Page 2 of Duty and Desire

Chapter One

Bora-Bora

Gio

I stood on the jetty, gazing out across the lagoon. I’d done some research—writer, remember?—and the photos of the islands had been pretty impressive.

They didn’t even come close to the beauty of the place, even allowing for the heavy clouds filling the horizon.

From the water, the land appeared lush and green, two peaks rising at the center of it.

I knew one of them was an extinct volcano.

A barrier reef surrounded the island, and the water went from dark indigo to pastel shades of blue and green.

I’d spotted corals close to the surface in places, and brightly colored fish swimming alongside the boat.

Little islets— motus— provided a rim of land, a border for the lagoon, and the airport had been built on one of them.

Roger’s bungalow was on the northern side of the island, close to Motu Mute where my flight had landed.

His instructions had proved perfect. The bungalow had a veranda on two sides, with a long walkway to connect it to the shore, a kind of bridge.

Two canoes were suspended from the side of the structure, above the small jetty that lent itself to sunbathing or swimming.

There was even a shower head. Once I’d secured the boat, I climbed the wooden steps onto the veranda to explore my home for the next four months.

The living room was on the left, comprising a couch and two armchairs, a coffee table, and a unit on which sat the TV.

At the end of the room, patio doors provided access to the rear veranda.

The kitchen was on the right, complete with marble countertops and a huge American refrigerator.

A marble-topped dining table and five chairs stood between the two areas, with a door leading to the bedroom.

I had to smile when I saw the bed. It was a king, a four-poster, draped in white gossamer fabric tied to the posts. Yet more patio doors to allow the occupant to walk outside onto the veranda. The bathroom contained a large walk-in shower and a bath.

Roger had said the refurbishment was almost finished. To my eye, it appeared ready for guests.

And yeah, I was happy with it the moment I laid eyes on it.

I opened the patio doors, and the first thing that struck me was the sound of the waves lapping against the stilts, a tranquil sound I could imagine lulling me to sleep. The deck comprised two couches for lounging on, a grill, and another table and chairs. A great spot for breakfast.

And writing. Perfect for writing.

Now all I needed were the words.

“Hello there? Mr. Gio?”

I went around to the side of the bungalow.

A woman stood at the gate separating the property from the walkway.

She wore a huge straw hat, a bright yellow flower adorning it.

She smiled, her face wrinkled, her eyes shining.

I estimated her to be in her fifties. Her longish white dress with its printed green flowers and leaves was simple but pretty.

“I’m Gio.” I opened the gate.

“My name is Aulani.” The lilt in her voice was charming. “Mr. Roger asked me to make sure you have everything you need. I look after a few bungalows on the island, including his when he stays here. So you’ll be seeing a lot of me.”

“I love your name.”

She beamed. “It means King’s Messenger . Will it be all right if I come twice or three times a week to clean for you?”

I held my hands up. “I can clean.”

Aulani shook her head. “Mr. Roger said I was to do it. He said you had better things to do with your time.” Her eyes twinkled. “He also said you’d know what he meant.”

I laughed. “I do indeed.” I gestured to the bungalow. “Please, come in.”

She dimpled, and I followed her indoors. She gave a nod of approval as she gazed at the interior. “I told those workmen if they left a mess, I’d take my broom to them.”

Aulani might have appeared to be a sweet lady with graying hair and a charming accent, but I got the feeling she could be a force to be reckoned with.

“Have you always lived here?”

Another nod. “All my life. My children are all grown up. They live in Tahiti.” Her face glowed. “I have four grandchildren.” She glanced at the kitchen. “You need to buy groceries? I can tell you where to go. There’s a public bus, but it stops all over the island, and it can take forever.”

I smiled. “Roger said he left me a buggy for getting around. I assume that’s across the bridge.”

She pointed to a hook next to the door, from which hung a key. “You can’t miss it. He painted it pink. And we’re talking really pink.” Aulani rolled her eyes. “I said to him, why not flowers?”

I snickered. I couldn’t imagine Roger riding around on a flower-covered buggy. Then again, a bright pink one?

“There are no stores on this side of the island,” she informed me.

“You need to go down the coast. Chin Lee Supermarket is good, but Super U To’a Amok is cheaper.

And if you want good wine, go to La Cave.

” She inclined her head toward the rear of the bungalow.

“You can take the boat if you like. Head south, and you’ll find Vaitape.

That’s where the stores are. You can moor at the ferry and boat point.

” She gave me a warm smile. “I’ll leave you to settle in.

I’ll be back tomorrow.” Then she peered at the room with a frown. “You have unpacked already?”

It was only then I remembered I’d been in such a hurry to check the place out that I’d left my cases sitting in the boat.

I laughed. “Not yet.”

“Then I’ll leave now.” She went to the door. “Oh. Mr. Roger said to give you the name of a good bar.” She pointed to the right. “You walk five minutes along the road, and you come to Te Moana Nui . Tell Kai I sent you.” She grinned. “But be careful. His cocktails can be dangerous.”

“I’ll bear that in mind.”

She glanced at the sky. “You might want to wait a while. There’s a storm coming.”

“Do you get a lot of rain here?”

She shrugged. “Nine days so far this month. Maybe a few more to come.”

I walked with her to the end of the bridge. “Thank you, Aulani.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Gio.”

I chuckled. “I’m going to be here for a while. Call me Gio, okay?”

Aulani nodded. “ Maeva i Bora-Bora .”

I took a stab at it. “Welcome to Bora-Bora?”

She beamed. “Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And with that, she walked slowly toward the nearest tree, where a bike leaned against it—next to a lurid pink buggy.

Aulani had nailed it. No one could miss that.

I spent the next hour unpacking and seeing what lurked in cabinets. Roger had thought of everything. I was so engrossed in my explorations that I jumped at the sound of thunder. I stood by the patio doors, watching the heavy clouds roll across the sky, the rain hitting the jetty?—

Filling the boat.

“Shit!”

I dove outside, climbed into the boat, and retrieved the tarp I’d seen folded at the rear.

As fast as I could, I pulled it over the boat and secured it, before retreating onto the veranda, my clothes clinging to me.

The breeze picked up, and despite the temperature, my skin felt chilled. I hurried indoors and stripped off.

He did say it was the rainy season.

Shopping could wait.

Te Moana Nui turned out to be a reasonably sized bar right on the water.

Most of it was sheltered from the elements, comprising glass-topped rattan tables and matching chairs, the bar at one end.

The roof beams supported a thick layer of straw, giving it a tropical appearance.

There was also outdoor seating, with thatched parasols to provide shade from the sun that seemed to have taken a vacation for the moment.

Only three of the tables were occupied, and the bartender was on his phone, scrolling.

A very handsome bartender, his arms covered in tattoos.

I strolled over to him. “Would you be Kai?”

He jerked his head up. “Yes.” His gray-green eyes twinkled. “Well, hello.”

“Aulani sent me.”

He broke into a huge smile. “She’s a treasure.”

I frowned. “You speak English with an American twang.”

Kai nodded. “Our teacher was American.” He gave me an inquiring glance. “Is this your first visit to the islands?”

“Yes. I don’t suppose you know Roger Farris. I’m staying in his property.”

I hadn’t thought his smile could get any wider.

“Roger. Good man. Likes his cocktails.” He passed me a folder. “Pick one. It’s on the house.” His eyes glittered. “You can’t beat a cocktail for helping you forget the world.”

I opened the folder and scanned the list. “In that case, I’m going to need a few.”

I had a list of my own.

Relax.

Drink.

Swim.

And wait for my writing brain to come back online.

How hard could it be, in such surroundings?