Paradise Nights: Taken by the Bad Boy

Serena glared at her too.

‘Well, I do,’ she said defensively. ‘He’s nice to Sam. He talks up the hotel to his passengers … ‘

‘Yeah, but what else do you know about him?’ muttered Nico.

Chloe’s eyes took on a decidedly teasing gleam. ‘He’s handsome, polite—?

‘Almost penniless, not Greek, a lapsed Catholic …’ added Serena, although the penniless bit was probably a stretch. Not if he co-owned an air-charter business. ‘And, oh, yeah, he’s running from something. Don’t forget to factor that in.’

‘How romantic.’ Chloe slid her a sideways glance. ‘What do you think he’s running from? A tragedy? A world full of injustice? A woman?’

‘A life of crime?’ muttered Nico. ‘Come on, Chloe.

He’s not a saint. He flies tourists around the sky, for heaven’s sake.’

‘And before that, he used to fly air-sea rescue helicopters,’ said Serena.

Nico stared at her in silence. So did Chloe.

‘All right,’ her cousin said finally. ‘So he hasn’t always been a penniless drifter. That’s quite a job. Some women might even think it sounds romantic—although they’d be wrong.’ He glared at Chloe. ‘But can he fish?’

CHAPTER FIVE

PETE was five steps from the front door of Chloe’s hotel, his duffel slung over his shoulder and his mind on a dark-eyed goddess he’d promised to court discreetly, when Sam hightailed it past him to hold the door open for him before making a beeline for the reception desk. The passengers Pete had flown to the island were staying with family, he had no need to help anyone else check in, no one else’s belongings but his own to carry, no one to answer to until mid-morning the following day. Nothing to do but suit himself.

As far as Pete was concerned, suiting himself involved checking in, grabbing something to eat at some stage, and finding Serena.

Furious whispering ensued as he headed towards the desk. Maybe they were booked out? Maybe that was what all the fuss was about? Because, without question, they were fussing about something. Sam beamed. The receptionist blushed.

‘Checking in, sir?’ she said. ‘Do you have a booking?’

‘Not yet. I’m after a room for the night. If you have one.’

‘Certainly, sir. One person?’

Pete nodded.

‘You’ll be in room seventeen.’

He handed over his credit card and she processed his payment and handed him a key. ‘Enjoy your stay.’

‘You want me to carry your bag?’ asked Sam.

‘Why? You working here now too?’

‘Nope.’ Sam paused as if to consider the notion, his eyes brightening. ‘Not yet. But I could. Do you think she’d pay me?’

‘Who? Your Aunt Chloe? Maybe.’ He studied the boy. ‘You need money?’

‘Doesn’t everyone?’

‘What for?’

‘Stuff.’

‘What kind of stuff?’

The boy shrugged. ‘Just stuff.’

Pete opened the door to room seventeen and looked around. ‘Nice room,’ he said.

Sam’s smile broadened.

Pete dumped his duffel on the end of the bed and deliberately turned to survey the minibar. ‘Do you drink, Sam?’

Sam’s mouth set into a thin stubborn line. ‘No.’

‘Smoke?’

‘No.’

‘Shoot?’

‘I said no!’

‘Good for you,’ he said mildly. ‘Then why are you so determined to start work and earn money?’

Sam didn’t answer him, just stood silently in the doorway with a stubborn set to his jaw that Pete was more than familiar with having grown up in a household full of siblings who were anything but malleable. He held Sam’s gaze and waited, not stern, not demanding, just waiting. Borrowing the technique from Jake—hell, it always seemed to work for him.

‘What if I need to buy food, or shoes?’ said Sam abruptly. ‘What if I need to buy medicine for—’ The boy stopped, looking as stricken as Pete suddenly felt. ‘What if I get sick?’ he said in a small, thin voice.

‘Your family will take care of that kind of stuff for you, Sam,’ he said gruffly.

‘And if they don’t?’

‘They will. Your aunt Chloe will.’

There was a world of mistrust in Sam’s eyes. ‘You don’t know that.’

‘You’re right, I don’t.’ He’d lost his mother, just like Sam. But he’d never been alone. He’d always had his brothers to rely on. Even when their father had fallen apart, he’d always had his siblings. Sam had had no one and Pete couldn’t begin to imagine what the boy had gone through—was still going through if his dogged determination to work and to earn his own way was any indication. ‘But I’ll bet you fifty euros that if you get sick your aunt will get you the medicine, or the doctors, or the hospital care you need.’ He fished his wallet from his pocket, withdrew a fifty euro-note and tossed it down on the bed. He withdrew another note. ‘I’ll bet you another fifty she’ll never let you go hungry.’

Sam stared at him with those dark, haunted eyes. Wanting to believe, thought Pete. Desperately wanting it to be so, when experience had only ever taught him otherwise. ‘I don’t have a hundred euros to bet with,’ Sam said at last.

‘You don’t need it. If your aunt lets you down the money’s yours. If she doesn’t, you give it back. That’s the deal,’ he said, but still the boy hesitated. ‘Take it or leave it.’ Pete turned away, started to unpack his duffel. When he turned back Sam was standing by the bed and the money was gone.

‘Deal,’ said Sam awkwardly.

Pete nodded. Maybe with some money in his pocket the kid would feel slightly more secure. He hoped so.