Authors: Johanna Lindsey
Paradise Wild
| Paradise Wild |
| Johanna Lindsey |
| HarperCollins (1981) |
A well-born Boston beauty, Corinne Barrows has traveled halfway around the world in search of Jared Burkett -- a dashing rogue and a devil; a honey-tongued charmer who seduced and despoiled her. . .and then abandoned the impetuous lady after awakening a need that only he could satisfy.
She has found him on the lush and lovely island of Hawaii. And now Corinne will have the revenge she craves: the total ruin of the blackguard who brought shame and scandal into her life. But Jared still possesses the power to excite her as no man has ever done--even as his own reckless heart is taken captive in their blistering war of wits and will--igniting a fire that could consume them both unless they surrender to it with wild abandon in the heat of the tropic night.
Paradise Wild
For my home—Hawaii—
and her wonderful people.
April 9, 1891
The tall, slender, golden-haired young woman fidgeting by the hall table fastened her startling green eyes on the closed door at the left of the hall. She sighed. The sigh caused her younger cousin Lauren to look away from the window and ask, “For heaven’s sake, Corinne, why are you so nervous?” Lauren Ashburn turned back to the window and studied the chilly scene across the way, her brown head tilted back. Boston Common looked so stark—row upon row of ancient trees bending to the merciless wind tearing its way toward Beacon Street and this townhouse.
Even in April, Boston was not an easy place to live. The months of cold, harsh winds and the need to stay indoors much of the time had taken a toll on the cousins. Corinne was harder to please than usual, and even sweet-tempered Lauren found herself gloomy much of the time.
“It doesn’t look as though spring is coming at all this year,” Lauren sighed as she fingered the rich scarlet draperies.
Corinne glanced up, her golden brows drawing together over the marvelous emerald eyes. “How can you
prattle about spring at a time like this?” she snapped. Her glance moved quickly to the closed door and then back to her young cousin.
Following her gaze, Lauren shrugged. “I would think you’d be used to this by now. You’ve been through it twice in the last year alone.”
Corinne’s quick temper charged to the surface. “I shouldn’t expect you to understand!” she said bitterly. “You have years before suitors will come to speak to your father. Then we’ll see how you like waiting while your future is decided by men—instead of by you.”
Lauren’s brown eyes filled. “I do understand, Cori. I’m sixteen, only three years younger than you.”
Corinne instantly regretted her sharp words. Impulsive, she was always having to apologize for angry remarks.
“I’m sorry, Cousin. It’s just that I’m so nervous this time. Russell really is my last hope.”
“Now why do you say that, Cori? You’ve had scores of suitors for the last three years, all the most handsome and well-to-do men in Boston. Don’t you know how beautiful you are? If Cousin Samuel says no to Russell, there will be plenty more for you to choose from.”
“No, there won’t be. There are very few men like Russell.”
Lauren smiled knowingly. “You mean there are very few men you can twirl around your little finger as you do Russell. Or the way you did Charles, and William before that.”
“Exactly. The others just won’t do.”
“Russell Drayton isn’t quite as timid as the other two were. I was really surprised when you chose him. But then, he
has
seemed to conform to your wishes.”
“Russell and I have an understanding. He’ll do just fine.”
“I guess it’s fortunate that you don’t love him. At least if your father refuses him, you won’t be broken-hearted.”
“I will never be broken-hearted,” Corinne laughed. “But Russell is going to exert himself, show he has some guts. He should be putting on quite a performance right now,” she said, nodding toward the closed study door. She frowned. “The interview shouldn’t be taking this long.”
“Why don’t we wait in the parlor?” Lauren suggested. “This hall is too drafty.”
“You go ahead. I couldn’t sit still. And I want to see Russell the second he comes out.”
Corinne rang the bell by the parlor door and the Barrows’ butler appeared instantly from the back of the house. “Brock, Miss Ashburn will have tea in the parlor.”
“Yes, Miss Barrows,” the dour Brock replied. “And Mr. Drayton? Will he be staying for dinner after the interview, miss?”
Corinne stiffened. It infuriated her that the household staff always knew everything. She had just that morning decided that today would be appropriate for Russell to make his plea, what with her father’s congenial mood of the last few days.
“I will let you know, Brock,” she replied sharply, dismissing him.
At that moment the front door knocker sounded, startling the three. Brock moved to answer it, but Corinne stopped him, eager for any diversion. She opened the door and shivered as the chill wind swept past her into the hall, molding her blue muslin dress to her body.
The sharp, light-green eyes of a stranger met hers. The man was small and slender, with bright red hair and long sideburns extending below his bowler hat,
which he was wise enough to hold in place. He was a curious little ferret-like man with a beaked nose, wearing a tight-fitting brown tweed suit.
“May I help you?” Corinne offered.
Ned Dougherty scrutinized the lovely blond girl carefully with an eye for detail, a habit necessitated by his profession. His mind registered the dark-gold hair, the slightly arched brows, the large eyes of a brilliant, clear, greenish yellow, set perfectly over the modestly curved nose. Long eyelashes fanned high cheekbones. Her lips were not too wide. Her smooth, ivory complexion and gently rounded chin blended beautifully with the lovely face.
“May I help you?” she repeated, a little sharply.
Ned cleared his throat. Hers was a face he would not forget. Nor could anyone ignore the gleaming golden hair with its coppery highlights.
“Is this the Samuel Barrows residence?”
“Yes.”
Ned’s sharp green eyes continued his examination, noting the slim neck, the high, pointed breasts. The dress tapered to a tiny waist and he could guess at the slim hips and long legs. She seemed about five feet seven, rather tall for a girl.
“Sir, if you do not quickly state your business, I must bid you good day.” Corinne was growing impatient.
“Forgive me, miss. I am looking for a Samuel Barrows who, many years ago, visited a group of islands in the Pacific known once as the Sandwich Islands, more recently as the Hawaiian Islands.”
“You must have the wrong man.”
“Are you quite sure, miss? It was a long time ago, nineteen years. You could hardly have been in Mr. Barrows’s employ at that time, so you couldn’t—”
“I beg your pardon,” Corinne interrupted haughtily. “Mr. Barrows is my father.”
“Forgive me again, Miss Barrows,” Ned said in embarrassment. This girl’s beauty had a disturbing effect on him. “I only assumed—”
“I know what you assumed. Now good day!”
Ned Dougherty held up his hand as she started to close the door. “Are you positive you know of all your father’s travels?”
“Yes!” she snapped, and slammed the door angrily. But then a distant memory floated into her mind and she quickly opened the door again.
“Wait!” she called, stopping the little man as he turned away. She smiled apologetically. “Now I must ask you to forgive me, sir. My father has been to the Hawaiian islands. He told me about it when I was a child. I’m afraid I had forgotten.”
Ned Dougherty’s eyes lit up. “This was nineteen years ago?”
“Exactly,” she admitted. “He was there when I was born. Did you wish to see him?”
“No thank you, Miss Barrows. Good day to you.”
“Wait! I don’t understand,” she called after him, but he was already hurrying down the street.
“Well, botheration!” she cursed aloud. “What a rude little man!”
Corinne slammed the door shut on the cold evening. Turning, she sighed and faced the empty hall. She studied the many sofas and padded benches against the walls, the large unlit chandelier used for formal gatherings, mirrors, the pictures which were said to have come from England with her ancestors. All these riches and for what? Her father kept the purse strings closed tightly.
Corinne started for the closed door, fed up with wait
ing. It opened suddenly, and Russell stormed out. Seeing his angry countenance, she ventured reluctantly, “He said no?”
“He said no,” Russell answered tightly. “He said
absolutely
no!”
Corinne grabbed his arm. “I don’t understand. Didn’t you say what I told you to say?”
“Yes.”
“And you stood up to him?”
“Yes, Corinne, yes!”
“Then why?” she pleaded in confusion.
“He saw through me, he said,” Russell replied despondently. “God, if he only knew!”
“Knew what? What are you talking about?”
“It doesn’t matter, Corinne. He has had us followed for months. Nothing could make him believe I’m not the spineless fool he accused me of being.”
“Russell!”
“I don’t want to talk about it now. I’ll see you later at the club.”
He left the house without another word. Corinne stood numbly in the middle of the hall. She genuinely liked Russell. He was by far the most handsome man she had ever seen, even though he was a bit too thin and had a beard that irritated her sensitive skin. But Russell was pliable, ready to bow to her wishes. And they were so well suited. He was tall enough for her own ungainly height, and they enjoyed so many of the same things. They especially enjoyed Corinne’s one obsession, which was gambling. Though she really didn’t know that much about Russell, he must be wealthy or he wouldn’t be able to afford gambling almost nightly. His wealth meant that she didn’t have to worry that he was after the money she would inherit when she married.
It wasn’t fair. In the last year her father had changed from the loving, tolerant man she had always adored into an obstinate tyrant. He was thwarting her every move.
Corinne’s temper, always quick, bubbled now into outraged fury. She marched into her father’s study and glared at him across his large desk.
“What are you trying to do to me?” she demanded loudly, not caring who heard her.
“Now, Cori, honey,” Samuel Barrows began in a conciliatory voice. “I knew you would be upset, but there’s no reason to be.”
“No reason!” she countered. “No reason?” She started to pace back and forth before his desk. “When you turned William down, I thought perhaps you had a good explanation. Then when you refused Charles’ suit, I thought you were being cautious. After all, Charles was only vice-president of a bank, and though his family was from sound stock and modestly wealthy, they couldn’t compare to our family, or the fortune I will inherit.” She faced him again. “But what could have made you say no to Russell?”
“He’s not the man for you, Cori.”
“How can you say that? He’s the man I
want
to marry! You’ve taught me to go after what I want!”
“I should have taught you better judgement,” Samuel replied, lowering his light brown eyes. “I’ve given you too much freedom for a girl. It will have to be a strong man indeed who can control you.”
Her emerald eyes sparkled. “But I don’t want a strong man. I’ve lived all my life with a man like that—you! Our battle of wills has been challenging, but I want to live the rest of my life in peace.”
“You mean you want everything the way you want it, no matter whether your judgement is sound or not?”
“I want control of my life! Is that too much to ask?” she demanded.
Samuel met her cold stare. “Girl, you have proved over this last year that you’re not wise enough to have that control yet.”
Corinne started to retort, but quickly remembered Russell saying that her father had had them followed. So he knew about her gambling. And she had taken such pains to be secretive about it, so that he would not guess where her generous monthly spending money went.
“I will admit that my judgement is not always sound, but it will improve in time,” Corinne said reluctantly.
“I can only pray that time comes within the next two years,” Samuel returned.
Corinne’s anger sparked again. “Do you intend to keep me under your rule till then? Are you saying I can’t marry until then?”
“No, blast it all!” Samuel finally lost his patience. “I’m trying to save you from yourself. You’re so eager to get your hands on your trust that you don’t care who you marry. For God’s sake, Corinne, can’t you wait just two more years? Then you’ll have your grandmother’s money and can marry with or without my approval.”
“By then I won’t need to marry!” she cried in frustration and stormed from the room.
Samuel Barrows leaned back in his velour chair and sighed. No one could say that hot-headed girl wasn’t his daughter. Stubborn, determined, impatient, and decidedly short-tempered, she was just like him. It was fortunate that Daneil Stayton had stipulated that her granddaughter couldn’t marry without her father’s consent until she reached twenty-one. Daneil knew the impulsiveness of youth. She had assumed that Corinne
would mature enough by twenty-one to make her own decisions. Samuel wondered.
It was his own fault, he admitted that. He had allowed his only child independence, and at too early an age. He had given her freedom to develop, and had not restricted her just because she was a female. He had been warned repeatedly by his family that he would regret his decision one day, and now he did.
The best thing he could do for his daughter would be to choose her husband for her while she was still under his control. He would see that she married a strong fellow, not some spineless jackass who would let her continue her wild ways. But where could he find a man with a will stronger than Corinne’s and find him within the next two years?
