Dara Girard - Touch of Paradise

She put his jacket down, then poked her head out into the hallway. No one was around, and if she left, then the problem would be solved. She started to tiptoe to the doorway when she heard an amused female voice. “That’s not a good idea.”

She turned around and saw an attractive young woman, a little older than Aaron, grinning at her. “He’ll just come and find you.” She held out several clothing items. “Just get changed, and get used to being here.”

“But I’m really okay,” Rebecca said, reluctantly taking the clothes.

“My brother takes his responsibilities seriously,” the woman said, leading Rebecca to a bathroom. “He’s going to look after you until the morning, so you might as well get used to the idea. I’m Candace, by the way. If you haven’t figured it out by now, my family owns the hotel where you’re staying.”

“Rebecca,” she said, following the woman’s example. Rebecca walked into the bathroom, then turned to her. “This is all so embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing? You have no idea how many girls would love to be in your shoes.” She winked and then closed the door.

Resigned, Rebecca changed, then looked at her torn dress. She’d designed it herself, but the stitching hadn’t been strong enough. She’d have to take better care in the future. She didn’t want them to think she’d fallen overboard on purpose. Then her thoughts turned back to her rescuer. He was wonderful, and she could understand why he’d be a hot catch, but she didn’t want to give him or his family the wrong impression. But since she was going to have to stay, she decided she’d make the best of it.

In truth, she was curious to know more about him and wanted to spend as much time with him as she could. Once she put on the skirt and top Candace had handed her, she looked in the mirror and wasn’t too surprised by the image she saw. She looked terrible. While the skirt and top would look stunning on the other woman’s tall willowy frame, Rebecca looked awkward and dumpy because she was almost a foot shorter and a little wider.

But she was used to wearing secondhand clothes, and as a fashion major she knew that clothes could be made to fit the woman. She rolled up the skirt at the waist, so it fell shorter, just above her knees. Then she folded up the arms of the top and pulled and tied it in the back, then looked at her reflection, satisfied. She heard a quick knock on the door. “Can I come in?” Candace asked.

“Yes.”

Candace came in holding a bottle in one hand and a hair dryer in the other. She stopped and stared at her. “Wow, I’ve never seen those items worn like that before.”

Rebecca shrugged. “I had to make some adjustments, but don’t worry, none of the changes are permanent.”

Candace walked around her, impressed. “Very creative.” She set the hair dryer and bottle of moisturizer down. “I thought you might want this for your hair.”

“Thanks.” Once Candace left, Rebecca plugged in the blow dryer, then lathered her bare skin with some of the moisturizer. She had exchanged her heels for a pair of plush slippers once she had entered the house and felt more comfortable. Before leaving the bathroom, Rebecca checked her reflection. With the help of the blow dryer, her hair looked slightly tamed, and she had wiped off her smudged makeup. That would have to do, she thought with a shrug, then left. She found Aaron sitting in front of the TV dressed in khaki pants and a T-shirt. When he turned and looked at her, he stood up and smiled. “Now you look much better.”

Rebecca looked down at herself. “Liar.”

He rested his hand on his chest as if she’d wounded him. “Why would I lie?”

“Because you’re sweet.”

He winced. “Ouch, you really know how to hurt a man’s ego. You want the truth?”

“I didn’t say that.”

He handed her a phone. “Here.”

“What’s that for?”

“In case you want to call someone and let them know you’re okay.”

“Oh, right,” she said, taking the phone. “Thanks.” She dialed her friend Marie and told her what had happened.

“You really should go to the hospital,” Marie said after Rebecca had finished. “I heard something bad happened on that boat.”

“Shh, I’m all right,” Rebecca said, wishing that Marie didn’t have a habit of shouting over the phone.

“Who is this guy? What if he made up his story about chaperoning the boat and plans to take advantage of you?”

Rebecca glanced over at Aaron, who continued watching TV, hoping he couldn’t overhear her friend. “I’ve already met his sister, and his mother’s here, too,” she said in a low voice, hoping Marie would take a hint and do the same. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

“But what if they’re not really related to the owners, and they’re a group of cons who prey on tourists and—”

Rebecca inwardly groaned, regretting her choice to call. Maybe she should have told her a different story. Marie had a wilder imagination than she did. “I’m okay. The reason I called you was so that you wouldn’t worry. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Just remember that if he tries anything, go for the soft spots and—”

“Good night,” Rebecca said before disconnecting. She handed the phone back to Aaron, then sat down.

Aaron replaced the phone and sat beside her. “What soft spots should you go for?”

Rebecca felt her face burn. “You heard that?”

“Couldn’t help it. I think I could hear your friend over a hurricane warning.”

“She just worries sometimes.”

Aaron nodded, then pointed to the TV. “You can watch whatever you want.”

“I don’t watch much TV,” Rebecca said, glancing around the room. She pointed to a covered table near the wall where a framed item sat. She saw a miniature three-dimensional scene of people taking a picture in the cove. “What’s that?”

“Oh, just one of my hobbies.”

She walked over to it. “It’s beautiful. What is it called?”

“A diorama.”

“Do you have others?”

Aaron looked at her, skeptical. “You really want to see them? My job is to keep you awake, not put you to sleep.”

“I won’t fall asleep. I’m really curious.”

“Okay.” He lifted up the tablecloth and set three more dioramas on the table.

Rebecca bent down and studied their intricate details.

“I base some of them on stories like Treasure Island or Robinson Crusoe , but I mostly like showing scenes of nature,” Aaron said after a while, as if he was made uncomfortable by her silence.

She turned to him. “You really love this island, don’t you?”

“It’s my life.”

“You remind me of my grandmother.”

Aaron frowned and started to put the dioramas away, annoyed. “Because this is the hobby of an old woman?”

“No, because you create beautiful things. My grandmother is one of the most amazing women I’ve ever known. I’m a fashion design major because of her. She couldn’t afford much, but she always made me look and feel good. Even when other kids would make fun of a sweater she created, I didn’t care, because every time I put something on that she made, I knew I was loved. She’d take my sister and me to the park and just look at birds, and gain inspiration for a dress or blouse. She’d race home and gather different cloths and materials and create something amazing. She lives life with passion. Just like you.”

“No one has ever said that to me before. I’m not really—”

“But you are,” Rebecca interrupted. “Looking at what you’ve created makes me want to be an inch tall so that I can escape into this world. I can see your love of this island and the people here. You’re so talented. I wish I could create something this intricate.”