Page 1 of Storm Warning
Chapter 1
Arrival
Kate hadnothing left to give—not to her readers, not to her publisher, and certainly not to the grinning chauffeur holding open the limo door. She stared at the grand entrance of the Ivory Sands resort, her reflection ghosting across the tinted window—hollow eyes, pallid face, a woman running on fumes. She came to relax and recharge, but all she could think was,What if it’s not enough?The question clawed at her ribs, tight and suffocating.
She fished around on the floor for her shoes, fingers brushing against the cool leather before slipping them on, stiff muscles protesting with sharp twinges that shot up her calves. The night air caressed her skin like silk as she stepped out, and she sighed in pleasure as she inhaled the luscious scent of jasmine mingling with the crisp sea breeze tasting of salt and promise. The stress gripping her loosened a fraction.
“Head on up to reception, ma’am, and I’ll bring your luggage along,” the driver drawled, his accent warm as melted butter. She flashed a brittle smile in thanks.
The entry doors opened into a glass atrium soaring four stories tall, its curved panels reflecting the deepening twilightin sheets of amber and violet. Kate’s breath caught at the tropical paradise greeting her. Full-sized palms stretched toward the ceiling, interspersed with flowering trees—some with white blossoms glowing like stars, others dripping with brilliant-colored flowers that perfumed the air with sweetness. Elevated walkways wound through the canopy like suspended rivers, a restaurant nestled among the branches, its tables glowing with muted golden light.
Below, crushed coral paths meandered past water features sending gentle cascades trickling over stone, the sound washing through the room like whispered secrets.
The pathway led her from the atrium into the classical lobby, and the transition stole what little breath she had left. Polished marble floors stretched before her in sweeping patterns of cream and gold, anchoring the grand piano, and reflecting the massive crystal chandelier overhead like a second sun. Everything gleamed with old-world elegance—luxury that whispered rather than shouted.
Kate’s stomach twisted. She didn’t belong here. This was the kind of place celebrities vacationed, where oil barons and tech moguls brought their mistresses. Not where a mid-list author with decent sales but with one foot always in the remainder bin should be. But she had needed a vacation, and ended up having to write on it as well, so this was the compromise: her publisher was paying for half her stay to compensate for effectively canceling her vacation. She had only 3 weeks to finish her book.
Please God, let it work.
Reception sat tucked behind an archway of flowering vines, elegantly appointed with desks of rich mahogany and bamboo rather than the normal boring counter.
Kate crossed the lobby, her heels tapping against the marble, and sank into a plush rattan chair. The cushionembraced her aching body, and for a moment, she wanted to melt into it and never move again. For weeks, she’d run on caffeine, adrenaline, and sheer willpower, but now it barely kept her upright. Her eyelids drooped, gritty, even blinking now a chore.
“Good evening. My name is Lena. Are you checking in?” The voice was bright, genuinely cheerful—not the manufactured hospitality Kate usually encountered.
Kate automatically cataloged Lena’s gorgeous silvery-blond hair that caught the light like spun moonlight and unusual turquoise eyes. Young, early or mid twenties, with the kind of looks that made her a shoo-in for a character in her next book—if Kate ever finished the current one. A fae princess escaped from Fairy. The familiar anxiety twisted in her gut.
“Yes,” Kate forced her foggy brain to think, pushing through like she was moving underwater. “My name is Kate Danvers. I have a reservation for Sunset Villa for three weeks.”
Lena’s fingers danced over a hidden keyboard behind the sleek desktop. The scent of fresh plumeria from a nearby vase mingled with a subtle hint of jasmine still clinging to the air from outside.
Uncertainty flickered across Lena’s features. “I’m sorry, Ms. Danvers, but Sunset Villa is not available. We only have single rooms at this time.”
The words hit like ice water, cutting through the fog. Kate’s stomach dropped, exhaustion making the disappointment heavier, more crushing. She couldn’t even muster anger—only bone-deep weariness that made her want to cry.
“Oh.” Her voice came out small, defeated. She cleared her throat, tried again. “I don’t understand … I made this reservation over nine months ago and reserved Sunset Villa. My assistant confirmed it again last week. Are you sure? Could you check again, please?”
Her voice trembled at the edges, and she hated how pathetic she sounded. Her hands twisted in her lap, fingers knotting together.
Lena’s face creased with distress as she clicked through her system. “I’m so sorry, but none of the villas are available. They’re all occupied.”
Kate’s breath shuddered out. The villa had been her lifeline; her hope for the solitude she needed to finish this book by the looming deadline. But looking at Lena’s apologetic face, she couldn’t bring herself to make this young woman’s night worse.
Before Kate figured out what to say, another woman moved up behind Lena, her presence changing the atmosphere like a cold front moving in. She wore a spectacular silvery-blue Versace suit, no name tag, and radiated displeasure from every pore. Diamonds glittered at her ears, and the temperature around the desk seemed to drop several degrees.
The woman’s gaze flicked over Kate dismissively before settling on Lena. “What is the issue here?” Her tone was sharp, cutting, and Lena’s shoulders visibly tensed.
“Ms. Evans, I was explaining to Ms. Danvers?—“
“That we have no villas available. Obviously.” Ms. Evans cut her off with a wave of one manicured hand. “Really, Lena, this should be a simple check-in. Perhaps if you spent less time chattering and more time working, you wouldn’t need to disturb me during my break.”
Lena’s face flushed, turquoise eyes going bright with the threat of tears, and something stirred in Kate’s chest despite her exhaustion. The casual cruelty of humiliating a young employee in front of a customer sparked a protective instinct even through the fog of fatigue.
“Actually,” Kate said, her voice steadier than she felt, “Lena has been nothing but professional and kind. The issue is with the reservation itself, not with her service.”
The woman’s icy gaze swung to Kate, one sculpted eyebrow arching. “I’m sure little Lena appreciates you defending her competence, but I am the Front Office Manager, and I believe I’m better qualified to assess my staff’s performance.”
Kate pulled out her tablet with trembling hands and opened her email, the smooth glass cool against her sweaty palms. “I have the confirmation here. Sunset Villa, guaranteed reservation. My assistant called last week to verify.”