Chapter 18
Mia’s reckless surfer friend was admitted to the hospital for an overnight stay for monitoring. By the time the doctors had made that determination, everyone was exhausted, including Lincoln.
Zara called her friend Marley to check in on Eddie.
He had fallen asleep after a dinner of tacos and was safely tucked into bed.
Zara’s eyes had deep shadows underneath, and poor Mia looked vaguely like a drowning owl with her smudged mascara.
The rain was still coming down hard, and night had fallen, which would make driving conditions even worse.
So he took a deep breath and invited them to stay in his hotel suite that night. “My suite had three bedrooms, so there’s plenty of room,” he told Zara.
She was apparently drained enough to accept without much hesitation. “But you’re going to have to explain to Mia why you’re staying in the third-most expensive hotel in Kona,” she murmured. “I’m running on fumes here.”
They drove to the Seaside Paradise in exhausted silence. When he handed the keys to the valet and helped Mia out of the Mercedes, he said, as casually as he could, “Mia, I should inform you that I’m not actually a gardener. My name is Lincoln Kerr.”
She blinked at him through drenched eyelashes. Not only had she dove into the ocean to rescue her friend, but she’d run through torrential rain several times. Her eyelashes might never dry.
“Okay…” she said dubiously. “And you can afford a place like this?”
“I can.”
“And you want us to stay here? Don’t you know about our family?”
“They’ll be lucky to have you here,” he said gallantly. “You’re a hero. You probably saved Dave’s life.”
“Oh, I definitely did.” She brightened at that praise and stole a sidelong glance at Zara, who still hadn’t said much.
Lincoln knew she must be feeling all sorts of things—anger at Mia’s impulsive actions, pride in her bravery, relief that her only injury was from a sea urchin spine embedded in the side of her foot.
Zara said nothing, simply gestured for her to precede them into the hotel.
The two of them stood, dripping water onto the marble lobby floor, while Lincoln added them to his reservation and got key cards for them.
“Are you hungry?” he asked them. He didn’t wait for an answer; of course they were. He told the concierge to send up burgers and fries for everyone. The kitchen was already closed, but a stack of hundred-dollar bills took care of that.
He smiled to himself as he thought that bribery was the only thing he used cash for anymore. There was nothing like handing over hundreds to pave your way.
Zara had seen the whole thing, but made no comment. Maybe she didn’t mind him stepping in to take care of her sister.
In the penthouse suite, Mia spent some time twirling around, oohing and ahhing over the three big-screen TVs, the extensively stocked minibar, and the view of…well, mostly of rain lashing the windows. Then she disappeared into the shower.
Lincoln stood by the window, watching the fury of the cyclone outside the glass.
He’d never seen anything quite like this storm.
Or anything quite like Zara when she emerged from her own shower with her hair freshly toweled off, hanging in loose damp waves past her shoulders.
She’d changed into the fluffy white bathrobe provided by the hotel.
“I hung my clothes up to dry in the bathroom, but I might need to use the hairdryer on them,” she sighed.
He turned to face her, his back to the drama raging outside. “Let me call housekeeping—”
“No,” she interrupted firmly. “I’m sure they have enough to do, and they’re all probably worried about their families with this storm. My clothes can dry on their own, and if they don’t, it won’t be the first time I’ve worn damp clothes. Happens all the time after surfing.”
He drew in a deep breath. “Listen, Zara—”
“It’s okay.” She sank down on the couch and crossed her legs at the ankles. Very distracting legs, they were, with her tanned skin, that scar, those blue-painted toenails. “You can skip the explanations. I’ve come up with a number of theories, I bet at least one of them is correct.”
“I doubt that,” he said dryly
“Don’t worry, I’ve crossed ‘alien trying to figure out human behavior’ off the list.”
Ironically, that one came close, in a way. It wasn’t his purpose at the resort, but it had been a side benefit he’d never anticipated. He walked over to the seating area and dropped onto the couch with her—the other end of the couch so as not to crowd her. He knew he wasn’t entirely forgiven yet.
“Okay, let’s hear it. Top five theories.”
“Five, you lost a bet. Four, you were spying on a business competitor.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Three, you wanted to prove you could handle a real job. Two, you’re considering purchasing the resort and wanted an inside view before you invested.”
“Not bad.” He lifted an eyebrow at her in acknowledgement of her cleverness.
“And number one?”
“You lost something at the resort and it seemed like a good way to search for it.”
He startled.
She pounced on his reaction, changing her position so she was on her knees, facing him, bathrobe tucked around her. “I nailed it, didn’t I? Don’t lie to me, now.”
“You’re…close,” he admitted. God, he wished he could just tell her. Her honey eyes were wide with curiosity and alive with intelligence.
Maybe she could help him. She knew the Royal Leilani inside and out, and she knew everything about Kona, too, both from a local’s perspective and a concierge’s.
“I lost a piece of intellectual property at the resort. It’s extremely valuable, and I don’t want it to get into the wrong hands. I was hoping to find it before that happened.”
“Like that Japanese guy? Those wrong hands?”
“Yes, for example.” There could be others, but he didn’t want to scare her too much.
“Or your sister’s?”
“She doesn’t know anything about it. She was here on other business.”
“She was a little insulting,” Zara said thoughtfully. “I didn’t understand why at first, but now I do. She thought I was after your money.”
He waved a hand. “Her opinion doesn’t matter.”
Zara snorted. “I dare you to tell her that.”
That got a laugh out of him.
“She doesn’t look like you. It never occurred to me she might be your sister.”
“Half-sister,” he corrected. “We have the same mother, but my father is Korean. Maureen is a handful. I’m sorry you had to deal with her.”
“You mean, you’re sorry I followed her and got myself into trouble?” she said wryly. “I really can’t put the blame of that on you. I have a tendency to rush into sticky situations without thinking them through.”
“Really?” he asked dryly. “Have you ever heard that saying that a person’s greatest strength is also their greatest weakness?”
She shook her head. “You’re saying that my recklessness is also my greatest strength?”
“Maybe it is. I appreciate it. You probably wouldn’t have had anything to do with me if you weren’t a little reckless.
I don’t even know if that’s the right word.
” He cocked his head as he absorbed every detail of her tousled, damp, bright-eyed appearance.
The fragrance of expensive shower gel rose from her skin. “I like open-hearted better. Carefree.”
Her pretty lips twitched in a smile. “Ironic,” she said softly. “If you knew more about me, you’d know I can’t ever be completely carefree. But you’re right, that is my nature.”
She was probably referring to her father, but she had no idea that he knew about Lucky Lou and his current address.
“What’s your greatest strength slash weakness?” she asked him, then added lightly, “Being a billionaire?”
He flinched involuntarily. “That’s not how I define myself.”
“Then how?”
No one had ever asked him such a personal question. Not even his ex-wives. He’d always had so many walls up that he never revealed much beneath the surface. They hadn’t asked, but even if they had, he would have frozen them out and never answered.
But he didn’t want to freeze out Zara.
Scratch that. He couldn’t, any more than he could freeze out the sun.
“Lonely,” he said softly.
She kept her gaze on him, not a whiff of judgement to be seen in her wide honey eyes.
“I was…am…illegitimate. My mother had an affair with my father, and it cost her. Her feelings towards me were always ambivalent. I didn’t really understand why people looked at me like I wasn’t one of them, not until later.
I dedicated myself to making money as a kind of shell.
I was very good at it. People looked at me differently once I made my first billion, but I didn’t feel any different.
I still needed to prove myself. I still feel like an outcast. Maybe I always will. ”
She ran her fingers through her damp hair. “I guess we have something in common, then. My family’s last name might as well be ‘outcast.’ That’s why Mia’s doing homeschooling right now. She’s been getting bullied at school.”
His jaw set. The idea of anyone going after Mia, with all her bravery and the sweetness shining through her Wednesday Addams facade, made him want to hurl something against the wall. “Because of your father?” he asked before he caught himself.
“You know? Oh God. I should have figured.” Groaning, she dropped her head into her hands.
He leaned toward her to offer reassurance of some kind, but her moment of embarrassment didn’t last long.
She lifted her head and speared him with her bright gaze.
“Yes, my father is a lifelong con man. He’s currently in prison, and it’s not the first time.
He can be charming when he wants to be, but he’s incapable of following rules of any kind, and he doesn’t seem to understand that embezzling and fraud hurts people. To him it’s all a game.”
He was very familiar with that mindset, having encountered it on a regular basis in the financial world. “I looked at his case. I don’t see much difference between him and most of the billionaires I encounter.”
She laughed. “That’s what he says. If you ask him, his problem is that he’s not ruthless enough. He claims that’s because he smokes too much pot and can’t be bothered to be ruthless.”
“He’s not necessarily wrong about the ruthless part. Not that I’m taking his side,” he added quickly, “since you, Mia and Eddie are paying the price.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “I feel so bad for Mia,” she whispered. “I remember what it was like to be her age and start to understand that your father is someone people see as a criminal. Because, well, he is one. He’s the reason I can’t stand lies. I grew up with so many of them.”
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I wasn’t aiming to deceive you. I’d never want to do that. I kissed you because…well, because I was afraid that after you knew, everything would be different. And it is.”
She nodded sadly. “It is.”
Damn it. He wanted to take her into his arms and kiss away those tears. The day had been so long and exhausting, and all he wanted was to whisk her into his bedroom and cocoon her in soft, luxurious feather down and keep anything from ever causing her pain again.
Then, of all things, a smile blossomed on her face, like a seedling that would always seek the sun.
“Greatest strength, greatest weakness…here’s one of mine.
You said I’m openhearted and that’s true.
It gets me into trouble, like the fact that I’m sitting with you here right now.
But I always believe things will get better.
You have to keep laughing, you have to keep having fun.
Otherwise, what are we even doing here?”
She spread open her hands in a shrugging question.
He thought about his own life, how…beige it felt, looking back.
Beige buildings, or sometimes gray. Beige interiors—offices, planes, conference rooms. So many computer screens.
So many numbers flying by. Pixels that formed numbers that represented the growth of his wealth.
That was where his attention had been focused for most of his life.
Except for the CHUM.
The CHUM was different. It was unique, something entirely new that had caught his eye in a footnote in a report from a mining operation. Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to it. Not because of how much profit it could bring. Because it was…
Magical.
Just like Zara.