Rock Star's Email Order Bride Page 6

  Then there was Meier's easy acceptance of her contract variation. That didn't sit right. She'd never had a job in Australia where they hadn't told her that the probation period was a standard condition they couldn't change, but then she'd never been on this new visa, either.

  If she didn't know better, she'd swear there was something suspicious about this whole resort, but no one else in Broome had a bad word to say about the place. Unless you counted the cost of staying there, of course. Everyone wanted to visit and they bemoaned the fact that they couldn't afford it.

  Well, for now, it was her home, and Xan was determined to unravel the mystery behind this place. She slid out of the helicopter and breathed deeply. Salt, heat and humidity, with the sibilance of waves breaking endlessly on a beach somewhere through the palm trees and pandanus. If she closed her eyes, she could be standing on Cable Beach.

  Except there weren't any vehicles on the island – this place was an eco-resort, one that claimed to be so environmentally friendly even the wildlife welcomed guests to the island.

  Maybe the island's secrets involved the wildlife. Xan scanned the jungle, lingering on the glimpse of aquamarine that marked the lagoon. A resident sea monster, she guessed, before she burst out laughing.

  "What's funny?" Shou asked.

  Xan fought to regain her composure, waving her hands around. "Just wondering if there's a sea monster living in the lagoon."

  Shou shrugged. "When you've had a chance to go diving in there, Ms Lane, you tell me."

  The clouds overhead chose that moment to dump a downpour on her head, so Xan sprinted for the shelter of a nearby building, leaving Shou on the landing pad.

  Mysteries, a meeting with Meier and maybe even a sea monster – at least today would be different. Xan needed a distraction from the despair threatening to overwhelm her. Romance Island Resort promised to deliver that and more.

  FIFTEEN

  Phuong breathed a sigh of relief as her car started. Norman had kept her locked in the house for so long, she was scared the battery might have been flat. As it was, she intended to drive as far and as fast as she could away from Norman.

  She'd been stupid to waste so much time on a man who only saw her as his slave, someone he kept captive in his house for sex and menial work. She'd have been better off turning to prostitution like Lin had. Norman was right about one thing – all her efforts with him had been useless. She'd been useless. She had two-thirds of a business degree and she hadn't seen a losing deal even when she was in it. Perhaps her brother was right and educating her was a waste of money. How could she possibly save her father's company if she couldn't even negotiate a deal that resulted in her completing her degree?

  Two months with Norman that she had nothing to show for, except some additional cooking skills and the ability to feign interest in sex when she hated the man lying on top of her. She'd lost count of the number of times she'd wanted to vomit in his face instead of submitting to his disgusting rutting. It would be a long time before she wanted to share a bed with any man again.

  Well, unless he had the body of a Greek god, like Jason did. She'd make an exception for him.

  A mad plan formed in her mind. She'd go find Jason. Drive up to Broome and the resort where he worked and see if he truly was the man he said he was. After talking to him online for so long, she felt like she knew him as no one else did, and she couldn't deny she'd been fantasising about him since he'd first made contact with her. She'd made a mistake with Norman, but now she had a chance to start anew with Jason. University enrolment and the fee payment deadline were only weeks away; all that time she'd wasted with Norman had denied her this semester of study, but if things worked out with Jason, maybe she could enrol next semester. Yes. That's what she'd do.

  So she drove and drove and drove some more until dawn blazed on her right, half blinding her. Where was she? She'd been driving between creamy sand dunes for a while now and a sign pointing to a backpackers place guided her to a decision. That's where she'd sleep and when she woke, she could buy a map and keep driving to Broome. It couldn't be that far, surely, she thought as she collapsed on her dormitory bunk.

  Oblivion retreated when she heard voices murmuring in a language she didn't know. Her eyes snapped open and she leaped up, bashing her head on the underside of the bed above her. Bunk beds? She'd never shared a room before...before Norman. What she'd have given to be separated from him in bunk beds instead of forced to share his double bed. No more, though. She was free.

  The foreign couple stared at her, so she forced a smile and told them she was okay. She shouldered her bag and stumbled out of the room in search of a bathroom.

  Some time later, feeling freshened up but starving, she followed her nose to the kitchen. The smell of toast and bacon told her that she'd slept right through the rest of the day and into the next. In the huge communal kitchen, she found the couple who'd woken her.

  "Good morning," the girl greeted her with a strong German accent. "I'm Ria and this is Hans." She pointed at the man, who was now sniffing delicately at a sachet of vegemite, the salty Australian spread that Phuong knew was the best hangover cure known to man, if you could keep it down. "We're from Germany and we're travelling around Australia. How about you? Where are you from?"

  Phuong licked her lips. Should she say she was Aussie or Singaporean? Which would confuse anyone more if they were following her? Did it matter? "I'm driving up to Broome," she said.

  "Would you like company?" Ria offered. "We wanted to visit Broome, but it's so far to drive and the flights are very expensive. We can give you money toward fuel and help you drive, if you like." She added something in German to Hans, who stared at Phuong with interest.

  Phuong lowered her eyes under their scrutiny. "That would be nice. I've never been to Broome before. If you have a map and know the way...we could share costs." She didn't have any money – she'd paid for her accommodation with a credit card, too. So stupid. If anyone was following her, all they'd need to do was track transactions. She needed to visit a bank and fill the car with fuel before she left town and disappeared properly. "I'll leave in an hour – meet you here?"

  "Sure," Ria said, her friendly smile reassuring Phuong just the tiniest bit. No one would smile that happily if they knew they were driving with a fugitive. Her secret would be safe for a little longer.

  SIXTEEN

  "Ooh, you must be Ms Lane!" Pale blonde hair framing a pixie-like face, complete with a picture-perfect, pink frangipani tucked behind one ear, captured Xan's attention before she dropped her gaze to the receptionist's name tag.

  "Call me Xan, please, Heloise," she replied with a tight smile.

  Heloise flashed a set of impossibly white teeth before smothering her giggle. "If you say so, Ms Lane...Xan. None of us were sure how to pronounce your name. Is it short for Alexandra?"

  "No." Xan moistened her lips, suddenly wishing she'd had time to tidy herself up, and the drenching downpour hadn't helped matters. She was painfully aware of the difference between backpackers and this resort's elite clientele, and this vision of perfection whose only job was greeting guests brought it firmly into focus. Did all the staff look like they'd stepped out of the pages of a magazine? Would she be expected to do the same? If the resort had a day spa, she needed to book in for everything immediately.

  "Ms Lane?"

  Xan turned and found herself face to face with Max Meier, to her relief. He didn't look half as polished as Heloise. She hitched her smile back up. "As promised. Thanks for sending a helicopter."

  Meier nodded curtly. "With a storm forecast for the weekend, I wasn't taking any chances that the road would be closed. When that happens, flying's the only way in or out of here."

  Talk about remote. Xan found herself nodding. She'd heard horror stories about the Cape Leveque Road, though watching the rusty ribbon twist through scrubland as they flew up the peninsula this morning was the closest she'd ever come to travelling along it. "Good to know."

  He cough
ed. "Shall we go to my office?" When Xan nodded again, he led the way and gestured for her to take a seat before he closed the door. His steps were heavy as he crossed the room, his shoulders slumped as if he carried the weight of the world. When he sank into his seat, his knuckles whitened in a death-grip on the chair arms.

  He couldn't have had a worse week than hers, Xan mused. She'd never drunk so much bourbon in such a short time. She glanced around at the prints on his walls. There was a photo of him holding a giant fish, but none of anyone else. Maybe Meier didn't have a wife and kids.

  Meier pushed a stapled pile of papers across the desk. "Your amended contract." He clicked a pen several times, so it sounded more like a nervous tic than a firm cocking of a favourite weapon, and handed it to Xan.

  She set the pen down and perused the pages. At first glance, it looked identical. "Is this the same as the first one you sent?"

  "No." Meier leaned across the desk and flipped to the page about her probation period. "There. No probation. You start work on Monday as a permanent employee, once we've both signed the contract." He didn't meet her eyes.

  Xan stared at the space no longer occupied by the offending paragraph. A permanent job in paradise. Why did it seem too good to be true?

  "What's wrong? Now you've seen the place, you don't want to work here? Is that it?" Meier's eyes held a challenge. "I hope you haven't been wasting my time, Ms Lane."

  "No. I've signed all the rest of the paperwork and accepted the position. It's just...a feeling. Isn't there always a snake in paradise?" Xan attempted to smile, but worried that she'd produced a sick grimace instead.

  Meier started, then recovered so quickly Xan wondered if she'd imagined it. "We do get some gorgeous sea snakes in the lagoon. Part of living in a tropical paradise." He nodded at the contract. "Aside from the deleted clause, I assure you it's identical to the one I emailed you originally. Are you going to sign it or shall I call the pilot to take you back to the mainland?"

  Give up now? Had Meier found someone else he preferred to give the job to, after all the paperwork she'd filled out? No way in hell was she going home now. There was nothing left for her in the UK.

  Xan scrawled her signature on the contract, not caring if it was legible or not. "Of course not. I'll see out my contract and when the first year's up, perhaps even extend it. Sea snakes don't scare me, Max. I've swum with sharks and I'll do it again." She pushed the papers back to him.

  His breath hissed out and he deflated. She expected him to look defeated, but Meier seemed relieved. Maybe he hadn't wanted someone else in the job, after all, but was being pushed by the owners to take on a different applicant. Too late now – the contract was signed. The position was hers and no one else's.

  "So, what now?" Xan prompted.

  "You'll start work on Monday morning, as we discussed. Your office and accommodation will be ready for you then, too. In the meantime, I'll get Heloise to arrange a guest room for you in the hotel. You can spend the weekend exploring the island, seeing what we offer our guests, before working on how you can improve on the experience Monday morning." Meier tapped on his computer keyboard. "Meals and everything are included, of course. We have award-winning chefs in our restaurant, as it's what our high-profile clients expect." He rose and offered his hand. "Welcome aboard, Ms Lane."

  She shook his clammy hand, then tried to surreptitiously wipe hers on her shorts. Whatever secrets this place held, it had to be better than arguing over ten-dollar forks. As for the frog freak-outs...well, she wouldn't miss the screaming.

  SEVENTEEN

  Phuong wanted to scream until she ran out of breath.

  "We should have stopped at that roadhouse," Hans lamented for what Phuong thought was the third time. She hunched over the steering wheel and kept driving, wishing he'd shut up, but he didn't. "I saw clouds over there and it looked like rain. If we camp, we'll get rained on when that storm comes in. We should go back to the roadhouse."

  "The mini one? They only had motel rooms and they were full. Besides, that was over a hundred kilometres back. Those clouds were in the east. Everyone knows the weather comes in from the west here. We're better off camping, Hans. Where's your sense of adventure?" Ria's enthusiasm was almost as grating, Phuong decided. "We should stop soon. There's a bridge ahead. That means a river. That would be a good place to camp."

  Phuong rubbed her eyes and managed to discern the bridge in the distance. She couldn't see much in the way of water beneath it, but she did need rest. Not to mention Hans and Ria would hopefully be silent while they slept.

  Sleepily, she followed Ria's directions as the girl pointed to a track that led from the road down to the dry river bed. She didn't follow the track, though – her little hatchback wasn't a four-wheel-drive and the steep incline didn't look like something her car could handle. She mumbled something to that effect and Ria nodded cheerfully as they ground to a halt in the gravel beside the road.

  Not for the first time, Phuong wondered if the girl was on some kind of drugs. No one could possibly be that happy all the time.

  Hans continued moaning about camping in the rain until Ria agreed to set up camp under the bridge, in the dry river bed. Well, almost dry. Hans had sounded almost venomous when he shouted back that there was water in the river. A trickle, but it was still water.

  Phuong leaned against her car until Ria shouldered her last bag and headed down the incline with it. With no camping gear to speak of and only a small bag of clothes to her name, Phuong intended to sleep in the car, where snakes and all manner of creepy crawlies couldn't get to her. Camping was for crazy backpackers.

  Sighing, she pushed the driver's seat as far back as it would go and pulled out her phone. She hadn't checked her email since she'd left Norman's flat, even though she'd heard the trill of incoming messages in Geraldton.

  The first one she clicked on was from Jason. He'd taken a picture of himself in some kid's inflatable boat, so small his legs stuck over the side, centimetres above clear water that was teeming with what looked like baby sharks. Whatever they were, they weren't much bigger than his feet. Beneath the picture, he'd written: "Maybe you're a little mermaid and that's why you haven't given me your answer? Pick up your shell-phone, sexy siren. Save me from this shark-infested shipwreck so we can live happily ever after."

  For the first time in days, she smiled. If her phone had had a signal, she'd have replied on the spot with a resounding yes. She wanted to shout it so loud that her voice rolled across the scrubby desert vegetation, all the way across the sea to his lonely island. Where she'd join him soon.

  Cuddling her phone to her chest, Phuong sank into sleep. Everything would be better in the morning.

  EIGHTEEN

  For a long time, Xan stared at the tiny bottle of bourbon from the hotel's mini-bar. It wasn't big enough to deaden the pain tonight. She'd have to go to the bar if that's what she wanted. Hauling herself to her feet, Xan peered at her reflection. Bloodshot eyes and a red nose from crying too much. Jerome didn't deserve a single tear from her, but she'd shed thousands in the nights since she'd learned of his betrayal. The cowardly bastard hadn't even tried to apologise – he hadn't called or emailed or even sent her a damn text message. Did he know how many hot men she'd turned down during her trip? A veritable army of Flying Frog Men. Being faithful to that faithless toad. She could've had hot sex every night of the week instead of just imagining it.

  Xan burst out laughing. As if she'd ever done that. When she'd slept with Jerome, it had been short and sweet, that's all. Hot sex was the stuff of the battered books left behind at the backpackers. One-night stands weren't something she'd ever done. Why start now?

  Because the biggest bastard in Britain had broken her heart and for this weekend, she was just another anonymous guest in paradise.

  For a moment, she considered it. Going to a pub to shag a sexy stranger? Why the hell not?

  She washed her face in the basin, scrubbing at her skin until all traces of tears were washed away. No
amount of concealer could hide the dark circles under her eyes, but bars didn't have the brightest lighting, anyway. A bit of bright lipstick and swapping her shirt and shorts for her little black dress would do, surely.

  Her heels ticked on the tiled floor as she made her way down the corridor, past Reception and into the bar. The Jungle, it was called, and the potted palms scattered around made it look like the vegetation outside. Weaving her way through tables and trees, Xan found the place surprisingly empty for a Friday night. Not like the Roebuck Hotel or Divers Tavern back in Broome – the bar at either of those would be crowded three or four deep by now, yet she stood alone at this one, with the bartender's full attention.

  "What can I get you?" he asked easily.

  A whole bottle of bourbon, she thought but didn't say. Drinking herself under the table wasn't the best way to seduce a man, or not the sort she wanted, anyway. Xan raised her eyes to the menu on the wall.

  "You know your first drink's free, don't you? Your warm welcome to the resort?"

  Xan didn't, but she wasn't sure that applied to her, anyway. "I'll have a beer. What do you have?"

  The barman grinned. "The best beer we have here is local. Once you've tasted it, you won't want anything else. I'll start you off with a mango – "

  "No!" Xan interrupted. "If you have Matso's, I'll take the ginger. With plenty of ice."

  The barman raised an eyebrow. "Not your first time here, then." He jerked his chin. "ID."

  Xan almost laughed. Did he think she was under eighteen? He wasn't laughing, though, so she fumbled for her wallet.

  "Not that kind." He tapped his wrist, or, more accurately, the oversized digital watch he wore. "Your resort ID."