His Accidental Heir

“Sure thing.” Nancy lifted a tray full of drinks to take to another table. “Sometimes he hangs out in the break room if the Yankees are on the radio, you know. You might check if they play today.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She knew her brother liked listening to games on the radio. Being able to listen on his earbuds was always soothing for him.

Maresa hitched her knapsack with the insulated cooler onto her shoulder to carry out to the croquet area. The field didn’t officially open again until late afternoon when it cooled down, so no one minded if employees sat under the palm trees there for lunch. There were a handful of places like that on the private island—spots where guests didn’t venture that workers could enjoy. She needed a few minutes to collect herself. Come up with a plan for what she was going to do with a ten-week-old infant after work. And what she would tell Rafe about the baby since his counselor hadn’t yet returned her phone call.

Her phone vibrated just then as her sandals slapped along the smooth stone path dotted with exotic plantings on both sides. Her mother’s number filled the screen.

“Mom?” she answered quietly while passing behind the huge pool and cabanas that surrounded it. The area was busy with couples enjoying outdoor meals or having cocktails at the swim-up bar and families playing in the nearby surf. Seeing a mother share a bite of fresh pineapple with her little girl made Maresa’s breath catch. She’d once dreamed of being a mother to Jaden’s children until he betrayed her.

Now, she might be a single mother to her brother’s baby if Trina truly relinquished custody.

She scuttled deeper into the shade of some palms for her phone conversation, knowing she couldn’t blurt out Isla’s existence to her mom on the phone even though, in the days before her mother’s health had taken a downhill spiral, she might have been tempted to do just that.

“No need to worry.” Her mother’s breathing sounded labored. From stress? Or exertion? She tired so easily over the past few months. “I just wanted to let you know your brother came home.”

Maresa’s steps faltered. Stopped.

“Rafe is there? With you?” Panic tightened her shoulders and clenched her gut. She peered around the path to the croquet field, half hoping her brother would come strolling toward her anyhow, juggling some pilfered deck cushions for her to sit on for an impromptu picnic the way he did sometimes.

“He showed up about ten minutes ago. I would have called sooner, but he was upset and I had to calm him down. I guess the florist gave him a pager—”

“Oh no.” Already, Maresa could guess what had happened. “Those are really loud.” The devices vibrated and blinked, setting off obnoxious alarms that would startle anyone, let alone someone with nervous tendencies. The floral delivery must not have been prepared when Rafe arrived to pick it up, so they gave him the pager to let him know when it was ready.

“He got scared and dropped it, but I’m not sure where—” Her mother stopped speaking, and in the background, Maresa heard Rafe shouting “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know” in a frightened chorus.

Her gut knotted. How could she bring a ten-week-old into their home tonight, knowing how loud noises upset her brother?

“Tell him everything’s fine. I’ll find the pager.” Turning on her heel, she headed back toward the hotel. She thought the device turned itself off after a few minutes anyhow, but just in case it was still beeping, she’d rather find it before anyone else on staff. “I can probably retrace his steps since I sent him on those errands. I’ll deliver the flowers myself.”

“Honey, you’re taking on too much having him there with you. You don’t want to risk your job.”

And the alternative? They didn’t have one. Especially now with little Isla’s care to consider.

“My job will be fine,” she reassured her mother as she tugged open a door marked Employees Only that led to the staff room and corporate offices. She needed to sign Rafe out for the day before she did anything else.

Blinking against the loss of sunlight, Maresa felt the blast of air conditioning hit her skin, which had gone clammy with nervous sweat. She picked at the neckline of her thin silk camisole beneath her linen jacket.

“Ms. Delphine?” a familiar masculine voice called to her from the other end of the corridor.

Even before she turned, she knew who she would see. The tingling that tripped over her skin was an unsettling mix of anticipation and dread.

“Mom, I’ll call you back.” Disconnecting quickly, she dropped the phone in her purse and turned to see Cameron Holmes striding out of the hotel director’s office, her boss at his side.

“Mr. Holmes.” She forced a smile for both men, wondering why life was conspiring so hard against her today. What on earth would a guest be doing in the hotel director’s office if not to complain? Unless maybe he had something extremely valuable he wanted to place in the hotel safe personally.

Highly unorthodox, but that’s the only other reason she could think of to explain his presence here.

“Maresa.” Her hotel director nodded briefly at her before shaking hands with Cameron Holmes. “And sir, I appreciate you coming to me directly. I certainly understand the need for discretion.”

Aldo Ricci turned and re-entered his office, leaving Maresa with a racing heart in the presence of Cameron Holmes, who looked far more intimidating in a custom navy silk suit and a linen shirt open at the throat than he had in his board shorts this morning.

The level of appeal, however, seemed equal on both counts. She couldn’t forget his unexpected kindness on the beach no matter how demanding he’d been as a hotel guest.

“Just the woman I was hoping to see.” His even white teeth made a quick appearance in what passed for a smile. “Would you join me for a moment in the conference room?”

No.

Her brain filled in the answer even as her feet wisely followed where he led. She didn’t want to be alone with him anywhere. Not when she entertained completely inappropriate thoughts about him. She couldn’t let her attraction to a guest show.

Furthermore? She needed to sign her brother out of work, locate the pager he’d lost and deliver those flowers before the florist got annoyed and reported Rafe for not doing his job. Now was not the time for fantasizing about a wealthy guest who could afford to shape the world to his liking, even if he had the body of a professional surfer underneath that expensive suit.

As she crossed the threshold into the Carib Grand’s private conference room full of tall leather chairs around an antique table, Maresa realized she couldn’t do this. Not now.