Her Holiday Miracle

Praise for Joanna Neil

‘ … a well-written romance set in the beautiful Caribbean.’

—HarlequinJunkie on Temptation in Paradise

‘I really enjoyed this read. Sometimes the tension between Matt and Saffi was simply crackling … If you enjoy Medicals this is a good, solid read … well worth it.’

—HarlequinJunkie on A Doctor to Remember

‘You can’t stay here. I won’t let you.’

‘Oh, really?’ She raised her brows. ‘I don’t see that you have a choice. It’s my decision to make, not yours.’

‘Is it? Maybe I can persuade you otherwise …’

Before Rebecca had time to realise Cade’s intention he swooped, claiming her mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss that caused the blood to course through her body in an overwhelming tide of heat. Her lips parted beneath the sensual onslaught and she clung to him as her limbs responded by trembling under the passionate intensity of his embrace.

It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. His kisses made her feverish with desire, the touch of his hands turned her flesh to fire as they shaped her curves, leaving her desperate for more. It was so unexpected, such a coaxing, tantalising raid on her defences. Her resistance crumbled. She wanted to stay here, locked in his arms, having him hold her, his long, hard body pressuring hers and promising her heaven on earth.

Dear Reader,

What better place is there to while away the hours than on a beautiful Caribbean island? The gentle lap of surf on the sand, palm trees swaying in a soft, warm breeze … In this idyllic setting a girl can surely soak up the sun and forget her troubles.

Or can she? Setbacks in the form of a tropical storm and its aftermath might not present too great a problem—but when it comes to dealing with an incredibly good-looking plantation owner set on keeping her away from his equally handsome young cousin, what’s a girl to do? How can she possibly resist his all-out charm offensive?

There’s only one option when temptation arises in Paradise … isn’t there?

I hope you enjoy reading my latest book …

With love,

Joanna

JOANNA NEIL loves writing romance and has written more than sixty books for Harlequin Mills & Boon. Before her writing career started she had a variety of jobs, which included being a telephonist, a clerk, as well as nursing and work in a hospital pharmacy. She was an infant teacher for a number of years before her love of writing took over. Her hobbies include dressmaking, cooking and gardening.

Her Holiday Miracle

Joanna Neil

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Praise for Joanna Neil

Excerpt

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

EPILOGUE

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

AT LAST. REBECCA GAVE a soft sigh of relief as a sixty-foot-long catamaran smoothly eased into position alongside the dock. The sound of calypso music came from on board, floating on the air waves towards her, and her spirits lifted in an instant. She’d been patiently standing in the queue for some time, wilting in the heat despite her light camisole top and loose cotton skirt, but now there was an end in sight. She would soon be on the last part of her journey to the beautiful Caribbean island of St Marie-Rose.

Just up ahead of her a man straightened as the boat approached. She’d noticed him earlier—in fact there was no way she could have missed him. He had midnight-black hair and sculpted, lightly tanned features, and he stood out from the crowd—tall, muscular, supremely fit-looking, wearing pale chinos and a white T-shirt that outlined broad shoulders and well-muscled biceps. He’d been looking around, taking in his surroundings. Presently, though, he seemed preoccupied, deep in thought, not at all like the others who lined the quayside.

Perhaps he felt her glance resting on him just then, because he half turned towards her and looked directly at her, his dark gaze meshing with hers for a heart-stopping instant. His eyes widened and his glance moved over her, taking in her slender yet curvaceous figure, the long copper-coloured hair that tumbled past her shoulders in a mass of unruly curls. All at once he seemed stunned, as though he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Heat swept along her cheekbones and she looked away, embarrassed for her own part to have been caught staring. Somehow she hadn’t seemed able to help herself … there was just something about him … He probably wasn’t a tourist, she decided. There was nothing of the loose-limbed, laid-back sunseeker about him.

Actually, much the same could be said of her right now. She didn’t feel at all touristy. After being cooped up in an aeroplane for almost a dozen hours, followed by a short taxi ride to this port, she was more than ready for the last leg of her journey. At least she hoped this was the last leg. It was already late afternoon, and she really wanted to arrive at the house before nightfall. With any luck her sister, Emma, would be there to greet her. She smiled, a thrill of excitement running through her at the prospect—it would be so good to see Emma again.

Up to now, though, nothing had gone quite to plan—instead of flying directly to the island she’d found herself stranded here, on the verdant, equally lovely tropical island of Martinique, waiting for a ferry to take her across the sparkling blue sea to her final destination.

The people in the queue began to move slowly forward. ‘Ah, looks like we’re boarding at last,’ someone said behind her. ‘Finally!’

It was a male voice. She turned to glance at him. He was a young man—in his mid-twenties, she guessed, much the same as herself. She was twenty-six. He had blond hair and blue eyes, and a ready smile. Dressed for the heat, he wore three-quarter-length shorts and a T-shirt. Clearly he was in a good mood—most likely returning with his friends from a day trip to Martinique. The three young men with him were chatting to one another, lively and exuberant.

He returned her gaze and waved a hand towards the boat. ‘Shall we? I’m William, by the way. William Tempest.’

He looked at her questioningly and she responded in a soft voice, ‘Rebecca … Rebecca Flynn … most people call me Becky.’

‘Hi, Becky. We should be able to get some refreshments on board. Perhaps I could buy you a drink? I’m not hitting on you,’ he hastened to explain. ‘Well, maybe I would in different circumstances. It’s just that I noticed earlier you were looking a bit fed up and I thought maybe you could do with something to cool you down and perk you up—perhaps an iced juice of some sort—they do a good orange and mango mix?’

‘Do they?’ So he’d noticed her wilting. What was it that had given her away? Was it her hot cheeks or the way her curls clung damply to her temples? She should have taken the time to pin her hair back while she was on the plane.

She’d no experience of the facilities on board ferries in the Caribbean, but now she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue in anticipation.

‘A cold drink sounds wonderful. I’d like that.’ She added as an afterthought, ‘This whole thing is a bit of an adventure for me.’

‘Are you here on holiday?’

‘Sort of. More of an extended break, shall we say? Things were getting me down back home and I needed to get away.’

‘Really? I’m sorry. I feel a bit that way, too. I’ve had a break-up with my girlfriend … it was really hard to take. It was a while ago, and I keep trying to put it all behind me, but it’s difficult.’

‘Yes. I know how that feels.’

Together, chatting amiably, they walked the short distance along the quay to the boarding ramp and stepped on to the deck of the boat.

It was strange … She didn’t know him from Adam, but she liked him instantly, in a platonic, unthreatening kind of way. All her usual English reserve seemed to be disappearing fast—melting away in the tropical sunshine.

Perhaps it was the heady atmosphere of the Caribbean beginning to exert its hold on her—or maybe the energetic beat of the music coming from the boat was serving to loosen her up. Whatever the reason, she’d throw all her inhibitions away right now for the chance of downing a long, cold glass of something. Anything.

William looked around. ‘Where do you want to sit? Would you like to be under cover, or do you want to look out over the sea?’

‘Both, I think.’ She smiled. ‘I’ve been stuck on a plane for several hours, so it will be great to move around and feel the fresh air for a bit.’

He nodded, his mouth curving. ‘Sounds great. We can get to know one another—it’ll take about an hour to get to St Marie-Rose.’

He was friendly and open with her, and as they chatted Rebecca was startled to find herself responding readily, a bit like a flower opening up to the sun. Why did she feel so at odds with herself about that? He’d already told her that he was getting over a broken relationship. Would it hurt to talk some more and maybe confide in him in return? He was easygoing and sociable and that was what she needed right now.

‘So what’s been getting you down?’ he asked.

‘Oh, a few things … I was ill, and my boyfriend decided that he couldn’t handle it.’

‘Ouch! That’s a tough one. It must have been difficult for you.’

‘Yes …’

It had been a few months since her relationship with Drew had disintegrated, and what had happened over that time had certainly taken its toll of her … Complications after her appendicitis had added to her problems and left her feeling low, and Drew had been less than supportive. After her appendix had burst, peritonitis had almost killed her, with the poisons in her bloodstream keeping her in the hospital’s Intensive Care Unit for a couple of weeks.

But her problems hadn’t ended there. The doctors told her she might be infertile because of the scar tissue from those complications, and that was when Drew had decided to bow out. She had been devastated, overwhelmed by everything that had happened to her. How could she cope with the possibility of never having children? That question haunted her still.

It had all been a bit of a struggle. She desperately needed a change of scene—a chance to put herself back together again. Wasn’t it time she tried to relax and let her hair down? It could hardly matter what happened here, what she decided to tell William—he was only going to be around for a short time, after all.

She found a seat on one of the benches under the awning and put her bags down on the floor by her feet while he went to fetch the drinks. Padded bench seats were arranged along the deck, facing a central four-sided counter where dusky-skinned youths were busy cutting up all manner of fruits—oranges, melons, passion fruit, limes. There were a couple of urns available for hot drinks, along with juice dispensers and water coolers. She glanced around. There were even potted palms placed at discreet intervals on deck, all adding to the holiday atmosphere.

The man she’d seen earlier had gone to stand by the rail, looking out over the sea. He braced himself, leaning back against a stanchion, as the boat’s engine started up. He glanced her way, watching as William came towards her with a tall glass of iced juice. She couldn’t tell what the man was thinking. His gaze was smoke-dark—brooding, almost. As though he was disturbed to see her with another man. That couldn’t be so, though, could it?

For some reason he bothered her. Perhaps it was because in some way—maybe in the way he stood apart from the others—he reminded her of Drew. Though her ex had never possessed those bone-melting good looks, or that way of looking at the world as if it was his to command.

‘Don’t worry about him.’ William must have seen her cautious glance, and now, as she accepted the drink he handed her, she looked at him quizzically.

‘I won’t. Do you know him?’

He nodded. ‘He’s my cousin. He’s been over to Martinique on business—I think he probably wants some space to mull things over.’

‘Oh, I see … I think.’ She frowned and tried to put the man out of her mind, turning her attention to William and chatting to him about nothing in particular.

He was good company. He was fun and he made her chuckle, and at one point he even pulled her to her feet and had her dancing with him to the hot, rhythmic music that spilled out from the loudspeakers overhead.

Other passengers were already moving to the beat, and from time to time William’s friends came to join them. She laughed with them and exchanged banter, simply enjoying the freedom of letting herself go for a while. Her hair tumbled this way and that over her bare shoulders and her skirt gently swirled around her thighs as she sashayed to the beat of steel drums. She hadn’t felt this unrestrained in a long time.

The music stopped for a moment as the latest song came to an end and she stood still, attuning herself to the rhythm of the boat as it crested the waves.

‘Shall we go and stand by the deck rail for a while?’ William suggested, and she nodded, going with him and turning her face to the cooling breeze as the boat ploughed through the waves.

Standing with her by the rail, he put an arm around her shoulders to point out dolphins in the distance, playing in the clear, crystal water.

She felt a prickling at the back of her neck and looked around, suddenly distracted. The man at the rail flicked a glance in her direction, inclining his head in acknowledgement, his eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun. Was he still intent on watching her? Or was it William he was keeping an eye on?

William spoke to her, cutting into her thoughts. ‘Perhaps we might see each other again—hang around together from time to time? Don’t get me wrong—I know you’re not looking for a relationship and neither am I—but we do have something in common. We’ve both been hurt and we could be friends, maybe?’

‘Yes, I’d like that.’ It would be good to have a friend out here.

She looked out over the blue water once more. The island of St Marie-Rose was drawing closer, its green-clad mountains beckoning, while picturesque white-painted houses nestled among the trees on the hillsides—a perfect invitation to visit.

‘Whereabouts are you staying?’ he asked.

‘Tamarind Bay. My sister’s renting a house there … well, nothing quite so grand as a house—it’s more of a cabin, really. She was lucky to get it—it’s quite secluded, apparently, near to a small private marina. The owner of the property is a friend.’

He frowned. ‘That’s the opposite direction from me. We’re all staying at a rental place in the north of the island. Still …’ He brightened. ‘It’s not too far away. It’s not that big an island. You could go from one end to the other in two or three hours.’ He smiled. ‘There aren’t that many bars and nightclubs in Tamarind Bay. I’m sure I’ll manage to find you again. Maybe I could have your phone number? I could help cheer you up.’ He made a wry face. ‘Heck—we could cheer each other up.’

She nodded and smiled in response, but she wasn’t about to commit to anything. She wasn’t averse to having fun—in fact it would be great—but above all she’d come out here to spend time with Emma.

The catamaran moved into place alongside the dock at St Marie-Rose just a few minutes later and they readied themselves to disembark. Ahead of them, William’s cousin was among the first to leave the boat.

William helped her with her bags as they negotiated the steps to the quay. She paused for a moment to look around, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction as she took in the curve of the bay, with its wide strip of golden sand and palms that tilted towards the sun, their green fronds drifting gently in the light breeze.

‘Are you going to be okay getting to your sister’s place?’ William asked as they stood among the melee of disembarking passengers. ‘Tamarind Bay’s about an hour’s drive south from here.’ He seemed concerned, anxious to stay with her, but also aware of his friends waiting for him a short distance away. ‘I could find you a taxi. Better still, I could ask my cousin—’

‘No, please don’t do that,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be absolutely fine. Go and join your mates. Enjoy the rest of your holiday.’

‘Okay …’ He frowned. ‘I suppose so … if you’re sure?’

‘I am.’

Reluctantly he walked away, and she looked around to see if there were any cabs left for hire. A man thrust a leaflet into her hands—an advertisement for sea trips to the local islands—and she glanced at it briefly. In the meantime passengers were still getting off the ferry, descending upon every waiting vehicle.

‘I help you, lady—yes?’ A dark-skinned, athletic-looking young man came to stand beside Becky on the dock. ‘You need help with your bags?’

‘No … no, thank you.’ Becky gave him a tentative smile. She’d been warned by the tour company about hustlers, and though he seemed innocent enough she was cautious. Perhaps he had a car somewhere, but from his manner she seriously doubted he was a legitimate cab driver. ‘I’ll be fine. I’m sure I can manage.’

Unfortunately, her suitcase was still back at the airport, but she had her hand luggage with her—a holdall and a roomy bag.

He shook his head. ‘You give me money—I take your bags for you.’ He bent down and started to grasp the handles of her overnight bag.

‘No, no … please don’t do that … I can manage,’ she said again, but he wasn’t listening.

‘I take care of it for you,’ he said.

‘No—I’d rather you didn’t do that.’

She tried to reach for her bag but he was too quick for her, deftly swinging it away from her into the air. She sucked in a sharp breath. How on earth was she going to deal with him? Should she kick up a fuss? Call Security? Where was Security around here?

Even as the thoughts darted through her head the man she’d seen earlier stepped forward. He moved so fast she blinked in surprise, watching as he came up to the stranger, gripped the handles of her bag firmly and wrenched them from him. Rebecca was stunned. He was lithe and supple, his body honed to perfection. It was simply amazing to watch him in action.

His steel-grey gaze cut through the young man like a lance. ‘She told you that she didn’t want your help. Now I’m telling you—leave her alone.’

It was clear he meant business. It was there in the clipped tone of his voice and in the firm thrust of his taut, angular jaw. Even Rebecca was in awe of him, and she was an innocent bystander.

‘Okay. Okay.’ The young man held up his hands in submission, backing off. ‘I didn’t mean any harm. I’m going.’ He looked wary, taken completely aback by the opposition that seemed to have erupted out of nowhere.

Her rescuer watched him leave. ‘He won’t bother you any more,’ he said.

‘No. I see that.’ She sent him a grateful glance, her green eyes drinking him in. The youth was hurrying away along the quayside, anxious to stay out of trouble. ‘Thank you. I wasn’t sure whether there were any security people around here. They didn’t seem necessary. Everything looked so peaceful.’

His mouth made a wry curve. ‘It is—usually. But anywhere you go you might find people who want to supplement their income any way they can.’

‘I suppose so.’ She used the leaflet to fan her cheeks against the heat. How did he manage to look so cool and in control? He must be used to the conditions out here.

‘I’m Cade, by the way,’ he said. ‘I’m William’s cousin. He may have mentioned me.’

He held out a hand to her and she slipped her palm briefly into his. His grasp was firm and reassuringly strong.

‘Rebecca,’ she answered. ‘Yes, he did. Thanks again for your help.’

‘You’re welcome.’ He gave her a thoughtful look. ‘I couldn’t help overhearing some of your conversation with William on board. You said you were staying at Tamarind Bay—that’s roughly where I’m headed. Near there, anyway. I have a place in the hills above the bay. I could give you a lift, if you like?’

‘Um … that’s okay, thanks. I don’t mind waiting for a taxi. I don’t want to put you out.’ She didn’t know him, after all, so why would she trust her safety to him?

‘You could be in for a long wait …’ His glance shifted over her. ‘To be frank, a woman on her own—a beautiful young woman at that—could invite unwanted attention … as you’ve already discovered.’ He reached into the pocket of his chinos and showed her a business card. ‘Perhaps this will help to put your mind at ease.’

Dr Cade Byfield, she read. Emergency Medicine Physician, Mountview Hospital, St Marie-Rose.

‘People know me around here,’ he said. ‘I make the trip to and from Martinique on a regular basis. Ask the officials at the end of the dock if you need reassurance.’

That sounded reasonable enough. She’d seen one of them acknowledge him with a nod a short time ago. ‘A doctor?’ she said quietly. ‘So you live out here?’

He nodded. ‘I have done for the last few years, anyway. I’m from Florida, originally, but my parents settled on the island some years ago.’ He glanced at her questioningly. ‘And you?’

‘I’m English—from a busy town in Hertfordshire.’

‘Ah, I thought I recognised the accent.’ He smiled fleetingly and waved a hand in the direction of the harbour wall. ‘My car’s parked over there. Shall we go? I promise you, you’ll be safe with me.’

‘Okay.’ As she nodded he placed the palm of his hand in the small of her back, sending small whorls of sensation eddying through her spine. She tried not to think about the touch of his warm, strong fingers on her body as she walked with him.

‘We could have done with your help as a doctor on the plane coming over here,’ she murmured as they set off along the quayside.

‘Really? Why is that?’

‘We had to divert to Martinique to drop off a man who was taken ill. He was sitting in the seat across the aisle from me when he collapsed. He looked dreadful—pale and waxy. The pilot had to radio for help and they made sure they had an ambulance waiting for him at the airport.’

He frowned. ‘It must have been serious if they had to do that. What was wrong with him? Do you know?’

She nodded. ‘He complained of chest pain radiating to his ears and gums, and then he lost consciousness. I felt for a pulse but there wasn’t one.’

He sent her a quick, concerned look. ‘Sounds like a heart attack. What happened?’

She pulled a face. ‘There was general panic all around me for a moment or two. Then I started chest compressions while a flight attendant rushed to get a portable defibrillator. We managed to shock his heart and establish a rhythm and restored blood flow to his vital organs.’ Her mouth flattened. ‘I thought he was going to be all right, but then things went wrong again and his heart went into an irregular rhythm and stopped for a second time.’

Cade sucked in his breath. ‘He was obviously in a very bad way—that must have been scary for you.’

‘It was worrying,’ she admitted. ‘But I’m a doctor, too, so I suppose the training kicked in. They had adrenaline on board in the aircraft’s medical kit, so I gave him intravenous doses until he started to recover.’