Chapter 26
The small speedboat that had picked up Mathilda and Philip Phelps passed Pololu Valley, then rounded the northern tip of the Big Island.
Mathilda had never witnessed the island from sea level, and the sight was breathtaking.
The northeastern coast featured the deeply cut, lush green valleys that she knew intimately from the inside, but were even more spectacular from this angle.
At the shoreline, lava cliffs formed fantastical shapes thanks to the constant pounding of the ocean surf.
From high on the slopes, waterfalls plunged hundreds of feet.
The landscape was so stunning that she occasionally forgot she’d been coerced into this boat ride. But the thought of Rory stuck back there with all those dangerous people never left her mind. She had no idea if Philip Phelps’ bit of information would help him or not.
He’s smart, she kept telling herself. He’d landed on his feet so far. Maybe this would be just one more crazy episode on the craziest trip to Hawaii there ever was. He’d tell the story to his brother in his residential home, or his grandmother over a pot of jasmine tea.
Her heart ached to touch him one more time, to look into those dark eyes and see that intimate smile just for her. Jeez, she was down bad.
I’m in love.
The thought flashed through her mind in bright neon lights.
I’m in love with Rory.
Holy shit. It was absolutely true, and yet completely pointless.
In her current situation, she wasn’t sure how much of a choice she was actually going to have.
Would Philip Phelps really be kidnapping her if there was a chance she’d say no to Duncan?
They must have some extra tricks up their sleeves, even beyond the extremely persuasive reasons that already existed.
Excellent timing, she scolded herself. Why couldn’t she have fallen in love a couple of years ago, maybe with someone who wasn’t caught up in billionaire shenanigans?
Why couldn’t she have given herself some time to really establish a relationship, to confirm that her feelings were real and not just the result of a high-pressure crisis situation?
Oh no. No no, not Mathilda Wheeler. Mathilda Wheeler had to leave it to the last minute and then just wing it.
Inside the cabin, safe from the untidy wind, Philip Phelps was going over some paperwork. She made her way inside and sat across from him. He barely glanced up at her. Since giving her a sandwich after they’d first boarded, he hadn’t said much.
“Are we on our way to meet Duncan Aberdeen?” she asked, since that was the only thing that made sense to her. “Why didn’t he come find me in the jungle?”
“He’s afraid of snakes.”
“Hawaii doesn’t have any snakes.”
“He didn’t want to get bitten by a spider.”
“No poisonous spiders either.”
“Scorpions? Wild monkeys?”
Mathilda rolled her eyes. “We have pretty much the safest jungle you can ask for. There’s nothing that’s going to kill you, not counting humans.
Even the centipedes don’t cause harm, they’re just very very painful.
Bacteria, I suppose. The odd virus or parasite or…
” She shook herself out of her listing of Hawaii hazards.
None of that mattered now. “So he sent you into the jungle to…what, feel me out?”
“Deliver the letter. Gauge your reaction. He’s waiting at a resort near Kona. He wants to meet in person.”
Then maybe he should have grown a pair and hiked to the camp.
“Fine. I look forward to our meeting,” she said stiffly.
He muttered something she couldn’t hear. Uh oh. There was more, wasn’t there? “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Duncan wanted to make a grand gesture. He wanted everything to be ready in case you said yes.”
“Ready? Oh. You mean, like the paperwork? Marriage contracts and all that? Let me guess, there’s a whole posse of lawyers standing by.”
“Mmmm. As much as I revere the legal profession, I promise you it’s something more pleasant than that.”
He refused to say any more, no matter how much she begged. Apparently Duncan really wanted it to be a surprise.
Sweet, she supposed. Depending on the surprise.
The speedboat took them to a marina just north of Kona.
It was midafternoon by now. She looked longingly at the pebbly beach outside the breakwater.
She’d been hoping to go for a swim at the Waipi’o black-sand beach…
that was one of the favorite expeditions of the research camp crew.
She wondered how everyone was doing, whether they’d gotten her note, if anyone missed her.
The jungle felt very far away right now.
The Kona side of the island had an entirely different climate, dry as a desert.
It was hard to believe it was the same island as the dynamic green jungle she’d come from.
She knew it rarely rained here, making it perfect for growing coffee and entertaining tourists.
Almost every day was a beach day here, unless a storm came through and wreaked havoc with the beautiful white-sand beaches.
White sand. Imagine that. On the other side, the beaches were black sand, and the sand was actually formed by molten lava shattering into billions of tiny pieces when it hit the ocean. Or so Cody the volcanologist had explained to her.
Lord, she already missed her fellow grad students. Where was Bjorn to explain the botany of the thorny kiawe trees? And Robert to tell her a myth about how they’d been planted by a Catholic priest to make the Hawaiians wear shoes, when it was actually for shade?
When she spotted a saffron finch, she nearly cried at the familiar sight of the brilliant yellow bird. This wasn’t completely foreign territory. It was still the Big Island of Hawaii. Even though the jungle felt a world away, in truth, it was probably only a fifty-mile hike back to the camp.
A driver picked them up in a black SUV with tinted windows and took them to a resort she’d never heard of before, one so exclusive it hid behind royal palms and an avalanche of bougainvillea.
Instead of heading for the main building, Philip Phelps led her down a path lined with palm trees to one of the resort’s private cottages.
It must have its own pool, barely visible from the front; she could hear people splashing around in the water.
Had Duncan brought some friends with him? Proposal slash boys weekend in Hawaii?
“Here we are, then,” Phelps said as he pushed open the door. “Duncan, dear boy, we have arrived.”
A tall, wide-shouldered young man with a charming smile came toward them. His eyes were summertime blue, his manner carefree. He stopped in front of Mathilda and performed a graceful bow. “I’m thrilled to meet you, Mathilda Wheeler.”
She wanted to tell him to tone it down. Instead she smiled politely. “How do you do?” She winced as the words left her mouth. That was what British people said, not scrappy ornithologists who’d just left the jungle.
“You both look like you’ve been through a whirlwind.” Duncan’s smile turned sympathetic. “Did you run into trouble?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Phelps assured him. “But Ms. Wheeler would probably appreciate a shower.”
“Deeply,” Mathilda agreed, from the bottom of her heart. “Unfortunately, my backpack got lost along the way.”
“Say no more.” Duncan held up a hand. “I’ll call the concierge. They can send some clothes round. I’m sure they handle emergencies like this all the time.”
Probably not exactly “like this,” Mathilda thought. But she’d take any assistance they offered.
“I must alert you to a surprise I’ve cooked up,” Duncan was saying, before someone interrupted.
“My darling!”
Mathilda spun toward the sound of her mother’s voice. Dressed in a filmy beach coverup printed with parrots, with large black sunglasses on top of her head, Charlotte Spencer-Sutton glided through the sliding doors that opened onto the cottage’s backyard.
“Mom? Why are you...Daddy?”
Mark Wheeler followed close behind his wife.
His skin was already gold from the sun. Without the smears of zinc oxide on his face, he would have looked like a silver fox swimwear model.
“Hi sweetheart. You look…” He paused, taking in the full disaster of her appearance, then shifted gears. “It’s wonderful to see you.”
He gingerly leaned in to peck her on the cheek.
“Hey Matty.” Her little brother Jamie appeared behind her dad.
Little as in “younger” … not in size. Every time she saw him, he’d shot up another couple of inches.
They’d never had much in common, since he’d been baseball-mad since the age of eight.
Also, he was six years younger than she was, an awkward age difference that always put them in different phases of life.
She wasn’t sure what phase he was in now; her attempts to communicate always seemed to hit a wall.
“Hi Jamie. Wow.” She surveyed her family. “You’re in Hawaii. All of you. In resort-wear.”
Her brother was wearing crisp linen shorts and a pink unbuttoned shirt over his still-pale torso.
“This stuff came with the place.” Her brother glanced at Duncan, who gave him a princely nod. Maybe her brother had a new role model in the glamorous Duncan.
“Well, welcome to Hawaii.” She eyed her family members with suspicion. Sure, they looked like innocent vacationers. But they hadn’t shown up here just for the pool time. “Please don’t tell me all you’re here for a hypothetical wedding.”
Her parents exchanged one of those glances that meant they were carrying on an entire conversation no one else could hear.
“The stars are aligning,” said her father. “We’ve never been to visit, and it seemed like the perfect time. But your future is up to you. All we want is for you to be happy with your choice, whatever it is. Why don’t you go clean up? You’ll feel so much better.”
“Okay, Daddy.”