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If she didn’t know better—if she hadn’t seen him be rude and abrupt with perfectly nice hotel staffers—she would have guessed she caught him making silly faces at Isla. The little girl appeared thoroughly captivated.
“Here it is.” Jaden straightened, a piece of paper in his hand. “She left this for you along with some notes about the kid’s schedule.” He passed the papers to Cameron. “I’ve got to get going if I’m going to catch that ferry, Maresa. I only came out here because Trina gave me no choice, but I’ve got to get to work—”
“Seriously?” She had to work, too. But even as she was about to say as much, another voice in her head piped up. If Isla was really Rafe’s child, would she honestly want Jaden Torries in charge of the baby for another minute? The answer was a crystal clear absolutely not.
“Drop her off at social services if you don’t believe me.” Jaden shrugged. “I’ve got a rich old lady client paying a whole hell of a lot for me to paint her portrait at eight.” He checked his watch. “I’m outta here.”
And with that, her ex-fiancé walked away, his sandy-gold curls bouncing. Poppy barked again, clearly unimpressed.
Social services? Really?
“If only I had Poppy around three years ago when I got engaged to him,” she muttered darkly, hugging the baby tighter.
Cameron’s hand briefly found the small of her back as he watched the other man leave. He clutched the letter from Rafe’s former girlfriend—Isla’s mother.
“And yet you didn’t go through with the wedding. So you did just fine on your own.” Cameron glanced down at her, his hand lingering on her back for one heart-stopping moment before it drifted away again. “Want me to read the letter? Or would you like me to take Isla so you can do the honors?”
He held the paper out for her to decide.
She liked him better here—outside the hotel. He was less intimidating, for one thing.
For another? He was appealing to her in all the ways a man could. A dangerous feeling for her when she needed to be on her guard around him. He was a guest, for crying out loud. But she was out of her depth with this precious little girl in her arms and she didn’t know what she’d do if Cameron Holmes walked away from her right now. Having him there made her feel—if only for a moment—that she wasn’t totally alone.
“Actually, I’d be really grateful if you would read it.” She shook her head, tightening her hold on Isla. “I’m too nervous.”
Katrina—Trina—Blanchett had been Rafe’s girlfriend for about six months before the car accident. Maresa had never seen them together except for photos on social media of the two of them out playing on the beach or at the clubs. They’d seemed happy enough, but Rafe had told her on the phone it wasn’t serious. The night of the accident, in fact, the couple had gotten into an argument at a bar and Trina had stranded him there. Rafe had called their mother for a ride, something she’d been only too happy to provide even though it was late. She’d never had an MS attack while driving before.
Less than ten days after seeing Rafe in the hospital, Trina had told Maresa through tears that she couldn’t stand seeing him that way and it would be better for her to leave. At the time, Maresa had been too focused on Rafe’s prognosis to worry about his flighty girlfriend. If she’d taken more time to talk to the girl, might she have confided the pregnancy news that followed the breakup?
“Would you like to have a seat?” Cameron pointed toward a bench near the outdoor faucet where guests could rinse off their feet. “You look too pale.”
She nodded, certain she was pale. What was her mother going to say when she found out Rafe had a daughter? If he had a daughter. And Rafe? She couldn’t imagine how frustrated he would feel to have been left out of the whole experience. Then again, how frustrated would he feel knowing that he couldn’t care for his daughter the way he could have at one time?
Struggling to get her spinning thoughts under control, she allowed Cameron to guide her to the bench. Carefully, she lowered herself to sit with Isla, the baby blanket covering her lap since the kicking little girl had mostly freed herself of the swaddling. While she settled the baby, she noticed Cameron lift Poppy and towel her off a bit more before setting her down again. He double-checked the leash clip on her collar then took the seat beside Maresa.
“I’m ready,” she announced, needing to hear whatever Isla’s mother had to say.
Cameron unfolded the paper and read aloud. “‘Isla is Rafe’s daughter. I wasn’t with anyone else while we were together. I was afraid to tell him about her after the doctor said he’d be...’” Cameron hesitated for only a moment “‘...brain damaged. I know Rafe can’t take care of her, but his mother will love her, right? I can’t do this. I’m going to see my dad in Florida for a few weeks, but I’ll sign papers to give you custody. I’m sorry.”
Maresa listened to the silence following the words, her brain uncomprehending. How could the woman just take off and leave her baby—Rafe’s baby—with Jaden Torries while she traveled to Florida? Who did that? Trina wasn’t a kid—she was twenty-one when she’d dated Rafe. But she’d never had much family support, according to Rafe. Her mother was an alcoholic and her father had raised her, but he’d never paid her much attention.
A fierce surge of protectiveness swelled inside of Maresa. It was so strong she didn’t know where to put it all. But she knew for damn sure that she would protect little Isla—her niece—far better than the child’s mother had. And she would call a lawyer and find out how to file for full custody.
“You could order DNA testing,” Cameron observed, his impressive abs rippling as he leaned forward on the bench. “If you are concerned she’s not a biological relative.”
Maresa closed her eyes for a moment to banish all thoughts of male abs, no matter how much she welcomed the distraction from the monumental life shift taking place for her this morning.
“I’ll ask an attorney about it when I call to find out how I can secure legal custody.” She wrapped Isla’s foot back in a corner of the blanket. “For right now, I need to find suitable care for Isla before my shift at the Carib begins for the day.” Throat burning, Maresa realized she was near tears just thinking about the unfairness of it all. Not to her, of course, because she would make it work no matter what life threw at her.
But how unfair to Rafe, who wouldn’t be able to parent his child without massive amounts of help. Perhaps he wouldn’t be interested in parenting at all. Would he be angry? Would Trina’s surprise be the kind of thing that unsettled his confused mind and set back his recovery?
She would call his counselor before saying anything to him. That call would be right after she spoke to a lawyer. She wasn’t even ready to tell her mother yet. Analise Delphine’s health was fragile and stress could aggravate it. Maresa wanted to be sure she was calm before she spoke to her mother. They’d all been in the dark for months about Trina’s pregnancy. A few more hours wouldn’t matter one way or another.
“I noticed on the dog walker’s résumé that she has experience working in a day care.” Cameron folded the paper from Trina and inserted it into an exterior pocket of the diaper bag. “And as it happens, I already walked the dog. Would you like me to text her and ask her to meet you somewhere in the hotel to give you a hand?”
Maresa couldn’t imagine what that would cost. But what were her options since she didn’t want to upset her mother? She didn’t have time to return home and give the baby to her mother even if she was sure her mother could handle the shocking news.
“That would be a great help, thank you. The caregiver can meet me in the women’s locker room by the pool in twenty minutes.” Shooting to her feet, Maresa realized she’d imposed on Cameron Holmes’s kindness for far too long. “And with that, I’ll let you and Poppy get back to your morning walk.”
“I’ll go with you. I can carry the baby gear.” He reached for the pink diaper bag, but she beat him to it.
“I’m fine. I insist.” She pasted on her best concierge smile and tried not to think about how comforting it had felt to have him by her side this morning. Now more than ever, she needed job security, which meant she couldn’t let an important guest think she made a habit of bringing her personal life to work. “Enjoy your day, Mr. Holmes.”
* * *
Enjoying his day proved impossible with visions of Maresa Delphine’s pale face circling around Cameron’s head the rest of the morning. He worked at his laptop on the private terrace off his room, distracted as hell thinking about the beautiful, efficient concierge caught off guard by a surprise that would have damn near leveled anyone else.
She’d inherited her brother’s baby. A brother who, from the sounds of it, was not in any condition to care for his child himself.
Sunlight glinted off the sea and the sounds from the beach floated up to his balcony. The noises had grown throughout the morning from a few circling gulls to the handful of vacationing families that now populated the beach. The scent of coconut sunscreen and dense floral vegetation swirled on the breeze. But the temptation of a tropical paradise didn’t distract Cam from his work nearly as much as memories of his morning with Maresa.
Shocking encounter with the baby aside, he would still have been distracted just remembering her limber arched back, her beautiful curves outlined by the light of the rising sun when he’d first broken through the dense undergrowth to find her on the private beach. Her skimpy workout gear had skimmed her hips and breasts, still tantalizing the hell out of him when he was supposed to be researching the operations hierarchy of the Carib Grand on his laptop.
But then, all that misplaced attraction got funneled into protectiveness when he’d met her sketchy former fiancé. He’d met the type before—charming enough, but completely self-serving. The guy couldn’t have come up with a kinder way to inform her of her niece’s existence?
On the plus side, Cameron had located some search results about her brother. Rafe Delphine had worked at the hotel for one month in a hire that some might view as unethical given his relationship to Maresa. But his application—though light on work history—had been approved by the hotel director on-site, so the young man must be fit for the job despite his injury in a car wreck the year before. That, too, had been an easy internet search, with local news articles reporting the crash and a couple of updates on Rafe’s condition afterward. The trauma the guy had suffered must have been harrowing for his whole family. Clearly the girlfriend had found it too much to handle.
Now, as a runner for the concierge, Rafe would be directly under Maresa’s supervision. That concerned Cameron since Maresa would have every reason in the world to keep him employed. As much as Cam empathized with her situation—all the more now that she’d discovered her brother had an heir—he couldn’t afford to ignore good business practices. He’d have to speak to the hotel director about the situation and see if they should make a change.
The ex-fiancé was next on his list of searches. Not that he wanted to pry into Maresa’s private life. Cameron was more interested in seeing how the guy connected to the Carib Grand that he’d come all the way to the hotel’s private island to pass over the baby. That seemed like an unnecessary trip unless he was staying here or worked here. Why not just give the baby to Maresa at her home in Charlotte Amalie? Why come to her place of work when it was so far out of the way?
Cam had skimmed halfway through the short search results on Jaden Torries’s portraits of people and pets before his phone buzzed with an incoming call. Poppy, snoozing in the shade of the chair under his propped feet, didn’t even stir at the sound. The dog was definitely making up for lost rest from the day before.
Glimpsing his oldest brother’s private number, Cam hit the button to connect the call. “Talk to me.”
“Hello to you, too.” Quinn’s voice came through along with the sounds of Manhattan in the background—horns honking, brakes squealing, a shrill whistle and a few shouts above the hum of humanity indicating he must be on the street. “I wanted to give you a heads-up I just bought a sea plane.”
“Nice, bro, But there’s no way you’ll get clearance to land in the Hudson with that thing.” Cameron scrolled to a gallery of Torries’s work and was decidedly unimpressed.
Not that he was an expert. But as a supporter of the arts in Manhattan for all his adult life, he felt reasonably sure Maresa’s ex was a poser. Then again, maybe he just didn’t like a guy who’d once commanded the concierge’s attention.
“The aircraft isn’t for me,” Quinn informed him. “It’s for you. I figured it would be easier than a chopper to get from one island to another while you’re investigating the Carib Grand and checking out the relatives.”
Cam shoved aside his laptop and straightened. “Seriously? You bought a seaplane for my two-week stay?”
As a McNeill, he’d grown up with wealth, yes. He’d even expanded his holdings with the success of the gaming development company he’d started in college. But damn. He limited himself to spending within reason.
“The Carib Grand is the start of our Caribbean expansion, and if it goes well, we’ll be spending a lot of time and effort developing the McNeill brand in the islands and South America. We have a plane available in the Mediterranean. Why not keep something accessible on this side of the Atlantic?”
“Right.” Cam’s jaw flexed at the thought of how much was riding on smoothing things out at the Carib Grand. A poor bottom line wasn’t going to help the expansion program. “Good thinking.”
“Besides, I have the feeling we’ll be seeing our half brothers in Martinique a whole lot more now that Gramps is determined to bring them into the fold.” Quinn sounded as grim about that prospect as Cameron felt. “So the plane might be useful for all of us as we try to...contain the situation.”
Quinn wanted to keep their half siblings out of Manhattan and out of the family business as much as Cameron did. They’d worked too hard to hand over their company to people who’d never lifted a finger to grow McNeill Resorts.
“Ah.” Cam stood to stretch his legs, surprised to realize it was almost noon according to the slim dive watch he’d worn for his morning laps. “But since I’m on the front line meeting them, I’m going to leave it up to you or Ian to be the diplomatic peacemakers.”
Quinn only half smothered a laugh. “No one expected you of all people to be the diplomat. Dad’s still recovering from the punch you gave him last week when he dropped the I-have-another-family bombshell on us.”
Definitely not one of his finer moments. “It seemed like he could have broached the topic with some more tact.”
“No kidding. I kept waiting for Sofia to break the engagement after the latest family soap opera.” The background noise on Quinn’s call faded. “Look, Cam, I just arrived at Lincoln Center to take her out to lunch. I’ll text you the contact details for a local pilot.”
Cam grinned at the thought of his stodgy older brother so head over heels for his ballerina fiancée. The same ballerina fiancée Cam had impulsively proposed to last winter when a matchmaker set them up. But even if Cam and Sofia hadn’t worked out, the meeting had been a stroke of luck for Quinn, who’d promptly stepped in to woo the dancer.
“Thanks. And give our girl a kiss from me, okay?” It was too fun to resist needling Quinn. Especially since Cameron was two thousand miles away from a retaliatory beat-down.
A string of curses peppered his ear before Quinn growled, “It’s not too late to take the plane back.”
“Sorry.” Cameron wasn’t sorry. He was genuinely happy for his brother. “I’ll let you know if the faux McNeills are every bit as awful as we imagine.”
Disconnecting the call, Cameron texted a message to the dog groomer to give Poppy some primp time. He’d use that window of freedom to follow up on a few leads around the Carib Grand. He wanted to find out what the hotel director thought about Rafe Delphine, for one thing. The director was the only person on-site who knew Cameron’s true identity and mission at the hotel. Aldo Ricci had been successful at McNeill properties in the Mediterranean and Malcolm McNeill had personally appointed the guy to make the expansion program a success.
With the McNeill patriarch’s health so uncertain, Cameron wanted to respect his grandfather’s choices. All the more so since he still hadn’t married the way his granddad wanted.
Cameron would start by speaking to his grandfather’s personally chosen manager. Cam had a lot of questions about the day-to-day operations and a few key personnel. Most especially the hotel’s new concierge, who kept too many secrets behind her beautiful and efficient facade.
Three (#u66eae268-7cb3-589a-855d-b3663e7af183)
Seated in the hotel director’s office shortly after noon, Cameron listened to Aldo Ricci discuss his plans for making the Carib Grand more profitable over the next two quarters. Unlike Cameron, the celebrated hotel director with a crammed résumé of successes did not seem concerned about the dip in the Carib Grand’s performance.
“All perfectly normal,” the impeccably dressed director insisted, prowling around his lavish office on the ground floor of the property. A collector of investment-grade wines, Aldo incorporated a few rare vintages into his office decor. A Bordeaux from Moulin de La Lagune rested casually on a shelf beside some antique corkscrews and a framed invitation from a private tasting at Château Grand Corbin. “We are only beginning to notice the minute fluctuations now that our capacity for data is greater than ever. But those irregularities will not even be noticeable by the time we hit our performance and profit goals for the end of the year.”
The heavyset man tugged on his perfectly straight suit cuffs. The fanciness of the dark silk jacket he wore reminded Cameron how many times the guy had taken a property out of the red and into the ranks of the most prestigious places in the world. To have enticed him to McNeill Resorts had been a coup, according to Cameron’s grandfather.
“Nevertheless, I’d like to know more about Maresa Delphine.” Cameron didn’t reveal his reasons. He could see her now through the blinds in the director’s office. She strode along the pool patio outside, hurrying past the patrons in her creamy linen blazer with an orchid at the lapel. Her sun-splashed brown hair gleamed in the bright light, but something about her posture conveyed her tension. Worry.
Was she thinking about Isla?
He made a mental note to check on the sitter and be sure she was doing a good job with the baby. Little Isla had tugged at his heartstrings this morning with her tiny, restless hands and her expressive face. That feeling—the warmth for the baby—shocked him. Not that he was an ogre or anything, but he’d decided long ago not to have kids of his own.
He was too much like his father—impulsive, fun-loving, easily distracted—to be a parent. After all, Liam McNeill had turfed out responsibility for his sons at the first possible opportunity, letting the boys’ grandfather raise them the moment Liam’s Brazilian wife got tired of his globe-trotting, daredevil antics. Cameron had always known his father had shirked the biggest responsibility of his life and that, coupled with his own tendency to follow his own drummer, had been enough to convince Cam that kids weren’t for him. And that had been before discovering his dad had fathered a whole other set of kids with someone else.
Before an accident that had compromised Cameron’s ability to have a family anyhow.
“Maresa Delphine is a wonderful asset to the hotel,” the director assured him, coming around to the front of his desk to sit beside Cameron in the leather club chairs facing the windows. “If you seek answers about the hotel workings, I urge you to reveal your identity to her. I know you want to remain incognito, but I assure you, Ms. Delphine is as discreet and professional as they come.”
“Yet you’ve only known her for...what? Two months?”
“Far longer than that. She worked at another property in Saint Thomas where I supervised her three years ago. I personally recommended her to a five-star property in Paris because I was impressed with her work and she was eager to...escape her hometown for a while. I had no reservations about helping her win the spot. She makes her service her top priority.” The director crossed one leg over the other and pointed to a crystal decanter on the low game table between them. “Are you sure I can’t offer you anything to drink?”
“No. Thank you.” He wanted a clear head for deciding his next move with Maresa. Revealing himself to her was tempting considering the attraction simmering just beneath the surface. But he couldn’t forget about the gut instinct that told him she was hiding something. “What can you tell me about her brother?”
“Rafe is a fine young man. I would have gladly hired him even without Maresa’s assurances she would watch over him.”
“Why would she need to?” He was genuinely curious about the extent of Rafe’s condition. Not only because she seemed protective of him, but also because Maresa hadn’t argued Trina’s depiction of her brother as “brain damaged.”
“Rafe has a traumatic brain injury. He’s the reason Maresa gave up the job in Paris. She rushed home to take care of her family. The young man is much better now. Although he can become agitated or confused easily, he has good character, and we haven’t put him in a position where he will have much contact with guests.” Aldo smiled as he smoothed his tie. “Maresa feels a strong sense of responsibility for him. But I’ve seen no reason to regret hiring her sibling. She knows, however, that Rafe’s employment is on a trial basis.”
Aldo Ricci seemed like the kind of man to trust his gut, which might be fine for someone who’d been in the business for as long as he had, but Cameron still wondered if he was overlooking things.
Maybe he should confide in Maresa if only to discover her take on the staff at the Carib Grand. Specifically, he wondered, what was her impression of Aldo Ricci? Cameron found himself wanting to know a lot more about the operations of the hotel.
“Perhaps I will speak to Ms. Delphine.” Cameron wanted to find her now, in fact. His need to see her has been growing ever since she’d walked away from him early that morning. “I’d like some concrete answers about those performance reviews, even if they do seem like minute fluctuations.”
He rose from his seat, liking the new plan more than he should. Damn it. Spending more time with Maresa didn’t mean anything was going to happen between them. As her boss, of course, he had a responsibility to ensure it didn’t.
And, without question, she had a great deal on her mind today of all days. But maybe that was all the more reason to give her a break from the concierge stand. Perhaps she’d welcome a few hours away from the demands of the guests.
“Certainly.” The hotel director followed him to the door. “There’s no one more well-versed in the hotel except for me.” His grin revealed a mouth full of shiny white veneers. “Stick close to her.”
Cameron planned to do just that.
* * *
“Have you seen Rafe?” Maresa asked Nancy, the waitress who worked in the lobby bar shortly after noon. “I wanted to eat lunch with him.”
Standing beside Nancy, a tall blonde goddess of a woman who probably made more in tips each week than Maresa made in a month, she peered out over the smattering of guests enjoying cocktails and the view. Her brother was nowhere in sight.
She had checked on Isla a few moments ago, assuring herself the baby was fine. She’d shared Trina’s notes about the baby’s schedule with the caregiver, discovering Isla’s birth certificate with the father’s name left blank and a birth date of ten weeks prior. And after placing a call to Trina’s mother, Maresa had obtained contact information for the girl’s father in Florida, who’d been able to give her a number for Trina herself. The girl had tearfully confirmed everything she said in her note—promising to give custody of the child to Rafe’s family since she wasn’t ready to be a mother and she didn’t trust her own mother to be a good guardian.
The young woman had been so distraught, Maresa had felt sorry for her. All the more so because Trina had tried to handle motherhood alone when she’d been so conflicted about having a baby in the first place.
Now, Maresa wanted to see Rafe for herself to make sure he was okay. What if Jaden had mentioned Isla to him? Or even just mentioned Trina leaving town? Rafe hadn’t asked about his girlfriend since regaining consciousness. She suspected Rafe would have been walking onto the ferry that morning the same time as Jaden was walking off.
Earlier that day, she’d left him a to-do list when she’d had an appointment to keep with the on-site restaurant’s chef. She’d given Rafe only two chores, and they were both jobs he’d done before so she didn’t think he’d have any trouble. He had to pick up some supplies at the gift shop and deliver flowers to one of the guests’ rooms.
“I saw him about an hour ago.” Nancy rang out a customer’s check. “He brought me this.” She pointed to the tiny purple wildflowers stuffed behind the engraved silver pin with her name on it. “He really is the sweetest.”
“Thank you for being so kind to him.” Maresa had witnessed enough people be impatient and rude to him that he’d become her barometer for her measure of a person. People who were nice to Rafe earned her respect.
“Kind to him?” Nancy tossed her head back and laughed, her long ponytail swishing. “That boy should earn half my tips since it’s Rafe who makes me smile when I feel like strangling some of my more demanding customers—like that Mr. Holmes.” She straightened the purple blooms with one hand and shoved the cash drawer closed with her hip. “These flowers from your brother are the nicest flowers any man has ever given me.”
Reassured for the moment, Maresa felt her heart squeeze at the words. Her brother had the capacity for great love despite the frustrations of his injury. Maybe he’d come to accept his daughter as part of his life down the road.
Until then, she needed to keep them both safely employed and earning benefits to take care of their family.
“It makes me happy to hear you say that.” Maresa turned on her heel, leaving Nancy to her job. “If you see him, will you let him know I’m having lunch down by the croquet field?”
