Formula for Passion. Yahrah St. John

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Formula for Passion - Yahrah St. John Mills & Boon Kimani

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that adorned the windows.

      “But you and your family are featured in this month’s Essence magazine, are you not?”

      Courtney nodded. “Yes, we are.” She’d forgotten that Ethan had arranged for the Adams and Graham family to be spotlighted in the magazine.

      “Then, you’re a celebrity,” the hotel manager said. “My name is Miguel and I will be happy to assist you during your stay at Sea Breeze Resorts. We’ve arranged an excellent suite for you with a majestic view of the ocean from your terrace. You’ll love it.”

      “Thank you so much,” Courtney replied. Typically, she was in more cosmopolitan places like New York and Paris. She rarely got to go someplace warm, let alone frolic on the beach. And she intended to do a lot of frolicking on her stay. She’d promised Kayla she would get the wanderlust out of her system, and she intended to do just that.

      With all the wedding planning for Gabby, who was inept at fashion, Courtney had been on a self-imposed male hiatus. It was time she had a little fun.

      “Allow me to show you to your room and once you’ve had time to freshen up, I can give you a tour of our fabulous resort.”

      “That sounds great.”

      An hour later Courtney had showered in her oceanfront suite. She was duly impressed with the seven-thousand-

      acre resort and could see why Shane and Gabby had recommended it for the shoot and her stay; it was nothing short of phenomenal. The resort was upscale and infused with modern sophistication and Asian twists in its furnishings and architecture. It was as if the owners had thought of every possible amenity from the infinity-edge pool, the fitness center, the tennis courts to the spa. The manager had indicated there was horseback riding, Jet-Skiing and windsurfing too. It was going to be a great trip, complete with a photo shoot and commercial for Bliss’s new campaign.

      Thanks to Miguel, she was sat at the chef’s table with several other high-profile guests and enjoyed a delicious four-course meal later that evening. Although dinner was incredible, it was three hours long and Courtney was eager to depart and get some rest after flying; tomorrow she would explore the island.

      * * *

      “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Courtney said, pulling her rental car over along the side of the highway. Despite Miguel’s insistence that she take a hired car, Courtney had decided to tour the island herself without a guide. She hated to be tethered down to a set itinerary, and she’d had a good time driving around the island all day. But this was not on the menu.

      Courtney jumped out of the Dodge Charger in her shorts and tank top and stared down at the rear driver’s-side tire. She had a flat. She’d never had a flat in her entire life, and she certainly didn’t know how to change one. She glanced around the dirt road but didn’t see a car in sight. She’d passed a gas station a couple of miles back, but that was quite a hike. Courtney glanced down at her Manolo Blahnik shoes. They were not made for walking, especially not in ninety-five-degree weather.

      It was already sweltering hot outside. The sun was high overhead and Courtney could feel the first beads of sweat beginning to form on her brow. She hated to sweat unless she was playing a sport or being active in her favorite spot: the bedroom. She leaned inside the window she’d rolled down earlier and grabbed the bottled water she’d been smart enough to bring, then took a generous swig.

      An hour later, the afternoon sun was baking her delicate café-au-lait skin, so Courtney pulled out the car manual and reviewed how to change a tire. It might as well have been written in Portuguese. She only spoke fluent French and a little Spanish, so she couldn’t make heads or tails of it. She would have to fly solo. Courtney opened the trunk and took out the donut from the floor. She found some device called a lug wrench and what she could only assume was a jack to lift the car.

      She was bending down to take the lug nuts off the hubcap when she heard the roar of an engine coming down the highway. She had a savior, thank God!

      * * *

      Jasper sighed wearily as he drove back to the resort in his pickup. He’d had a long first day. After completing the usual employment paperwork, he’d met up with the superintendent of the construction company to walk the site. He had put on his hard hat and steel-toe boots and followed him outside. The superintendent had introduced him to his laborers as well as several key subcontractors, such as the electrician, plumber and finisher and painter. Jasper shook hands with each of them. He intended to talk to them extensively, on the sly of course, to see if he could figure out exactly what was going on at his hotel.

      The day had been long. Jasper had forgotten what backbreaking work it was to be in construction. He was ready for a nice hot shower and to change into his linen trousers and Tommy Bahama polo shirt. That is, until he saw a statuesque beauty bending down on the side of the road, wearing skimpy shorts and a formfitting tank top.

      As he stopped his truck on the opposite side of the road, he got a nice view of her well-shaped behind. He was admiring the view when the beauty gazed up at him. With her hand shielding her face from the sun, she yelled, “If you’re done staring at my butt, would you care to lend me a hand?”

      Jasper smiled broadly as he jumped out of the vehicle. A woman with attitude! He liked her already. “My, my,” he said as he crossed the road, “someone is sure testy.”

      “You would be too if you’d been standing out in this blistering heat for an hour. I have delicate skin.”

      “I bet.” Jasper chuckled. He was unprepared for the sight that greeted him once he got up close and personal. The woman was tall in what had to be four-inch heels, but that wasn’t all. She wasn’t just beautiful, she was breathtaking. She had creamy latte-colored skin that complemented her sleek, sophisticated bob with honey-blond highlights. And, well, her green eyes were nothing short of arresting! They stopped him dead in his tracks.

      Courtney sighed wearily. She was used to men’s reactions toward her looks, but there was something about this one that was a little bit different from the other men she’d encountered. There was something strong about him and his dark chocolate skin that appealed to her on a physical level. She guessed he must be six foot two, maybe three, and despite his less-than-desirable attire of ripped jeans and a T-shirt, he smelled all man.

      “Well, are you going to help me or not?” she asked. “Or do you always stare at ladies dumbfounded? I doubt that gets you very far.” The second the words were out of her mouth, Courtney realized she sounded a bit harsh.

      “Listen, lady.” Jasper quickly snapped out of his daze at her tone. “It’s you who needs my help, not the other way around.” He glanced down at her attempt at changing a flat tire.

      Courtney stood up straight. She’d never had someone give it back to her like that, and she had to begrudgingly admire it even if she didn’t like it. “You’re right, so if you would please be so kind as to help me out of a pinch, I would appreciate it.”

      “That’s better!” Jasper walked around the entire length of her rental car and then stated, “Can’t do it.”

      “Well, why the hell not! It’s just a flat tire,” she responded gruffly.

      Jasper laughed at her indignation, which only infuriated Courtney further. She stomped toward him, giving him a great view of her pert bosom in the formfitting tank top. “Because, my dear, you have two flat tires.” He inclined his head in the direction of the passenger’s-side rear tire.

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