Tropical Getaway
“I don’t know what got into me, choosing a dress like that.” Ava grinned at the thought of the slinky red dress that had what Cassie called “maximum cleavage.” Six months ago she wouldn’t have considered wearing a dress that revealing. She started to untie her apron. “Let’s go upstairs and get Cassie.”
“Oh, she’s in the dining room,” Mia said, a tiny smile curling at her lips. “She and Marco just got back from the airport.”
“The airport?” Ava’s hands froze on her apron strings. Cassie’s family had arrived yesterday afternoon, and they weren’t expecting anyone else. “What were they doing at the airport?”
“They picked up their boss from St. Barts. He’s out there with them now.” Mia broke into a full grin. “You failed to mention he was a gorgeous hunk of blond.”
Ava felt the blood drain from her head. Dane. He’d come to her. He’d come to her.
She covered her mouth with her hand as she stared at Mia, speechless. She ignored her cousin’s giggle and let the rush of joy and warmth and complete confusion wash over her.
“He’s here?” The words strangled in her throat.
Mia nodded. “There’s one handsome man waiting for you out there. He’s politely making small talk but seems to be looking around an awful lot.”
A nervous laugh escaped Ava’s lips. “Oh…oh my God. I can’t believe this…” Her hands flew to her hair and down her stained apron. “I better…I…do I look okay?”
Mia leaned against a stainless steel counter and crossed her arms as she scrutinized her cousin. “I’d say you look dazed, Ave. Dazed and…maybe a little in love?”
She shot her cousin a deep, infectious grin. “More than a little, Mia.”
She heard his laugh as soon as she opened the door. Like music, like angels singing, she thought, wallowing in the beauty of the sound. She saw him from the back, his broad shoulders blocking the light of the winter sun pouring through the front window, his hand comfortably on Marco’s shoulder. They stood in a small group, Marco, Maggie and Dominic, Cassie and her two brothers and her parents. And Dane.
“Oh, here’s Ava now,” she heard Mama say.
He turned instantly. Backlit from the window, she could hardly see his face in the shadows. She could see his hair had been cut neatly and noticed that he looked oddly out of place in a sweater and long pants, a leather jacket hooked in his finger and hung over his shoulder. The knock of her heart and a rush of blood through her veins were the only sounds she heard. He moved toward her and out of the shadow, and she could see his warm blue eyes and an even warmer smile. She had no doubt, no doubt at all, why he was there.
“I hear there’s going to be a wedding tonight,” he said softly, reaching for her before she could even exhale. “I didn’t want to miss it.”
She nearly got his name out, but he pulled her into his arms before she could speak and his mouth came down on hers and covered it with a long, soulful kiss that left her dizzy and breathless.
His lips moved to her ear. His breath, warm with promise, tickled her, sending sparks of anticipation and joy right down to her toes. “I can’t live another day without you, baby.”
“Good lord, you’re more nervous than I am,” Cassie teased as she tucked a wayward tendril of Ava’s hair into an uncooperative knot.
Ava shook her head hard and the curl fell down. “Damn!” Her gaze moved from her own face in the mirror to Cassie. “I think I want it down, Cass. Do you mind?”
“I don’t care if you wear a bathing cap, for goodness’ sakes. Just finish and help me button this contraption.” She turned to show Ava the open back of her wedding gown.
With shaking fingers, Ava started working on the silk loops of Cassie’s dress. Eventually she attached them all to a coordinating button, then took every pin out of her hair and shook her mass of curls into long waves that fell over the bare skin revealed by her off-the-shoulder dress.
Stepping back to the full-length mirror in her bedroom, she did a little twirl to let the red silk dance around her body. She ran her hands along the magnificent lines of the dress, turning to the side to appreciate the way it hugged her body. She’d never thought of herself as sexy, she thought as she studied the deeply cut bodice and gave the strapless bra a final tug to accentuate the rise of her breasts against the red. Never thought of herself as quite this beautiful. But that was before Dane.
Cassie’s bright eyes twinkled behind Ava’s reflection. “Hey, make room for the bride, luv.” They stood side by side, drinking in the result of their hard work.
“Hmmm…” Cassie cocked her head in the mirror. “An angel and a devil, wouldn’t you say?”
In her glorious white gown and a lace veil that gently fell over golden curls, Cassie indeed looked heavenly. With black hair spilling to the edges of the fitted scarlet silk, Ava looked anything but angelic.
“You are truly a divine bride, Cass.”
“Thanks. And Dane’s going to drop dead when you walk in that church, luv.”
Ava’s throaty laugh was the only response. She looked into Cassie’s eyes in the mirror and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Did you, uh, talk to him recently?”
Cassie looked away and plucked at the white lace of her long sleeve. “I did not.”
Ava squinted at her. “Do not lie to me. You are about to legally become my sister, Cassie Sebring Santori.”
“Ooh. I like the sound of that.” Cassie giggled but couldn’t avoid Ava’s pointed stare. “I really didn’t talk to him. But Marco may have had a little chat with him.”
“And said…?” Ava prompted.
“Who knows what men say to each other, luv? He probably gave Dane the same advice Dane has given him for years.”
“And that would be?”
“Find your way,” Cassie said simply, and then winked. “Evidently, he found his way right to you.”
Ava flushed, remembering the words he’d whispered in her ear earlier, after a long and meaningful kiss in front of her whole family.
There had been no time for more than a few lingering gazes before they had to run upstairs and gather Cassie’s dress and take off for Ava’s apartment. But tonight, at the wedding, they would talk. And after, she would bring him here. A shiver of anticipation ran through her at the thought. The phone rang and Ava answered it, then smiled at Cassie. “The limo’s here.”
It was time to marry Marco and Cassie.
The bells of the 125-year-old Italian church on Prince Street pealed a joyous welcome as the white limousine approached. Ava pulled her wrap around her shoulders and lifted her delicate bouquet and Cassie’s from the opposite seat.
“This is it, sweetie. Are you ready?”
Cassie rubbed her tummy, easily concealed under several layers of silk and lace. “We both are.”
“Then let’s get the three of you married.” Ava smiled as the driver opened their door, and they gingerly stepped onto the sidewalk.
An icy wind lifted Cassie’s veil and Ava took her hand and guided the newest member of the Santori family up the stairs of St. Leonard’s. The church where her own parents were married and where Grandma Rose and Grandpa Mike were married. Where family traditions lived on. The thought warmed her against the bitter temperatures as the limo driver hurried to open the heavy mahogany door for the ladies in red and white.
The small crowd in the back gasped and fussed over the bride, and after many kisses, Cassie’s brothers escorted the last of the remaining guests to their seats. Cassie’s father, a redheaded Aussie who obviously gave Cassie her green eyes and sassy attitude, put his arms around both of them. “Everyone’s ready. When the music starts, you can go, Ava. Then I’ll take my little girl to her groom.”
The opening notes of Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” reverberated through the church. Ava took a deep breath and reached over and pressed her cheek against Cassie’s.
Cassie whispered into her ear, “Non ti spagnare.” Ava had to laugh a little at the Australian accent butc
hering the high Italian.
“I’m not. Don’t you be, either.”
Cassie glowed, anything but afraid. Ava blew a kiss to Cassie, then nodded to an usher who opened the door for her.
At the back of the darkened church, she took a deep breath and looked up to the altar. She could see Dane, resplendent in a black tuxedo, standing next to Dominic. Marco beamed from the center. Ava drank in the sight of the three men she loved most in the whole world. Her gaze moved to Dane and she began her long, slow walk. Dimly aware of flickering candles and the attention of two hundred people and vaguely conscious of the dramatic music, Ava squeezed the handle of her spray of white roses. Her attention never strayed from the aquamarine eyes that shone with love and certainty. When she reached the three stone steps to the altar, she climbed them slowly, then turned and sighed with the rest of the congregation as Cassie entered the church and began her wedding march to Marco.
Then they said their vows and made their promises.
To love, honor, and cherish. Over the bowed heads of the bride and groom, Dane watched her, his expression serious.
In sickness and in health. Their gazes remained locked as though a magnetic force refused to let either one of them look away.
For richer or poorer. Sparks flew from his blue-green eyes, and his mouth curled in the slightest smile.
Until death do us part. The sound of her own heart drowned out Cassie’s voice repeating the words of the priest.
“I pronounce you husband and wife.”
The guests broke into applause that echoed through the enormous church, but Ava and Dane just looked at each other. His lips moved ever so slightly with a silent message. I love you. She heard it as loud as if he had shouted it to the whole church.
The first two notes of Mendelssohn’s wedding march burst from the organ as Cassie and Marco turned to start their happy stroll back down the aisle as a married couple. Ava glanced at Dominic expectantly, remembering how they’d rehearsed their own departure.
But Dane took her father’s arm and whispered something in his ear.
Dominic flashed his black eyes at Ava in mock surprise, then smiled at Dane, put a hand on his back and gently nudged him toward her. As she slipped her fingers into the curve of his arm, he leaned his face close to hers.
“I hope you were paying attention,” he whispered.
They took the first few steps down to the aisle. “I was a little distracted.”
“Did you hear the part about love, honor, and cherish?”
“I think so.”
They made their way slowly down the aisle, their heads leaning toward each other as the dramatic and glorious notes of the wedding song rang in their ears.
“And you memorized the last line, right?” he asked as they reached the back of the church. A tender, heartbreaking smile broke over his face as he turned her to face him. “Till death do us part, Ava.”
The crowd swelled around them, emptying the church, moving toward the bride and groom. They stood like stones in the river as people glided past the two lovers who were unaware of anything but each other.
“Till death do us part,” she repeated. She took a breath to add something, but he put one finger over her lips.
“Don’t give me a speech, Ava. I love you, and I want to marry you and share my life with you, and make you the happiest woman in the world. Forever. Just say yes.”
“Oh, Dane, I love you. Yes! I—”
“Shh.” He pulled her closer, and his arms felt so strong and sure around her. “I want to kiss my bride.”
Epilogue
T he relentless July sun beat hard on the docks of St. Barts, the heat and humidity relieved only by the steady breeze that blew the ladies’ summer dresses and filled the sails of the massive ships resting in the Caribbean waters.
Dane gazed at the mix of islanders, the different shades of skin and hair, the vivid clothes, the brilliant blue of the water and the sky. A hush had fallen over the crowd, broken only by the soft words of the priest and a few whimpers from young Dominic Bartholomew Santori. Nico, as they called him, had evidently resigned himself to the fact that he’d been dunked and blessed and held by his godmother, instead of the familiar woman who brought him into the world.
Dane watched his wife soothe the baby, her fingers stroking the creamy cheeks, her body swaying in a slow rhythm that women seemed to be born to do. As always, he needed to touch her. He put his hand on Ava’s back, and she looked up at him. The glow from their weeks on a honeymoon in Italy still burnished her silky complexion. The fire that lit her eyes glowed as hot as ever.
She had to be thinking, as he was, of the day they had met on these docks. Of the sorrow and tragedy that brought them together. Of the joy and sense of wholeness that they now shared. He marveled at the journey they’d been on together and the adventure they were just beginning.
She looked so natural holding the baby, its tufts of black hair matching her own. Baby Nico, at less than two months old, had yet to really smile, so Dane was left to wonder whether his godson had inherited the trademark Santori dimple.
He would know as they watched him grow and gave him the gift of cousins, even though Cassie and Marco had decided to settle in Boston. Marco had moved naturally into Ava’s old job and Cassie seemed thrilled with the ever-present Santori clan to help raise their child. The Caribbean christening was timed to let them say good-bye to all the Utopians and arrange their new life in the States. Something told Dane that Marco and Cassie would come back to the islands. As soon as Marco had healed completely, as soon as he could sail again.
Dane and Ava had already planned to have another home in Boston so they could be certain their own children, although raised in the Caribbean, would know the tradition and roots of their century-old Italian family. And even spend some time in New York with the Eriksons, he thought with a wry smile. His parents. Ava’s latest project.
Dane ran his hand over the bare skin of her back, loving the feel of her, loving the strength and determination and fiery impulsive nature that made her so passionate. The wind blew her hair and lifted the edge of little Nico’s christening gown. As it did, Ava looked up at him.
“The southern wind,” he whispered to his wife.
“Don’t tell me: Odin is happy.”
“I don’t know.” He smiled. “But I am.”
Author’s Note
TROPICAL GETAWAY is based on a real-life event. In November of 1998, the S/V Fantome, part of the famous Windjammer Barefoot Cruise fleet, had disembarked its passengers in Belize at the first signs of Hurricane Mitch. Thirty-one men stayed on board to chart a path in the opposite direction and make a hasty retreat, which is standard procedure for sailing vessels. Unfortunately, Hurricane Mitch changed its course, defying meteorologists as it turned south. The hurricane headed straight for the Fantome, and the ship and its crew were lost.
Attorneys immediately began to circle, looking for blood and retribution. They accused the company of deliberately navigating the ship to its certain death, and promised the grieving families million-dollar settlements. Eventually the unfounded lawsuits were dropped and the little cruise company could finally try to heal from its gaping wound.
The story of the Fantome haunted me as much as its name, which is French for “ghost.” I was especially moved by the love story of the Fantome’s captain who died and never married the sweet British girl who worked as a housekeeper on board the ship.
From the devastating loss of Fantome, I was inspired to write tropical getaway. In fiction, there is love, hope, and answers. My own real-life experience of losing my home in Hurricane Andrew in 1992 added to my ability to describe the results of such devastation. More than anything, I pray that the thirty-one souls lost on the Fantome are at peace and that their loved ones have found comfort. My story is completely fictional. My characters are from my imagination. My ending, more than anything, is far happier than reality.
Dear Reader:
Welcome to the exciti
ng world of Bon Voyage romances!
Have you ever longed to sail on a luxury ship in the Caribbean, with the wind blowing through your hair, and a steel band playing a tropical beat on deck as you dance with a dangerously attractive man? Or to meander the misty emerald hills of Ireland as a handsome stranger whispers sweet nothings in your ear in a delightful brogue? Or to sit at a tiny table for two in a Roman plaza at dusk, gazing into the eyes of a tall, dark, mysterious man as a singer croons a plaintive Italian love song?
Everyone loves traveling to romantic, exotic destinations—even if only in their imagination—and Bon Voyage will take you away to the lands of all your fantasies. Sexy modern English dukes, romantic evenings in Paris, the sun-drenched coast of Greece…Love knows no bounds, so we’re expanding the world of romance, bringing you irresistible contemporary love stories from all over the world.
Turn the page to get a taste of our next romance, The Last Bride in Ballymuir by Dorien Kelly, where Miss Kylie “Soon-to-Be-a-Saint” O’Shea gets involved with a dangerous stranger who awakens her dreams and desires. And in July, look for That’s Amore by Carol Grace, where newly divorced Anne Marie Jackson innocently becomes entangled with international jewel thieves, and a sexy Italian detective suspects her of being an accomplice—her calm, predictable life has never been so exciting!
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Micki Nuding
Senior Editor
Pocket Star Books
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The Last Bride in Ballymuir
Dorien Kelly
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