Paradise Found (4 page)

“And you?”

“I own Paradise Helicopters. I don’t agree with my father’s operation of resorts in such an ecologically fragile part of the world. My goal is to have less island development and more conservation. I love the Seychelles Islands and respect the leadership’s stance on nature conservancy.”

“As in limiting competition?” She took a sip of wine.

“Eden has competition, Miss Montcherry. I object to land banking with the hopes of changing government policy for unrestrained growth. The Seychelles must not go the way of the Caribbean, Tahiti or Hawaii.”

“You don’t want someone else doing just that!” Victoria rose, her stance and gaze unwavering. “I should have known you’d have some
modus operandi.
You take me to lunch, buy me a drink and think you can charm me into backing off from buying prime land, land I’m sure you and your father would love to have.” She was shaking with sudden anger. “As a native I have connections you can only dream of and it’s driving you crazy. Development of Eden Resorts is limited while the sky’s the limit for me.”

“No, Victoria, you’ll soon find that there are more limitations than you realize and for good reason.” Daemon leaned back in his chair and took a sip of scotch and soda.

The fire in her beautiful eyes would smolder once she began dealing with the Seychelles government. Not every country was interested in unrestrained growth and tourism. He knew that you should take only what you need. The beautiful blonde before him had a great deal to learn about her country. He could teach her.

“You hypocrite!” She turned on her heels and stormed down the deck.

After closing a land deal the next morning, Victoria left Praslin and flew back home to Mah’e. Still seething from her meeting with Daemon, she took a taxi to the government building in downtown Victoria. Dressed in a “power suit” of light gray pinstripes with a plain white blouse and gray pumps she was all business. She would show Daemon how a real resort developer conducted herself.

As she strode into the offices, the office staff in their cotton sundresses and sandals giggled.

“I’m Victoria Montcherry. I have an appointment with
Monsieur Edmond,”
Victoria said, approaching a cluttered wood desk.

The woman seated behind the desk stared at her, motioning to a closed wood door beyond. Victoria approached the door and knocked.

A voice from within called, “
Entrer
.”

She entered the plain office with its whitewashed walls and simple wood furniture. Standing near a metal file cabinet was a tall man attired in Khaki slacks and a short-sleeved cotton shirt. As his eyes met hers, he squinted.

“I haven’t seen a woman in a suit in years,” he said, grasping a stack of manila folders to his chest. “Who are you, a lawyer or something?”

“Someone who wishes to discuss island development,” she said. The inhabitants of the island were more backward than she remembered
.

“Have a seat.” The man plopped the stack of folders on his already laden desk and sat is his wood swivel chair.

Victoria took a wood seat across from him, his desk dividing them.

“So you’re Bessye Montcherry’s daughter?” he asked with an ivory grin. “All grown up, dressed up and ready for business.”

She didn’t like the tone of his voice. Just because women outnumbered men in the Islands and men could pick and choose, the men had an attitude of superiority and were proud of it. He was staring at her as if she were in the market for a male.

“Ready to discuss zoning, building codes, and issues regarding island development. Particularly, the development of luxury resorts.”

He sat back in his chair and chuckled. He reached under his desk and removed a thin volume. “Everything you need to know is in this book. I’m afraid it won’t be to your liking. From the number of prime plats of land you’ve purchased of late, I’m afraid only one may qualify as a viable site for a luxury resort.”

“Only one?” She took the volume he handed her and set it on her lap.

He nodded. “If you or anyone else were allowed to construct a resort on every piece of available land, this island would cease to exist as a paradise, no?”

“I disagree. The Islands would still be paradise but the economy would be enhanced by the additional tourism revenue.”

“Miss Montcherry.” He leaned forward on his desk and stacked his arms. “The Islands’ economy is built upon the tuna industry and spices. Tourism is secondary.”

“For now. In the future, things will change. The Islands can’t live in the past forever.”

“Read the book, Miss Montcherry, and you will learn this country’s policies. You are not the first to try to change them. Being a native does not provide you a golden key.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.” She stood, scooping up the book. “Good day.”

That night Victoria lay in bed, unable to sleep. Funny, she had fallen asleep reading the government policy’s book but, after digesting the words, she couldn’t close her eyes. She had changed but the Islands hadn’t.

Just like the bed she was in. The same bed she slept in as a child with its smooth headboard, lumpy mattress, and faded batik quilt. The fan pulsing overhead still squeaked. The blackness of the room was still disconcerting, as were the sounds of fluttering bats and hooting owls from the forest outside. For a moment she was a child again, frightened and alone.

She hated to admit, even to herself, that as an adult she was frightened and alone. At night, all the bogeymen in her life came back to haunt her, all the memories she would rather forget. Past events, people she had loved and lost, sacrifices she had made and dreams that remained unfulfilled.

The fear of failure permeated her mind. If she couldn’t develop the land she purchased, what would become of her life? Did she really have a life? No matter what she did or who she met, she always ended up alone. Nothing and no one was ever permanent in her life.

Except money. Through it all, she always made money. Money was supposed to buy happiness, wasn’t it?

Chapter 4

Daemon paced the floor in the lobby of the executive offices of Eden Resorts Seychelles subsidiary. Attached to the Garden of Eden resort on Praslin, the two-story structure was a maze of offices with an international staff of seasoned hospitality business people. As was customary on the Islands, everyone wore casual clothes and operated in slow motion.

The scene was far different from Eden’s main office in Singapore where the pace was hurried excitement with air stressful enough to cut. The Singapore office was the domain of Daemon’s father and was operated according to his demeanor and performance standards.

Daemon glanced at his watch, knowing that his father would appear promptly on time. Alexander Wells was a stickler for punctuality. He had e-mailed a short note the night before, informing Daemon of his decision to visit the Seychelles’ office. As was customary, Daemon was summoned to be at the offices to greet him.

Though Daemon didn’t technically work for Eden Resorts, a fact that both disappointed and angered his father, he did keep a close watch on the firm. As the reluctant heir, he had to know what was going on for future reference. As he looked about the office with its Steelcase cubicles and teak desks laden with computer equipment and papers, he realized why he preferred Paradise Helicopters. Flying a helicopter offered the freedom not found in offices. The management of a chain of resorts was as strangling as the necktie he was wearing. He had donned his one suit, a tropical cream linen, to please his father. As if he cared. He knew it would be one less thing for his father to complain about
.

The door to the office squeaked open and in marched Alexander Wells. As tall and fit as his son, his head of graying hair added dignity and the navy suit executive spit and polish. In one hand, he carried a leather briefcase. His other hand was extended to Daemon in formal greeting.

Daemon forced a smile as he shook his father’s hand. His father maintained his serious demeanor and squeezed Daemon’s hand hard before letting go.

“Hello, Daemon,” the elder man said without any hint of emotion.

Though he hadn’t seen his father in months, the greeting was as impersonal as that between business associates. Daemon had hoped for more but from past experience expected less.

“I take it your flight over was uneventful?” Daemon asked.

Instead of responding, his father perused the office. Upon the inspection, employees sat straighter and began to work at a faster pace than accustomed.

“Discipline. What the world needs is more discipline,” Alexander said behind clenched teeth. He pointed to an open office door. “We need to talk. Now.”

Daemon followed his father into the private office and closed the door behind. Alexander sat, placing his briefcase upon the teak desk and clicking it open. Daemon eased himself into a chair across from him, lounging casually.

Removing a stack of papers from his case, Alexander snapped the case closed and set it on the floor. As he shuffled through the papers his heated gaze met Daemons.

“I don’t like the reports coming into my office,” Alexander began.

Daemon sat back in his leather seat. “That’s not my concern.”

“Make it your concern.”

Leaning forward, Daemon smiled. “I don’t work for Eden Resorts or for you. I own and operate a helicopter service and am a pilot, nothing more.”

“Bullshit! You know you’re a part of Eden whether you like it or not. As my only child, the business will be yours one day. Isn’t it about time you face up to that fact and become responsible for once in your life?”

“I’m only responsible to Daemon Wells.” He met his father’s intense gaze knowing his words would cause the elder man to seethe. They always had.

“That’s your problem. You owe your ancestors and you owe me.”

“Owe not own?” Daemon grinned.

“I didn’t fly out here to argue with you.” Alexander withdrew copies of official documents and fanned them on the desktop. “I want to know what’s going on. I’ve been trying to secure some prime beachfront property on Mah’e for years only to find out that some native bought it at a cut-rate price right under my nose. That same native has purchased additional property on Mah’e and on Praslin, like the Seychelles are some sort of Monopoly game.”

Daemon reached out and grabbed the papers, copies of land purchase agreements. All of them had one name in common, Victoria Montcherry. He grinned. Though he had heard of the land purchases, the proof lay before him. The woman had been busier and bought more than he realized. She had money and future plans. For the first time, someone had outsmarted and out-purchased Alexander Wells. Served the arrogant bastard right.

“Who is this damn Montcherry person?”

“Victoria Montcherry is Seychellois, educated in the States and in Europe. A wealthy and astute businesswoman.” A beautiful woman and sexy as hell, he wanted to add but kept silent. His personal life was his own business.

“You know her?” His father’s brow’s shot up.

Daemon nodded. Not only did he know her, he wanted to get to know her better. He had one up on his father.

“I want her stopped.”

Daemon leaned back and crossed his arms, chuckling. “You know as well as I that the Islands aren’t open to development.”

“Thanks to the likes of you and your kind. I send you to the best schools. You earn an MBA from Harvard and for what? To thumb your nose at a lucrative hospitality career, to move to a remote island where you have the audacity to work with the Division of Environment, and fly helicopters for a living? I didn’t raise you to be a damn tree hugger!” A vein at Alexander’s temple was pulsing, as Daemon recalled it always had when his father was royally upset.

“What good is owning land if you can’t do anything with it?” Daemon met his father’s flustered gaze.

“I’ve been thinking about the future and you should, too.”

“You know, you should concern yourself with the present. The future will take care of itself.”  

Victoria walked to her rental jeep in the car park near the Valle’e de Mai, the “Valley of the Forbidden Fruit,” in Praslin National Park. Though the famed World Heritage Site was nearby, touring the primeval rainforest wasn’t on her agenda. She had just closed a crucial land deal on property adjoining the park that had some of the most valuable land on earth. Celebrating that accomplishment with a cold glass of wine was on her mind. As she slipped her key in the door lock, a voice called out to her.

“You need to reconsider the land deal.”

Victoria pulled out the key and whirled around to meet Daemon’s fiery gaze. “What the hell are you doing here? Stalking me?”

“I happened to be in the right place at the right time. Funny, I was to meet with Henri Rideau this afternoon and en-route I receive a strange cell call saying that our deal is off and his land has been sold.” He shrugged.

“Your deal?” She pondered for a moment. “Oh, I see, for Eden Resorts?”

He shook his head. “Wrong. I work with the Division of the Environment and the conservancy wanted the land to expand the National Park.”

“Since when did resort owners become environmentalists?”

“I told you. I’m not a resort owner.”

“Right. Just the Crown Prince set to inherit the kingdom
.
You know, from a marketing standpoint, by its location alone, this property could one day be valuable.”

“It’s already valuable. Ecologically, that is. This is precious land. Virgin land. Once destroyed, it can never be duplicated. Henri should be hanged for selling off paradise.”

“He’s a distant relative.”

“And isn’t aware of your true intentions?” Daemon placed his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t forget, Victoria, Islanders hold trust sacred. Once they realize you’ve broken their trust, you may as well pack your bags and be off.”

She trembled. Trust. In his eyes she saw sincerity as well as warning.

“I think you could learn a great deal about the true value of land. I have a proposition for you.” He removed his hands from her shoulders and grasped her arm, steering her from the lot. “Come, let’s go into the Valle’e and I can give you an intimate glimpse into the spiritual beauty of this place. If I can’t convince you, perhaps nature can.”

Victoria hadn’t been into the Valle’e de Mai since in grade school. Beneath the cathedral of towering coco de mer palms, the silence was striking and the pristine beauty overwhelming. Following the shady circular nature trail with its border of lacy palms, screw pine, guava and mango, she reluctantly walked with Daemon. Why she had agreed to accompany him for a stroll through the park was beyond her, yet a sense of calm washed over her. There was serenity amidst the flush flora and fauna surrounding her. She listened to the sunbirds, bulbuls, and fruit pigeons squawk high above in the treetops and the rustle of palm fronds, like sheet metal rattling, in the breeze, mist clinging in the humid air. She drew a deep breath of the fresh moist air. A breath had never been so refreshing, so comforting.

“Look, there’s a black parrot.” Daemon pointed up at a guava tree.

Victoria looked up, noting the solid black bird’s distinctive shrill cry on a far branch. A sighting of the elusive, national bird was rare.

“A sign of good luck,” Daemon said with a smile. “Though I’m already lucky, having met you in the parking lot.”

He had taken her hand in his as they continued to walk. The act seemed so natural she hadn’t noticed it until now. The realization sent her pulse racing. They winded down the sandy path, stopping to note a coco de mer nut set on a rock, its provocative heart shape reminiscent of a female pelvis. She had read that the nut was the largest and heaviest seed of the vegetable kingdom and one of the most unique. The fruit of “The Tree of Knowledge.” 

“You know that the nut has been used as an aphrodisiac, ground into a love potion,
nux medica
?” He winked.

“That’s more than I wanted to know.” She drew a deep breath, hoping to quell her racing heart.

He added, a caress in his voice, “Legend has it that the roots of the coco de mer grow deep into the bedrock of the island until they reach the sea. On a stormy night, the trees are awakened and move, coming together to make passionate love.”

Looking at the female nut and up at the male catkins dangling from the palms, she tingled all over. Being alone in a Garden of Eden with a man who reeked of testosterone added to the desire pulsing within. She couldn’t remember when she last had sex and that was a bad sign. Swallowing hard, she cleared her throat.

She looked up. Meeting his dreamy gaze, she thought she’d melt
.

Before she could respond, Victoria found herself in Daemon’s intimate embrace. Before she could object, his demanding lips were on hers. Held captive by his touch and taste, she found herself falling into a deep abyss of hot passion. She hadn’t been kissed so thoroughly, so completely for so many years, she savored the moment. As his tongue dipped deep into her mouth, she shivered hot and cold, responding without thought. On instinct, she molded against him, squirmed against his hardening passion with wanton abandon. Only when he released her, did the reality sink in that Daemon was the one who stirred her desire. She stared up into his handsome face, into those glittering sensuous eyes.

Victoria trembled. This was crazy. She didn’t know this man. Hadn’t decided if she even liked him. Yet, her body pulsed at the thought of him touching her, kissing her, bringing her to the brink of ecstasy and back. She wanted to feel his lips on her body, experience his fingers caressing her flesh, feel him thrust himself deep within her, losing himself in her. She hadn’t been lost in a man for so long, she shivered at the thought of it.

Lightheaded, Victoria stepped away from him and his heated touch and sat on a log at the edge of the trail. She had to clear her head and slow down the rapid beating of her heart. He joined her, sitting so close she could feel the warmth of his breath whisper across her cheeks
.

He grinned, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, you feel it. The attraction can’t be denied.”

“I didn’t come here to play tourist.”

She looked up as muffled voices grew stronger as they approached on the trail. A tour group was being led through the forest, their voices echoing in the misty air. The approach of civilization whisked her back into reality. Victoria shook her head, trying to clear the romantic fog that had enveloped her.

From behind, a child’s voice called out, pulling Victoria from her thoughts. “Mommy, where are the birdies?”

She glanced up to observe a little boy, barely school age, grasping his mother’s hand. His lanky stature, blonde hair, dark eyes and pale skin made her heart lurch. As he tripped on the sandy path, she reached out to grab him before he could fall. His warmth, fresh scent and soft form brought back long repressed memories and Victoria began to tremble.

“Thanks,” the child’s mother said, removing the child from Victoria’s grasp. “He’s so accident prone.”

“Do be careful,” Victoria admonished as the child and mother continued on their way. She watched until they disappeared from sight. Seeing little boys with their mothers always affected her. The “what ifs …” in her life rushed back with long-repressed emotions. Tears formed in her eyes and she had to swipe them and thoughts of the past away.