chocolate and tasted it. This Santiago guy isn’t half bad, she thought, as the hot, creamy liquid warmed her body. He was generous, outgoing and seriously cute. Back in the day Claudia would have given him her number, but now she knew better. Knew that no matter how nice a guy seemed he was still just a man. Someone capable of breaking her heart, and killing her hopes and dreams.

       “I’m still waiting for that name…”

       “It’s Claudia.”

       “A lovely name for a lovely lady.” A smile pinched his cheeks, and a set of dimples emerged. “What part of Mexico are you going to?”

       “What makes you think I’m going to Mexico?”

       He pointed at her purse, and Claudia followed the route of his gaze. The travel book she’d purchased at the terminal’s bookstore was peeking out from behind her makeup case.

       “I was born and raised there, so if you have any questions just ask.”

       Claudia cleaned her mouth with a napkin. She wanted to tell him to get lost, wanted to send him on his way, but she didn’t. How could she when he’d brought her such a tasty lunch? They were stuck in the airport, marooned until the storm passed, so why not use the time chatting with this sexy Latino guy about Cabo San Lucas?

      Chapter 3

      Santiago cursed under his breath.

       The men sitting behind him were talking so loud he couldn’t hear what Claudia was saying. He thought of telling Beavis and Butthead to shut up, but he didn’t want her to think he was rude. Keeping his frustration in check was harder than riding a mechanical bull on quicksand, and when the pair erupted in boisterous laughter, drowning out Claudia’s melodious voice, he almost snatched them both up by the collar. How was he supposed to get to know the Southern beauty with these two clowns guffawing every five seconds?

       Glad she was finally starting to relax, he carefully studied her appearance. The short, bouncy hair, that shapely body clad in pink-trimmed workout gear. Claudia was the kind of woman his friend Chaz Romero would call a dime piece. Claudia wasn’t a nine or a ten, she was a twenty. He’d dated some in his life, and had even been in love a time or two, but he’d never been this drawn to a female, never been so enamored with anyone. “Does everything taste okay?” Santiago saw the deep frown on her face, and worried he’d bought the wrong thing. “I can run and grab you something else if you’d like.”

       “This sandwich is delicious, but I can’t believe it cost fifteen dollars,” she said, staring at the red price sticker on the wrapper. “That’s really expensive for a chicken-turkey club.”

       She spoke so softly, so quietly, it was impossible to hear her over the noise. Santiago leaned forward in his chair. Her accent was subtle, distinctly Southern, and rich with femininity.

       “If my sister hadn’t given me her Priority Pass I wouldn’t have even known this lounge existed. I can’t believe the daily rate is a hundred dollars. That’s highway robbery!”

       “You’re right, but it’s great having somewhere quiet to go to when the airport’s packed and you have an extended layover,” he said, inclining his head toward her. “And they make the best steak subs here. I’ve already had three!”

       His iPhone rang. Offering an apologetic smile, he slipped a hand into his shirt pocket and hit the End button. He’d bet it was the same woman who’d called an hour ago. The stick-thin cosmetics heiress his mother was trying


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