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| "The Perfect Fantasy" |
| Wine and Roses |
February , 1999 A Valentine's Anthology from BET Books ISBN: 1-58314-003-4 |
 Though February is the month for Valentine's Day, it can also be a time of sweet surprises for those who aren't even looking for love. Delight in the joys of unexpected romance with these charming tales that promise delicious disaster, or the deepest of desires...
In Kayla Perrin's "The Perfect Fantasy," Nurse Michelle Carroll heads off to sun-drenched Jamaica to escape romance--and to escape memories of how she was jilted at the altar on Valentine's Day. Handsome, wealthy publishing executive Kevin Brooks is sure he can change her mind--and turn passionate fantasy into a lifetime of dreams come true. true.
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Prologue
"Seat Fourteen-A on the left hand side," the young, red-haired flight attendant said as she glanced at Michelle's boarding pass.
"Thanks." Michelle readjusted her shoulder bag and started down the plane's center aisle. The plane was a DC-9, a mid-sized plane with four seats to a row separated by an aisle. The seats were a bright royal blue with embroidered white flowers, matching the design and color on the thick carpet below. Michelle walked slowly, her eyes scanning the row numbers until she found her seat.
Her row was in the center of the plane, near the wing, as she had requested. She wasn't afraid of flying, but wanted to be as prepared as possible. A center wing seat was the safest spot on a plane, according to the experts. If there was such a thing when a plane was going down, she thought wryly.
A disaster was not what she wanted to think of as she prepared for her vacation. Surely the people around her weren't. Excited children kneeled on their seats, staring at and playing with passengers in the rows behind them. Couples sat quietly talking. Like her, a few other people appeared to be traveling alone.
Slipping into her seat on the plane, she was glad she didn't have a seat-mate yet and hoped she wouldn't. Right now, she didn't feel up to shallow conversation with a stranger. Placing her carry-on bag on the floor beneath her, she settled against the window. She peered outside. The weather was the exact opposite of what she hoped to find in Jamaica-cold and bleak. The sky was gray and the falling snow had turned into a light drizzle. It was the perfect day to fly to a Caribbean island and get away from this depressing scene. The warm weather and sandy beaches of Jamaica were enough to cure anybody's winter blues.
As she watched people continue to file into the plane, their excited faces told her they had the same thoughts as she did. Some had prepared early for their arrival in Jamaica by dressing in light slacks and T-shirts. They were braver than she; her winter coat was still buttoned to the top and would remain that way until the plane started and the heat warmed her.
Michelle fastened her seatbelt. When she casually glanced up, her eyes caught and held the head of a man near the front of the plane, clearly searching for his seat. An eyebrow arched involuntarily. He was, as her cousin Judith would say, a fine brother. Fine was an understatement, Michelle decided as he neared her. He was tall, with a square-shaped face and firm jaw. He wore only a black T-shirt, beneath which she could see his strong chest and arm muscles. His skin was a smooth, cocoa-brown complexion, and except for an attractive, neatly-trimmed goatee that framed his full lips, his face was clean-shaven.
Michelle knew she was staring. This was unusual behavior for her, but as Naomi would say, it certainly didn't hurt to look. And this man was certainly a treat to look at. Heck, he was sexy enough to be a model.
Michelle tore her gaze away from his handsome face and looked out the small window to her right as the man neared her aisle. She wasn't used to ogling, and definitely didn't want to be caught in the act.
She kept her eyes firmly planted on the plane's wing outside, waiting until she sensed the man had passed. But as the smell of expensive cologne wafted into her nose, her stomach fluttered. It seemed the man was doing anything but moving away from her.
When she whipped her head around, her stomach took a nose-dive. The man was placing a bag in the overhead compartment above her seat! Let him be sitting somewhere else, she silently said, eyeing his trim waist. I don't want that sexy man sitting next to me!
Closing the overhead compartment with an audible click, the man faced her. Michelle's mind shouted No! but the man gently eased his lean body into the seat beside her.
He smiled.
She tried to, but knew she must look like a terrified cat. What was wrong with her? How hard was it to sit beside an incredibly sexy man for the next four hours?
Four hours. Inwardly, she groaned. Then, leaning her head back, she closed her eyes. If her sister could see her now, she'd be laughing at the irony. This was the one week she wanted to forget that men even existed and how was she starting it? Clearly, with one of the more tempting specimens the male sex had to offer.
It was going to be a long flight.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kevin ran both hands over his face, checking for anything that would explain this incredibly attractive woman's bizarre reaction to him. He found nothing but his goatee, and he frowned. There had to be an explanation for her startled reaction. She didn't know him and had no reason to be personally offended by his presence.
He stared at her, at the closed eyelids in her smooth, golden brown face. Though she had been wide awake only moments before, she was suddenly fast asleep. Faking sleep, Kevin though with a wry grin. Avoiding him.
She may think that her good looks meant he would hit on her and make her uncomfortable, but that certainly wasn't the case. He was an attractive man and used to attention, too. He understood that unwanted attention was annoying, whether from physically attractive or unattractive people. He'd had his share of attractive women hounding him; he didn't appreciate their relentless pursuit of him, of his pocketbook. Over and over he had learned that beauty was superficial. Maybe he should wake his seat-mate and tell her he was mature enough not to harass her.
Maybe not. He might offend her, especially if he was jumping to conclusions about her reaction.
Leaning back in his seat, Kevin folded his arms over his chest. The flight would be just under four hours. It would be nice to chat to someone on the way, especially since he'd forgotten to bring a book or any interesting magazines. Of course, he had plenty of both at home. . . .
He shook his head. Maybe when his lovely seat-mate "woke up", he could prove to her that he didn't bite.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In a sleep-induced state, Michelle rolled her head and found the pillow. It was so warm, firm. Sighing softly, she snuggled against it, trying to get comfortable.
Pillow . . . Her mind, though groggy, registered the fact she hadn't asked for a pillow. She'd been feigning sleep to get out of talking to the sexy man beside her. So what was her head resting on?
Her eyes flew open. She saw black fabric and the smooth brown skin of a well-sculpted arm. No! her brain screamed. Immediately, her head jerked up. His dark eyes met and held hers.
"Uh, sorry," she mumbled, moving her body away from him. How could she have been so careless?
The man's lips curled in a slow grin, as though he had secretly conquered her. "Don't worry about it." He extended a hand. "I'm Kevin Brooks."
"Michelle Carroll," she said softly. She accepted his hand and he shook it firmly.
He looked down at her small hand in his large one. She had very pretty skin. Soft skin. The kind of skin a man could stroke all day and never get bored. It was smooth and golden brown. So soft.
His eyes moved to her face, taking a good, long look. Her face was narrow, her skin flawless. Her chestnut colored eyes were her most striking feature. They were wide, bright eyes that held a hint of mystery. She had both a professional and elegant look-nicely sculptured nails, thin eyebrows, and only a bit of dark lipstick on her sensuous mouth.
She was gorgeous. He could easily see her image gracing the covers of magazines. Maybe she would be interested in doing some modeling, if she didn't already. If the opportunity presented itself, he would give her his card. His boss might just be very interested.
He had held her hand a little too long, and now released it. "So, you're heading to Jamaica."
"Yes."
"Which part?"
"Ocho Rios."
"Really? Me too."
"Hmm."
Kevin wasn't sure if it was colder outside, or here in this row. "Will you be meeting family there, or are you travelling alone?"
"I'm travelling alone." She gazed out the window.
Getting her to respond was like pulling teeth-and Kevin was no dentist. He paused, eyed her carefully. Words fled his mind as he noticed her very attractive profile. From this view he saw that she had extremely long lashes. They seemed longer than any lashes he had seen before, but maybe he just never paid attention to eyelashes before now. Her dark brown hair had auburn highlights, and wavy wisps were tucked behind her ear. In that ear was a simple gold loop. Wavy tendrils reached the base of her long, graceful neck.
She looked like a nice enough person, seemed nice enough. So why was she giving him the cold shoulder? He didn't know what her problem was, but he was certainly not making a good impression on her. That surprised him, because Kevin never had a problem talking to women. Clearly, Michelle wasn't like any women he had met before. She was different.
He tried more conversation. "So, where will you be staying in Jamaica?"
Michelle glanced at him over her shoulder. Couldn't he tell that she didn't want to be bothered? She didn't know him and she didn't want to get to know him. But he was looking at her expectantly, waiting for a response. It made no sense to be rude when she was stuck with him for the next few hours.
"At the Seascape Resort," she finally said.
"The Seascape Resort?"
The way his eyes lit up caused a wary shiver to dance on her nape. Please be staying somewhere else. . . .
"What a coincidence. I'm staying there too."
Michelle fought the frown that tugged at her lips. "How . . . nice."
"I'm staying there a week. What about you?"
Why was this happening? She didn't want to meet a friend who would hound her for the week at the resort. She wanted peace, relaxation. No men. Especially not this one. He was too attractive. Too dangerous. She tried to speak, but croaked. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat, then responded, "A week."
"You need some water? I can get the flight attendant."
Michelle swallowed hard. "No. My throat is just a bit dry. The weather, you know?"
Those were the most words she'd said to him in an hour. He flashed her a cautious grin. "I've got some gum . . ."
"No. Thanks."
"Okay. But if you need any-"
"I won't."
Kevin watched as Michelle leaned forward in her chair and squirmed until she had slipped out of her coat. She seemed to try her best not to intrude on his space. When she was done, she folded the coat and placed it against the plane's wall near the headrest, then lay against the makeshift pillow. Closing her eyes, she moved around until comfortable.
Not once did she look at him again. Moments later, she even passed on her breakfast, claiming she wasn't hungry.
Kevin didn't understand why, but she was going to any length to avoid him. If it wasn't so crazy, he might find some humor in the situation.
Well, he was hungry, and the eggs and bacon before him looked and smelled great. But even as he concentrated on the food, his mind wondered about the peculiar Michelle.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Only when the plane came to a full stop on the tarmac in Jamaica did Michelle dare to open her eyes. Her stomach growled at the lack of food inside, and she wished now she hadn't been so desperate to avoid Kevin that she'd skipped breakfast. After all, what could he do to her on a plane packed with people?
He could get too friendly, a voice told her. If that happened, he would think they were buddy-buddy and be her best friend at the resort. She didn't need any new friends. Didn't want any. Especially not his type.
Michelle looked up. Kevin was standing, removing his carry-on bag from above. Even with the lower half of his body covered by casual black pants, she could tell he had strong, muscular legs.
She jerked her eyes away. Just because he was an attractive creature didn't mean she had to stare.
His bag in hand, he faced her briefly and smiled. Then turning, he walked away. Michelle slouched against her seat. Well, it seemed he finally got the point that she didn't want to be bothered.
Her head spinning with thoughts, Michelle sat in her seat until the people from the last row had made their way past her. She hoped she hadn't come across as a total snob, for she wasn't. It wasn't Kevin. His polite manner told her he was a nice guy and knew she had been a little too cold. She just didn't want to lose sight of the purpose of her Valentine's Getaway.
It was when she rose and looped her coat through her arm, that the thought suddenly hit her. How presumptuous she had been, thinking Kevin would want to become her best friend at the resort. In all likelihood, he was meeting someone there. Probably a woman. He was attractive enough, and certainly would have many women wanting to spend time with him for that reason alone.
Her bag over her shoulder, she dragged her feet to the front of the plane, now feeling like a big jerk. Maybe her sister was right. Maybe she was giving Andrew too much power over her life.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As Kevin found his luggage and made his way through the small airport in Montego Bay, he was only vaguely aware of the chorus of island women dressed in sarongs and colorful head wraps singing a lively welcome song. Politely, he waved off men offering to carry his luggage.
After the way she'd treated him, there was no reason for him to give her a second thought, but his mind was on the beautiful woman he'd left in row fourteen on the plane.
Michelle was strange, that was for sure. He had said nothing suggestive, but she must have thought his attempts at conversation were an attempt to pick her up. Was she just paranoid, or had he actually come across that way?
If he had actually expressed interest in getting to know her, he wouldn't feel so puzzled. As it was, his only crime was being a nice guy. He'd even allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder when she turned to him during her nap.
He still remembered the scent she wore. It was faint and sweet, like a lilac. The scent suited her. Like the flower, she too had delicate, attractive features.
A passing traveler bumped into Kevin, jarring him from his thoughts. He'd almost forgotten what he was looking for. He needed to find the tour bus going to the Seascape Resort. Pausing in the busy foyer, he looked around the airport and eventually saw a man holding a sign saying "Fun-in-the-Sun Vacations". He hurried toward him, and the man told him which bus to board outside.
Outside, the sun was gloriously warm, much like a late spring day in Newark. He smiled, glad to be here. To the left, there was a short wire fence separating a field from the airport. In that field, several cows grazed. It was an interesting sight, and Kevin knew instinctively that Jamaica was a small island rich in its culture.
Kevin placed his suitcase and carry-on bag in the luggage compartment outside the bus, then climbed into the coach. The bus was nearly full. There was a variety of people-several couples, some singles, and a few families with young children. Making his way down the bus' aisle, Kevin found an empty row near the back, and he slipped into the aisle seat. Michelle still wasn't here yet, and as seats were running out, he decided to save one for her. Not that he should care, given her reaction to him.
She was the last to enter the bus a few minutes later. Near the driver, she paused, looking around. Her expression was harried as she must have realized almost all the seats were taken. Deliberately, Kevin's eyes sought hers, hoping she'd look at him so he could let her know that there was an empty seat beside him. The next instant, relief washed over her face and she started down the aisle.
A few rows ahead of him, she paused. "Excuse me," she said to the woman in the aisle seat. "Is that seat taken?" The woman shook her head and readjusted her belongings. Michelle slipped into the vacant seat.
She had ignored him. Again.
He shook his head. In his thirty-five years of trying, he still hadn't figured out what made women tick. Be a gentleman, a nice guy, and they ran like you had the plague. Yet there were so many jerks with numerous women he couldn't count them all.
"Welcome to Jamaica, mon," the bus driver said as he began to maneuver out of the parking lot. "Everybody irie?"
There were choruses of "Irie" shouted back at the bus driver, but Kevin couldn't see if Michelle responded. He doubted it. He, too, had remained quiet. He wondered if she'd even talk to him at the resort if their paths crossed.
The driver then announced that the drive to Ocho Rios would be approximately two hours. Moments later, the bus turned left onto the two lane country road.
Kevin blew out a steady breath, then put his seat back and closed his eyes. He may as well get some sleep. He had a feeling this would be a long, lonely ride.
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