Page 81 of Caught Up In You (Indigo Royal Resort)
Leona sighed. Ca
rmella was right. Policy stated that the Head of Housekeeping, or another manager on duty if she wasn't there, was to be called to make the official judgment on items left behind by guests. The four pairs of socks, while nice, were well under the hundred-dollar value limit set by the hotel as the point at which they contacted the customer. There was a large cache of power cords and other miscellaneous electronic items locked in her office that they had saved, just in case someone realized it and came back, or should anyone need one in the future. More often than not, things were simply tossed, since tracking down a guest and then shipping the item back internationally weren’t easy or cheap.
The beep of a text message as she had walked out resulted in a not-so-internal groan escaping her lips. What now? she’d thought. Saturdays were exhausting, no matter which way you looked at them, and after the emotional roller coaster she’d been on this week and all the tequila she and Dalton had consumed last night, she didn’t have much wiggle room in her mood today. She had told herself this morning when she woke up, thankfully without a hangover, that she wasn’t going to let herself think of Cullen at all today, that she was going to focus solely on whatever this changeover day threw at her. Unfortunately, the first thing it threw at her was a reminder that La Isla Bonita needed to be changed over for new guests arriving tomorrow. She officially couldn’t put it off any longer.
She pulled her phone from her back pocket to find a text from Grayson.
Grayson: Need help. Meet me in Vaughn’s office?
The lobby was thankfully mostly clear at the moment, with only a few guests standing at the check-in area. She slipped behind the desk, trying not to disturb Julie and the other front desk clerks as she rounded the little corner that led to Vaughn’s office door. The door was open, so she walked right in to find Grayson sitting at the desk typing away on his phone.
“What’s up, Uncle Gray?” she asked.
He looked up from his phone and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her.
“I know I'm asking the wrong person on the wrong day, but I need a favor,” he said. “I need you to please run next door to the old Riggs place.”
“Why? What’s over there?” she asked, curious what on earth he could need from an empty old house.
“They have found a buyer, and the guy is willing to entertain the idea of selling us a corner of the lot like we’ve been trying for, and he’s drawn up a proposal. So I need someone to go pick it up while they are all over there.”
“They can’t just email it?”
“Guy is apparently old school and likes his paper,” he shrugged. “I’ve got to meet the mechanic down at the marina because Kyle is out on a tour. Vaughn is waist deep in something. Miller…well, Miller doesn’t ever leave the kitchen. I know asking the housekeeping manager to leave the resort on a changeover day is not optimal, but you’re the only manager I can spare at the moment and since it’s legal paperwork, I don’t want to send just anyone.”
“It’s fine, I’ll head over right now. I’ll be gone ten minutes. What do you want me to do with the paperwork when I get back?”
“Just lock it in your desk for now. Vaughn or I will get it from you later.”
The long dirt drive that led to the big old house on the Riggs estate was in desperate need of grading, and the washboard surface that was left made for a borderline uncomfortable ride in Leona’s old sedan. It had been years since she’d set foot on this property, and she actually couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen anyone over here. In high school, every now and again some of the boys would kick a ball around the large field that took up the entire front portion of the lot, since the house was set back toward the beach. The house had sat completely empty, without any kind of visitor, for the majority of her life, and she’d always considered it a waste that no one was enjoying such an amazing piece of property. When the for sale sign had gone up a few weeks back, her first thought had been that maybe some new owners could breathe some life back into the property. As long as it wasn’t another resort that opened.
Pulling up to the large, traditional Caribbean-style house, she saw a white SUV parked by the unattached garage. She parked next to it, figuring it to be the rental of the new buyer who must be inside the house. Getting out of her car and walking toward the villa, she took a moment to take in the structure. The single-level home had a gray stucco outside that was cracked in places and needed a coat of paint, but otherwise was not in horrible shape. She knew from the real estate listings she’d looked up online when she’d first seen the for sale sign pop up that it was almost four thousand square feet, playing host to five bedrooms and six bathrooms, and opened to a seaside deck complete with a pool and views out over the beach. Oh, and it had a front courtyard that was housed behind eight-foot walls to ensure privacy. The pictures of the inside had shown that it was once very nice, but now was dated and in need of some repairs. That was, if whoever bought it didn’t simply level it and start over.
She walked through the archway into the courtyard, looking around for whomever was supposed to be waiting on her. The only thing she found was an old, rusted set of table and chairs, so she turned and walked through another archway that led to the front door of the villa. There was no answer when she knocked, so she tried the door handle. Finding it unlocked, she opened it and let herself in, calling out, asking if anyone was there.
“Out back,” she heard a voice call. It was hard to hear over the breeze that whooshed the door when she opened it.
For as big as this house was, it had a lot of walls to it still, giving it a very closed-off feel. The new owner would certainly want to knock these down as part of their remodel. When she finally found the set of French doors that opened to the back deck from what she assumed was the “large living room,” she walked out into the sun to find the new buyer standing there, facing the beach.
Even with his back to her, she knew it was him. She'd memorized the landscape of his back long ago, even before they’d become more. But even if she hadn’t, the tattoos peeking out from under his shirtsleeve would have been a dead giveaway.
Before she could stop herself, she let out a little gasp of surprise, freezing in place. What was he doing here? Did he buy this place?
He turned around as she raised her right hand to cover her mouth, still shocked that it was him standing before her. He was supposed to be in Atlanta, starting his new life. Not standing before her on a dingy, decaying deck. Her heart started to beat faster at the sight of him, and even faster still when he started to walk toward her.
“Menina,” he said softly.
The nickname had stopped annoying her sometime in the weeks past when she realized he had been calling her that simply as a way to hide his attraction to her all these years. But hearing it now, this was the first time she’d ever been comforted by it. She hadn’t realized she’d gotten so used to hearing the way his accent transformed the word or just how much she had missed it.
She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She was so shocked, her thoughts moving rapid-fire through her head, that she couldn’t stop them long enough to form words. Instead, he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in until her body was flush with his. A broad, impish grin appeared on his face as he looked down at her, causing her to suck in a breath. He leaned down, quickly capturing her lips with his. He kissed her hard and deep, pulling her body impossibly closer to his. Her hands found his well-muscled back and held on tight, afraid that somehow he was still just a figment of her imagination. She could feel his kiss all the way down to her toes, and suddenly it was like nothing else on earth mattered. No kiss had ever compared to this one, even the ones from the other night in the spa, which, at the time, she had been sure nothing was ever going to live up to. She had been very wrong.
When he finally pulled back from the kiss, she let out a sound of disappointment. It took her a moment to regain all her sense, and she was glad he hadn't fully stepped away from her, out of fear her knees might give way after that kiss.
Once she was back in her right mind, she looked up at him. He was still there, with that same impish grin on his gorgeous face.
“You’re supposed to be in Atlanta,” she finally said.
“Don’t tell me you’re not happy to see me,” he said, laughing.
