Escape to Paradise. Pamela Yaye

Escape to Paradise - Pamela Yaye


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isn’t ready yet but hang tight.

       What was that supposed to mean? If there was an issue with the room, she wanted to hear about it. Now. Before the plane took off. Lynchburg was a far cry from staying at a luxury resort in Cabo San Lucas, but it was better than nothing.

       “Ma’am, did you hear me?”

       Claudia held up a finger. “I’ll just be a minute. I need to call my sister.”

       “I’m not going to ask you again.”

       Stunned by the flight attendant’s rudeness, she cranked her head toward her, wondering how a woman with dimples could be so evil. “It’s an emergency.”

       Glaring at her as if she’d been caught coloring on the cabin walls with permanent marker, the bony redhead stuck a hand to her size zero waist and tapped her high heel impatiently on the floor. “This is nonnegotiable. Everyone has to adhere to the safety policies in place, including you.”

      What is this? “Dump on Claudia” Day? She wanted to cry—to release all the pent-up emotion she’d been holding inside—but after spending six miserable hours at the Dulles International Airport she didn’t have the strength crying required.

       Summoning a smile, she eased forward in her seat and struck down all thoughts of yanking the attendant’s frizzy hair. “I’ve just discovered that—”

       “If you don’t put your cell phone away right this minute I’m going to call airport security and have you escorted off this flight.” She talked with her hands, flapping them around like an inebriated traffic cop. “Now, what’s it going to be?”

       Realizing she was fighting a losing battle, Claudia closed her phone and stuffed it into her pocket. “I don’t understand what the problem is. Passengers are still boarding the plane and the pilot announced that takeoff wouldn’t be for several more minutes.”

       “New rules. Take it up with the airline.”

       Claudia wanted to smack the smirk off the stewardess’s face, but instead she grabbed the trashy tabloid magazine from the pocket in front of her. Things could be worse, she decided, scanning the salacious headlines. At least I’m not stuck in Richmond.

       A leggy flight attendant sidled up to Ms. Bossy Pants.

       “I got one more in first class,” she whispered, fanning her face with her hands. “And he’s so friggin’ sexy I could lick him all over!”

       Seated behind the curtain that separated the two cabins, Claudia had a clear view into first class and spotted the new arrival the moment he stepped onto the plane. It was…Santiago. The guy who’d bought her lunch. Claudia prayed she’d go unnoticed in her cheap economy-class seat. No such luck. His gaze zeroed in on her, and a searing, blistering heat spread from her ears to her toes. He sure is easy on the eyes, she thought, feeling a rush of desire. He had the classic facial features of a model, a cluster of jet-black curls, and a chest her hands were desperate to kiss and caress. Great, now I sound like that horny flight attendant.

       Santiago flashed a thousand-watt smile, one intended to make her drool. And she did. All over her scoop-neck shirt. He waved as if they were dear old friends, and like a fool, she waved, too. Claudia pushed a hand through her hair and swept her bangs up off her face. She was attracted to him, but that didn’t mean she was interested in making a love connection. Chemistry was overrated. So was confidence, charisma and all of the other qualities he possessed. Forget sexual attraction, fiery French kisses and earth-shattering sex. That stuff was for Hollywood. In the real world, love didn’t last and desire waned faster than quick-drying paint.

       Sliding the magazine down past her nose, she combed her eyes over his lean frame. Claudia felt an instant connection to him, something she’d never experienced, and the more she stared at him, the higher her temperature rose. He had a handsome face, a perfect body and a voice dripping with sensuality. Too bad she wasn’t impressed. She’d met dozens of men like him before and had been disappointed by each and every one. From now on she was only dating regular guys, blue-collar workers who understood the value of a dollar earned and spent responsibly. And she was staying the hell away from that Holy Bible thumper sitting in first class. What was it he’d said? Some mumbo jumbo about God being there in times of need. I bet he believes in the tooth fairy, too! she thought, smirking. Her life had been full of setbacks, one after another, and she’d experienced heartbreak at every turn. No, God definitely didn’t care about her. If he did, he wouldn’t allow bad things to keep happening to her.

       Her gaze slid from Santiago to Ms. Bossy Pants, and when the redhead disappeared into the gallery, Claudia sprung into action. Tossing the magazine aside, she opened her cell phone, punched in her sister’s number, and waited impatiently for the call to connect. “Pick up, pick up,” she chanted, crouching down in her seat. “Come on, dammit. Pick up.”

       “Hello?”

       Claudia exhaled. “Max, it’s me. What’s wrong with the suite?”

       “Hey, girl. What’s up? Are you still stuck in Washington?”

       “I don’t have time to chitchat. Tell me what’s going on.”

       “One of Royce’s old college buddies is staying in the suite.”

       Her spirits plummeted, fell so fast she felt dizzy. “Why didn’t you check with Royce before you offered it to me?”

       “It’s not my fault,” Maxine argued. “He never said a word to me about Dimitri being there until I mentioned that you were headed to Cabo.”

       “When’s this guy leaving?”

       “In a couple days. He’ll probably be gone before you get there, but I wanted to give you a heads-up just in case.” Her voice brightened. “Everything’ll be fine. Don’t sweat it.”

       “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who could end up out on the street.”

       “And neither will you. The suite has two master bedrooms, an enormous living room and more than enough space for the both of you.”

       Shaking her head, Claudia decided her sister was even crazier than she thought. “Forget it, Max. I’m not going to stay in the suite with a perfect stranger.”

       “He doesn’t have to be…” Max giggled. “Dimitri’s tall, supercute, and built like a Ram truck. What more could you want in a sex buddy?”

       “I’m not interested.”

       “Milk’s not the only thing that does a body good. Hot sex does wonders, too!”

       “Now I know how you managed to get knocked up on your second date.”

       “Don’t hate, congratulate!” Her voice turned serious. “There have been some new developments in William’s case that I thought you should know about. He was deemed a flight risk by the judge this afternoon in court, and was denied bail.”

       “Good. I hope he never gets out.”

       “The feds confiscated his computers, but they haven’t uncovered anything incriminating yet.”

       Hearing a noise at the rear of the plane, Claudia twisted around in her seat. Fear surged through her, causing her heartbeat to thunder in her ears. The flight attendant from hell was stomping toward her, gaining on her with each step. “I have to go! She’s coming!”

       “Who—”

      Click.

       Claudia tossed her cell phone into her purse, snatched the blanket off the vacant seat beside her, and dragged it up to her chin. Scared the flight attendant would make good on her earlier threat, she closed her eyes and started to snore.

       The lights dimmed and a hush fell over the cabin.

       “Excuse me, miss. Can you hold this open for me?”

       Opening one eye, Claudia watched as Santiago slid in front of Ms. Bossy Pants.


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