Saved By A Billionaire Brit (7 page)

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Authors: Sandra Dee

Tags: #billionaire, #billionaire romance, #suspense romance, #island romance, #beach romance

BOOK: Saved By A Billionaire Brit
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I didn't think it would help my relationship with Anne to talk about blackmail and investigations, so I tried to hide my true emotions. I ducked my chin and sipped some juice.

"John speaks so highly of Robert. He really admires him. Even when Robert was a child, he helped his father shelter refugees from Rhodesia, the country that is now Zimbabwe. Some of their activities were considered illegal, but that didn't stop them. They have always been involved in humanitarian causes, even when it put them in danger. John said living with that kind of political upheaval caused Robert to suffer from mild post-traumatic stress disorder. He has trouble sleeping and is often awakened by terrible nightmares. Working with the charity is his way of coping with the situation."

"Robert didn't say much about that. I was impressed with his modesty. While he was here, he was sleeping soundly. I never noticed a problem. Now that I'm getting to know him, I can see why he really needed a vacation. I suppose growing up amidst so much poverty and turmoil strongly shaped his personality. I know he is passionately devoted to helping victims of the famine. I hope this tragedy in Africa doesn't put him in danger. I would be terrified for him. Does he still have a farm in Africa?"

"His father had a farm in Rhodesia, but it was seized by the country's dictator. Mugabe gave the land to his army buddies, so Robert grew up in Kenya. That was where he met John. They have been friends since childhood. I believe Robert's family sold the Kenyan farm when they moved back to the London area."

"I didn't realize John was from Africa too. I knew they had been friends for a long time, but not that long."

"They are both British citizens as well. They have dual citizenship."

"Well, I miss Robert already. I should get busy on my book as soon as possible to take my mind off all this, but I don't know how I am going to concentrate. I really appreciate your offer to help. It means so much to me. I'll let you know tonight about my plans for tomorrow. I'm going to work on a better book outline today."

At that moment a small group of Brits descended the stairs and gasped at the majesty of the view. They immediately grabbed their cameras and photographed everything in sight, including me. They were obviously new arrivals, complete with luggage. Anne rose to greet them.

A short, plump woman with a safari hat shouted, "Allo. We're here! Just shuttled in from the airport." She pointed to Oia and asked what it was.

"It is another village here on the island, very lovely," Anne replied.

"Is it possible to trek there from here?"

"Absolutely. The hiking trail runs along the summit, and it goes right through this hotel."

The lady in the safari hat handed Anne a hotel voucher. "You have our reservations. Can we leave our luggage with you while we give it a go?"

"You certainly can. Your bags will be in your rooms when you return. Just go back up one flight of steps and turn left. The path will take you straight to Oia."

With Anne gone, I found a shady corner on the terrace and smiled with amusement at the energetic tourists. But my mood changed immediately when I was forced to open my netbook. A blank page is intimidating under normal circumstances, but the emotional war inside made the page my combatant. I needed to make a decision, but who was telling the truth? And then there was my future. Should I be writing a book? I was homeless, jobless, and possibly about to become an expatriate. I had never been to the U.K. and now I was about to move there to live with a man I hardly knew.

I made one decision. Sharon may have lied to Rex and to me. We were both victims, but my feelings toward Rex had changed. In some ways the whole adventure had produced entirely unexpected results. People climbed mountains, sailed around the world, and consulted holy men to learn about themselves. I found a sense of self quite by accident. What I felt for Rex had been an illusion borne out of insecurity and immaturity. My time in Santorini might not produce a book, but it had made me into a woman. I wanted to go with Robert, even if Rex was totally innocent. In fact, I felt pretty sure that Sharon had been stealing from Rex and later blackmailed him as a distraction while she made her escape. Coming to Santorini with me gave her the perfect escape route.

It became too hot on the terrace, so I headed inside, turned on the travel channel, and immediately fell asleep on the couch. I didn't wake up until my cell rang. I was overjoyed to hear Robert's voice. He sounded like a British actor on the phone. That smooth, mellow voice always seemed unreal.

"It feels good to be home, but I miss you already," he said.

"Exactly where are you?"

"I'm heading for my flat to get some clean clothes, and then straight to my office. Are you still planning to join me when I get things sorted out?"

"Of course I am. I was just thinking of you. A group of elderly British tourists arrived at the hotel and dashed off on a hike to Oia before they checked into their rooms. As you well know, it is miles to Oia. Their accents reminded me of you. I felt a pang of sorrow because you are so far away."

"Jolly good for the tourists. That attitude helped the British conquer the world." Robert laughed and then turned serious. "I can feel the pain of distance too. Perhaps we can stay busy so the time will pass quickly. I can't wait to have you in my bed."

"I pray your work will be successful. It is so vital. It's important to me too, but being without you hurts."

"That's why I wanted to ring you, to let you know I'd arrived safely. I was thinking of you all the way home. I've already rung my office, and things don't look good. The reports are full of bad news. Kenya had to send forces to Somalia, and there has been some violence in Kenya as a result. I'm sending you all my love, but I need to go now because I'm at my flat. Get all your research done so I can enjoy those magnificent breasts soon."

"That sounds wonderful. I'm working on it now," I lied. "Goodbye, darling." I felt tremendous relief when I hung up, even with the same blank page staring at me.

Confidence filled my afternoon, so I made a new plan. I ran inside to tie a scarf around my hair. I still had Robert's jeep rental, and I wanted to celebrate my decision. I might even do a little research. There was enough time left in the afternoon to revisit Oia and have dinner at a restaurant famous for its sunset view. I ran across to the hotel office to see if Anne wanted to go.

"Of course I want to go. My evenings are as empty as yours now that John is gone. I get off work in about fifteen minutes. Is that ok?"

"That's perfect. I need to buy some cereal and soft drinks from the little market at the top of the steps. I can put them in the jeep and meet you in the parking lot. Bring something to cover your hair because it is a great top down day." I smiled and waved before trying to run up five flights of stairs, but I managed only three flights before starting to huff and puff.

Chapter Seven

––––––––

I
n the jeep Anne and I kept a careful eye on the sheer cliffs. A careless move could result in a free fall to sea level hundreds of feet below. The danger and beauty were exhilarating, but I suddenly wished for someone else to drive. The jeep was a rental and not insured for Anne to drive.

Much of Oia is a pedestrian only village. We parked in a convenient parking lot and set off to explore the galleries and shops again. Such a charmed place and the water was visible from the main path. The sunlight reflected off the mirror blue sea. Staying here would be like living in a fantasy. I was looking for an old movie set in Oia. We were wandering out of an exotic jewelry store when Anne grabbed my arm.

"Look! There's Sharon?"

"Where? Are you kidding?"

"No, I'm not kidding at all. I didn't get a good look, but Sharon and a short man with dark, blond hair just went around the corner." She pointed to the right, but I didn't see anything, just the usual group of wandering tourists.

I wondered if Anne knew Sharon well enough to recognize her at a distance. But another part of me felt as if I'd been slapped in the face. The sting moved inside me, knotted my stomach, and finally filled my legs. I was frozen, but my mind raced on. Anne had no knowledge of the criminal element in all this, nor did she realize I had been engaged to Rex. And my greatest fear - Rex was a short man with dishwater blonde hair. Was Rex here on the island with Sharon?

Anne stumbled forward but managed to hang onto my arm. I almost dropped my purse. She pushed her way between people, dragging me along. We rounded the corner and, to my horror, Sharon was standing thirty feet away near a rack of postcards. I didn't see the blond man. Perhaps he had stepped into a shop. While I was trying to process this impossible scenario, I realized Anne was waving and shouting at Sharon. There was no time to explain. I pulled Anne into the nearest store.

"Anne, don't!" I was trying to think fast. What could I say that wouldn't alarm her? I didn't want to tell her Sharon might be involved in blackmail. And I really didn't want to tell her that we might be in danger; I wasn't even sure we were in danger. I was trying to figure out why Sharon and Rex would be here. Even stranger, if Rex was telling the truth, why would they be together?

"What? Why not? You don't want to see Sharon? Aren't you still friends?"

I pulled her behind a rack of scarves. "I don't know. I don't want her to see me. We need to hide. It's possible the man you saw is my ex-fiance. Just stand here. Don't move."

"Oh!" Anne's face had the dawning of recognition, but flickered immediately. "I don't understand. Isn't Sharon engaged?"

"I'm actually not sure. It is such a long story. If the man is who I think he is, I used to be engaged to him."

"Oh, wow! Don't you want to see if it is really him? We didn't get a good look." She headed toward the store entrance again.

"Wait! Don't go out there!" I had planned to peek out through the merchandise, but Anne and I were operating from different perspectives. I wanted to stop her, but she was already back on the stone path. By the time I reached her, she was talking again.

"Sharon just went by, the other way."

"Did you see the man?"

"No, but he might be in front of her. They were in a crowd of people. I think they were walking toward the parking lot."

It was harder to follow people than it looks in the movies, especially since we wanted to remain hidden. There was a real possibility Sharon and the mystery man would turn a corner and then stop suddenly. We might run right into them. If they stepped into a store, we might walk past them. Anne tried to hurry, but I wanted to be careful. By the time we reached the parking lot, they were driving away together. We jumped into the jeep and tried to do a car chase along a winding, cliff road. Neither side of the road had any shoulders. At least we were on the side opposite the drop off. I'm not the best driver in the world.

I was trying to concentrate on the twisting curves when I heard a terrible roar. A man on a motorcycle passed going very fast. Just as he pulled in front of us, he leaned back and popped a wheelie. I screamed and started to slam on the brakes, but remembered not to skid. I just tapped the brakes instead. The tires screeched briefly, but we stayed on the road. I wanted to pull over and let my pounding heart move back into my chest. Fighting back fear, I drove slowly and finally found a place to stop.

Anne and I were unable to speak. We just sat for a few minutes and stared at each other. She reached over and grasped my hand. I waited until I could breathe again before I started the car. We drove back toward Thira slowly and carefully. Just before we reached Improvigli, a police car blocked the road. We sat for some time until Anne grew impatient. She climbed out of the jeep and walked past several cars to the policeman. After some gesturing and pointing, she returned.

"He said they are ready to move and let everyone pass. Someone went over the cliff, but they can't reach him from here. The rescuers are trying to walk across the fields below to help him. I can't really see over the side, but I think it was the man on the motorcycle."

I gasped, "We just escaped a major accident."

The cars were moving again, and soon we were back in the hotel parking lot. Sharon and her passenger were nowhere in sight. We had lost them completely. By this time I didn't really care. We had missed dinner entirely. Anne hurried to the office to order a late pizza from the hotel kitchen. She offered to share, but I declined. I had lost my appetite anyhow. If and when I got to England, I would look like an emaciated model. All I wanted was a quiet place to think and a glass of red wine.

I poured the wine and put it on my nightstand. After one sip I fell into the bed again. I was still wearing the clothes I had worn to breakfast, but it seemed unimportant. I hadn't really slept in twenty four hours, except for a short afternoon nap, and had missed the sunset. I still wasn't sleepy, just very, very tired.

My mind could not absorb the shock. Was I visiting an alternate universe? Had Sharon flown to New York and returned with Rex? Why on earth would they be together? I already knew Sharon was a liar. It probably wasn't too strange that she would appear somewhere she wasn't supposed to be. Why was she here? Had she forced Rex to come with her? Was Rex lying to me too? I had dozens and dozens of questions but no answers. In the next moment I was asleep.

Chapter Eight

––––––––

T
he next morning, my head was heavy on the pillow. When I stumbled into the bathroom to wash my face, a startling thought struck me. I felt certain I had been betrayed a second time. Rex had probably come here with Sharon, possibly on their honeymoon, as Sharon had planned. It seemed obvious now, but one question remained. Why had Rex phoned and begged me to come back? Why the elaborate story about the blackmail? Had he wanted to give me one last chance to come back to him? But where was he when he called? Was that day before yesterday? So much had happened it seemed like a week ago. If he had phoned right before he left New York, he might have had time to get here. It was hard to be certain because of the time difference and the disorienting effect of overnight flights.

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