Amy Andrews - The Heat of the Night

‘What was that about?’ asked Cyrus, a young local guy employed at the Tropicana as a bellhop.

‘I don’t know,’ said Isis, his sister, who usually worked Reception.

The siblings, products of hippy parents, were uncannily similar with their striking red hair and freckles.

‘I think I do,’ Avery said, her eyes narrowing as Luke strode up the wide front steps.

Luke, his shoes and jacket in hand, glanced at the reception desk as he entered the lobby. None of the people behind it looked very receptive.

He made his way across the expanse of mosaic tiles swirling together to form a tapestry of rich sandy tones. He diverted around colossal rugs, cushy lounge chairs and potted palms. Huge beige columns rose to the two-storey ceiling and bordered the domed mural on high. It showcased a midnight sky twinkling with stars, the edges decorated with palm leaves.

As a kid it had fascinated him endlessly; now it seemed just another relic of yesteryear.

‘Luke Hargreaves,’ Avery said, her voice full of accusation as he approached the desk. ‘Did you make Claude cry?’

Luke glanced at Jonah, standing behind Avery, who was sending him run away now signals with his eyes. Jonah knew as well as Luke that Avery was Claudia’s fiercest champion.

‘I’m rather afraid I did.’ He grimaced as he approached the desk.

Much to Luke’s surprise Avery’s shoulder’s sagged and she said, ‘Oh, thank God for that. She needed a damned good cry.’

The group all nodded in agreement, even Jonah. ‘Oh, yes,’ Isis agreed. ‘She’s been saying she’s fine and dandy for days now.’

‘Fine and dandy,’ Cyrus repeated. ‘Like a cracked record.’

‘Well...’ Luke shrugged ‘...mission accomplished.’

Luke was glad that little group were more relaxed and looking less like they wanted to hang, draw and quarter him. Apparently an upset Claudia was a good thing. But it didn’t help his guilt...the things he’d said had been fairly unforgivable.

He felt about as low as a man could feel.

He remembered all too well how it’d felt to be idolised by her and he much preferred that feeling. Although he’d certainly developed feet of clay as far as she was concerned since declining the opportunity to give up his entire life in the UK—no matter how shambolic—and manage the resort with her.

He glanced up the stairs behind him, then back to the group. He had to go and apologise. ‘Think I’ll go and see how she is. Say sorry.’

Avery shook her head. ‘No. That would be bad.’

Jonah agreed. ‘You should give her some time to cool off, man.’

Cool off? As if anyone could cool off in this God-awful heat without the electricity that usually cooled the vast lobby into a blissful paradise. The frustration that had ridden him down at the beach returned for a second spin and a sudden rush of bone-wearying tiredness joined the mix.

He was jet-lagged to hell and sweating like a pig in his inappropriate clothes, but he had to fix this.

‘Why didn’t you tell me on the chopper ride she was this fragile?’ Luke demanded of Jonah.

‘She’s not fragile,’ Avery said, rising quickly to Claudia’s defence.

‘You could have fooled me,’ he snorted.

‘She’s been working day and night organising everything like a Trojan, getting things into place so when the official all-clear comes tomorrow we can start the clean-up, not to mention having to deal with the two hundred guests we were expecting over the next few weeks.’ Avery glared at him. ‘And she’s been helping out in the town and at the other resorts. She’s been strong, she’s been a leader. She is not fragile.’

‘Then why is she bursting into tears?’

Avery shook her head at him and Luke felt lower still.

‘Because she’s exhausted. Because she’s stressed and worried. She’s barely slept a wink in five days. Because her entire life just got blown all to hell and maybe, just maybe, she’d thought you might be the one man who really understood her devastation. None of us here can truly understand how this disaster in this place she loves so much has wounded her. Except you. Is that what you did, Luke? Did you go down to the beach and tell her you understood?’

Luke avoided the doubt and reprimand in Avery’s gaze as guilt rode him again. ‘I asked you how she was doing,’ he said, turning to Jonah. ‘You said she was fine.’

Jonah nodded. ‘She is fine. And dandy. Considering everything she’s worked for this last year has been flattened to a pulp. She’s been keeping busy and putting up a good front for us all. But you’re family, man. Your opinion has always mattered more than anyone else’s.’

Luke scowled, hating that Jonah was right. He had lashed out and hurt her. ‘Right,’ he said after a moment. ‘So I’d better go and fix it, then.’

Avery made a tutting sound and it was Luke’s turn to glare. ‘What?’

‘I know you’re a man and all and it’s in your DNA to fix stuff but she doesn’t need that. She told us she needed some time alone and a smart man would just let her do it. And probably after that she needs you to shut your mouth and just hug her.’

Jonah nodded. ‘Give her some space, man. I wouldn’t add insult to injury if I were you.’

Luke knew it was good advice. But he couldn’t bear the fact that she was upstairs all alone crying because of the things he’d said. Claudia wasn’t a crier—never had been. She was bouncy and cheery and peppy.

She was a ray of freaking sunshine.

And he’d made her cry. He was responsible for her tears.

Luke shook his head. ‘Nope, sorry, can’t.’

And then he was gone and four sets of eyes watched him bound up the stairs following in Claudia’s footsteps.

Avery sighed. ‘And I thought he was smart.’

Jonah slid a hand onto Avery’s shoulder and squeezed as he pulled her gently back against his chest. ‘Even smart men can be stupid where women are concerned.’

She smiled and slid her hand over the top of his. ‘That’s true. You were pretty dumb.’

Jonah chuckled and dropped a kiss on her temple.

‘That’s not going to end well, is it?’ Cyrus asked his sister, agog that anyone would go against Claudia’s express wishes.

Isis shook her head. ‘His funeral.’

* * *

Luke’s feet took him without conscious thought to the door of the Copacabana Suite, the room where Claudia had lived with her parents since she was six years old. He and his parents had lived next door in the Mai Tai Suite. He hesitated before he knocked—maybe she didn’t reside here any more? Maybe she’d downgraded now her parents had moved on? It wasn’t as if a single woman needed a massive two-bedroom suite.

But the thought was only fleeting. Claudia Davis was as sentimental as they came. No way would she have passed up the nostalgia of her childhood home. Or the view from the balcony.

He knocked. No answer.

He knocked again. Louder. Still no answer.

‘Claude, I know you’re in there. Open up.’

No answer.

‘I can stand out here all day and knock,’ he warned, even if the thought made him weary to his bones. ‘Hell, I can just sit down here and wait for you to come out. You’re going to have to eventually. But I’m not going back to England. I’m not going anywhere for a week so you might as well get used to it.’

Still no answer. The door remained stubbornly closed. Luke sighed and slid down the door, propping his back against the dark grain wood. He was too bloody tired to stand upright. Despite the luxury of business class he hadn’t slept much on the plane—worry about the resort, about Claudia had unfortunately kept sleep at bay.

Luke rubbed his eyes and scrubbed at his face with his hands. He could hear the faint rasp of stubble already fighting back against the quick shave he’d managed in the restroom aboard the plane. He was used to keeping it ruthlessly smooth, and it bothered him—he really should do something about that.