Page 6 of Duty and Desire

Chapter Five

Gio

“ M orning, Gio.”

I turned my head toward the side of the bungalow. “Morning. I thought you didn’t work Sundays.” I closed my laptop.

Aulani appeared at the corner of the veranda, wearing one of her colorful dresses, her straw hat in place as usual.

“That’s because the last few Sundays I was looking after my cousin.

He’s been in the hospital, and he needed a little help around the house.

” She peered through the open doorway into the living room, and tut-tutted.

“What do you do, clean the place before I get to see it?”

I chuckled. “Okay, there’s something you need to know about me. When I get immersed in something, I become a bit of a slob.”

She ambled into the bungalow. “What do you write anyway? You never did tell me.”

“Books. I write books,” I quipped.

Well, that was the general idea .

She glanced up from stacking the magazines in a neat pile, and rolled her eyes. “Funny man. So do you write thrillers, horror, crime, romance?” Her lips twitched. “I read some Harlequin romances once.” She grinned. “Not enough blood for me.”

“Aha.” I shook my head. “You give this impression of being a sweet lady, and yet underneath…”

“And you still don’t answer my question.” She folded her arms. “What was your first book about?”

I could talk about that.

“I wrote a story about a guy who escapes from someone who’d abducted and abused him.

I wrote about his struggles to become the person he’d been before all that happened, his pursuit of justice…

And in the end, he accepts that he’ll never be that person again.

He’s stronger, more resilient, and determined to live every day to the full. ”

A ton of research had gone into that book. In the early days of writing, I’d write a couple of lines, then analyze them to death, deleting, polishing, redrafting…

I was amazed it had only taken me two years to write it. The following books had taken less time, but I was still a perfectionist.

A trait that had bled into all the corners of my life, unfortunately.

“And are the rest of your books like that? Mr. Roger says you’ve written seven or eight.” She flushed. “I had problems writing essays in school. Anyone who can write that many words is to be admired.”

“My books usually center around one person who is surviving some kind of crisis, be that physical or emotional.”

She peered past me to the table, and her eyes lit up. “You’ve been writing.”

I laughed. “Nothing gets past you, does it? Yeah, I’ve been working on a few ideas. I had a little inspiration, thanks to Kai.”

Her thinning eyebrows shot up. “You writing about Kai?” She snorted. “Then I guess there’ll be a lot of sex in this book.”

I tried not to smirk. “Whatever can you mean by that?”

She grinned again. “Kai has an eye for a pretty face, whether it belongs to a boy or a girl. ”

“You’re okay with that?” My research had been correct: Bora-Bora was LGBTQ+ friendly. But sometimes the older generation weren’t of the same mindset.

My nonna was proof of that.

Aulani waved her hand. “It’s all love, isn’t it?” There was that lip twitch again. “Well, maybe not in Kai’s case. That boy’s more interested in lust than love. He’s always got a different girl in tow.”

“He can keep the girls. Now, I might give him some competition for the boys,” I added.

Aulani’s cheeks pinked. “Ah. Okay.” Then she frowned. “So if you’re not writing about Kai…”

“He pointed someone out to me. Nick. He didn’t give me a last name. He does all kinds of jobs across the island.”

Her face lit up. “I know Nick. Have you met him?”

“Well, seeing as he took me on a boat trip around the island… Which was amazing, even though I left a whole load of groceries in the boat—in the heat—while I went off enjoying myself.” I gave a rueful smile.

“And before you give me a lecture on how not to give myself food poisoning, I bought a second lot of groceries. So how do you know Nick?”

She shrugged. “I see him around a lot. He’s an interesting one. The kind of person who makes you wonder about him.” Her brows knitted. “And worry.”

“What do you mean? Why should you worry about him?” I hadn’t sensed anything similar.

“Nick is a sweet guy, and maybe people take advantage of that.”

I smiled. “I think he can take care of himself.” That was just my instincts talking. “He seems pretty switched-on.”

Her frown deepened. “‘Switched on’?”

“He appears to know what’s going on around him,” I explained.

Aulani let out another snort. “Then he doesn’t know enough. That boy has got himself a stalker.”

I froze. “What makes you say that?”

She gaped at me. “I have eyes, that’s why.

There’s this guy who’s always near him. Now, Nick never pays him any attention.

Maybe that’s because he truly doesn’t see him, or because he doesn’t want to see him.

” She brought her hand to her chest. “Maybe he made a play for Nick and got rejected, but he can’t take a hint. ”

I gazed at her, my mind firing up. “Is that you being imaginative, or is Nick into guys? Or is he straight and that’s why he told this guy where to go?”

She coughed. “Not my place to say.”

I cackled. “It’s a little late for that, Aulani. You just let the cat out of the bag.” Maybe not all the way out, but there was definitely a paw visible.

She cleared her throat. “I’ve seen him maybe twice with a boy. There is a girl who visits the island a lot, but I can’t decide if she’s a friend or more than that.”

“What’s this stalker like?”

She snickered. “He’s big. Not too tall, but well-built.

Looks as if he could take care of himself in a fight.

” Her eyes gleamed. “Next time you see Nick? You keep an eye out for this guy. You see if I’m right.

” She pointed to the table on the veranda.

“Now you go back to your work and let me tidy this place without you under my feet.”

I chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.” I retook my seat and opened the laptop.

Her suggestion of a stalker provided another avenue. Perhaps my darker plot ideas were closer to the mark than I’d imagined. This guy could have tracked Nick down despite witness protection. Or else he was the cop chasing Nick, determined to drag him back to his home country.

Wherever that was. My money was someplace in Europe.

Except I knew thinking about it would not be enough.

I had to see this for myself.

I shut the laptop down, closed it, and carried it into the bungalow. Aulani gave me a quizzical glance and I smiled.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be in your hair. I’m going out for a while.”

“That’s fine. I have my key from Mr. Roger. I’ll lock up when I leave.” That twinkle in her eyes told me she knew exactly what I was up to.

I grabbed the keys for the buggy and crossed the bridge. It wasn’t until I sat on it that I realized I had no idea where to find Nick.

What am I going to do, drive around the island searching for him?

Yeah, like that wasn’t weird as hell.

I mulled over what I already knew about him. I’d seen him on a beach, at the ferry point, behind a counter at a tourist stand… And if I did find him, I didn’t want him to notice me.

I was only doing this to prove—or disprove—Aulani’s theory.

It took me an hour to track Nick down. I’d revisited all the places I’d seen him, but with no success. Then it occurred to me the one place I hadn’t retraced my steps to was Kai’s bar.

But why would he be there? He didn’t tend bar with Kai, that much I knew for certain.

It was a long shot, but worth a look.

I pulled up in the parking lot and switched off the engine. I needed to do this as surreptitiously as possible: running into Kai would involve becoming embroiled in a conversation, thus drawing attention to myself, and that was the last thing I wanted to do, especially if Nick was there.

Maybe my next book should be about a secret agent. Lord knew, I felt like one right then.

I stuck my head around the doorway. Kai stood with his back to me, talking with a bar patron. From what I could glean, they were discussing football. Half the tables were occupied, and I scanned each one, searching for Nick.

The irony of the situation didn’t escape me. I’d become Nick’s stalker.

Then I saw him, seated under a parasol at the far end, overlooking the lagoon. He wasn’t alone. A young woman sat facing him, and they appeared to be engaged in a deep conversation.

Maybe this is the girl Aulani spoke of.

She was pretty, with long, straight hair caught up in a ponytail. She looked like a tourist: sunglasses, shorts, a pink top, and sandals. When she took Nick’s hand in hers, it was an affectionate gesture.

Nick glanced in my direction, and for one heart-stopping moment, I thought he’d seen me. Then I saw where his gaze alighted, and my heart jerked into action.

A broad-shouldered, well-built man sat with his back to me. He wore jeans and a jacket, which seemed a little incongruous when compared to the rest of the bar’s patrons. I couldn’t see his face, but it was obvious he was watching Nick.

Is this the stalker?

Nick gave him a brief stare, his face contorted, then returned his focus to the woman. That expression told me one thing.

Nick wasn’t happy to have the guy there.

I withdrew, anxious not to attract either Nick’s or Kai’s attention. I climbed back onto the buggy, turned the key, and drove out of the parking lot.

There was only one way to proceed.

I had to talk to Nick. Aulani had wondered if he knew about this guy, and I had my answer to that question. But that unhappy stare had gotten me wondering.

Could I help him?

I’d gone from writer to white knight in a heartbeat.

I was on a mission.