Seasonal Winds: Summer Wind [NOOK Book]

Barbara Lynn Allan stood at the polished teakwood rail of the luxury yacht and stared at the beautiful island with its pristine turquoise waters. She had never been to Mistral Cay before but the allure of the tropical paradise and what went on there had filled her fevered dreams for months. As she watched the setting sun flame bright gold in the waters of the harbor, she shivered, anticipating what was to come.

Three months earlier, she would not have believed she'd be standing on a yacht in the middle of the Caribbean and anticipating a week of decadence and spoiling. Life had never offered anything but heartache and disappointment to her.

"What is it you want, Barbara?" her friend Stacy had asked when Barbara had cried out her frustration one evening after they'd gone to supper together.

"I want everything," Barbara said wistfully. Her shoulders had slumped. "I've got nothing and I want everything."

"Well, like what?" Stacy asked.

"I don't know," Barbara said. "Adventure, excitement, something--anything--to take me out of my ordinary existence and give me some fun. All I do is get up, go to work, come home, eat, and sit before the TV or read a book until I get sleepy. I don't have a boyfriend--although that would certainly be nice. I'd love to have someone to spend time with, to go on a thrilling escapade with, or just to sit in front of the fire and toast our footsies." Barbara perked up. "Or better yet, someone I could sail off with into the sunset or ride off with on a big white charger. You know: fantasy!"

"You can have just about anything you want at the Cay."

Barbara had beenskeptical when Stacy had first mentioned the resort. "I don't know, Stace...."

"Whatever you want," Stacy had purred. "You can choose your fantasy, your partner--well, any man save the owner, Julian St. John. He's off limits. He doesn't do clients, but everyone else is fair game. What have you got to lose? All I need to do is recommend you and you're in like Flint, Babs."

It had taken some juggling but Barbara had scraped together the cost of the extravagant vacation. Stacy had written her letter of recommendation, Barbara had been investigated by the Cay's security division, and the invitation had arrived just when Stacy said it would--on Barbara's birthday.

"Go get 'em, tigress!" Stacy had congratulated her.

Lights blazed into life on the dock. The gangplank was lowered and crewmen in their striped blue-and-white pullovers began taking the guests' luggage ashore.

As the sun sank beneath the horizon, Barbara turned away from the rail. Her heart was beating a mile a minute--so fiercely it made her head ache. Her palms were moist. She was nervous but excited about her stay at the Cay.

"Your tour director will be waiting for you in the mauve room, Ms. Allan," the captain said as she passed him.

"I hope you have a very fulfilling stay at Mistral Cay."

She smiled timorously and thanked him, clutching her purse to her as she began her walk down the steel gangplank.

"What about the pretty Afro-American lady with the off-the-rack dress from Wal-Mart?" the owner of the Cay inquired from his office window. "What's her story?"

"Barbara Allan, age 26, from a place called Climax, Georgia," Julian St. John's administrative assistant stated. When his boss turned to give him a quizzical look, he grinned. "You heard right--Climax. She is a computer tech for Entellimedia, a cable company out of Albany, Georgia. Unmarried. Never engaged. No boyfriend at present." The assistant folded the top sheet of Barbara's file over. "Last boyfriend was in college four years ago. Doesn't seem to have much of a social life. All work and no play and she's bored with her life. She pulls down a whopping 35K a year, rents her apartment, owes roughly $16K on her 2000 Toyota, and has next to no savings now that she purchased her vacation from us."

Julian St. John frowned. "Doesn't sound like she can afford us," he commented. He was watching the slightly overweight black woman coming toward the main spa building. "Who recommended her?"

"Her college roommate, Stacy Mendelssohn," the assistant replied. "Remember her?"

Julian drew in a long breath then exhaled slowly. "Only too well. She groped me on the stairs one night. I thought Silkie would pulverize her but apparently the two of them came to some kind of understanding."

The assistant grinned at the thought of Julian's wife stomping Mendelssohn. "In her letter, Ms. Mendelssohn said she believed Ms. Allan would benefit greatly from a stay here at the Cay. Says she's far too inhibited."

The owner of Mistral Cay stood there quietly for a moment, and then turned away from the window. "Refund Ms. Allan's money but don't let her know we've done so. Let her have her fantasy and make sure it satisfies her completely."

Henri Bouvier, Julian's admin assistant, cocked a dark brow. "And just what explanation do we give her when she gets home to Georgia and finds her money has been refunded?"

"Tell her that she won a contest we were holding and the trip was on us," Julian said. He sat down in the form-fitting chair behind his desk. "No woman should ever have to deplete her savings to find pleasure in this world or any other."