‘Mr Nico’s there, waiting for you. He tells me you can stay the night in Nassau, fly tomorrow. You want to do that?’
But Grace was eager to finish the trip without interruption and that seemed to have been the message conveyed to Curtis from Nico because there was an acceptance that she would accompany him, which she did.
All her senses were accosted by the shimmering beauty of her surroundings. She could smell the salty sea in the air and she didn’t know where to look as she followed Curtis to another part of the airfield, towards a small bank of island hoppers.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked breathlessly as she followed him to one of the tiny planes, where a pilot was waiting to take off.
‘Another of the islands.’ He flashed her a broad, proud smile. ‘Plenty islands here. Very beautiful. Mr Nico waiting for you on one of them. You going to be very happy when you get there, Miss Grace.’
Grace smiled back and wondered if she should tell him that she was there for work reasons, but chose not to, and follow-up conversation was lost, anyway, in the hustle and bustle of leaving the airport.
It was a brief flight, bumpy as the little plane barely skimmed the top of the clouds, and from her vantage point she could gaze down at an expanse of aquamarine ocean, so clear that she could discern the shapes of rocks and reefs under the surface. The occasional boat dotted the surface, the interruption of islands like pearls strung into a necklace surrounded by water.
That excitement again, reminding her of just how much she had sacrificed over the years.
It had been a gradual build-up. She had had her childhood snatched from her simply because Cecily had been an irresponsible parent. Her mother had cornered the market on having fun, and in the process had deprived her of her own chances to have it. From latchkey kid, she had assumed responsibilities way beyond the pale from far too young an age, and just when she could have really begun to enjoy her life, to live it free from having to be the resident caretaker, her brother had had his accident and, shortly after, her mother had left the country.
And in her gaily departed wake, amidst the flurry of hugs and kisses and dabbed tears, Grace had quietly resigned herself to the door being shut on her dreams of breaking free.
Someone would have to look out for Tommy and her mother wasn’t going to suddenly start auditioning for the Mother of the Year award when she’d spent her entire life turning down the role.
So this—however apprehensive she felt about the change to her routine—felt like a holiday and made her heart soar.
Too soon the little plane was dipping down and the pilot was telling her to make sure she was fastened in.
‘These runways are small.’ He turned to grin at her. ‘Sometimes you have to screech to a stop before you hit sea.’
‘That’s comforting.’ Grace laughed but he wasn’t kidding and the shriek of brakes as the aircraft shuddered to a stop made her clutch the arms of her seat and squeeze shut her eyes.
She opened them to see Nico.
He was walking towards the plane and she wondered whether it was her imagination or whether a couple of days in the sun had turned him an even deeper shade of bronze.
He looked impossibly sexy. His black, too long hair had curled a little in the heat and he was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses, which made it impossible for her to see his eyes. He was in the outfit of nearly everyone else she’d seen—slim, tailored pale shorts and a tee shirt—and as he stopped by the plane, he shoved the shades up and squinted into the sun towards her.
Grace pulled back from the window. The pilot was already opening the door and a burst of hot air flooded in as she quickly scrambled to her feet, reaching for her bag and holding it as close to her as a talisman as she carefully dipped out of the plane and gingerly walked down the metal steps.
On the last step, Nico reached out for her hand, a polite gesture that still sent a shock wave of heat through her.
‘Here in one piece, I see,’ he murmured, sunglasses back in place, which made her feel immediately disadvantaged.
‘The arrangements went very smoothly.’ Grace looked away and ran her finger under the collar of her shirt, aiming for some much-needed ventilation.
Looking at her, Nico had to stop himself from bursting into laughter. Honestly. What on earth was she wearing? Surely she would have twigged that a tropical island was no place for starchy work clothes in which she would be reduced to a puddle of sweat the very second she was exposed to the fierce heat? He shoved his hands into the pockets of his shorts and politely made some chit-chat about flying and aeroplane meals as they headed towards the small SUV parked at an angle in the distance.
Nevertheless, he couldn’t resist saying, as they approached the car, ‘You must be hot.’ He slid his eyes across to her and saw the delicate blush. ‘I’m very much hoping,’ he murmured gravely, ‘that this isn’t going to be your standard dress code.’
‘I’m not at all hot,’ Grace lied.
‘We’re not going to be in the formal setting of an office,’ Nico continued, noting the way she blew the hair from her face and continued fiddling with the collar of her prissy shirt, ‘so you’re allowed to wear more informal clothing.’
‘I thought we were going to be working while we were here.’
‘We are, but not in the conventional setting of an office. Of course, the hotel has somewhere we can work but...’ Nico paused, opened the door of the four-wheel drive, flung her case in the back seat and sauntered round to the driver’s side. He turned to her before starting the engine, his hand loose on the steering wheel. ‘But the hotel isn’t quite what I had imagined.’
He turned on the engine and accelerated out of the airfield. No air conditioning. The windows were open and as the car bumped up speed Grace’s hair was blown back by the warm air.
‘What do you mean?’