Rock Star's Email Order Bride Read online

New staff? She hadn't approved any new staff. Something smelled fishy and it wasn't the farm's oysters. Xan strode after Baz, expecting trouble. She wouldn't be disappointed.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  IT'S BEEN DAYS, BABY. WHY WON'T YOU TALK TO ME?

  Days. How many days? Too many. He'd sent message after message, full of frogs and mermaids and other half-remembered fairy tale stuff, but Phuong hadn't responded. He'd scared her off by talking about knights and proposals, but he'd expected one of her sassy comebacks, not silence. Silence for fucking days. What'd he done wrong?

  Not drunk enough bourbon, that's what. Pity there was none left. He'd have to visit the bar and liberate some more.

  Maybe there was something in those romance books that he'd missed. After all, they were basically adult fairy tales, ending happily ever after with awesome sex. Everything should end with awesome sex. And start with it, too.

  Jay hoisted himself off the couch and padded outside. His bare feet made almost no sound on the sand as he avoided the well-lit public pathways by taking the secret jungle tracks he'd made in his time on the island. This one was the most well-worn, probably because it led to his two favourite places – the library and the pub.

  Not that he wanted to keep his visits to the pub secret. His trips to the library, however...what would people say if they saw him with an armload of romance books? Nobody would believe that he was trying to research the fuck out of the things.

  Because being a rock star wasn't enough.

  He knew that now. Now that he wasn't one any more, not really. He figured he still had rock god status, but he wasn't a star any more if he didn't perform.

  That's why he'd gone for a girl with a foreign-sounding name who was looking for a fairy tale, because he figured he could deliver on that bit if he just read enough of the right books. He'd read them again and again, the ones on mail-order brides. Until he knew what he'd done wrong. He'd send another message, the perfect one that made everything all right again, and she'd come to the island and they'd live happily ever after and shit.

  Yeah.

  He rounded the last palm tree, edging carefully past the spiky pandanus, before emerging behind Meier's house. No, not any more. Meier had left, hadn't he? There was a new manager. The bitch with the bucket, who'd tried to drown him the other day.

  Jason glanced at the veranda and grinned. The stacked boxes of supplies by her front door gave him a brilliant idea for revenge. Meier had always ordered a case of rum with his food order and there it was, right on top. He just felt like a drink, too.

  He ripped into the box and grabbed two bottles of rum. Tucking them under his arms, he whistled as he walked through the deserted staff dongas to the library. It wasn't open to guests yet, but that wouldn't stop him. His ID was a skeleton key, allowing him entry to everywhere at the resort. One swipe and the library door slid open to welcome him inside.

  The door hissed shut behind him and not a moment too soon – he heard male voices and approaching footsteps. Good thing he knew the resort's security system so well. Tapping his wristband, Jay set a 'do not disturb' sign on the library door, effectively locking it against everyone else at the resort. Now he could read in peace.

  Grabbing a book in one hand and a bottle in the other, he unscrewed the cap and took a swig. Fuck yeah. This was the life. Reading with rum. By the end of the day, he'd charm Phuong's pants off. Just like Americans in books did to their mail-order brides...

  TWENTY-NINE

  "So what brings you to Romance Island?"

  Phuong jerked awake, looking around for the source of the question. She sat up and spotted the woman who'd spoken, though she didn't look much older than herself. She looked a whole lot neater, though.

  Phuong glanced down at her own clothes, so covered in the road's red dust from walking on it last night that even she couldn't tell what colour they'd been originally. She wanted a shower and a lot of sleep, but she couldn't rest until she was safe on the island with Jason.

  "I...I'm sorry?" Phuong mumbled.

  The woman repeated her question.

  "Oh. I'm here for Jason. He told me to come."

  Suspicion narrowed the woman's eyes. "Jason? So you're a big fan of his, I take it?"

  How could she possibly explain to this stranger that she'd fallen head over heels in love with a man she knew better than she knew herself, but she'd never met? It sounded crazy even to her. "More than that. We're going to be married." Phuong thanked the dust caking her skin for covering her blush before she got her cheeks under control.

  Suspicion hardened to disbelief. "Married? Well, good luck with that."

  Tears sprang to Phuong's eyes. Did she doubt him? Had she driven all this way, through raging rivers and roads that stretched endlessly to the horizon, only to be disappointed in Jason, too? Jason would take care of her, she was certain of it. "I might not look like much, but I've driven all the way from Perth to see him. My car broke down on the dirt road and I walked, walked all night, until a truck picked me up and brought me here. They said there's a boat to the island. He's there. He said he would be. Jason's the sweetest, kindest, most charming man I've ever met, anywhere, and he'll marry me, just like he said."

  "He let you drive here, all this way, by yourself?"

  "He didn't know," Phuong whispered. "I wanted to surprise him."

  "I see." Judging by the woman's tone, she saw things that made her very thoughtful, but she didn't say any more.

  Phuong was too tired to care. So close to her final destination. The Englishwoman could keep her secrets if she just let her sleep a little longer...

  "So, getting along well, ladies?"

  Phuong had barely closed her eyes before the sun-baked man was back. She struggled to rise again.

  "We're done loading. First and final boarding call for the Argo travelling to Romance Island Resort. All aboard!"

  The Englishwoman climbed confidently into a seat at the front of the boat, but Phuong didn't feel that brave. She wasn't sure she'd trust any body of water for a long time yet. She huddled in a seat at the very back, partially sheltered under the canopy that housed the console where the skipper stood, and hugged her dusty bag to her chest.

  "The tide's almost in, so it'll be a calm trip today, ladies. Not like this morning, eh, Xan?"

  The woman in the front seat – Xan – laughed. "Next time, Baz. I'm hooked."

  "What about you, Phuong? D'you like thrilling rides?" Baz persisted.

  Phuong shook her head. She'd never been fond of Universal Studios or the waterslides back home. Rough rides and rollercoasters just weren't her thing at all. "I just want to get to the island in one piece," she said.

  "You will, sweetheart. We've never lost anyone overboard and we won't today. Keep an eye out for dolphins – I saw a pod this morning on my way out, but haven't seen them since. They're around, though."

  Phuong didn't respond. She was too busy fighting her rising panic as the boat took off like a car racing away from the traffic lights, pressing her back into her seat. It was sort of smooth at first, and she loosened her grip on the shiny metal bar beside her seat. She dared to glance up at the sea.

  Instead of the pale aqua surrounding the boat when she'd boarded, now the ocean stretched out in ripples of sapphire edged in white lace, all the way to the horizon. Waves...open water...and a grey fin slicing through the water. Sharks? The ocean was worse than any of the swollen rivers she'd struggled through to get here.

  Just let her make it to the island alive, she prayed. Not drowned or eaten by a shark or anything else...

  The boat flew up a wave and bumped into the bit in between. Her stomach swooped, promising she'd be sick if she'd stopped to eat anything before boarding the boat. The boat bumped again, harder this time, and a whimper escaped from her throat, one she hoped no one heard.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Phuong hung on and hoped. What more could she do? Jason waited for her at the end of this torturous trip, while behind was Norman.

  H
er stomach roiled as the boat rose and fell with the waves, speeding ever onwards. Phuong lost count of the number of times her teeth clacked together as the boat landed hard on water that felt as hard as rock. One thing was certain: she never wanted to set foot on a boat again.

  When she'd endured all the bumping she could take, the boat arced into a turn, throwing her against the side of her seat, before it shuddered to a stop. Phuong dared to open her eyes.

  The boat bobbed beside a wooden jetty that blocked her view of anything else. Baz began passing plastic-wrapped packages up to someone up top while Xan scaled the ladder and stepped out of sight.

  "We're here. Welcome to Romance Island Resort," Baz said, reaching for Phuong's bag.

  She surrendered it and watched it float out of sight as unseen hands lifted it onto the jetty.

  "Your turn." Baz jerked his head at the ladder.

  Phuong rose and grabbed the handrail. Her rubbery legs threatened to fold up beneath her. Six shaky steps took her to the edge of the boat. The first rung of the ladder felt warm to the touch. Her shoe slipped as she set her foot on one of the lower rungs, but she just tightened her fingers around the dry ones higher up until she regained her footing. Anything was better than the boat, she promised herself, as she hauled her exhausted body onto dry land.

  When both her feet stood firmly on the jetty timbers, Phuong dared to look up. What she saw dropped her to her knees.

  Paradise. Finally, she was home.

  THIRTY

  Bloody hell. She might be a crazed fangirl, but that didn't mean she didn't deserve help. Xan didn't doubt the girl's story for a minute, though she'd filled in the gaps with her own assumptions. Between the reddened eyes, shaky legs that barely held the girl's slight weight, and dust-caked clothes, she'd travelled a long way through trying conditions to get here. How that dickhead could inspire such devotion, she had no idea. Poor, pitiful... What was her name again? Fong?

  Xan offered the girl her hand and helped her to her feet.

  "The resort's this way. I'll speak to Reception and arrange a room for you."

  The girl's gaze dropped to her shoes. "It's all right. I can't...I don't...it doesn't matter." She swallowed. "Can I just see Jason?" There was a quiet desperation in her tone that squeezed Xan's heart.

  "Don't you want to freshen up first? Look your best and all? You won't be charged for the room." Xan hid her crossed fingers behind her back. The half-formed plan she'd devised on the boat depended on the girl holding Jay's attention long enough to distract him from both the staff and the way Xan ran the hotel. Half-dead and covered in a layer of dust so thick it had formed a sort of crust over her skin as it dried, Jay wouldn't look twice at her. She'd charge the room to Jay – it's not like he'd notice.

  The girl wavered. Xan smelled victory.

  "All right."

  Xan kept pace with the girl's stumbling strides until they reached Reception.

  Toby visibly sagged in relief. "Ms Lane, I've been trying to reach you for the last hour. There's a situation that needs your attention in the library..." He stopped abruptly when he caught sight of the girl.

  "Her car broke down on the Cape Leveque Road. Can you take her to a hotel room, please? And locate the owner. In the meantime, I'll take care of the library."

  Toby nodded smartly. "Yes, ma'am. If you'll put this on, miss, and follow me." He handed the girl a slim wristband that looked nothing like the bulky device on Xan's wrist.

  Xan waited for them to leave the foyer before she marched to the library. One of the IT guys – Cam? She'd have to go through the personnel files again and memorise those names, damn it – knelt by the door scanner, jabbing his finger at a tablet tethered to the scanner.

  "Fucking open!" he growled at the door. He resumed poking the tablet.

  "What's the problem with the library? Please tell me it's not Professor Plum with the candlestick standing over a dead body in there." At Xan's blank look, she added, "Cluedo? The board game?" She gave up waiting for recognition. "What's the problem?"

  "Annette from Housekeeping reported this morning that the door's locked. No one can get in, not even staff. The computer says someone's tripped the privacy lock on it, but that's not possible. Only guests can do that to their rooms. Staff can lock public areas, of course, but that comes up as a fault, not 'do not disturb'. And it won't tell me who the ID's allocated to. Just gives me a damn number!" He bared his teeth and actually growled.

  Xan wanted to laugh, but she had better things to do than listen to a tech guy's rambling. "So what do you expect me to do?"

  He stared at her, wide-eyed. "You're the manager, the only one who can override it."

  "Right." Xan lifted her wrist to the scanner and her wristband emitted a high-pitched beep. She peered at the display. "Will you look at that? It says the door's locked."

  "You have to hold it for longer."

  Xan leaned against the wall, her patience rapidly draining away. "How much longer?"

  A series of beeps chirped from the scanner before Xan's wristband flashed, asking her if she wanted to override the door lock. About bloody time. She tapped the screen and it went blank.

  "If that worked, then I should be able to – " Cam swiped his ID and the door hissed open. He sagged against the wall.

  An unholy stench rolled out of the library. Xan almost gagged. "Go check the guest register for Professor Plum," she managed to say before she pinched her nose shut. She should at least get a glimpse of the body before she called the police.

  There wasn't much blood, she noticed with some relief as she sidled into the room. The god-awful smell intensified, but she pushed on. The bookshelves looked pretty clean. Presumably that meant the body had been hidden pretty well, as it wasn't visible to anyone entering the room or walking past.

  Xan edged around the sofa before she spotted the corpse, sprawled out on the floor in the narrow gap between the sofa and the bookshelf behind it. The body twitched. Xan leaped back, swearing.

  "Fuck, pipe down," the body said, rolling over to squint at her. "How'd you get in here?" Jay knocked over a glass bottle, sending it spinning across the floor.

  "It doesn't matter. This is the guests' library. What are you doing here?" she demanded.

  Jay studied the shelves. "Looking for a good thriller. Lots of sex and swearing and shit. You know."

  "In the erotica section," Xan said flatly. Now she really wanted to laugh. The resort's Don Juan having to read up on sex? No, she didn't believe it.

  "Huh?" He didn't deny it – he just shrugged. "Gets boring without any company. No good-looking chicks on this island." A malevolent glare dared her to argue.

  Xan allowed herself a tiny smile. "Oh, but that's just not true. Your friend Fong arrived this morning."

  His eyes widened. "Phuong? She's here? Oh, thank fuck. Where is she?" He leaped to his feet, which might have been more impressive, if he didn't immediately slip over on the source of the stench. He scrambled up again. "Fuck. I need a shower." He grabbed a stack of books on the sofa, shoved past Xan and left. Sadly, the smell didn't go with him.

  "Oh, good, you got it open." Annette strode into the room, before she noticed the mess. Her face fell. "He was in the library? What was he doing here?"

  Xan surveyed the floor. "Well, it looks like he drank himself into a stupor, threw it all up over the floor and the bottom shelf of the BDSM section, then borrowed a bunch of books and decided to go home." She pointed at the vomit-covered books. "What do we do with those? Can they be cleaned?"

  Annette glanced at the shelf. "We'll just throw them out. No one will miss them."

  Xan bridled at the insult to readers and authors of erotica everywhere. "Now, hang on. I happen to know a lot of people read those books. The backpackers I worked at only had a tiny library, but those titles were the most read books we had. Surely there's something we can do to clean them."

  To Xan's surprise, Annette laughed. "Honey, that shelf's full of spare copies of the Fifty Shades books. We
have boxes of them in the store room and four shelves full of them in this room alone. Believe me, no one will miss a couple dozen spares." She winked. "And if you're after her new one, I'm almost finished with my copy. I can loan it to you after I'm done."

  Xan didn't know where to look. "All right then."

  Annette nodded. "I'll get a cleaning crew in here to sort this out so we can open the library for guests again. Hey, where are all those gone?" She pointed at an empty shelf bearing the sign: MILITARY ROMANCE.

  "Jay Felix just left with an armful of books. You don't think..."

  "God no!"

  They both laughed. A rock star who read romance books? Never happen.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Phuong stood under the shower spray until her road-dust body paint was nothing more than a small, muddy drift on the floor tiles, headed down the drain. It had taken her most of the complimentary shower gel and soap, but she figured that's what the hotel put them there for. She still wasn't sure she'd managed to shampoo all the sand out of her hair, but maybe she could brush it out when it dried. Reluctantly, she shut off the water and reached for a towel. Even the white flannel was its own brand of bliss – soft and thick, it enveloped her like a lover's arms. The sort who only wanted to cuddle and never, ever demanded sex like it was his right.

  No, don't think about that now, she told herself. Things would be different with Jason.

  Phuong looked longingly at the bed, wishing she could sleep for a week, but she didn't belong in this luxurious hotel room. She belonged with Jason. She had to find him so she could answer his proposal. How could she say anything but yes?

  The phone on the nightstand purred, pulling out of her reverie. "Hello?"

  "Is this Ph...Phu-ong?"

  "Yes."

  "I have a message for you. From...Jason. He says he'll be waiting for you at Villa Penguin, which is the last house on the path on the other side of the lagoon from the hotel. Awaiting your pleasure, when you're ready." The receptionist coughed. "Do you have a response for him?"