An Innocent In Paradise. Kate Carlisle
right application of upper-body strength.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Grace said, eagerly grabbing a pen from his desk to make some notes in her pad. “That’s very good. So you agree, it’s a perfectly simple job once you get the dynamics hammered down.”
He shook his head and wondered when, exactly, he’d lost control of the conversation.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Sutherland.” She slipped her notepad into her waistband, then gave his arm an encouraging squeeze. “I promise you won’t be sorry.”
“It’s Logan,” he repeated. “And you’ve got one week to improve or you’re out.”
Two
She’d escaped banishment by the skin of her teeth.
Shivering slightly at the recollection of yesterday’s lecture from Mr. Sutherland, Grace continued folding and organizing her clothes in the sleek bureau drawer.
Despite the fact that she expected to be here at least a month, everything she’d brought barely filled two of the drawers. But, back in Minnesota, when she’d packed her suitcase, she’d figured she wouldn’t need much more than a few shirts and shorts to wear while searching for spores during her off-hours. And the hotel provided a uniform for its cocktail waitresses.
“Uniform.” She shook her head at the term. Serena, the lounge manager, had asked her size, then handed her two brightly patterned bikinis and a see-through scrap of cloth they laughingly called a skirt.
But Grace was desperate to stay, so she didn’t really mind wearing the outfit. And she didn’t mind carrying ten to fifteen pounds of drinks on her shoulders if it meant she could work and live in the hotel for a month while she collected her precious spores.
The fact that she only had a few days to prove she could carry those trays on her shoulders was something she didn’t want to contemplate too closely. Needless to say, she’d begun an intense upper-body workout that morning, knowing she needed more strength in her arms and shoulders.
Glancing around the luxurious hotel room with its elegant white wainscoting, coffered ceilings and wide-open view of the sparkling Caribbean waters, Grace allowed herself to revel in a moment of happy amazement. How in the world had she landed in such a beautiful place?
Of course the question was rhetorical, she thought with a smile, since she knew exactly how she’d arrived.
But it was remarkable that less than forty-eight hours ago, she’d been racing through the Minneapolis airport to make her flight. It had been difficult to run in her wool coat and thick sweater, heavy jeans, gloves and boots.
What a difference between then and now. Today she wore a bright pink tank top, thin linen shorts and sandals.
The frantic energy she’d felt two days ago on her way out of town was still coursing through her veins. Even though she recognized the source of the energy, it was disconcerting all the same. She’d always lived a quiet, well-ordered, disciplined life. Predictable. Safe. But now she was flying blind with absolutely no idea of what would happen next. Logan Sutherland had made it more than clear that she was here on borrowed time.
She was annoyed that none of her research on the Alleria Resort had uncovered the fact that the Sutherland brothers actually owned most of the island. That little fact had taken her by surprise and Logan had known it and used it to his advantage. She would have to stay alert to any other revelations if she found herself in his company again.
As she brushed her long hair back into a ponytail, she took careful note of the fact that her neck and shoulders were warming up at the very thought of Mr. Sutherland. No surprise there. Despite his threats and ultimatums, he was the most wickedly attractive man Grace had ever seen.
Not that she’d seen all that many attractive men in her lifetime. She would’ve remembered. Her mind was a steel trap, after all. But, no, gorgeous men like Logan Sutherland didn’t tend to hang around the university research laboratory much. More like, never.
She knew he’d expected her to cower when he’d issued his ultimatum. But Grace never cowered. She’d been challenged countless times in the past and had always risen to the occasion. Mr. Sutherland—Logan—had simply thrown down a different sort of gauntlet than she’d been faced with before.
No worries. Because what Logan hadn’t taken into consideration was that Grace Farrell was nothing if not a fighter. She relished obstacles; the higher level of difficulty, the better. To her, this was a new game to play, a new puzzle to be solved. She would learn the rules of the game using logic and reasoning, just as she’d done throughout her life. Then she would decipher the puzzle and win the game. To do otherwise was inconceivable.
She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was time to go to work. But as she glanced out the picture window at the stunning views, she wished for just a moment that she could stop all the clocks, take all the time in the world and just enjoy herself. She wanted to feel the sun on her back, walk barefoot in the white sand and frolic in the blue waters of Alleria Bay. She wanted to drink champagne and kiss a handsome man under the Caribbean moon.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” she admonished herself. Those kinds of thoughts were not only foolhardy, they were dangerous. The clock was ticking. Time was of the essence.
There was no place in her life for fun and frolic, never mind kissing. Her entire life, her research, everything she’d ever worked for, would go down the drain if she didn’t act quickly to staunch the damage already done.
She checked her kit bag to make sure she had everything she needed, then grabbed a towel from the bathroom and left the hotel room.
Crossing the bright, tropical-themed lobby, Grace stepped outside and felt the first rays of the warm sun on her skin. She adjusted her sunglasses and walked a dozen yards along the rows of swaying palm trees until she reached the edge of the white sand beach.
Now this was paradise.
She allowed herself thirty seconds to breathe in the spectacular view of the tropical island. Startlingly clear water stretched as far as the eye could see. Behind her, farther inland, were rolling green hills studded with more palm trees and lush vegetation. Sailboats bobbed at their moorings in the bay and sea birds flew overhead.
Her thirty seconds were up. Taking another deep breath, she hunkered down for the next forty minutes. Walking from palm tree to palm tree, she searched the base of each trunk where the roots divided, looking for a sign of the rare Allerian spores she’d come here to observe.
The sun was already warm at eight o’clock in the morning and she was glad she’d doused herself in sunblock. She should’ve brought a hat with her, too; but she’d been in such a hurry to pack and leave Minnesota that she hadn’t fully considered the effects of the tropical sun on her sensitive skin. At times like this, she was forced to admit she wasn’t quite as smart as everyone thought she was.
Another case in point, her awkward conversation with Logan Sutherland yesterday. She cringed inwardly, knowing that most of what he’d accused her of was true. Yes, she’d lied on her résumé, although that was for a good cause. But what she really hated admitting was that she’d foolishly underestimated the job of cocktail waitress. That wasn’t smart. She wouldn’t make that mistake again, especially after seeing firsthand how hard everyone in the bar worked.
“Just let that go,” she murmured. At least Logan had relented and allowed her to stay, thank goodness. She had a full week to redeem herself and she vowed to do just that, if only for the sake of the spores.
Now if she could only find the darling little critters.
A sailboat under full sail skimmed across the bay and Grace stopped to watch it. Everywhere she turned on this island, in any direction, she could find something new and wonderful and exotic to look at. She stretched and allowed the sunshine to permeate her skin. Had she ever felt this warm and cozy without the benefit of a down jacket?
She’d lived in Minnesota her entire life and