Page 31 of Dare to Surrender (NY Dares 1)
“I’m Joely, and I’m your pilot.” She extended her hand, and I took it. Her no-nonsense grip was at odds with her entire appearance.
She was about my age with light brown, wavy hair, and her uniform, if you could call it that, consisted of khaki shorts and a black polo shirt. I could more easily picture her as an island guide than the woman who would be flying this plane. I played with the pearls at my neck, trying not to show my panic, which had only increased upon meeting her.
“Are you okay?” she asked perceptively.
I nodded. “Do you mind if I ask how old you are?” I blurted out.
She grinned. “Old enough to fly this baby, I promise. I’m a mechanic, and I have experience as a bush pilot. You’re in safe hands.” She waved hers in the air.
Her confidence inspired more in me. “Okay, then. I hope I didn’t insult you.”
She shook her head. “Nope. Don’t worry, I get those questions a lot. So are you ready?”
I glanced around the empty inside of the vehicle. “I’m the only passenger?”
The other woman nodded. “It’s a fast two-hour trip, so buckle up, and we’ll get going.”
I did as instructed. I still can’t figure out whether I was grateful for the loud noise that surrounded us inside, preventing conversation, or if it frightened me more. I only know that I passed the two hours with a white-knuckle grip on the armrests, and I’d never been happier to see land.
The island I viewed out the window was nothing like I’d imagined. The greenery spread out as far as the eye could see, and jutting out from the lushness below, an Irish castle of gray stone sat looking majestic and regal in the distance.
I exited onto a long dock, grateful to be on the ground at last. I waved at Joely, who grinned and promised to return for me when my time was up. I had no idea when that would be.
Even though I was used to Manhattan in the summertime, the island humidity and heat swept over me, and I regretted choosing a pair of silk slacks, like I’d wear to work, and a tank top, which already clung to my breasts.
Alone on the dock, I fingered the pearls around my neck and looked around, relieved when a man strode toward me. As he drew closer, I realized he wore a cloak of some kind over his head, obscuring his face.
“Isabelle?” he said, sounding sure of my identity, as he extended his hand.
“Yes.”
“Welcome to Eden.”
“I knew immediately he was the
elusive Master of the island.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Enjoy your time here.”
I glanced up at the fantastical castle I’d seen from the air and smiled. “I’m sure I will.” I turned to address him again, but strangely, he’d disappeared.
Before I could contemplate that oddity further, a woman approached from the pathway opposite the one the Master had taken. She wore a pair of simple silk khaki drawstring pants and a white sleeveless top, her name tag identifying her as Connie Hendrickson. Dark brown hair had been pulled into a work-friendly, island-necessary bun, keeping her hair off her neck.
She was attractive with a warm smile. “Isabelle,” she said with the same familiarity everyone associated with this place had used. “Welcome to Eden. If you will come with me, I will show you to your room. Your bags will be brought up shortly.”
“Has Lucy Dare checked in yet?” I asked, following her up a narrow, winding pathway.
She turned, her eyes narrowed in confusion. “I don’t recognize that guest’s name. The Master has placed you in the penthouse,” she went on, as if my question hadn’t been asked.
“There must be some mistake. I’m here to work. To help decorate the new club opening on the island. Elite?”
The other woman shook her head. I’d obviously asked another question she wasn’t aware of the answer to. “I assure you there are no mistakes made here. You’re in the penthouse.” Again, she’d ignored my inquiry.
As we approached the castle, sliding glass doors immediately opened for us, and a blast of cool air assaulted me from inside. I gratefully stepped into what was clearly a lobby. It was darker than I’d expected, and I pulled my sunglasses off, allowing my eyes to adjust as I looked around. Dimly lit sconces adorned the mirrored walls, but I couldn’t see myself in what must be tempered glass.
“We’ve recently upgraded the room keys, so if you’ll just give me your hand,” Connie said, capturing my attention.
