Roarke's Kingdom Read online

  Jennifer laughed. “What are you talking about? What trip?”

  “What do you think?” he said, ignoring her questions. “Rum? Gin? How about a piña colada? What’s your preference?”

  “I’ve never had a piña whatever—”

  “Colada.” He smiled at her as he took out a decanter of rum, then reached into a small refrigerator tucked discreetly into the base of the unit. “Pineapple juice, ice—now for the special Campbell magic.”

  She watched, laughing, as he dumped things into a blender, then whirred them to a froth.

  “There we are,” he said, pouring their drinks with a flourish. “Sustenance for our journey. Are you ready, Miss Hamilton?”

  “I suppose so. But where are we going?”

  Roarke smiled mysteriously as he handed her a chilled glass. “On the eternal quest,” he said. “We seek the perfect sunset.” He touched his glass lightly to hers. “And tonight, who knows? We may just find it.”

  He took her hand in his and wove their fingers together as they made their way down the terrace and into the garden. A giant Sierra palm tree grew in its heart; by the time they reached it, its white-blossomed fruit spikes seemed to be tipped with the fire of the sun.

  “The first stop on the Campbell tour,” Roarke said, nodding toward the towering tree. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s beautiful,” she said softly.

  Their eyes met. There was a sudden silence, and then he tugged lightly on her hand. “Let’s go,” he said. “We’ve two more stops to make.”

  Jennifer laughed. “Two more? But—”

  “I know what you’re thinking. If we’re late, the show will go on without us.” He grinned. “Trust me. It wouldn’t dare.”

  No, she thought, it wouldn’t. She couldn’t imagine anything or anyone deliberately disappointing this man.

  “So, lift your glass to the Sierra palm. That’s it. Take a sip of your drink—good.” His fingers laced through hers again. “Okay. Next stop, the top of Panther Mountain.”

  The mountain was really little more than a gentle slope that rose in the center of Isla de la Pantera. A narrow, grassy trail curved up to the top and by the time they reached what Roarke laughingly called the summit, the sun hung suspended over the sea, turning the high, puffy clouds that always floated over the island to crimson and gold.

  “Oh, Roarke.” Jennifer’s voice was barely a whisper. “How beautiful.”

  His arm slid around her shoulders. “I think I could live here for a thousand years and never grow tired of this view.” He pointed out across the sea with his glass. “In the fall, if you’re lucky, you can see the storms as they blow in across the Caribbean.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s as if I can see straight to the end of the earth.”

  “There’s only one view better.”

  Moments later, standing barefoot in the warm surf that beat gently against the beach, Jennifer knew he was right. This view of the sun, lying on the rising breast of the sea, was spectacular.

  “Is it always like this?”

  Roarke raised his glass in mock salute to the sky.

  “No, not always. Sometimes it’s even more brilliant.”

  “Now I know why you bought Isla de la Pantera.”

  “Actually, there were two reasons.”

  “What was the other?”

  He drew her closer against his side. “The sunrises.”

  Jennifer smiled. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not really joking?”

  Roarke took her empty glass and set it down on the sand with his, and they began walking slowly along the beach, hands joined, bare feet in the surf.

  “The truth is that buying the island started out as a business venture. I’d seen too many small islands snatched up and badly developed in this part of the world and I thought the future—the real future—lay in learning to create communities on these islands that would draw tourists without compromising the environment.” He groaned. “Hell. Does that sound as pretentious as I think it does?”

  “What it sounds is impossible.”

  “Not impossible—but tough. Very tough. Anyway, I’d commissioned a guy to take aerial photographs of the area for me as part of that idea. He did, and when I went through them, I came across the shots of Isla de la Pantera.”

  Jennifer glanced at him and nodded. “Island of the Panther.”

  Roarke smiled. “Your Spanish is improving, hmm?”

  “I asked Constancia what it meant.”

  “And she told you it was named for a mystical jaguar.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Very mystical.” He smiled again. “Considering that jaguars don’t exist on these islands, and never have.”

  “Why the name, then?”

  Roarke let go of her hand and slipped his arm around her shoulders. His arm, his body felt hot against hers, and she had to step herself from burrowing closer.

  “No one is certain, but it’s probably tied up with voodoo.”

  “Voodoo? Really?”

  “Lots of people in the Caribbean practice voodoo—including some of the ones who live on this island. They have some sort of legend about a solitary creature—half man, half jaguar—who roams these hills.” He gestured across the low dunes, toward the interior of the island, where darkness had already overtaken the dwindling daylight. “He lives here, alone, the legend says, because he can’t find peace anywhere else.”

  Jennifer glanced at Roarke from beneath her lashes. The fading light played across his face, painting his high cheekbones with shadow.

  “How sad,” she said softly.

  He nodded. “Yes.” His voice was tight. “I thought so, too. Anyway, I flew out to take a look at the island—and I knew I had to have it.”

  “So you bought it.”

  “It took a while. The government didn’t want to sell it to me—they already had plans for a casino and a resort complex. And there were others who were opposed—who thought my plans for the island would keep it too isolated to be of any value.”

  “But they were wrong.”

  “Who knows what’s right or wrong in this life? I think the island is beyond value.” His smile twisted. “But there are those who would disagree, who would tell you that living here, in such a primitive setting, away from everything else…”

  His voice faded away just as the sun fell behind the horizon. Jennifer looked at him, at the downward curve of his mouth, and she knew that he was talking about his wife.

  “Roarke?” She drew a deep breath. “When you bought the island—did you know then how your wife felt about it?”

  He came to a stop, so sudden and abrupt that she almost stumbled.

  “What kind of question is that?”

  The harshness in his voice stung her. She couldn’t see his face clearly, now that the sun was almost gone, but she knew how it must look: cold, hard, unyielding.

  “I just—I wondered how—I mean, Constancia said—”

  She broke off, swallowing her words, wishing she had thought before she’d spoken.

  “Constancia’s turning into an old woman who has nothing better to do than gossip. What did she tell you?”

  “Nothing. Well, just that your wife didn’t like the island.”

  His laughter was without humor. “An understatement. She despised it.”

  “And that you and she—that you’re divorced.”

  “Yes, we are. We have been for more than two years—” He drew a breath, then spoke in a cold voice. “Is there anything else you want to know?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I—I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “I have no wish to discuss Alexandra,” he said grimly. “Do I make myself clear?”

  Jennifer nodded. Roarke’s gaze swept over her face and then he groaned and drew her to him.

  “Forgive me,” he said softly.

  “No. I mean, you have every right to—”

  “I just don’t want to talk about
her. I don’t—I don’t want to spoil things. When I’m with you…”

  Jennifer put her fingers over his mouth.

  “You don’t have to explain.”

  He clasped her hand and kissed it.

  And as they walked back toward the house, Jennifer thought of what Constancia had told her, that whatever had existed between Roarke and his wife wasn’t over yet.

  She would be a fool to let herself fall in love with him.

  Because she knew it was already happening. She was already—

  Jennifer caught her breath. Roarke drew her more tightly into the curve of his arm. “What is it?”

  “Nothing. Just—I felt a chill, that’s all.”

  “I’m an idiot! I’ve walked you too far. Wait here. I’ll go back and get the Jeep.”

  “No,” she said quickly. “No, I’m fine. I just—I guess I was thinking about the jaguar. The one the island’s named after.” She looked up at him and smiled. “Tell me more about voodoo. Do the islanders still practice it?”

  “Yes. There’s a plateau on the west shore, overlooking the sea—I’ve seen the glow of the bonfires there a few times. In fact, I’ve been invited to attend the ceremonies.”

  “And have you?”

  “No, not yet.” He smiled. “Why? Would you like to watch?”

  She tilted her head back and looked at him. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “Although—yes. I think it would be fascinating.”

  “Well, then, the next time I’m invited, I’ll accept for the both of us. How does that sound?”

  A delighted smile curved across her mouth. “It sounds wonderful! Are you sure they won’t mind if I—oh!” Her face fell. “Thank you for asking me. But I’ll be leaving the day after tomorrow.”

  Roarke held back the heavy branches of the rhododendron as they entered the garden.

  “The day after tomorrow,” he murmured. “That’s right. I almost forgot.”

  She had forgotten too.

  The day after tomorrow. How could that be? It seemed impossible to think of seeing San Juan again, with its crowded streets and hotels, and the thought of Chicago, lying buried beneath the snow, was even more foreign. She would be there, a million miles away. And Roarke—Roarke would be here; she would never see him again, she would—

  “Jennifer.” Roarke stopped walking and turned toward her. “Are you happy here?”

  All around them, thousands of tiny lights hidden in the branches of the trees blinked to life, as pale as the moon rising overhead.

  She looked up at him. She knew it would be best to lie. To tell him she couldn’t wait to return to what she increasingly thought of as the real world.

  But she couldn’t lie.

  Not when his hands cupped her shoulders. Not when his eyes were filled with questions.

  “Yes,” she said softly. “I’m very happy here.”

  “You don’t think the island is a prison?”

  “A prison? No! Why would you even ask me such a…” A flush rose in her cheeks. “Juan told you what I said about the parakeets. But that was before I really knew you.”

  “And you thought, ‘Aha, here’s a rich man, playing at being God.’” He nodded. “Well, in a way, you were right.”

  “Roarke—”

  “The birds are from a species that lives in a rainforest that borders Brazil. A friend—a guy I went to school with—did his doctoral thesis on the flock. He knew they were doomed—that between the burning of the rainforest and human encroachment their population had dropped from—”

  “You mean, you had them brought here to save them?”

  He smiled thinly. “I’m not a complete altruist. I brought them here because it was good for both of us, the flock and me. It saved them, and it gave me pleasure. Do you understand?”

  Yes, she thought, she did. He was telling her that he was a man who took what he wanted, if it suited him, and that he did not always do things for reasons that were immediately clear.

  But she knew that already. His complexity had frightened her at first; perhaps it still did. He could be moody and removed one moment, charming and warm the next. He could be demanding, almost arrogant in his single-mindedness. But he was always exciting, always filled with life…

  “Jennifer. You really do like it here, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Very much. Especially since everyone’s stopped treating me like an invalid.”

  He smiled. “You’ve managed to get on Constancia’s good side. I’m impressed. That takes some doing.”

  Jennifer laughed. “Her bark is worse than her bite.”

  “Emilia tells me you’ve struck it off well with Susanna.”

  “That didn’t take any effort at all. She’s a wonderful little girl.”

  Roarke nodded. “You won’t get any argument from me on that.” His eyes swept over her face. “Do you like children?”

  She felt the swift, painful constriction of her heart. “I love children,” she said softly.

  The night breeze, softly perfumed with frangipani, blew silken strands of dark hair across her cheek. Roarke reached out and stroked them back, his fingers gentle against her skin.

  “Why isn’t there a man waiting for you back in—where was it?”

  “Broadwell, Illinois. And—” her breath caught as he cupped her face in his hands and brushed his thumbs over her cheekbones “And how do you know there isn’t?”

  “You told me, remember? Anyway, if there were, you wouldn’t have come looking for a job here.”

  At first, she didn’t know what he meant. “A job?”

  “You said you were looking for a job the day you stormed the walls at Campbell’s.”

  “Oh. Oh, that.” She forced a little laugh. “Actually—actually, that was a spur-of-the-moment idea. I—I came here on vacation, and I took one look at the sun and the sea and I thought, why should I go back to an Illinois winter?”

  Another lie, but what did one more matter?

  “And the job back home is nothing special?”

  “I’m a waitress,” she said, chin lifted.

  “Hey. No need to get defensive.”

  “I am not being…” She sighed. “Okay. Maybe I’m a little defensive. But—”

  “But it isn’t what you want to do for the rest of your life.”

  “You mean, getting barked at by the owner, snarled at by the cook, growled at by the customers?” She laughed. “No.”

  “I get it. Completely. I put in four long years waiting tables in college.”

  “You?”

  He grinned. “You figured I inherited my money?”

  “Well…”

  “I come from lofty beginnings made humble by a father who chose not to take the business advice he paid people to provide him, but that’s a whole other story.” He laid his hands lightly on her shoulders. “So, what would you do with your life? If you had a choice, I mean.”

  Jennifer hesitated. “Why?”

  “Humor me, okay?”

  She smiled. “Well, I always thought I’d like to be a teacher. You know. Work with kids.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  It was his turn to hesitate. “Well, then…” He cleared his throat. “Emilia is leaving.”

  “Susanna’s nanny?”

  “Right. She has some family issues back home… The point is, she’s going. And Susanna needs a nanny.”

  Jennifer’s heart thudded. “Are you asking me to be Susu’s nanny?”

  “I’m asking you to stay here,” he said. “With my daughter.” He drew a long breath. “And with me.”

  “Roarke. I’m flattered, but—”

  “No strings,” he said quickly. “No hidden agenda. I just—I just think it’s a good plan. For us all.”

  There was only one logical answer and it was no. No, she would not take the job. No, she would not stay on the island. With a man who was starting to mean too much to her. With a child she was beginning to love as she knew she would have loved h
er own.

  With a lie entrapping her like a spider’s silken web.

  Roarke would go on believing that she’d only come here on vacation. He wouldn’t know she had come to find him or, at least, the man she’d believed him to be. He wouldn’t know that while she took care of his child she had given away her own…

  “Jennifer.”

  She blinked. Looked up. Roarke’s eyes were deep and dark; a muscle was flickering in his cheek.

  “Jen,” he said softly. “Please. Say yes.”

  She was going to say “no.”

  But when he reached for her, took her in his arms and kissed her…

  Fool that she was, she said “yes.”

  Chapter Seven

  It was evening and the nursery shutters were closed against the sun that still hung in the tropical sky.

  A pool of light illuminated the bentwood rocking chair where Jennifer sat holding Susanna, her dark head bent over the child’s, while she read softly to her.

  “And the prince lifted the princess to the back of his horse…”

  “An’ they lived happ’ly ever after,” Susu said drowsily.

  Jennifer smiled as she closed the volume of fairy tales and put it on the bedside table.

  “Yes,” she said, “that’s right, they lived happily ever after.” She smoothed back the little girl’s dark curls. “Bedtime,” she whispered.

  The child sighed and wound her arms around Jennifer’s neck as she got to her feet. “Where’s Teddy?”

  “Teddy’s right here, sweetheart. Now, you just lie down—that’s the way—and I’ll cover you up.”

  “Cover Teddy, too,” Susu murmured as she snuggled under the blankets. Her feathery lashes drooped to her cheeks, then lifted. “Jenfer?”

  “What, baby?”

  The child sighed again and rolled onto her belly. “Don’t never go ’way,” she whispered. Her eyelids closed and within seconds she was fast asleep.

  Jennifer watched her for a moment. Then she kissed Susu’s brow and shut off the bedside lamp. The room was swallowed up in darkness except for the soft illumination of the Princess Elsa night-light plugged into the wall beside the bed.

  Out in the hall, she leaned back against the wall, her throat muscles working as she tried to swallow past the lump that had risen in her throat.