A Yuletide Affair Read online

  “Those are really inappropriate questions,” he said.

  “I apologize. I think we got off on the wrong foot.” She handed him a sheet of paper from her briefcase. “Here’s a list of properties that I thought you might be interested in. If this is not your price range, we can adjust.”

  He took the list and gave it a quick review. Handed it back to her. “Actually, I brought my own list.”

  He reached into the back pocket of his shorts, pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to her. She opened it. Gave it a quick scan.

  “These properties are close to a million dollars!”

  “Your point?”

  She ignored his question. “And besides, the Madison property already has a buyer.”

  “That’s the one that I’m most interested in. I saw it on your website this morning. It was the only one that had a video. You should do that with all of your properties, by the way...add a video. Excellent selling point. And your website didn’t indicate that that property was sold, by the way.”

  “I just spoke with the owner this morning, and she’s waiting for me to send over the contract right now.” Why was she explaining this to him? “I already have a solid offer on it.”

  “But you haven’t accepted that offer yet, right?”

  “Well...”

  “I would like to see the place.”

  “Why would I show you a property that’s not for sale? And if I thought for one second that you could afford it, I couldn’t show it to you today anyway. It’s on Abaco—over a hundred miles from here. It would take us too long to get there by boat.”

  “I don’t have anything but time.”

  “It would be a complete waste of time.”

  “It’s not the only property on Abaco that I’m interested in. There are others in the same general vicinity.”

  “We don’t have transportation.”

  “Actually, we do. Jasmine told me that your cousin Stephen owns a boat, and he often transports you between the islands. She even gave him a buzz, and asked if he was available today. He was more than happy to oblige. So what’s your excuse now?”

  He was right. Their cousin Stephen was very accommodating whenever she needed use of his boat. Often if his schedule permitted, he’d drive Alyson between islands to meet with clients and show properties. But she didn’t need her sister planning her day for her, or telling Samson Steel all of her business. She’d address that with Jasmine the next time she saw her.

  Sooner than she would have liked, Stephen pulled the boat to shore and tied it to the dock. He waved for them to come along. Alyson gathered herself and walked toward the boat. Samson followed closely behind.

  She wasn’t sure what the day would bring, but so far she wasn’t pleased with its start.

  Chapter 4

  On Sophia, Stephen’s powerboat, they traveled at a fast pace across the Atlantic Ocean. Stephen steered the boat through the clear turquoise waters. Alyson reclined on the leather seat on the port side of the boat, behind Stephen, while Samson relaxed in its bow. His back was to her, so she had an opportunity to check him out without his knowledge.

  Samson and Stephen chatted about everything under the sun—whatever it was that men chatted about. Occasionally she’d tune in to the conversation, which didn’t really amount to anything more than a conversation about the ocean, deep-sea diving and the Islands of the Bahamas. Stephen was a diver, and boasted about it every chance he got. He’d go diving for fish and lobsters. Stephen told Samson about his and Alyson’s upbringing. As first cousins, they spent a great deal of time together as children and even as teens and adults. The Talbots were a close-knit clan.

  When they arrived on Abaco, Stephen tied a rope from the cleat of the boat to the dock. He helped Alyson climb out of the boat first, and then helped Samson.

  “I have a couple that I’m taking on a sightseeing tour,” Stephen said. “Shouldn’t take me more than an hour, Chicken.”

  Chicken was a nickname that she’d never outgrown. It was a name that clearly didn’t describe her, as she was not afraid of anything. However, some of her family members saw fit to give it to her anyway, and she hated it.

  “An hour? Are you kidding me?” she asked. “Why didn’t you tell me you had business on Abaco before you brought me here?”

  “Alyson, this is my livelihood. I always schedule other business when we come here. You know that. I have to take advantage of every opportunity to make money.”

  Stephen was definitely an entrepreneur. He owned a rental shop along the beach on the Eleuthera, where he rented jet skis and surfboards by the hour. He used his powerboat to transport tourists between the islands. Though Alyson often complained, she appreciated him allowing her to tag along on his moneymaking trips. But because he was her younger cousin, she felt obligated to give him a hard time—each and every time. It was a habit that she hadn’t quite grown out of. She didn’t care about Stephen leaving her for an hour, but spending time alone with Samson was what she feared most.

  “Hurry back.” She kissed her cousin’s cheek. “I need to get back to the Eleuthera before nightfall. I have an early meeting that I need to prepare for.”

  “Good luck with her,” Stephen told Samson. “She’s impossible to deal with.”

  “I’m not impossible! I’m just a woman who knows what she wants.”

  Stephen shook his head, and then stood on the deck. Lit a cigarette. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way back.”

  * * *

  Madison House was one of the most alluring properties in the Abacos. Positioned at sixty-eight feet above sea level and overlooking the Sea of Abaco, the magnificent beauty boasted six bedrooms and a great room all connected by massive breezeways. Each bedroom had its own private balcony. The vaulted ceilings, Brazilian wood flooring and the glass walls were by far the main attractions. The view of the beach from the great room was stunning.

  “There are no words to describe this property,” said Samson. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.”

  “You like, huh?” she asked.

  “It’s breathtaking.”

  Samson followed her across the mahogany floors and into the kitchen with its upscale stainless-steel appliances and a dumbwaiter. French doors off the kitchen led to a porch that wrapped all the way around the property. She stepped outside and felt the tropical air against her face—breathed it in.

  “I could live here.” Samson said it softly.

  “Unfortunately it’s not for sale. But since you insisted on seeing it, here it is,” she told him.

  “Here it is, indeed.”

  They stepped back inside and took the winding staircase to the second level and to the master suite. Huge glass French doors led to an enormous private balcony with a view of the ocean.

  “This is unreal,” said Samson.

  It took them more than thirty minutes to finish the tour. When they were done, she set the alarm and secured the property.

  “We can use the golf cart from this house, and I’ll drive you over to a nearby property. Of course it’s a little more quaint, but still very beautiful.”

  “I’ll follow your lead,” he said.

  They drove the golf cart along the road to a smaller three-bedroom house on Marsh Harbour. Tall palm trees greeted them in front of the well-manicured yard.

  “This one seems a little more practical,” Samson said as they entered the home. “I like the kitchen. It’s much bigger than the other house.”

  “Why would you care about a kitchen?”

  “I cook. And very well, as a matter of fact.”

  “And what is it that you cook?” she asked with a bit of skepticism in her voice.

  “A little of everything, but mostly soul food. Collard greens and the best fried chicken you’ve ever tasted,” he boasted. “I make a mean sweet potato pie, too.”

  She looked at him. “You make sweet potato pie?”

  “A mean one,” he insisted.

 
“That’s my favorite pie. I can eat a whole one all by myself.”

  “Well, maybe I’ll make you one someday,” said Samson. “Do you cook?”

  “All my life. Mostly Bahamian dishes. Our mother made sure we all learned how to cook. Said the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” She laughed. “Not that I care about getting to a man’s heart. But it’s nice to know how to cook, nonetheless. At least I’ll never go hungry, right?”

  “Why aren’t you interested in getting to a man’s heart? Aren’t you interested in men?”

  “Of course I’m interested in men.” She set her purse down on the kitchen counter. “But I’m just not interested in the whole drama of a relationship right now. Don’t have the time or the energy. My life is fine just the way it is.”

  “Relationships don’t always have to bring drama. Maybe you’re unhappy by your own choosing.”

  “I never said I was unhappy! I’m quite happy, in fact.” She was convincing herself more than him. “But I’m just not interested in the whole drama of a relationship right now. Don’t have the time or the energy. My life is fine just the way it is.”

  “Relationships don’t always have to bring drama. Maybe you’re unhappy by your own choosing.”

  “I never said I was unhappy! I’m quite happy, in fact.” She was convincing herself more than him. “But what about you? You have a wife, girlfriend or baby’s mother back in...wherever it is you came from?”

  “Chicago. And none of the above. I’m a happy bachelor.”

  “So you live in Chicago?”

  “Southside.”

  “What part?”

  “In a historical, black neighborhood. A lot of culture there.”

  “Isn’t there also a lot of crime?”

  “Not any more than anyplace else. And where do you live, on Miami’s Fisher Island somewhere?”

  “Downtown.”

  “Should’ve known.”

  “What do you mean, ‘should’ve known’? I’ll have you know that downtown Miami is very cultural. A lot of history there, as well,” she explained. “And why do you live in Southside Chicago, anyway?”

  “It’s my home. I was born and raised there. It’s where I grew up. I’m proud of my home. I envy your upbringing. Must’ve been nice, growing up in the Bahamas.”

  “It was restricting. I outgrew this place. Quickly!”

  It had been years since she’d lived on the islands. A native of the Bahamas, she’d gone away to college and vowed never to return to the islands permanently. And even after the completion of her family’s bed-and-breakfast, the Grove, she still had no desire to return. However, visiting properties with Samson caused her to remember why she loved the Bahamas so much. It was still her home, where her family lived, and still one of the most beautiful places in the world.

  Her father was a retired physician, and he was the best example of what she wanted in a man. Genuine and caring and very intuitive, he was part of the reason she’d never settled down with anyone. No one could ever compare to him. That and the fact that her mother’s voice was forever in her head about everything. Her mother’s little anecdotes and lessons lived in her mind. She didn’t know why she listened to her mother, though. Beverly Talbot had done the opposite of what she constantly encouraged her daughters to do. She told them to follow their dreams, when she’d abandoned her own dreams only to follow their father’s.

  “Sometimes in life, we make sacrifices, Alyson.” That had been her mother’s excuse. “I wanted a better life for you guys. That’s why I didn’t follow my dreams.”

  Alyson and her siblings had certainly benefited from their mother’s sacrifices. Their parents had somehow managed to put every one of them through college. Everyone except for Alyson’s youngest brother, Denny, who’d chosen the military instead. He was currently away completing officer’s training in the United States. The rebellious one with a mind and style of his own, he’d certainly been the exception to the Talbot family rule.

  Somehow he’d also managed to weasel his way out of working for their family’s business. The Grove was their inheritance—passed down to them from their grandfather Clyde Talbot. They each had a stake in the business. Jasmine had been the first to move back to the islands to oversee the construction of the family’s B and B. She’d written the business and marketing plan. And after the renovation had been completed by her fiancé, she’d been instrumental in hiring staff and overseeing the day-to-day operations.

  But Jasmine was becoming overwhelmed. Their youngest sister, Whitney, a schoolteacher in Texas, had made promises that she would move back home after the school year ended, but so far that hadn’t happened, and Jasmine needed help. Planning a wedding and running the Grove was certainly taking its toll on her. As a result, Alyson found herself on the islands more often than she wanted to be. It had been weeks since she’d been to her home in Miami.

  “If we’re done looking around, I should lock up.”

  “I’m done,” said Samson.

  Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her pocket. It was a text message from Stephen.

  Taking a bit longer than expected. Might be another hour...maybe two. Sorry J

  “Really, Stephen!” she said aloud.

  “What?” Samson asked.

  “He said he might be an hour or two longer,” she explained. “I apologize.”

  “Don’t,” said Samson. “Let’s just make the best of it.”

  “How?”

  “There’s a beautiful beach a few steps from here. I say we take advantage of it.”

  “I say we don’t. I’m not even dressed for the beach.”

  “When was the last time you just let your hair down?”

  “I can’t remember. I don’t have time to let my hair down.”

  “Well, today you will.” Samson grabbed her hand and ushered her out of the kitchen and through the living room, straight to the front door.

  “Just let me lock up.”

  * * *

  Samson didn’t waste any time removing his hat and laying it atop a huge rock. He pulled his T-shirt over his head, and all Alyson took in were golden brown abs and strong arms and the beautiful sunshine beaming against smooth skin. He removed the leather sandals from his feet and headed for the water. He didn’t even bother to remove his trousers before jumping in for a swim.

  “The water’s warm!” he yelled.

  “That’s nice.”

  “Why don’t you take your clothes off and come in?”

  “Imagine that,” she said, and then decided to remove her leather pumps.

  The last thing she needed was to ruin a perfectly good pair of Manolo Blahnik shoes. Never mind that she’d caught them on clearance at a Saks end-of-season sale. Still, they weren’t cheap! And she would not be removing her clothes in front of a man that she barely knew. She was appalled that he would even suggest it.

  She rolled up the legs of her pants, tiptoed through the sand and moved closer to the water. Samson was doing a backstroke in the water. He was moving farther away from the shore, and she feared that he was being careless.

  “Hey!” she called. “You shouldn’t swim so far out.”

  He smiled and waved and continued to swim farther out. Soon he disappeared, and she couldn’t see his head. Her heart pounded as she moved closer, and soon she was standing in the water.

  “Samson!” she called again.

  No response and no sight of him. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She quickly tried to dial 911, but her fingers were shaking.

  Samson had swam farther out into the deep part of the ocean. She was breathless when she didn’t see him anymore.

  A Jet Ski zoomed past, and she tried flagging it down. They waved as if she was saying hello, and kept moving. She crept farther into the water. As she pressed the numbers on her cell phone, it slipped from her grasp and fell into the water.

  “Shit!” she exclaimed and crouched down to pick it up.

  She missed
seeing the wave that suddenly crashed against the shore and the side of her face. It soaked her hair and clothing with one splash. She inhaled deeply and attempted to catch her breath. Then she tried turning her cell phone on.

  “Looking for someone?” Samson popped up out of the water, startling her.

  “Are you crazy?” She swung at him, but he grabbed her hands. Restrained her.

  “What is wrong with you?”

  “I thought you drowned!”

  “Well, I didn’t.” He grinned. “I’m glad to know that you cared, though. You were willing to save my life?”

  “Let go of me! You are so twisted! And this is definitely not funny!” she yelled. “You’re an asshole! My phone probably doesn’t work anymore, and my hair is wet and my clothes are soaked!”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you thought I was drowning. I was fine. I’m a swimmer.”

  She rushed angrily to shore. Samson followed, attempting to express his sorrow. Her clothes and her hair were ruined, and she was livid. Stephen couldn’t return to the island soon enough, she thought. Samson Steel had certainly burned his bridge with her, and there was no recovering from this.

  Chapter 5

  The weather in the Bahamas was beautiful—warm and tropical—but it was as cold as ice on the boat ride back to Harbour Island. Samson glanced back at Alyson, who was seated on the port side of the boat. She’d managed to pull her wet hair back into a ponytail. Her clothes were wrinkled and drenched. A pair of overpriced shoes rested next to her on the seat, and a set of earbuds was inside her ears. He wondered what she was listening to, but dared not ask. He was just grateful that her phone still worked.

  “She’ll be okay.” Stephen caught him checking her out.

  “I didn’t know she thought I was drowning. I went out a little deeper than I probably should have,” Samson tried to explain. “And she should’ve seen me swimming back to shore.”

  “She said she wasn’t looking...too busy trying to get her phone to work. But I tell you what... I wished I’d have seen her rushing out into the water like that. I bet that was a sight to see.” Stephen laughed.