A Tropical Rendezvous: A BWWM Interracial Bad Boy Billionaire Multicultural Romance (African American Romance) (45 page)

Chapter Four

It was official. Kyle Masters was an asshole. He couldn’t deny it if he wanted to, which he didn’t. The past three days at the hospital had been the most excruciating seventy two hours of his life. He alternated between sitting at Mona’s bedside while her small body began to shut down, reading the newest journal articles for a Hail Mary that would save her and trying like hell to forget the look on Kira’s face as she walked out of his apartment. None of it had worked. In Mona’s room he listened to the sound of her mother’s endless crying, there was nothing to be done for any type of cancer as widespread as was in his patient and fuck, everything made him think about Kira.

What in the hell was I thinking? He couldn’t explain why he’d gone off on Kira the way he had or why she’d taken it. But then he knew why, it was one of the last things she’d said to him. She loved him. He couldn’t believe it and he’d fucked it up before it could ever become anything. He could try to fix it but the flowers he’d sent yesterday had been diverted to Mona’s room anonymously. She hadn’t answered any of his calls and he missed her like crazy, dammit.

He smiled knowing he wouldn’t have to wait much longer. The elevator was stopped to let Mrs. Mercer off on the third floor and in a few moments he would be home. Where Kira was. He would shower and apologize, explain the stress and helplessness he felt over Mona. She would understand. She had to.

Inside his apartment his face brightened at the sight of several covered dishes on the table. That had to be a good sign, so did the plastic containers in his fridge. Kira wouldn’t make him food if she was angry. The slow smile he wore quickly faded when he entered the bedroom. Everything was gone. Her phone dock on the nightstand was gone, her bright green turtle slippers were no longer peeking from underneath the bed and in the bathroom her shower gel, toothbrush and fluffy red towels were missing. They were there when he left and now they were gone.

She was gone.

He couldn’t figure it out. Why would she remove all her belongings yet still make him food? She loves you, you idiot. But if she still loved him there was still a chance, right? Women didn’t fall out of love that quickly. Did they?

He needed a plan and during his fifteen minute shower he’d gone over several plans and discarded them all. Kira wouldn’t appreciate false sentiment but he needed a grand gesture. By the time he reached the kitchen he was still kicking around ideas but none were inspired. When he caught sight of the hot pink sticky note next to fudge pecan bars, his heart sank. The apartment key was there, sitting on the table like it belonged there. He still hadn’t figured out how she’d gotten it and she’d given it back. He picked up the note hoping for a sign, for anything really. But the note had a lopsided heart drawn on it and the letter K.

~~~

Kira was a mess. She was tired, she was brokenhearted and she was pissed as hell. It was all Kyle’s fault. Stupid, sexy, arrogant, rotten Kyle Masters. Yep, it was all his fault and she’d be over him soon. Very soon. She hadn’t seen him since three days ago when she left his apartment and that was fine with her. It broke her heart, but it was also fine with her. Just fine.

Just to make sure she worked with her headphones on so she would hear or be tempted to answer if he knocked. He didn’t. Of course he didn’t, he’d made his feelings very clear. She would respect his feelings and hope like hell she didn’t run into him ever again.

She tiptoed down the hall hoping to avoid making a sound, just in case Kyle was home. Inside her apartment she closed the door and leaned on it, eyes closed in gratitude she’d made it another day without seeing the man who had broken her heart.

“Avoiding someone?”

She screamed at the top of her lungs and threw her favorite Buddha statue in the direction of the voice. “I’m calling the police,” she announced as she pulled out her phone and opened the door.

“Kira it’s me.”

Kyle. “What are you doing in here?”

He stood with that lazy smile on his gorgeous face. “I figured turnabout was fair play, so here I am.”

“Good. Great. Well done. Goodbye,” she opened the door further until the light from the hallway filtered in.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that yet. I need to talk to you Kira, please.”

The ‘please’ had nearly undone her resolve but she was made of stronger stuff. “It seems to me we’ve both said all there was to say.” She opened the door wider, a clue if ever there was one.

Kyle stomped over to her and slammed the door shot, throwing the locks. “I’m not going any damn where until you listen so put your pretty little ass in a seat before I spank it.”

“Fine,” she grumbled and took a seat at her desk. “Talk.” She watched his large sexy body move with feline grace back and forth across her hardwood floor. He was so good looking it hurt her heart to look at him.

“Kira I’m so sorry. Really I am. I had no right to blame Mona’s situation on you. I didn’t mean any of it, I was just stressed out and feeling helpless.” He stopped pacing and looked at her. “I miss you Kira,” he dropped to his knees and laid his head in her lap. “God I missed you so fucking much. These past few days have been terrible without you. I can’t think or sleep without you babe. You invade my dreams and honestly, it’s been the best part of my day for the past few days.”

A few tears rolled down her cheeks at his sweet words. “Kyle.”

“Just tell me it’s not too late for us. Tell me there’s hope for us, that you still love me.”

She ran her fingers through his mussed russet waves, back and forth while his head lay buried in her lap. “How’s Mona?” He shook his head and a few more tears fell, this time for him and for the parents of that poor little girl. “Oh Kyle, I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

“It’s not too late,” she whispered.

His head whipped up and he fought the smile threatening to split his handsome face. “You mean it?” She nodded a small smile on her face. “You still love me?”

“Of course I do, you big idiot.” She smiled down at him, the tall, well-built muscular doctor who’d stolen her heart. “I love you, Kyle. With all of my heart and all that I am.”

Head dipped in relief, he tightened his grip on her hips and pulled her closer. “Good. I love you too Kira, so fucking much. With my whole heart. If you let me, I’m going to love you as best as I can for as long as I can.” He captured her mouth in a slow sweet kiss that quickly grew hotter and hotter.

She cupped his head in her hands. “I look forward to seeing what it’s like to have you love me. Dr. Masters.”

“Oh and you will. I’m going to love you in the bed, on the counter, at the dinner table, in the shower. The elevator,” he scooped her up into his arms, laughing when she shrieked in surprise. “And soon Kira, I’m going to love you as my wife.”

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “Oh Kyle I want that too, I love you so much!”

“How much?”

She stripped off her clothes and laid on the bed. “Enough to let you be in charge. Forever”

The growl he released was primal. “Damn I love you.”

The End

“I hate this city,” Rory Lane pouted after reading the letter her landlord had sent. Her business
Rory Lane Designs
, was located in the heart of Rainbow Cove. She sold unique, handcrafted jewelry made from precious stones and gems. She did decent business, especially when all the tourists came to check out the famed caves and coves, but not as well as she needed to. But now her already ridiculously high rent on her store was almost doubling.

It was bad enough she was living above the store to save money but there was no way she could pay nearly eight grand a month in rent and still afford to eat, pay utilities and raw materials for her designs. She was truly screwed. Rory’s shoulders sagged in defeat. She wasn’t ready to give up on her dream of becoming a well-known jewelry designer and she was damn good at it. The pieces that
had
sold were well received and often lead to repeat business. She just needed a bigger customer base.

Rainbow Cove was a small town in California, famed for the reflective rainbow lights inside many of the small nooks and coves along the coast. The town attracted more than its fair share of hippies, mystics, wealthy vacationers and teenage girls, which is why Rory couldn’t understand why she wasn’t pulling in more business. Her best friend Jackson said her prices were too high, but handcrafted jewelry wasn’t the same as the cheap mall crap that turned green after a few days. She used quality materials—real precious and semi-precious stones and gems—and made every piece herself. The price reflected the quality and rarity of the materials. She would not lower her prices, she would find a way to survive.

She groaned and padded to the fridge in search of something to calm her nerves. She grabbed a beer and that stupid damn pesky brown envelope called to her from the pile of mail on her pitiful excuse for a dining table. That brown envelope held the solution to all of her current problems, if she were about six years older. Yep her dear old parents had screwed her good and proper with their will.

Three years ago Victor and Rene Lane died when their private plane went down in a storm somewhere over the Bahamas. They left everything in their considerable estate to their only child, Rory, but with some heavy duty strings attached. She would have outright and total control of everything on her 35
th
birthday, but at 29 that felt like it was eons away and it wouldn’t help her today. Unless she up and got married.
Yeah that’s never gonna happen,
she scoffed at the thought.

Rory had problems not just getting dates, but keeping a boyfriend once she got one. She of course blamed her curves. How could she not when every single boyfriend—all three of them—had tried to help her lose weight and when that had failed, left for a thinner prettier version of herself. To say she had confidence issues would be an understatement. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to lose weight, she had, but she was curvy by nature and her short stature didn’t lend itself to that long lean look guys seemed to favor.

She was doomed to be short and full figured for the rest of her life and she was, mostly, okay with that now. She’d lost all the weight her body was capable of losing and still she exercised regularly, not that it did her any good. So yeah, getting married was pretty much not an option.

“I guess I’d better start packing,” she decided with a heavy sigh. She would be homeless since she lived above
Rory Lane Designs
. “Yeah screw my life,” she said and smacked that mocking letter with the legal letterhead to the ground.

~

“So what are you feeding me tonight?” Rory sat at the bench and watched her best friend, Jackson Bennett, chop up tons of vegetables some of which she didn’t even recognize. He invited her to taste test his newest creations for the summer menu at his upscale diner,
Eats Aplenty
. Jackson was an amazing chef and had turned dozens of offers to be an executive chef at famous restaurants in Los Angeles, Seattle and San Francisco but he’d turned them down to do it on his own. She admired that about him. Well he was ridiculously good looking, cooked like a dream and he was a man of honor.

Jackson gave her that smile she called the panty dropper because over the years she’d witnessed more girls than she could count melt under the pressure of that smile. “You don’t worry about
what
they are, just tell me how they taste.”

“Oh come on Jacks, you’re not going to tell me?”

He shook his head, “Because I know you Rory and you’ll prejudge the foods you
think
you don’t like.”

She sat back with a
humph
even though she knew it was true. “Fine. Chop chop
mon petite
chef, mama’s getting hungry!” She sipped the drink he poured for her and moaned. “Oh that’s good. What is it?”

There went that panty dropper smile again. “That is a lychee-tini. Drink up.”

She sighed heavily about a half dozen times before Jackson put down his knife and waved at her. “Lay it on me sweetheart. Tell me what’s so bad that you’re about to blow all my veggies on the floor?”

“I-I,” she started and stopped several times. “I’m thinking about signing up for a matchmaking service.”

His brows lifted in shock. “What, like online dating? Why?”

“No
not
like online dating. A matchmaker will prescreen men before I meet them and I’ll only meet the ones who meet my…criteria.”

“Why would you do that Ro, you’re beautiful. Just go out and find a man on your own.” He started chopping again, completely oblivious to the evil glare directed at him. “What?”

“Of course you would say that,” she shook her head. “You’re gorgeous, single and rarely sleep alone. It’s not so easy for us mere mortals, Jacks.” She tossed back the second half of her drink and motioned for another. “Anyway this way, the guy will know what I look like before he decides and I’ll only meet with the ones who’ve seen me.” If she thought signing up for a matchmaker was embarrassing, telling Jacks was worse.

“What’s the hurry Rory, you’re still young. Wait until your looks start to fade then find a husband.”

“That ship has sailed,” she mumbled. She shook off the pity party and ignored the pity she would see in Jackson’s gaze instead focused on her newly refilled drink. “Anyway I’ve already signed up for one service so I should find someone any day now.”

“Why? I know this is more than you just woke up and decided you wanted to catch a husband.”

“My store. It’s failing and my landlord practically doubled my rent. If I don’t get money from somewhere I’m going to lose it all.”

“You’re thinking of that damned inheritance aren’t you?” Jackson shook his head. He wished her parents were still alive so he could kill them for putting those ridiculous stipulations in their will. “Please don’t do this Rory, it’s not worth it.”

“That’s easy for you to say Rory, your business is booming and if you were in my position you’d have to hold auditions to pick a wife. I have to find a professional,” she slumped in her seat and finished off her second drink. “Plus I’ll have to use up all my savings to get an apartment if I don’t. So this is literally my only hope.”

“I’ll do it,” he said and continued to chop bok choy.

“What? No Jacks I can’t ask you to do that.”

A sexy slow grin kicked up one side of his face. “You didn’t ask, I’m offering.”

She looked at Jackson for a long time, took in his too handsome features and imagined him as her husband. He was much too good looking and sure, there was a time she thought they could be more but of course he wasn’t interested and he’d become her best friend. But she really needed this and it would be better him than a stranger.
Unless you were dumb enough to fall for him
. She would do her best to avoid falling in love with her best friend and if she did, well she’d deal with that after
Rory Lane Designs
was out of danger. “Okay Jackson, but I’m going to pay you.”

He shook his head and pointed his knife at her. “No, you won’t. You’re my best girl, of course I’ll help.”

“Nope sorry. A hundred grand a year for two years and that’s final.”

He looked up with a smile that was more powerful than the panty dropper. “Then I guess we’re getting married!”