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Which was why it didn’t matter how handsome, or charming, Doyle Kingston might be with those deep-blue, nearly hypnotizing eyes, that short dark-brown hair, all tousled on his head, the thin layer of dark whiskers, the white oxford that showed off his tanned forearms, and the smell that drifted off him—the fresh shower, the soap, a hint of sandalwood, and maybe a little ocean breeze?—
Stop.
Why Declan Stone had hired him—well, he certainly hadn’t told her. And it had felt a little like a slap when she arrived to find Doyle wondering the same thing.
Codirector. She didn’t codirect anything.Hello.Why Declan had left that tidbit of information out of his offer, she didn’t know.
But she wasn’t turning around, thanks.
Bosswas right.
Now, Doyle nodded, his elbow out the window. “I think Declan’s back on the island. My brother Stein works for him—personal security—and sent me a text saying he was here.”
“I send Declan a weekly report, and he mentioned that.” She lifted a shoulder.
“You send him a weekly report?” He looked at her.
“Don’t you?”
He raised an eyebrow.
She refrained from shaking her head.
“Maybe Declan will get smart and give the entire operation to me.”Words she’d said to her sister Penelope, back in Minnesota, a couple weeks ago on the phone.
“I don’t know, sis. Conrad says his brother is pretty good at these humanitarian gigs. Spent a lot of his time on a disaster-relief team over the years, raising money and working with the locals.”
At the time, Tia had pictured her sister in her cute remodeled bungalow in Minneapolis, probably poring over research for her newest murder podcast. No doubt wearing the hockey jersey of her boyfriend, Conrad Kingston, who inconveniently had to be the older brother of said Doyle.
That was an unlucky coincidence. The last thing Tia wanted was for her complaint to make it to Doyle via her sister, via her boyfriend, via... whomever. His family seemed closer than most. You never knew when a Kingston would pop up—case in point, his brother Stein working for Declan.
She seemed to be surrounded by Kingstons.
“Just try to not be so bossy. Get along with him. You’ll find that he has more in common with you than you think.”
Doubtful.
At best, he would charm the donors, prime them for her big ask—to upgrade the medical clinic with a three-million-dollar renovation and equipment donation.
They bumped along on the coral-encrusted roads, past reconstructed neighborhoods, all the way to the city center, also rebuilt, with new two-story, Louisiana-style storefronts, metal roofing, and charming galleries with pillars supporting the long second-story balconies. Freshly planted palm trees edged the boardwalk, from which stretched the black sand beach. Hand-painted store signs gave the village a quaint feel, and with so few cars on the island, the cobblestone streets held mostly scooters, a few bicyclists, and a number of food carts.
Out in the harbor, sailboats attached to mooring balls stretched into a blue sky, and farther out, a cruise ship sailed south, probably on the way to St. Kitts.
She spotted the shipping harbor, a deep-water harbor, dredged out after the hurricane, that allowed for yachts and supply ships.
“There’s theInvictus,” Doyle said. “Whoa, she’s pretty.”
“Where?”
He pointed to the one-hundred-and-fifty-foot yacht owned by Stone, moored at his private dock in a channel cut out into the harbor.
“Wow. It’s three stories.”
“And has a helicopter. Holy cannoli. I can’t even imagine being that wealthy.”
Right.She glanced at him, said nothing. But yes, even her father, billionaire owner of the Pepper fortune, didn’t have his own helicopter, although he did own a nice chunk of a Caribbean island and a small yacht. And sure, she could ask her father for the money for the hospital. But he had his own charitable organization he was trying to keep funded, and frankly...
Frankly,she wanted to shake off everything that had to do with the Pepper name. Not forever... but... reasons.