Soca Nights: African-american Romance 1w10m

“Thanks for your concern. I’m fine.” Kevin smiled frigidly, pointedly moving his hand away from her seductive stroking. She hastily removed her hand, snuggled her head back against the older man’s broad shoulder and closed her eyes without saying another word. Yes, Ms Gold Digger, get back to your sugar daddy!

Lexy Harper was born in London. She’s known to most fans as an erotic writer, but she loves nothing better than immersing herself in a good romance novel. She was seduced into writing this story by the sunny skies, crystal clear waters and golden beaches of Barbados where she currently resides. her at: [email protected].

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By the same author: BEDTIME EROTICA BEDTIME EROTICA FOR FREAKS (LIKE ME) BEDTIME EROTICA FOR MEN

Lexy Harper

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Soca Nights

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All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher or author, except for brief quotes used in reviews. First published in Great Britain 2008 Copyright © 2006 Lexy Harper All Rights Reserved. www.lexyharper.com

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Published by Ebonique Publishing, London. Print Book: ISBN-13: 978-0-9556986-0-6

This book is dedicated to: My brothers and sisters who put up with my eccentricities and give me nothing but love and . My wonderful nieces and nephews. My one-of-a-kind father. And last, but not least, my mother—my greatest inspiration.

Contents

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen

Chapter One

Kevin Williamson reached for the lever to pull himself upright as the airhostess drew her trolley alongside his first-class seat on the British Airways flight from London to Barbados. “Hello again.” She smiled down at him, her full lips parting to reveal even, dentist-white teeth. “What would you like for lunch: chicken, beef, salmon or the vegetarian option?” “I’ll have the salmon, please.” He returned her smile, surprised at the effort it took. His facial muscles felt stiff from disuse, as though he hadn’t smiled in years, instead of just the last four days. She placed a generous portion of salmon, lightly steamed broccoli, a crisp green salad and a small wedge of lemon cheesecake carefully on the pull-out tray in front of him. “Would you like wine with your meal?” Still smiling, she indicated the array of drinks on the top of her trolley with a slim, elegant hand. “Or would you prefer another beer?” The latter question confirmed his suspicion that she’d been playfully flirting with him since serving him coffee just after takeoff from Heathrow Airport. “I’ll have a beer, please.” He shook his head in mock disapproval. She chuckled softly as she placed a bottle of beer on the tray—the same brand as he’d ordered before and winked at him as she moved on to the next aisle. She was beautiful. Her smooth, supple, sun-kissed caramel skin; long, wavy, jetblack hair pulled back into a neat chignon; small straight nose and full sensuously curved lips all hinted at her mixed Caribbean ancestry—a fusion of the blood of African slaves, indentured Indians and white plantation owners. She looked about twenty-one. Too young for Kevin even if he was looking for intrigue. He wasn’t. He turned his attention to the meal. He wasn’t hungry—hadn’t felt hungry in days, but the last thing he needed was to weaken his body’s already-shattered defences by starving it. He finished the meal, neither the flavour nor texture ing on his palette.

As soon as the tray and utensils were removed, he returned his seat to its reclining position and closed his eyes. Belatedly he wished that he had booked a ticket to Guyana instead. The air hostess’s lilting Trinidadian accent reminded him of his mother’s Guyanese intonation and filled him with longing and nostalgia. But, he reminded himself ruefully, he was thirty-two, not two. His mother couldn’t kiss his hurt better like she had done when he was a little boy. At the thought of hurt, an image of Dawn, his wife of seven years, surfaced behind his eyelids: her beautiful heart-shaped face framed by long dark brown hair; her shy long-lashed eyes; her sweet smile that could erase the tiredness from his body at the end of a long hard day; her petite, compact body with its narrow waist that he could almost span with his hands; her soft skin and her small firm breasts with prominent nipples she had always taken great care to conceal under clothing. He had never told her that he’d stole occasional glimpses of their entwined bodies in the mirror of their built-in wardrobe as they made love. She would have been mortified if she had known. Those glimpses had heightened his arousal. Their cocoa-brown skin tones were so closely matched it was impossible to tell where she ended and he began, except for his harder, muscular frame contrasting with her smoother, softer contours. The sight of her slim body pressed against his had been so unbearably erotic.... Abruptly his image was superimposed in his mind’s eye by one of rippling dark chocolate. Damn you, Anthony! He silently cursed his best friend for the thousandth time in days, filled once again with the all-consuming rage that was bubbling beneath the surface of his tight-lipped exterior. “Are you okay?” The softly whispered inquiry from the female enger across the gangway to his left brought Kevin back to the present. Curbing his annoyance, he opened his eyes, turned his head and looked into her worried dark gaze. Forcing himself to relax, he assured her, “I’m fine, thank you.” “It was probably just a patch of turbulence,” she comforted, reaching over to

stroke his hand which was clutching the armrest in a vicelike grip. Turbulence? He had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he had been unaware of anything else, his inner turmoil greater than whatever the plane had encountered. Her caressing hand was slim, long-fingered, soft and soothing. Kevin took an audible breath, slackened his grip on the armrests and released the last remnants of the fury that had engulfed him. The woman and her male companion had been among the last engers to board the flight. The tall, debonair, light-complexioned man was clearly twice the age of the stunning, dark-skinned diva. And diva she seemed to be. Soon after takeoff an air hostess had brought her two extra blankets, although she was wearing a woollen hat, thick jumper, baggy jeans and the pair of socks she had pulled on immediately after kicking off her red, high-heeled pumps. As the man had tucked the blankets around her, Kevin had noticed the thick gold band on his wedding finger. The only ring she wore was an intricately designed silver ring on her left thumb. The man had pulled out official-looking documents embossed with the Barbadian coat-of-arms from a briefcase and perused them for an hour or two before putting them away. He had then ensured that the blankets were still tightly wrapped around the young woman who, as soon as the man had tucked her in, had snuggled her head onto his shoulder, as if her head was too heavy for her poor neck to carry, and fallen asleep. Assured that his little darling was comfortable, the man had leaned back against the headrest of his seat, his head touching the top of hers and fallen asleep himself. Kevin had shaken his head in disapproval, praying that as he advanced in age that his brain wouldn’t become addled enough for him to date a woman decades his junior. For him, there was nothing more pathetic than an older man trying to retain or regain his youth by dating a woman young enough to be his daughter. It was obvious that the man had been on a business trip. He had probably been too afraid to leave his nubile mistress alone for more than a day. She looked like the type to play while he was away.

Now she had awoken and was caressing the back of Kevin’s hand, looking at him as if she wanted to induct him into the Mile-High Club while the old fool was sleeping. “Thanks for your concern. I’m fine.” Kevin smiled frigidly, pointedly moving his hand away from her seductive stroking. She hastily removed her hand, snuggled her head back against the older man’s broad shoulder and closed her eyes without saying another word. Yes, Ms Gold Digger, get back to your sugar daddy!

***

Well, excuse me for giving a damn! Kimberley Collins felt like slapping herself as she snuggled back against her father and closed her eyes in embarrassment. She had thought the man was having a heart attack the way he had been breathing rapidly, his broad chest moving up and down in agitation, beads of perspiration popping out on his forehead, his hands gripping the armrests like his very life depended on it! Okay, maybe it hadn’t been that bad, but the man had been visibly distraught. Alright, if she hadn’t been constantly peering at him from under her lashes she might not have noticed his distress, but surely he couldn’t blame her for feasting her eyes when he insisted on looking so damned gorgeous. She had innocently reached across to offer comfort. It wasn’t her fault that his skin was firm and smooth, and felt so damned good under her fingers that she had kept stroking it longer than necessary. Okay, she would it that she might have gotten a little bit carried away. But damn, the man’s skin was deliciously strokeable! Taut, stretched firmly over the underlying muscles and so hot it warmed her chilled palm. It was only as he had pulled his hand away that she had noticed the glaring line on his finger where he must have worn a wedding band until quite recently. In fact, the line was so glaring he had probably forgotten to put it back on after his shower that very morning!

He must think she was desperate! Kimberley’s groan of mortification was thankfully muffled by her father’s sturdy shoulder.

***

The diva turned at the door and gave Kevin a quick smiling glance before she alighted at Grantley Adams International Airport. He stared back at her, deliberately keeping his face imive. She and her sugar daddy were among the first engers to leave the plane. Kevin watched the man place a tender, ing hand at the back of her waist as she stepped off the plane. Kevin barely concealed a smirk—there was no fool like an old besotted fool. He stayed in his seat, ignoring the flurry around him as the other engers hurriedly grabbed their respective bits of hand luggage and duty-free bags and disembarked. He was in no hurry to start his first holiday without Dawn. The blazing Barbadian sun blinded him as he finally stepped off the plane and automatically he pulled his sunglasses from his top pocket and slipped them on. As he ed one of the rather long queues of non-residents waiting to be interviewed by the Barbadian Immigration Control, Kevin was strangely disappointed when he realized that the diva and her sugar daddy had already cleared immigration. He would have liked to have seen her without the jacket she had still been wearing as she stepped off the plane. Surely she would have taken it off before she got to the bottom of the stairs else she would have roasted in the heat. But then again she had been wrapped in layers of clothing like an Egyptian mummy on the plane when Kevin hadn’t even needed a blanket. Maybe she was cold-blooded. A cold-blooded gold digger. Kevin didn’t know why he was still thinking about her, why he felt the need to put her down. She was too tall, about five-foot-eight or slightly taller and he’d always been attracted to petite women. Yet, he had felt strangely attracted to her.

Smiling derisively, he itted that it was probably because he knew that he could meet her sexual needs far better than her old sugar daddy. Finally he got to the end of the queue and walked up to the desk to present his port and answer a few rudimentary questions. There was a general air of excitement in the baggage reclaim area as other tourists looked ahead to days of basking in the sunshine, taking in the sights, feasting on the local cuisine and getting drunk on Barbadian rum. Kevin felt far removed from the euphoria, breathing a sigh of relief as his distinctive silver Samsonite suitcase appeared among the first batch of luggage on the conveyor. Moving closer, he grabbed its handle and pulled it off as it came alongside him. None of the airport staff challenged him as he strode briskly through the ‘Nothing To Declare’ gate, perhaps because he looked the part of a successful businessman even in casual clothes, or because they sensed instinctively that he was not in a mood for interrogation. He headed out to the airport’s waiting area, pulling the suitcase behind him and for the first time in four days a genuine smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Standing a few metres away was a shorter-than-average man holding a large placard with Kevin’s name on it. Lifting a hand in acknowledgement, Kevin smiled again as the man rushed over to him eagerly. Relinquishing his suitcase at the man’s insistence, Kevin followed, adjusting his brisk, ground-eating stride to the driver’s shorter, more casual gait as he led the way to the car. Suddenly exhausted as he sank onto the back seat of the car, Kevin tipped his head back onto the headrest and closed his eyes as the driver accelerated and swung the car out of the busy airport and onto the main road. He dozed lightly until they reached the Sandy Lane Hotel. The splendour of the cream coralstone Palladian style building stunned Kevin. He hadn’t expected anything quite on this scale. The travel agent had said that the hotel was the most exclusive on the island and that Tiger Woods had rented the entire hotel for his honeymoon, but Kevin had barely paid attention to the man’s sales pitch, unconcerned where he ended up as long as it was away from the UK. Kevin seriously doubted that any celebrity, no matter how large the ego, would

need anything this grandiose just for a honeymoon. And worse still, if the golfer had intended the expense as a show of how much he loved his wife, recent revelations of his numerous extra-marital affairs now made a mockery of the gesture. Standing on the patio of his one-bedroom Dolphin Suite a few minutes after booking in, Kevin gazed out at the people frolicking on the pristine sands or swimming in the clear waters of the Caribbean Sea. They seemed to be having so much fun. Having fun—he couldn’t what that felt like. Grabbing a large beach towel, Kevin went down to them minutes later. He spent the rest of the day lying on the towel in the shade of a massive mahogany tree, pondering his life, the people and events that had changed it beyond recognition in less than twelve months. The rays of the sun warmed his skin but couldn’t thaw the ice that seemed to have settled around his heart.

***

Kimberley sighed as the warmth of lavender-scented bath water finally penetrated her chilled bones. How the homeless in the UK survived the winter sleeping on pavements was a mystery to her. Shuddering, she ed the brisk May winds she had encountered on her return to the hotel after an appointment at the University of Westminster where she was contemplating doing an MBA in September. The gale-force winds had almost whipped the large umbrella out of her grasp as soon as she had exited the tube station. She had doggedly held on to the handle and had nearly been lifted off her feet. In the end she’d had to seek shelter in a nearby shop, but by then she had been half drenched. After that she couldn’t get warm. Nothing helped, not turning up the heating or cups of hot chocolate, coffee or tea; nothing except snuggling under the quilt all day.

Her father had laughed at her each morning as she huddled like a quilt-wrapped mummy on the sofa, watching him have his usual breakfast of orange juice, hard-boiled egg, two slices of buttered, toasted wholemeal bread, followed by strong black coffee as he read The Times. She had sometimes switched on the TV after he left, but most times she had simply turned over and slept until midday. She hadn’t ventured out except on the two occasions when her father had dragged her along to official functions at the Barbados High Commission. The day before they had left London she had finally mustered the nerve to go to Harrods to collect the Rigby & Peller lingerie her mother, Adrianna, had preordered online from Barbados. Her mother insisted on wearing only underwear made by the lingerie makers of the Queen, though she was adamant that it was because the garments fitted well rather than the royal connection. Browsing through Harrods, the world-famous department store which occupied an entire block in Knightsbridge, had been an experience in itself for Kimberley. Its sheer size had staggered her. The prices had been almost as staggering. But the browsing had awakened her appetite for shopping. The coldness of the weather forgotten, she had hailed a ing taxi to the Marble Arch end of Oxford Street and worked her way on foot through Selfridges, Marks & Spencer, Debenhams, John Lewis and finally to Top Shop at Oxford Circus before heading for the more exclusive shops on Regent Street. Late that evening, foot-sore and laden with purchases, she had caught a taxi back to the hotel, pleased with the bargains she had picked up. Most fashionable Barbadian women wore US fashions; English clothing was considered less stylish and was therefore not as readily available on the island. Some of the outfits she had purchased might even raise a few eyebrows when she wore them, but there was little likelihood that she would turn up at an event dressed the same as another woman. Kimberley’s mother had clucked disapprovingly as her daughter had shown her the flimsy, non-ing wisps of satin, silk and lace underwear that she had bought for herself. And once again she had subjected Kimberley to a lecture on the importance of good ing undergarments. Her mother swore by the longline bras and girdles she had worn since she was a young woman herself, insisting that they had kept her almost-girlish figure in shape over the

years. She despaired that Kimberley refused to wear even a light-control panty girdle. For a woman approaching her fiftieth birthday, Adrianna was in fantastic shape and ‘foundation garments’ as she referred to them were in part responsible for her maintaining the twenty-five inch waist she’d had at the age of twenty-two, a year after she had given birth to her daughter. Kimberley’s waist was an inch larger, but she was built on more Amazonian lines than her petite parent. And whenever Kimberley was tempted to wear a corset to keep her slightly wayward butt under control, she always imagined being hit by a bus and then rushed to the hospital, surviving horrific injuries, only to die of the mortification of wearing a waist-high panty. She even imagined the headlines in the next day’s papers: Kimberley Collins Wears Big Drawers! Laughing, she used her toes to twist the faucet to top up the water in the bath, imagining Mr Drop-dead-gorgeous who had cast her one last evil look as she had stepped off the plane, trying to undress a woman who wore anything larger than a thong. He probably won’t know where to start and would most likely have to resort to ripping the sides or cutting the offending garment off with a pair of scissors. The temperature of the bath water suddenly increased by several degrees at the thought of his chiselled features.

***

After sitting and idly watching the sun set, Kevin leisurely got to his feet, shook out the beach towel and walked the short distance across the still-warm sands to the hotel. He undressed and stood under the powerful spray of the shower, letting it soothe away some of the tension in his shoulders. He hadn’t come to Barbados to find a solution to his problems; he’d come to get away from them completely. He needed a moment to catch his breath, space to reach inside and connect to the source of his inner strength. From that place of strength, he hoped to find solutions to the numerous challenges that had been thrown his way over the past year.

The sea breeze wafting through the patio door felt blessedly cool against his naked body as he dried himself with one of the hotel’s luxurious towels. Completely nude, he walked over to the huge bed and threw himself onto the neatly-made covers. An hour later, dressed in a polo shirt and casual slacks, he reluctantly went down to dinner. Many of the hotel’s guests were couples enjoying romantic getaways, but there were several family groups and also a large number of single men who had come to enjoy the excellent golf course for which the hotel was renown. Although he played golf occasionally, Kevin didn’t want to be roped into spending several hours a day on the green, so he avoided the group of men, quickly consumed his meal and headed back to his room.

Chapter Two

The next morning he woke just after midday, lulled into thinking that it was still night time by the room’s air-conditioning and the heavy drapes keeping out the blazing sunshine. He showered and ordered room service, painfully ing how last evening the sight of a couple with their young son, sitting between them talking animatedly, had made the food in his mouth turn to sawdust. It had reminded him too much of what he’d had, and lost. The pain had been so sharp, so intense, that for a moment he thought he would choke to death on the food lodged in his suddenly constricted windpipe. After lunch he sat on the patio, idly thumbing through the hotel’s brochure. The spa section offered a dizzying array of therapeutic massages. It had been a while since he’d last had a massage. A year ago almost to the date, when he had arrived home aching after a gruelling game of squash against Anthony. It had been the first time he had played since Kareem, his son, was born two years earlier. Kevin had been determined to win. He hadn’t, but the final score had been close despite the fact that Anthony had played more regularly. Later, Kevin had paid dearly for his competitive spirit, arriving home almost too stiff to get out of his car. Dawn had given him a full body massage, starting from his neck and stiff shoulders and slowly working her way to his feet as he lay facedown. When he had turned over she had covered his crotch with a towel while she worked on his front. He had taken great delight in shocking her, making a tent with the towel, his erection the central post, and loving the fact that after six years of marriage she had remained the shy, sweet woman he had married. The same shy, sweet woman who might be at this very minute lying wrapped in his best friend’s arms.

***

The Optimal Release Treatment was disconcerting. Kevin felt an almost overwhelming urge to cry during the massage, a tendency he had ruthlessly

curbed well before the end of his teens. It was a most alien sensation. He stumbled weakly back to his suite and threw himself across the bed and lay there for about twenty minutes feeling like he had taken a hallucinogenic drug, his mind a complete blank before he fell asleep. He woke the next day feeling totally rejuvenated. Surprised at the return of his appetite, he ate a hearty lunch sitting on the cool patio, iring the sun rays rippling across the surface of the sea. Once again the clear blue depths called out to him. Changing into a pair of swimming shorts, he grabbed a towel and went for a languid swim. Two young women, neither older than sixteen, giggled as they watched him emerge from the water and head towards the spot beneath the large mahogany tree where he had left his towel and Nike slip-ons. “You’re driving them girls wild!” Kevin grimaced inwardly as he recognized the man’s voice. Earlier in the day he had mistaken the man, Nigel, another guest at the hotel, for the driver who had chauffeured him from the airport. At a distance he had looked quite similar and Kevin had raised a hand in greeting—after all what were the odds of two grown men barely five foot tall being in the same vicinity? The man had immediately come over to introduce himself. He was a pleasant enough man, but Kevin was in no mood for new friendships. The man had left Barbados at the age of twenty-four to live with his parents in Brooklyn. He had struggled for years, he said, until three weeks ago when he had bought a lottery ticket on his way back from visiting his parents in Florida and he had won the seventeen million dollar jackpot. Suddenly family and friends he hadn’t seen in years had started turning up on his doorstep. He had booked himself a month’s holiday to escape them. As the man had outlined his plans for spending his winnings, Kevin finally understood how it had been possible for previous lottery winners to end up destitute. The man had confessed that prior to winning he’d had to dodge his landlord and several creditors, and had had to constantly borrow from his parents. When he had won the lottery he had given his parents a million dollars each, paid his landlord the rent arrears plus an additional year’s rent in advance although he had planned to move his things to his parents’ home two weeks later

and not return. He’d said that he never intended to work again and that he was enjoying this holiday so much he planned to travel to several similar locations all over the world, staying only in the finest accommodation. From the sound of it the man had never budgeted in his life. He had been in debt before winning the lottery because he’d mismanaged his wages, not because they had been inadequate. With the help of pen and paper borrowed from the bartender, Kevin had graphically demonstrated just how quickly the man’s money could run out and had advised the man to hire a financial advisor when he got back to the US. Nigel had promptly responded that he wasn’t going to pay anyone to rob him. Kevin itted that there were some unscrupulous charlatans in the business, but had explained that a reputable firm could secure the man’s future and had then illustrated how the man could not only never work again, but live in luxury for the rest of his life. “So, we partying tonight?” the vertically-challenged man asked as he ed Kevin uninvited under the tree. “Not tonight.” Kevin had hoped that the man had forgotten his reluctant agreement to be shown the best night spots. “Man, the clubs will be hot tonight. You’ve got to come out and have some fun,” Nigel cajoled. “Maybe next weekend.” Kevin controlled the urge to snarl by gritting his teeth. “Don’t stay in your room all by yourself, man!” Nigel poked Kevin on the shoulder encouragingly. “Come out and meet some Bajan girls and drink some Bajan rum.” “I don’t drink rum and I’m in no mood to meet women right now. Maybe later in the week, okay?” But Kevin’s objections fell on deaf ears. “Get dressed and we’ll leave about 11,” Nigel encouraged with a smile. The man was nothing if not persistent. “You will enjoy yourself. Trust me, man.” Did he really want to spend another night with nothing but his thoughts for company? Kevin asked himself silently. And, he reasoned, if the club wasn’t to

his liking he could take a cab back to the hotel at any time he wanted. “Okay, okay. I’ll come for a couple of hours,” he agreed. Nigel was already waiting when Kevin entered the lobby at five to eleven and led the way to a taxi he had hired. The driver roared out of the parking lot as soon as they had pulled their seatbelts in place. The streets were busier than Kevin had anticipated. They constantly overtook overcrowded, numbered mini-buses which stopped often to put off engers or cram a few more inside. Even the larger blue and white, and yellow buses were crowded with the astonishing number of people travelling at that time of night. “First we’ll by Oistins and eat some fish,,” Nigel explained. The driver took the next corner without slowing his speed. Nigel’s Barbadian accent became more noticeable when he shouted, “Tek it easy.” Kevin wasn’t hungry, he had eaten a late lunch. Turning to inform Nigel that he didn’t need anything to eat, Kevin was arrested by the sight of the other man enthusiastically bobbing his head in time to the music blaring out of the car’s stereo. Amused, Kevin stared at him, noticing for the first time the strands of grey in the other man’s close-cropped hair and the deep lines that bracketed his eyes and mouth. Stunned by the realization that the man was older than he was, Kevin abruptly faced forward and stared through the windscreen. Hadn’t he once been as carefree? When had he lost the ability to enjoy life? To tap his feet and bob his head to the beat of good music?

***

It was impossible for the driver to find a parking space when they arrived at Oistins. He finally resorted to double parking his vehicle next to a battered Peugeot. Thousands of Barbadians, children, parents and even in some cases

grandparents, mingled with tourists in the open-air venue, eating and drinking and dancing to the loud music blasting from a huge sound system. As they headed to one of the food stalls, Kevin was grateful that he had kept his mouth shut earlier as the aroma of the food tantalized his nostrils and his stomach growled in response. Ten minutes later, carrying a disposal plate of fried flying fish and a cool Banks beer each, they ed the large crowd gathered around a group of energetic, effeminate young men dancing to attract the attention of the tourists, who rewarded their enthusiasm with bottles of beer. One tourist, a burly man with glittering eyes, stood alone avidly watching their gyrations, literally salivating. No doubt one or more of them would be warming the man’s bed later, Kevin thought wryly. Nigel relieved Kevin of the empty plate as soon as he had finished eating the last tasty morsel of fish, signalling with a movement of his head in the direction of the parked car that it was time to depart. The driver had kept the meter running and Kevin noted the sum with silent disapproval. It would have made more sense for Nigel to have paid the driver at the end of the journey and hired another of the dozens of taxis sitting empty awaiting hire. In the short space of time they had spent at Oistins, the streets had become deserted. The drive to the club seemed never ending without the constant flow of people and vehicles to catch Kevin’s interest. Just when he began to wonder how much farther they had to go, the driver turned into a deserted-looking street. Kevin felt a brief moment of panic as he recalled horror stories of unsuspecting tourists being lured to their deaths on holidays abroad. Nigel made no effort to conceal his wealth. Earlier when he had asked the driver to keep the meter running, he had taken out an embarrassingly large wad of cash and paid the driver a hundred US dollars to show that he meant business. The driver could be taking them somewhere to rob them at gunpoint. Kevin was more relieved than he cared to it when the driver turned into the entrance of the After Dark Nightclub moments later. After being frisked by security and paying both of their entrance fees—not wanting to give Nigel a chance to flash his cash again—Kevin preceded the man

into the darkened club. The music was deafening and the dance floor heaving with writhing bodies. Kevin felt his spirits lift as he headed for a vacant stool at one end of the long bar and waited to be served by the female bartender covering that section. His eyes had accustomed themselves to the darkness of the nightclub by the time she placed a Banks beer in front of him and he let them wander. He saw her almost immediately, sitting at the bar, but facing away from it, dressed in a bronze halter dress which fitted her body like a second skin. It was the unusual shade of her dress which initially caught his eye, but the way she filled it made them linger. The colour was a perfect foil for her silky-looking dark skin. She was a feast for the eye, her posture erect and ladylike as she sat on the high stool with her long legs crossed, still looking very much the little diva. Several people stopped to chat with her as they came to the bar or went past, but she was definitely alone. Sugar Daddy’s probably too old to make it past the bouncers, Kevin thought unkindly as he watched her. She was directly in his line-of-vision, with the dance floor behind her. Engrossed in the aesthetic banquet, he was unaware that it was obvious where his eyes were trained, until Nigel came over and whispered, “Not that one, buddy!” “I beg your pardon?” “I saw you checking her out!” Nigel grinned, not taken in by Kevin’s sudden stiff British manner. “She looks like trouble to me. You better don’t mess with her.” “I was just looking,” Kevin itted, holding his hands up in defeat. Just as he was about to ask Nigel if he knew who the woman was, a petite woman ed them and Nigel hurried after her. Kevin chuckled softly, but understood the man’s haste. Even in heels the woman was not much taller than Nigel—he needed to grab her before some taller man did. Like iron filings to a magnet, Kevin’s eyes were involuntarily drawn back to the diva. In the hour and a half he had been there she hadn’t danced. He was just

wondering if sugar daddy had forbidden it when the DJ announced that it was ‘wuk up’ time and started playing the soca classic: DN5’s Winer Girls. There was no way Kevin could have anticipated what happened next. As the intro started playing she quickly downed the drink that she’d been delicately sipping, and was up and on the dance floor. He had noted her fabulous body while she’d been sitting: full breasts, small waist and ample behind, but he had forgotten how tall she was. And nothing in the way she had primly perched herself on the barstool had prepared him for the way she danced. It was like night and day! The words of the song were strangely appropriate—Kevin was certainly mesmerized as he watched her move, and although she was rotating her waist as if she had no bones in her body she still managed to look classy. The song ended and another began, and another. She danced each of the seven soca songs as energetically as she had done the first, her shoulder-length, straightened hair bouncing sexily around her head as she moved. Much too soon for Kevin’s liking, the DJ changed the style of music. She stopped dancing, walked back over to the bar and once again perched elegantly on the high stool with her legs crossed. Intrigued, Kevin walked over and sat on the conveniently unoccupied stool next to hers. Leaning in close enough to be heard over the music he whispered, “Hello again.” She turned her head, her eyes widening in surprise and darting to the seat he had previously occupied. So, she had seen him too. “Hi!” Her voice was as warm as the Caribbean sun. “Can I buy you a drink?” he offered. “I’ve got one, thank you.” She nodded her thanks as the bartender handed her a frosted glass as if on cue. “Okay, the next one’s on me.”

“That won’t be necessary.” She smiled as she said the words, but left him in no doubt that she meant them. “I can get my own drinks, thank you.” “All I want to do is buy you a drink.” “And all I’m saying is that I can afford to buy my own,” she responded, not attempting to mask her annoyance as she turned and looked him straight in the eye. Stirred by the fire in her gaze, Kevin was almost tempted to stoke the flames a bit more. Instead he quickly defused matters by extending his hand, “Kevin Williamson.” “Kimberley.” She didn’t supply her surname or add a meaningless platitude like ‘pleased to meet you’. She didn’t seem very pleased with him at the moment. Recalling the reason he had come over in the first place, he said, “That was some performance on the dance floor.” “Thanks.” “But why did you stop dancing when the DJ started playing Hip Hop?” “Soca is my thing. The best stress reliever in the world.” “I can’t imagine you being stressed.” Rather he could more easily imagine her spending lazy days at beauty salons pampering herself or shopping for sexy outfits to ignite her sugar daddy’s aging libido. The man had seemed wealthy enough to keep her in the style she had obviously become accustomed. “It’s very stressful when you shatter people’s dreams for a living.” She elaborated, with a smile, when she realized that he had no idea what she was talking about, “I work in the mortgage section of the bank.” So, his first impressions were wrong—she wasn’t just a pampered mistress. “So your trip to the UK was a business trip?” he inquired. “No, it was a personal.” Ah! Maybe not so wrong after all. Sugar Daddy’s trip had obviously been

business. Maybe she had come along as a fringe benefit. Kevin had clients who used very inventive methods to claim the cost of taking their mistresses away on business trips. Sugar daddy hadn’t seem the inventive type. But then he hadn’t seemed the type to have a young mistress either. “Do you always come here alone?” he asked, dismissing the unwanted thoughts of the older man. “My friend Brenda and I usually come here or go to The Boatyard, but she’s in St Lucia at the moment, enjoying the Jazz Festival.” “Didn’t your sugar daddy object to you coming out alone tonight?” Why he felt the need to remind the woman about her older lover he didn’t know, but the idea of her in bed with the man irritated Kevin for some inexplicable reason.

***

“My sugar daddy?” Kimberley threw her head back and laughed out loud. So, he had made the same mistake most people made on seeing her and her father together. They were often thrown by the difference in skin tone and her father’s noticeable affection. Once they got over their initial misconception they usually noted the resemblance. Mischievously she asked, “Which one?” “Which one?” he repeated, his eyebrows nearly shooting up into his hairline. She continued to look at him as though she had asked a perfectly logical question and expected a perfectly logical answer. With censure seeming to coat every word, he clarified, “The one on the plane with you!” “Oh, you mean Ernest,” she responded nonchalantly. “I left him at home in bed with his wife. I kissed them both before leaving.” “You kissed them...,” Kevin spluttered. “We all live in the same house,” she explained, somehow managing to keep a straight face. “It’s a convenient arrangement.”

He sat up straighter on his stool, subtly moving away from her. “I’m joking!” She laughed helplessly for a moment before itting, “he’s my father!” “Your father?” Kevin repeated, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. She could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. “If you had paid a little more attention you would have noticed that I look just like him.” Kevin couldn’t understand the relief he felt. What did it matter if she was the man’s mistress or his daughter? He was a married man! “So, Kevin, what brings you to Barbados?” she asked as he suddenly lapsed into silence. “I needed some time away from the UK to figure out a few things.” “Well, you’ve come to the perfect place for reflection. There’s nothing like lying on the beach in the sunshine to stimulate extra brain cells. I hope it works out for you.” She slipped off the high stool and extended a well-manicured hand. “Kevin, it was a pleasure meeting you.” “The night’s still young!” he protested, getting to his feet and enveloping her slim fingers in his. “I want to dance with you before you leave.” “Okay. One song and then I have to go.” “One song?” It would be like giving a man dying of thirst in the desert a sip of water—kind but tantalizingly cruel. “See you later, then!” She tugged her hand free and turned to leave. “Okay, okay. I’ll take the one song.” He accepted with obvious reluctance and led her to the dance floor as the DJ started playing Jaheim’s Anything. She put her arms loosely around his neck as they ed the other couples on the crowded dance floor; he slipped his around her trim waist and they moved to the slow beat of the music.

Her body felt good pressed up against his, her full breasts flattened by his chest, her hips snug against his and her long legs moving in perfect time with his. She made no attempt to leave at the end of the song. Encouraged he slid his right hand upwards, over the baby-soft skin of her back, and gently pressed her head against his shoulder. Her subtle perfume wafted upwards and instantly he felt himself harden. They danced pressed close together as the music blended seamlessly from one song to the next, until the sound of Beenie Man’s King of the Dancehall filled the air and Kimberley lifted her head. Reluctantly Kevin loosened his arms and gave her some breathing space. “I really have to go now.” Her dark eyes held a gleam of arousal and he felt a further tightening in his groin. “I’ll walk you out.” He held her hand as he shouldered his way out of the crowded club. Unbelievably there were people still arriving. Several white taxis were parked just outside the nightclub, their drivers catnapping while they awaited potential customers. Kimberley walked to a taxi parked near the gates and tapped on the window of the front enger side. The driver instantly opened his eyes, straightened and reached over to open the door. “This is my ride.” She turned to smile at Kevin as she made to slip into the car. “’I’d like to see you safely home.” “That’s not necessary. Marcus usually takes me home. I’ll be safe.” Kevin hadn’t anticipated the abrupt end to their night. He wanted to insist that he accompany her home, but sensed that she wouldn’t be talked around to the idea. He leaned a little closer and whispered, “I want to see you again.” The driver, still leaning across the enger’s seat holding the door open, made an impatient sound and Kimberley turned to get into the vehicle. “I’ll be here tomorrow night,” she promised.

“You aren’t just saying that to brush me off, are you?” “No,” she denied with a shake of her head. “I’ll be here.” “What time?” “Midnight or just after.” “Okay, see you then.” She smiled and he closed the car door. The driver immediately started the engine and drove off. Kevin lifted a hand in farewell, but Kimberley’s attention was distracted as she fumbled with the seatbelt. He took a mental note of the number of the licence plate as he watched the car race away. Suddenly tired, he turned and walked slowly back into the club.

***

Kimberley glanced covertly at Kevin’s reflection in the side-view mirror until he disappeared from sight when the taxi turned onto the main road. She had recognized him immediately when he had seated himself in the corner of the bar —the British man on the plane who had spoken so icily to her. That fact hadn’t stopped her from once again iring his height, the breadth of his shoulders and the determined set of his cleanly-shaven jaw in the moments before he saw her. She always avoided tourists, knowing that many came specifically looking for naïve locals for brief holiday romances. She had no intention of being yet another conquest. But Lord help her, the man oozed sex appeal from every pore! His deep voice thrilled her senses, caressing her ear as he bent close to be heard over the music. She felt hot as she ed the way her body responded to his on the dance floor. It had literally seemed to have a mind of its own as it had shamelessly moulded itself to the hard planes of his. And he had smelled divine,

his woodsy aftershave subtle yet distinct and masculine. She had breathed it in as if it were fresh air. She wouldn’t mind seeing him again. Mind? Stop fooling yourself, girlfriend, she onished herself. It would take a hurricane or some other natural disaster to stop her from going back to the club to meet him!

***

Seated at the bar once again, Kevin ordered a Banks beer and sipped it slowly. With Kimberley gone the club had lost its appeal. Leaving the half-finished beer on the counter, he went to find Nigel. He found the man and his petite partner in a corner locked in such a tight clinch he felt like a killjoy for interrupting as he tapped the man’s shoulder and bent over to tell him that he was leaving. Kevin needn’t have worried about interrupting, the man nodded and carried on without breaking his rhythm. Kevin smiled in amusement as he headed for the exit. Just then a taxi pulled in to the club’s parking lot with three scantily-dressed young women engers. Kevin waited until they had alighted, all laughter and sweet-smelling perfume, and hired the taxi himself. Though tired, he felt strangely exhilarated every time he thought of Kimberley. And yet he felt guilty. He’d never allowed himself to indulge an attraction for another woman since he had married Dawn. He had decided on his wedding day to stay faithful and even now, with possibly no reason to keep those vows, he felt disloyal. The next day, after a shower, he pulled on a T-shirt and shorts, grabbed a towel and his sunglasses and ed the diners at the hotel’s casual Bajan Blue Restaurant for lunch. The beachside restaurant was very popular. As he waited for Blacken Flying Fish with Sweet Potato Wedges, he watched the gentle flow and ebb of the tranquil sea. When a smiling waiter placed the meal in front of him, Kevin’s stomach growled as the aroma assailed his nostrils. He welcomed the full return of his appetite.

Sated from the meal, he headed for the beach. Too replete for a swim, he spread the towel in the shade of the same giant tree and slept. He woke up to an almost deserted beach, surprised but pleased that he’d slept for such a long time. Sleep, something he had done effortlessly all his life, had become very elusive in the last year. The deep restful sleep he had just enjoyed had to be the result of the massage he’d had the day before. It must be, and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that meeting Kimberley had been equally therapeutic. Picking up his sunglasses, he slung the towel over his shoulder and made his way back to his room. The freshly-made bed looked so inviting he crawled on top of the covers and drifted off to sleep again. When he reopened his eyes, the room was in total darkness and he lay for a moment enjoying the comforting silence. Then ing his date with Kimberley, he sat up hurriedly and checked the time. It was only three minutes past ten. He could set his alarm and snooze for another half an hour, or just lie in the darkness against the soft bank of pillows and think about Kimberley. He opted for the latter, ing the sexy dress which had hugged her curves the night before and the stupid relief he had felt when he found out that that Sugar Daddy was her father. Dancing was a pleasure he’d been denied for a while and having Kimberley in his arms, their bodies fitting perfectly together, had been an incredible experience. At quarter to eleven he got up, showered and dressed in a light blue shirt and black tros. Checking his image one last time in the mirror before leaving the room, he felt like a young man on his first date. The taxi he’d requested was waiting for him as he walked through the hotel’s doors at eleven thirty. He jumped into the front enger seat and gave the driver his destination. After being frisked more thoroughly than he thought necessary by one of the burly bouncers, he fought his way into the club. Incredibly, it was more crowded than the night before. Finally getting to the bar, he searched eagerly for Kimberley among the people occupying the high stools around it. He muttered a low expletive of disappointment when a comprehensive sweep of the bar confirmed that she wasn’t there.

But it was only just after midnight, he consoled himself. He didn’t let himself think of how gutted he would be if she didn’t turn up as he ordered a beer and took a convenient seat facing the entrance. “Hi, Kevin!” He spun around as the words were whispered into his ear from behind. “Hey!” Grinning like a schoolboy, he looked at her, his relief palpable. “When did you get here?” “I arrived a few minutes ago but had to go fix my hair. I had the window in the taxi rolled down and the breeze messed up my hairdo.” Her hair was pulled smoothly back from her face and held in place with a black band. She was wearing a simple black dress but it fit her in a way that raised the hairs on the back of Kevin’s neck. She slid onto the stool next to his and not a moment too soon; she wasn’t wearing a bra and while standing her unbound breasts had been too close to his lips for comfort. The female bartender placed a cocktail in a tall frosted glass in front of Kimberley before she had properly settled herself. “So, am I going to be granted more than one dance tonight?” Kevin asked as she took a sip of her drink. “We’ll see,” she responded cheekily, taking another delicate sip through the drinking straw. They sat and watched the other clubbers dance a session of reggae. Then the distinctive beat of a soca song filled the air. She raised an eyebrow enquiringly, but Kevin shook his head. She slid off the stool and moved backwards a few feet before she started dancing. Kevin had never been to a strip club. His best man Anthony had refused to take him anywhere too sleazy on his stag night after being threatened by Dawn and both of Kevin’s sisters that he would be held personally responsible if Kevin didn’t turn up in one piece for his wedding. Watching her the previous night had been arousing, but it was nothing compared to the way his body was reacting now as they locked gazes. Suddenly Kevin understood why men paid money to

have women dance for them. Kimberley was dancing as much for her own pleasure as she was for his, but it felt incredibly intimate, as though she was his private dancer. She danced without appearing to put any effort into her movements, her face alight with pleasure, a smile playing around her lips. All Kevin wanted to do was throw her over his shoulder and find the nearest available bed. The DJ announcing it was time to cool down brought Kevin back to awareness with a rude bump. Kimberley walked back to the bar and finished her drink with a few long pulls on the straw. As soon as she put the empty glass down, Kevin reached for her hand and led her to the dance floor. The dance floor was so crowded he couldn’t have held her loosely if he wanted to. He didn’t. Once again he marvelled at the way their bodies fit together as she put her arms around his neck and snuggled her face into his neck. The stiff points of her nipples pressed against his chest and he wondered distractedly if they were naturally erect or if her body was reacting to the close proximity of his. Not that the reason mattered, he thought with an inward groan, as blood surged to his groin. He held her even closer. He was barely aware of the end of one song and the beginning of another as they danced closely entwined on the darkened dance floor. The couples around them added to the sensual atmosphere and it took a moment for Kevin to notice when the DJ changed the music. Sliding his hand down the length of Kimberley’s arm, he entwined his fingers with hers as she turned and led the way back to the bar. “I have to leave soon,” she said, turning to look up at him as she took a seat on a high stool. “Do you have a curfew?” he asked, puzzled. Surely she was old enough to stay out as late as she wanted, even if she still lived with her parents? “No.” Kimberley laughed. “I went back to work the day after returning from the UK and found a thousand and one things waiting to be done. I’m still jetlagged.” Half an hour later as she waved goodbye to the bartender, Kevin held her hand and preceded her out of the club, desperately trying to think of a way of seeing her again.

Marcus was leaning against his taxi waiting. As soon as he saw them he got into the car and switched the ignition on. “When can I see you again?” Kevin stopped a few feet away from the car and turned her around to face him. “I’ll be here next Saturday.” “I can’t wait until next Saturday.” As he said the words Kevin realized how true they were. “When are you going back to the UK?” “I fly back Monday after next.” “I can give you a tour of the island tomorrow, if you’d like.” She hoped desperately that he would like. “That would be great!” he answered enthusiastically. “Where are you staying?” she asked just as Marcus rudely blew his horn. “Sandy Lane Hotel. Do you know where it is?” “Everyone on the island probably does.” She laughed and hurried to the vehicle, sat gracefully on the seat and swung her legs into the car. “I’ll pick you up at ten in the morning.” “I’ll be waiting,” Kevin promised. As soon as the car disappeared completely from sight he walked over to one of the waiting taxis. Slipping into the front enger seat, he gave the driver his destination. Filled with the pleasant anticipation of seeing Kimberley, he began to regret his decision not to speak to Dawn before leaving the UK. But he had been so filled with anger he’d known that he would have said something so unforgivable no later apology would have excused, so he had stayed away. Though he hated to it it, he had always loved the idea that he was the only man Dawn had ever slept with. He had also been sure that he was the only man she had ever kissed.

It was pure machismo he knew, but he had secretly revelled in the fact that she was his alone. The thought of her with Anthony, of him caressing her slim body, touching her ultra-sensitive breasts... Kevin felt blood rush to his head. Intellectually, he knew that rage wouldn’t solve the problem, but all he wanted to do was take his friend apart, limb by limb. He didn’t realize that they had stopped until the driver cleared his throat. Kevin paid the fare, indicating with a staying motion of his hand that he didn’t want any change and stepped out of the taxi. After a quick shower, he adjusted the air-conditioning and jumped into bed. As he was about to nod off he ed that he hadn’t set his alarm and reached for his pocket PC, a gift from Dawn. Dawn, his wife...and now his best friend’s lover?

Chapter Three

Kevin smiled as he watched Kimberley walk into the foyer of the hotel just after ten o’clock the next morning, wearing a sleeveless white linen dress and managing to look cool and unflustered despite the already fierce sunshine outside. Her hair was pulled into a thick ponytail and held in place with a white scarf. Even in simple flat white sandals, she looked elegant. A group of four male hotel guests on their way to the golf course, paused to follow her hipswaying stride as she made her way over to the reception. “How can I help you, Miss Collins?” The smiling young woman at the desk recognized Kimberley. “I’m here to—” Kevin tapped Kimberley on her shoulder and she swung around. Her warm smile quickened his heartbeat. He had convinced himself that the disco lights had enhanced her dark skin, making it look smoother than it really was, but in the daylight it positively radiated good health. “There you are.” She grabbed his hand, waved to the receptionist and headed for the door. The doorman held it open as they approached. “Good day, Miss Collins.” “Good day, Mr Matthews.” Kimberley smiled at the elderly man as she preceded Kevin through the hotel’s entrance. “Does everyone on the island know one another?” Kevin asked in surprise. “No!” She laughed, pulling a bunch of keys from her bag and deactivated the alarm of a blood-red Mercedes-Benz A200 Elegance SE. “My parents and I eat here all the time.” As he got into the vehicle Kevin smiled to himself. When the A-Class vehicles had first hit the market Dawn had fallen in love with them, saying that they were “cute in an ugly sort of way”. He’d said that there was nothing cute about the ugliest vehicle Mercedes had ever created and had persuaded her to keep her Roadster. It was ironic that the two women would have anything in common. They seemed so dissimilar in temperament: Dawn reserved, almost shy; Kimberley anything but!

She kicked off her sandals and slipped on a pair of worn espadrilles as soon as she jumped into the driver’s seat. Pulling her seatbelt on, she turned to Kevin and smiled. “I should have thrown these old shoes away years ago, but they are very comfortable for driving. Would you believe I ed my driving test wearing them?” “Oh, I believe,” he agreed readily and they both burst out laughing. At six-foot-four it wasn’t usual for Kevin to sit comfortably in most vehicles; he was pleasantly surprised by the generous leg room in the A-Class. “So, where are we heading?” he asked, fastening his seatbelt. “I’m taking you to my grandmother’s house in St Lucy. She has all kinds of fruit trees and her mangoes are so sweet you will want to eat the seed.” Kevin laughed. “I love mangoes. Whenever I go to Guyana I go specially to a village on the West Coast called Farm and eat as many as I can. I haven’t eaten a seed yet, though.” “Trust me, these mangoes are so sweet you will be scraping the seed to get every last bit of pulp.” Kevin chuckled and relaxed back against the seat and watched as she competently handled the vehicle. He hadn’t been driven by a woman in years. Dawn had ed her driving test at nineteen and though she’d had a car of her own even before they got married, she always assumed that he would drive if they were going anywhere together. He loved driving and had never minded. He sensed that Kimberley would insist on sharing the driving. A thoughtless driver pulled away from the kerb and into the road suddenly. Kimberley quickly moved over to the right lane to avoid hitting him and continued on the journey, seeming scarcely bothered by the near miss. Kevin glanced across at her in surprise. If he’d been at the wheel the driver would have had an earful or a rude gesture. “Road rage obviously hasn’t reached Barbados yet.” “Oh, you get used to these crazy drivers after a while,” Kimberley replied nonchalantly.

“Crazy? The man didn’t even look into his rear-view mirror before he pulled off!” “Over here we use rear-view mirrors to check that we look good, not for driving.” “What?” Kevin asked incredulously, his eyes instantly moving to check the positioning of hers. “Are you serious?” “Yes.” But Kevin could see that she was struggling to keep a straight face and a moment later she laughed out loud. “You had me worried there for a minute, you little liar.” “It’s fun to tease you, English boy.” She reached out to touch the hand with which he had unconsciously gripped the dashboard as if braced for impact and he was filled with a sense of déjà vu. She smiled as if she too ed the moment on the plane, and pulled her hand back without touching him. “Actually, I’m not English, I’m British,” he corrected. “There’s a difference?” “Huge difference! White people are English. Only Black wannabes call themselves English.” Kimberley decided that it was perhaps not the best time to mention that her first cousin, Cheryl, who had come from the UK to spend the summer holidays with Kimberley and her parents when she was younger, had always called herself ‘English’. They lapsed into a comfortable silence as they came to a busy intersection. The smell of food wafted across Kevin’s nostrils as they ed a vendor along the highway, making him regret the breakfast he had forgone for an extra half an hour of sleep. Forty minutes into the journey Kimberley thankfully pulled the vehicle over to the side of the road, parked and looked over at him inquiringly. “Have you had breakfast?”

“Not yet,” he answered coolly, praying that his stomach didn’t rumble at the mention of food and embarrass him. “Prepare yourself for a treat. My friend Lucille’s fishcakes are finger-licking good.” “Great. I’m starving,” he itted, thinking that he’d better warn her before he started wolfing down the fishcakes as if he’d never eaten in his life. “Why didn’t you say something before?” she demanded, poking him playfully in the ribs with a finger. “Come on.” The pregnant young woman behind the glass-fronted display cabinet smiled widely as they approached. “Hey Kim! How are you, girlfriend?” “I’m good.” Kimberley kissed the other woman’s cheek and rubbed her swollen belly. “Still pregnant, I see.” “You know that’s how Carlton likes to keep me—barefoot and pregnant.” “And still crazy.” Kimberley smiled as she pulled Kevin forward to introduce him, “This is Kevin. He is visiting from London. Kevin, Lucille is an old classmate of mine.” “Nice to meet you, Lucille.” Kevin smiled down at the woman. She was barefoot as she had claimed earlier, but there was a pair of leather sandals placed next to the thick mat on which she was standing. Her hands were covered with plastic food gloves, so he kissed her cheek as Kimberley had done. “You too, Kevin.” Lucille winked across at Kimberley, quickly and discreetly mouthed the word “hot”. “Now what can I get you two?” “Give me four...no, five fishcakes to start with. A glass of mauby and...a Coke?” She looked enquiringly at Kevin. “I’ll have mauby, too.” “Are you sure? It’s bitter...am, kind of an acquired taste,” Kimberley warned and she and Lucille exchanged knowing smiles.

“I’ve had mauby before. My parents are Guyanese, but my grandparents were all Bajan.” “Well, excuse me! Lucille, the man’s practically Bajan! Two glasses of mauby, please!” They sat on one of the small benches next to the stall and Kevin quickly devoured three of the fishcakes, which were as delicious as Kimberley had promised, and had another hot from the frying pan. The mauby was cool, slightly more bitter than he had ed, but very good. He was tempted to have another glass, but resisted since he was unsure of the length of the journey and if there would be facilities available along the way. They stayed a while after they’d finished eating, enjoying the heat of the sun and the occasional cooling breeze. Lucille had a steady stream of customers, yet she managed to effortlessly keep up a conversation with Kimberley as she filled orders. “I have to get moving.” Kimberley got to her feet with obvious reluctance and stretched lazily. “I’m taking Kevin to St Lucy.” “To meet your grandmother?” Lucille’s eyes widened suggestively. “You’d better wait until I drop this bundle before asking me to be your maid-of-honour!” “Lucille, I’m taking him for some of granny’s mangoes, not to introduce him to his future grandmother-in-law!” Kimberley rolled her eyes and shook her head at her friend. Kevin could see that she was a little embarrassed. “Anyway, you’re a married woman, you would be my matron-of-honour!” “Whatever! Just don’t make me waddle up the aisle!” “I promise that I won’t get married before you have this baby, but you get pregnant every time Carlton looks at you. I will be old and grey if I waited until you were not having a baby to get married.” Kimberley laughed and rubbed her friend’s bump again before giving her a quick hug. “See you next Sunday.” Kevin laced his fingers through Kimberley’s as they made their way back to her car. “Lucille seems nice,” he commented as they drove off.

“She’s crazy. She was my best friend in high school and got me into all kinds of trouble.” “It must be tough for her having to stand there all day.” “Carlton is usually there with her. He probably just went home to get something or to check on the kids.” “Oh.” Kevin was relieved. The woman seemed too heavily-pregnant to have to stand all day in the scorching sun, especially by herself. She ought to be at home with her feet up, relaxing. “Should she still be working?” “Lucille? She’ll probably work until she goes into labour.” “I guess she needs the money,” Kevin remarked almost to himself. He had only just met the woman, but he felt inclined to give her enough money to make ends meet until she had the baby. “Needs the money? You’d be surprised how much money she makes!” “Really?” Business had been quite brisk, but Kevin wouldn’t have imagined that takings at the end of the day would be exceptional. “We were lucky to catch her before she got really busy. Her mother started the business about twenty years ago and Lucille took over when she had a stroke three years ago. Her mother is better now, but she looks after the children while Lucille and Carlton run the business.” Kimberley paused as they came to a set of traffic lights. As the lights turned green she continued, “About two years ago they wanted to open a restaurant. I helped them draw up a business plan and I was furious when the bank refused them the loan. “But they had the last laugh. They bought a van and weekdays they go to various offices and building sites to sell food and sell a lot more than they would have done stuck in one location. And they don’t have to worry about loan repayments. Lucille just ed her driving test and after she’s had the baby they’re going to buy another van and supply food to a wider area.” “So being refused a loan worked in their favour?” Kevin loved the irony of it. “Yes! But they had an alternative, they had enough money saved to buy the

van. Many honest people come to the bank for a little help to start a business or build a roof over their families’ heads and get turned down. Yet, foreigners come and pitch their business plans to the top dogs at the bank and get approval straight away. Okay, some of them have generated income for the island, but several have defrauded the banks and skipped the country with hundreds of thousands, and in a few cases, millions of Bajan dollars. Personally, I think anyone who comes to the island with a business plan should also come with financial backing.” Realizing that she had come across a bit heavy, Kimberley relaxed. “One of the reasons I stay with the bank is to ensure that our poorer customers are treated fairly.” “You should start your own little bank,” Kevin teased. It was hard to reconcile the socially-conscious woman beside him with the pampered diva she had appeared on the flight. “I would if I could!” She laughed and the atmosphere instantly lightened. “My father accuses me of being a Socialist. Perhaps I am at heart. Years ago we tried to form a co-operative, but it didn’t work out.” “We?” “A group of friends from university. We were young and idealistic. We spent one month in Cuba after we graduated and came back full of good intentions.” Her voice was nostalgic, as if she missed the zeal of her younger self. “We tried to start a housing project—twelve people who would help one another build their own homes. We had three carpenters, two masons, a painter, an electrician, four labourers and a steel bender...I think. It was too ambitious a start, I guess, but it could have worked if the people were enthusiastic enough. The houses would have been built to the same specification so that no one could complain that one house was better than another. We even decided that at the end we would put the lot numbers in a hat and let each of them draw their own house number. Everything was going well until we asked each of them to contribute a hundred dollars towards the architect’s and quantity surveyor’s fees. At the next meeting only two of them turned up.” The success of the project had depended on the group having the necessary skills among themselves to build the houses. It had been impossible to proceed. “They must have thought that we were trying to con them. At the time it upset

me. All I could think of was that we had tried to help them and they had been too lazy to help themselves. But as I got older I understood how naïve we’d been in thinking that people would trust us with their hard-earned money.” “It was a brilliant idea, though.” Kevin was impressed. All he had thought of after graduating was making serious money. “Thank you, but we didn’t come up with the concept ourselves. It had been done successfully before.” “So was that the end of your humanitarian efforts?” “I’m afraid so. I started working at the bank a few weeks later. Most of the others either started working too or went back to university to do their Masters or PhDs.” They drove in companionable silence for a few minutes. Kevin ired the greenery as it flashed by, surprised that so much of the island was still uninhabited. He had assumed with a large population and the relative smallness of the island that there would be no forests. “I was contemplating coming to London to do an MBA in September, but the cold weather has made me change my mind,” Kimberley informed him, stopping smoothly as the approaching traffic lights went from amber to red. “England isn’t that cold!” he protested. “It probably isn’t cold for you. I almost froze my butt off!” Kimberley responded, shivering at the memory. “That would have been a real shame.” Kimberley turned to glare at him as she realized that he had taken her statement literally. “I meant that figuratively!” “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” Kevin apologized and quickly changed the subject before his body started reacting to the image of her delectably-shaped behind frozen in the biting cold. “September is the perfect time to come to the UK. It will still be warm, so the change of climate wouldn’t be a shock to your system. By winter you would have acclimatized to the cold.”

“My mother used to take me to New York every Easter when I was younger and —” “The weather in London is not as extreme as in New York,” he interrupted hastily, trying to get her mind off thoughts of the cold. “We don’t enjoy their brilliant summers, but on the other hand we don’t have to suffer their cold winters.” “London might not be as cold as New York, but it is definitely colder than Barbados, and that’s the problem!” “They say enduring the winter builds character. Experiencing life in another country will broaden your horizons and may even give you a greater appreciation for Barbados.” “I appreciate Barbados enough, thank you. But perhaps... That’s my grandmother’s house.” Kimberley pointed to a modest building surrounded by a vast expanse of land. She turned onto a bridge that was just wider than the vehicle and drove along the bumpy driveway. “Granny! Granny!” she called as they alighted. Kevin smiled at the pleasure in her voice. She sounded like a little girl. “Is that you, Kim?” A tall, light-skinned woman came from behind the building, wearing denim overalls and long boots. Kimberley rushed forward and hugged her tightly. As she loosened her arms and stood looking fondly at the older woman, Kevin noted that Kimberley must have inherited her impressive physical attributes from this matriarch. “Granny, this is Kevin.” Kimberley wrapped her arm around her grandmother’s shoulder and brought her forward to make the introduction. “He is visiting from London and I couldn’t let him go back without tasting your mangoes.” Her grandmother brushed her dusty hand against her clothes before offering it to Kevin. He took it in his and almost winched when she grasped his hand more firmly than he’d expected. “I hope mangoes are the only things you intend to taste before you go back, young man.”

“Granny!” Kimberley was mortified. She had forgotten that her grandmother always said exactly what she was thinking. She hastily turned her grandmother around and led the way to the orchard behind the house. “Let’s see what fruits are ready for picking.” There was an abundance of trees in the orchard but only a few of them had ripe fruit. “I’m afraid you got here a little too early,,” her grandmother apologized. “In a month’s time you would have had a variety. Right now all that I can offer you is some mangoes, guavas and papaws.” “That would be plenty, thank you, Mrs Collins.” “Oh, please, call me Bertha, child!” Kimberley’s grandmother smiled revealing a slight gap between her two upper front teeth as she picked up a long stick and started knocking down only the ripened mangoes from one of the huge trees. She caught them expertly, brushing aside Kevin’s offer to help. The other fruits could be picked by simply reaching up and within fifteen minutes they had a small basket of assorted fruits. Kissing her grandmother’s cheek fondly in farewell, Kimberley promised that she would visit again as soon as she could before they jumped back into the vehicle and headed back the way they had come. “Is she your maternal or paternal grandmother?” Kevin asked as the older woman stood waving them goodbye. “My father’s mother,” Kimberley responded and then chuckled. “People generally fawn over my dad. It’s amusing to hear my grandmother tell him off like he’s a little boy.” “We are always children in our parents’ eyes.” Kevin smiled. “I went to Guyana for my father’s seventieth birthday party last year and my mother wanted to know what time I would be back every time I left the house!” Seventieth? Her father was only fifty! Was Kevin a late child, or was he a lot older than she’d thought? She must find a way of slipping the question of his age into a future conversation. “My father still thinks I’m five!” She rolled her eyes at the thought.

“He must do—the way he was tucking you in on the plane,” Kevin reminded her. “He wasn’t tucking me in!” she denied, feeling her cheeks go warm. She hadn’t realized that he had noticed her before they had spoken on the plane. “Tucking you in...testing your temperature to see if you were too cold or too warm. Five? I would say that he thinks you are still a baby.” “I was freezing,” she informed him, defensively, “after two weeks of your nasty British weather.” “Daddy’s darling,” he teased. “Are you an only child?” “Yes. My dad wanted at least six children, but after being with my mother through sixteen hours of labour, he decided that he couldn’t put her through that again. I was a big baby.” “Was?” “I’ll punch you in a minute,” she warned. “Is it tough being an only child?” He laughed, changing the subject. “Sometimes. My father’s disappointed that I’m not more interested in politics. And my mother wanted me to be a lady.” “And you’re not a lady?” “My mother reads historical romance novels. Her definition of the word is based on the English aristocracy.” “The aristocracy are as badly behaved as everyone else. Divorces, affairs—just look at our Royal Family!” “I know! But my mother refuses to believe most of what she reads in the newspapers and I’ve given up trying to convince her. She tried to turn me into the perfect young lady when I was younger. Ballet, which I hated although I love to dance, and elocution and etiquette classes until I was sixteen!” “Elocution and etiquette?” Kevin spluttered.

“Don’t laugh! I was a real tomboy before that. Our next-door neighbours had three sons. I used to play cricket and football with them and fight with them if they messed with me. My cousin, Cheryl, came from England to spend a summer with us when I was six and my mother fell in love with her perfect speech and ladylike manners. So, she paid for private lessons from a retired English teacher, who had moved to the island with her Barbadian husband.” Kimberley’s mother ed several charities and was considered one of the best-dressed women of her generation in Barbados and her father had been a shrewd business man, even before he had become a politician. Kimberley had had a pampered, but restricted childhood. She had missed the simple pleasures of kicking stones and empty cans on the way to and from school in the blazing sun or taking off her shoes and wading barefoot through puddles after heavy rainfall. Even fighting a classmate on a street corner after school had seemed fun as she’d ed in her chauffeur-driven. Kimberley had wished to swap places with the children gazing with envy at her face pressed against the window of the car; they would have probably given anything to be in her shoes. “So, Kimberley, any plans to settle down and have kids?” Kevin’s question brought her back to the present as she slowed at a pedestrian crossing to allow a woman and her two young daughters to cross the street. “When I meet the right man.” “Let me guess. He has to be tall, dark, handsome and rich?” “He can be all of those things or none as long as he has no ulterior motives and loves me for myself.” “You poor little rich girl!” Kevin commiserated in mock sympathy and laughed as she gave him a dirty look. “Don’t get me wrong, being my father’s daughter has its benefits. I appreciate it more now that I’m older, but... This is where I did my Management Studies degree.” She pointed to the impressive Cave Hill campus of the University of the West Indies before resuming the thread of her previous conversation, “...sometimes I wish that I could go some place where no one knows me.” “That’s why you should consider coming to the UK. No one knows you there. If you fell over people would simply step around or over you and carry on

walking.” “It sounds like the perfect place for me,” Kimberley laughed, knowing that he was joking. “Provided they stepped around and not on me.” “Anonymity is nice, but I think you would miss seeing familiar faces.” “Perhaps. Oh, there’s my friend Brenda’s dance studio.” Kimberley pointed to a two-storey building with a sign that read: Brenda Jackman’s School of Contemporary Dance. “She’s the happiest person I know. She makes a decent living and her life is entirely her own. That’s what I want—to be self-employed, doing a job that makes me jump out of bed eagerly each morning. I don’t know...I want to feel fulfilled, I guess.” “Self-employment is tough. I’ve had my own business since leaving university and trust me, I had many sleepless nights for the first year or two. But I’m glad that I stuck with it and having been my own boss for so long I couldn’t work for anyone else.” Kevin turned and smiled at her. “Doing an MBA would be useful if you want to start your own business.” “Did you do an MBA?” she countered. “No, but I would have if my business hadn’t done so well. Unlike a degree, an MBA is tailored to meet individual needs. It will pinpoint your strengths and weaknesses, and ultimately make you a better manager.” “I have done some research and I particularly like the Westminster MBA...but, I don’t like the cold!” “I’ll keep you warm,” he offered, with a teasing glint in his eyes. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she retorted. And they both burst into laughter.

***

The Mount Gay Rum Tour was one of the highlights of a whirlwind day of sightseeing. Kevin argued that the Guyanese X-M Gold 10 Year Old Rum could give any Barbadian rum a run for its money. Kimberley itted that she had never tasted it, but insisted that it couldn’t be that good or she would have heard of it. He promised to have a bottle sent to her from Guyana. The informal Malibu-in-the-Making Tour was fun. Kevin imbibed freely, but Kimberley, conscious of the fact that she was driving and had to work the next day, simply enjoyed watching him enjoy himself. It was then too late to squeeze the Royal Barbados Cigar tour into the day, so Kimberley made her way to a popular karaoke bar. They sat and listened to several acts as they sipped chilled drinks. Some the acts appeared to be regulars at the bar. The best act was a teenager who sang Whitney Houston’s He’s All the Man and then Mariah Carey’s Vision of Love when the crowd demanded an encore. Then a middle-aged man gave a horrendous rendition of Bridge Over Troubled Water and Kimberley couldn’t decide which was worse—the fact that the man couldn’t sing or the fact that he was convinced he could. The crowd didn’t help matters by cheering enthusiastically, in relief no doubt that the assault on their eardrums was over. “Let’s do a duet?” Kevin suggested. “Endless Love or On my Own.” “I don’t sing,” she informed him, shaking her head in emphasis. “Come on, it’s just a bit of harmless fun.” “If you want to go up there and embarrass yourself, be my guest.” “Why did you come to a karaoke bar if you’re not going to sing?” “Because I wanted to hear other people sing.” “OK. I’ll have to sing a song for you, then.” Kevin made his way to the corner of the bar where the karaoke equipment had been set up, smiling secretly. While at college he had been the lead singer of a boy band, 4Front, which had had moderate success before it disbanded. Kimberley’s mouth opened in surprise as Kevin sang the opening line of Teddy Pendergrass’s Turn Off the Lights. He sounded almost as good as the original!

A group of women cheered as he pulled a nearby high stool closer and sat down on it before he continued. He finished to enthusiastic applause and cries for an encore. With a show of reluctance, though Kimberley could see that he was enjoying himself, he did Close The Door another of Teddy’s songs. She was still in shock when he finally walked back over to their table. “Thank God I didn’t go up there with you. I would have died of embarrassment!” “I’m sure you’re just being modest.” “Unlike you, Mr Pendergrass. I expected women to start throwing thongs or even themselves at you any minute!” He sat down, looking smug as he picked up his quarter-filled bottle of beer and emptied it. Kimberley rolled her eyes and glanced at her watch to check the time. She caught the woman at the next table eyeing Kevin as she looked up. Glancing around she caught several women looking hastily away, but not fast enough. Amused she got to her feet and grabbed Kevin’s arm. “Let’s get out of here before women, and maybe a few of the men, start asking for your autograph, Teddy.” She had booked a table at her favourite restaurant, Sasso, in St James. They arrived a few minutes early, but were immediately shown to a secluded table for two. Kevin was exasperated when she insisted on paying for the meal. “What is your favourite song? Independent Women?” “It’s my theme song! How did you guess?” she teased as she handed over her debit card. “This was my treat. You can treat me the next time.” As she dropped him off at the hotel she wondered if he would try to kiss her and more importantly, would she let him? He brushed a kiss across her cheek before alighting from the vehicle. “Good night, Kimberley. Thanks for a day to .”

“’Night, Kevin. Sleep tight!” She smiled as she drove off, sensing that he had debated whether to kiss her on the lips or the cheek.

Chapter Four

Kimberley drove home, humming Close The Door in a husky contralto. Kevin’s voice had covered her like a warm blanket, the words of both songs taking on new meaning as he had sung them looking straight at her. She was still surprised how she had reacted to him on the dance floor. They had moved in perfect unison and that, she had always heard, was a positive sign of sexual compatibility. She and her first boyfriend had moved well on the dance floor, and in the bedroom...perfection! She had thought that she had found the love of her life—until she found out that he sold his body for cash. And Kevin was so tall! She had a weakness for tall men, but never attracted them because they seem to have a weakness for petite women. Perversely, short men seem to be attracted to her, all five feet nine inches of her. She constantly met good-looking, intelligent men, who had to look up to her even when she was wearing flat shoes. She knew it was foolish prejudice. She was excluding thousands of good men, but she couldn’t bring herself to date a shorter man. Towering over her partner was an embarrassment she simply couldn’t endure. She had always worn flat or low-heeled shoes so as not to appear taller than her previous boyfriends, all of whom had only been an inch or two taller. Even in four-inch heels she’d had to raise her arms slightly to put them around Kevin’s broad shoulders. She’d loved the way her head had fit comfortably on those shoulders, the strength in his arms as they had enfolded her as they danced and the ridiculous feeling of femininity that flowed through her. She had felt safe and protected in his close embrace. Ridiculous, she knew, but wonderful! She had deliberately not made any plans to see him again before the weekend. Then, there would only be a few days remaining before he returned to the UK. She didn’t believe in holiday romances and had no intention of starting one with him. Although to be fair he hadn’t indicated that he was looking for one. Well, except for his comment about keeping her warm in the UK. It would be far too easy to do something stupid like fall in love with him. She needed a few days to recover her equilibrium. But as she closed her eyes, turned her head and snuggled into her pillow she ed the merest hint of a dimple that appeared in his clean-shaven right cheek every time he smiled, and how as he had leaned towards her in the car earlier, she had hoped for an insane moment that he was reaching for her lips,

instead of her cheek.

***

The next morning as she was explaining the formula for calculating a complex mortgage repayment to one of her newer of staff she heard a gasp of astonishment from one of her female colleagues. She looked up from where she was standing at the young man’s desk and saw the largest bouquet she’d ever seen headed towards her on long, denim-clad legs. As they approached the flowers moved aside to reveal a grinning Kevin. Her mouth fell open as her colleagues and a few customers looked on filled with curiosity. She quickly grabbed his free hand, pulled him into her office and closed the door. She wished that she could pull the drapes but that would cause further speculation. “Are you insane?” she hissed at him, even as laughter bubbled on her lips. “I can’t buy you a drink, can’t buy you dinner so it had to be flowers.” “I’m never going to live this down!” “You could tell them that it’s your birthday and that I’m the delivery man.” “They won’t buy that story, especially since the news has already gone around the building that I was seen around the island with a foreigner!” “If you let me buy you dinner tonight there will be no embarrassing bouquet of flowers tomorrow.” “That’s blackmail!” she protested, more pleased to see him than she cared to it, even to herself. “It’s desperation,” Kevin itted. He looked at her sexy mouth, bare except for light lip gloss and had to quell the urge to kiss her. In her work uniform she was the epitome of professionalism, but it didn’t disguise her womanly curves.

“What time can I expect you?” “I have to go home and change first, but I should be there by six o’clock. Now go, before I get fired!” “I can’t wait to see you.” Kevin said the words surprised how much he meant them. He hadn’t thought of anything but Kimberley since he had awoken at ten. He had spent about fifteen minutes racking his brain for a suitable way to repay her for her generosity the previous day. At first he had dismissed the obvious idea of flowers, but the thought had grown on him. He opened her office door and walked back through the mortgage section, the eyes of her colleague trained on him. Then someone started clapping and instantly they all ed in. He turned and gave an elaborate bow before walking through the door. Kimberley watched the little performance through her glass-fronted office and smiled as she inhaled the scent of a white rose from the assorted bouquet. Crazy British man! It took all of four minutes for Penny Aubrey, her closest friend at the bank, to rush into her office. “Now Ms Collins, what kind of services have you been providing to warrant a bouquet as big as this?” Penny pointed to the bouquet with a perfectly manicured finger before gracefully settling her petite frame into the chair in front of Kimberley’s desk. Crossing her slim legs, she looked as though she had all the time in the world to gossip. “I’m on my tea-break. I took it early, so don’t spare the details. I need a blow-by-blow .” Kimberley had started working at the bank less than a month after Penny five years ago. Their careers had taken similar paths and now they were both supervisors of their respective sections. If Penny were a man, she would have been branch manager now. She had a brilliant if somewhat filthy mind. “All I did was give the man a tour of the island!” Kimberley knew that her protests of innocence would fall on deaf ears. Penny would much prefer to let her vivid imagination run riot than believe Kimberley’s tame story.

“Did it include a tour of you?” Penny’s neatly arched eyebrows moved up and down suggestively and Kimberley laughed in exasperation. “Take your one-track mind back to your own office. I have to get back to Simon.” “Is he still having trouble with those calculations? Girl, you are too soft, I would have fired him a long time ago.” Penny was notorious for weeding out lazy or incompetent employees. She always said that anyone who couldn’t grasp mathematical concepts shouldn’t be working in a bank. “Give him time! Not everyone has a computer for a brain like you.” Kimberley defended her member of staff although she had given serious thought to suggesting an alternative placement for the young man. She still had to check all of his work for fear that he would hopelessly under- or overestimate a client’s mortgage repayment . He had worked on the counter for the first six months of his employment and had been a brilliant cashier, but he seemed to be struggling to get to grips with the various mortgage options available to their clients. Kimberley wanted to give him at least a three-month trial before she made her decision, but she doubted that the three remaining weeks would make a difference. “All I’m saying is that if he messes up a calculation and the client signs it—it’s legal and binding.” “I check all of his work and he’s improving.” “You are far too nice for your own good, girlfriend. And that is why I don’t believe that you gave that good-looking man just a tour of the island. Knowing you—you bent over backwards to show him a good time!” Penny laughed at her own double entendre. Kimberley came around her desk and playfully took the woman’s arm to march her out of her office. “I’m amazed that you still manage to get any work done while you think of sex every other second.” “It’s a natural talent.” Penny didn’t bother to deny that she had sex constantly on her brain.

Despite her petite size Penny could hold her own with the biggest of the guys when it came to drinking or cracking dirty jokes. She had fended off the unwanted advances of a senior member of staff and it had hurt her promotion prospects. If he could have, the senior manager in question would have fired her a long time ago, but her work was exemplary and she ran her department like a well-oiled machine. “I have a business lunch with a client, but I’ll meet you in the canteen tomorrow. I expect to hear the true events, not the Mills and Boon Romance version you just gave me.” Penny spun on her heels to make her way back to her office. “How can you walk in those shoes?” Kimberley asked, baffled. The woman’s five-inch stilettos looked positively lethal. “I was born in heels, darling,” her friend purred, adding an extra bounce to her steps as she walked away to further demonstrate her mastery of the heel-wearing art. “I believe you were,” Kimberley called after her as she made her way back over to Simon’s desk. At the close of business she didn’t linger as usual. Grabbing her handbag and laptop, she headed for the door just after the last member of her staff left. But Penny couldn’t let her get out of the building without a few words of warning, “Careful how far you bend backwards to please that man, honey. You could hurt yourself!” Kimberley laughed and deliberately closed the door as Penny suggested the name of a good chiropractor if she needed one. Penny was seriously good company and made life at the bank more fun than it ought to be. At every Christmas party she did something unexpected which missed being sleazy by a whisker that everyone would and talk about for months afterwards. Kimberley’s early departure was quite unusual. She normally stayed behind an additional hour to check the day’s work and plan ahead for the next day. Staying behind was at her discretion since supervisors didn’t get paid overtime, but with seven of staff constantly demanding her attention she didn’t always get a long enough free time span in her working day for planning. Today she’d

managed to get the bulk of the day’s checking done during the afternoon and would come in a bit earlier in the morning to do the rest. Before she went to bed tonight she would spend some time arranging tomorrow’s schedule. Stuck in a traffic jam fifteen minutes later Kimberley regretted the impulse to leave the office early. She had lost most of the extra hour she’d allowed. The number of cars had increased significantly on the roads now that many households had two cars instead of one. The situation was worsening and it was only a matter of time before there was total gridlock during the peak hours. Usually she avoided the congestion by leaving later and had had no idea that traffic was so bad at this time of day. Parked on her parents’ driveway, she glanced at her watch while she waited for the elderly security guard to open the gates. She had gained only twenty-one minutes by leaving an hour earlier than usual. Naked, she contemplated the contents of her wardrobe half an hour later, wishing that she’d thought to ask Kevin where they would be dining. It was likely to be at the hotel since he wouldn’t know many places on the island, but he might decide to return to Sasso—he’d enjoyed the food there. Finally she decided on a red skirt suit that was suitable for any of the island’s trendy restaurants, yet would not look too out of place in a burger bar.

***

Kevin was waiting when she arrived at ten minutes past six. He stood and strode across the large reception area to meet her. She watched his long strides cover the distance between them and her heart fluttered. Dressed a little more formally in a long-sleeved tan shirt and dark brown tros he looked quite debonair. As he bent to kiss her cheek his now-familiar aftershave sent a little shiver of awareness down her spine. “You look and smell good enough to eat,” he complimented. Clasping her hand, he continued, “I want to talk to you. I prefer the privacy of my room, but if you’re not comfortable doing that we could dine in one of the restaurants instead.”

Kimberley had known that sooner or later they would have to talk about the problems he’d mentioned when they’d first met. She looked down at the hand clasping hers. The line where his wedding ring had been was still visible although his skin had darkened from the intense Barbadian sun. “I don’t mind dining in your room,” she responded. He hardly seemed the type to rape or kill her and if he did try to pull a fast one she would use a few of her old karate moves on him—unless he was a black belt and knew the moves himself. Had he seemed a little too relieved at her answer? she worried, as they headed towards the curved stairway. She’d dined at the hotel before, but had never been into one of the rooms before. She gazed iringly at the stylish décor when Kevin unlocked the door and ushered her inside. “Very nice!” “I can’t take any credit for choosing the hotel. My travel agent had a late cancellation and I was extremely lucky.” Kevin handed her the elegantly designed hotel menu. “I know you have to be at work early tomorrow, so let’s order now. We can chat while we wait for the food.” For appetizer they both ordered Tiger Shrimp & Vegetable Tempura, with Sweet Chilli Sauce. Kevin ordered Black Pepper crusted Yellow Fin Tuna with Tomato, Fennel, Olives & Sun-Dried Tomatoes for his main course, explaining that he couldn’t get enough of the hotel’s selection of fresh seafood. Kimberley ordered Chicken Curry with Coconut Milk, Channa, and Steamed Basmati Rice with West Indian Condiments. “What would you like to drink?” he asked as she folded away the menu. “Cranberry juice, please.” Kevin took out a bottle of the juice and a beer from the well-stocked mini bar.

Filling a tall glass with ice cubes, the way he noticed she preferred, he poured the ruby-red liquid slowly. Then opening the beer, he picked up the glass and inclined his head towards the patio. “Let’s go outside.” Leading the way, he pulled a chair out for her after he had placed the drinks on the table. Then he pulled his chair closer to hers. They sat in silence for about five minutes just watching the clouds gather in the evening sky. Kimberley wondered apprehensively just how bad his revelation was going to be. “My two-year-old son, Kareem, was killed in an accident last year.” Kevin’s voice was low, matching the calmness of the surroundings, but so filled with pain Kimberley instinctively reached over and covered his hand with hers. “Dawn, my wife and I were devastated, but I thought our love would get us through it. When her therapist suggested a trial separation I agreed believing that once Dawn had had the space she needed she would come back to me.” He turned his hand palm up and entwined his fingers with Kimberley’s. “A week ago my best friend, Anthony, told me that Dawn wanted a divorce. And that he was in love with her and wanted to marry her.” His hand tightened on Kimberley’s painfully. “He and I have been friends since we were three years old. He was more like a brother than a best friend. I’ve loved Dawn since I was fifteen. They hurt me on so many different levels the impact almost killed me. I had always thought if Dawn and I broke up, Anthony would be the only person I would turn to for .” He gave a harsh mirthless laugh. “The more I thought about them together, the angrier I became. I had to get out of the UK. But now I wish that I hadn’t been hasty and left without speaking to Dawn. We made a serious commitment to each other when we got married and I know that she wouldn’t expect me to forgive her if she slept with Anthony. But if that’s the only reason she wants a divorce, I would be willing to swallow my pride and try again if she still loves me.” He turned to Kimberley, his eyes looking less sombre than they did when he’d started talking. “I never thought that I would hear myself say those words! I have met many beautiful women through my job and I have been tempted, believe me, but the one thing that always kept me on the straight and narrow was

knowing that Dawn would be hurt enough to divorce me if she found out.” He brought their entwined hands up and kissed her knuckles softly. “Kimberley, you must now that I’m very attracted to you, but I can’t make any prom—” “Kevin, I don’t expect you to. We’re having a great time together. Let’s just enjoy it. And if I come to do my MBA, it would be nice to have a friend in London.” “Have you decided then?” “Not yet, but I—” Kimberley broke off as the buzzer went. Kevin opened the door and the young waiter set the dishes out on the table with deft, economical movements, then left quietly, discreetly slipping Kevin’s tip into his pocket. “Smell that!” Kevin lifted one of the covers and a delectable aroma filled the room. He seemed to have regained his equilibrium. Kimberley was glad for him, but her mind was still reeling. God, she could think of nothing worse than losing a child. And then to have your wife sleep with your best friend...all in the same year. He was miles tougher than she was mentally, she would have needed a straight jacket. As she sat down to the sumptuous meal, Kimberley felt so choked she doubted that she could eat a thing even though she had skipped lunch to leave work early. “It’s been a tough year,” Kevin said as if reading her mind. “But meeting you has been like sunshine on a cloudy day. I know that sounds a bit corny, but you make me feel happy.” And as silly as it sounded, he had said just the perfect thing. Kimberley picked up her fork, speared a tiger shrimp and found that her appetite had reappeared with a vengeance. Kevin watched her eat with enthusiasm and smiled secretly. Though she ate daintily she didn’t play around with her food as most women did. She seemed to have no obvious issues with food and that was probably why she was in such

great shape. After the meal they returned to the patio, but didn’t resume their earlier conversation. They chatted generally for the next hour and made plans for the rest of the week. At ten o’clock Kimberley reluctantly got up to leave. She still had to work on her schedule before she went to bed. Kevin stood up, took both of her hands in his and pulled her to her feet. He held her gaze for a few seconds before bending to kiss her softly on her full lips. They were so soft he felt the urge to deepen the kiss. Instead he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her briefly. “Thanks for dinner.” She smiled up at him as he released her. “You’re welcome. And thanks for letting me bore you with my problems.” “As they say, ‘a problem shared is a problem halved’. I hope that I have helped in some small way.” “When I’m with you I forget everything else, including the reason why I’m here in the first place. It would be so easy to fall in love with you,” he said, echoing the words Kimberley herself had thought only the night before. She smiled again and Kevin had to fight the urge to take her full, sexy lower lip between his teeth and gently bite on it. Resisting the temptation, he tucked her arm through his and led her out of the room. After watching her taillights become smaller and smaller as she sped away from him, he turned and walked slowly back up to his room. He was still amazed at the discovery he’d made about himself earlier. Never in a million years would he have thought that he would forgive Dawn for sleeping with someone else! And yet as he had said the words earlier he had meant them. Being with Kimberley made him understand how easy it would be to reach for comfort in the nearest available arms. He wanted Kimberley. It was taking every ounce of his willpower to keep his hands off her. And yet he knew that if he somehow gave into the sexual attraction, if she let him drown his sense of loss inside her, it would only be a momentary fix—Dawn would still be the woman he wanted more. Accepting this fact had brought home the fact that the same could be true for Dawn. She could have slept with Anthony in a moment of weakness, but Kevin could still be the man she loved. It was clutching at straws, he knew.

Before Kareem’s death he wouldn’t have even considered it, but he had learned the hard way that life was not perfect and that happiness was so fleeting it had to be grasped with both hands. He was now willing to explore all possibilities and accept his own and other people’s flaws more readily. He enjoyed Kimberley’s company and sensed the feeling was mutual. The spark between them could ignite unexpectedly, but he couldn’t let her think that he was free to pursue a new relationship when there was no resolution to the old. It would be easy to give into the temptation and make love to her, but she needed to make an informed decision and not one based on an omission on his part.

***

The following evening Kimberley drove Kevin to the capital, Bridgetown for grilled fish and macaroni cheese, or macaroni pie, as she called it and they sat in her parked vehicle and ate the meal off Styrofoam plates. Kevin watched her spear a small piece of the seasoned fish and smiled. “You’re quite a contradiction.” “Why do you say that?” she asked, after she had chewed and swallowed the morsel. “On Sunday we were dining formally at Sasso, now here we are sitting in your car eating a meal off disposable plates and you seem to be enjoying this just as much.” “I enjoy good food whether it’s prepared by a top chef or a street vendor.” She pressed the plastic fork into a small piece of the macaroni cheese, popped it into her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully before she smiled. “My mother would die if she ever saw me eating here, but no one can season fish like Miss Doreen. I discovered her when I was at university and I’ve been coming here at least once a month since then.” Kevin gathered their empty plates when they had finished eating and threw them into a nearby rubbish bin.

As they headed back to the hotel, he watched her slim hands guide the vehicle through the still-busy streets. Involuntarily his eyes followed the line of her arm until they rested on the shape of her breasts under her pale yellow top. He let his eyes linger for a moment, his body hardening at the thought of cupping their weight in his hands and lifting them alternatively to his mouth. He was amazed at his reaction to her lush body. Dawn was petite, and the way he’d thought he’d preferred women. Kimberley’s strong, fit body was the exact opposite and yet all he thought of constantly was making ionate love to her. Not trusting himself to act the gentleman, he went around the vehicle to kiss her goodnight. She waved and roared away as he stepped back from the vehicle.

***

The next afternoon Kimberley took half a day’s annual leave and arrived at the hotel just after two o’clock, carrying the two sets of golf clubs she and her father used occasionally. They had played every Saturday when she was younger, but her father’s now more demanding senior role in the government left little time for leisure activities. Several serious enthusiasts were already enjoying the vast golf course when they got there. Kevin occasionally played with his more affluent clients, but he was hardly an expert. Kimberley was better than he’d anticipated. An older couple challenged them to a game. They politely declined, but felt awkward as the couple chose the same holes as they did, making it an unofficial game anyway. They played for less than an hour before making their way down to the beach. Kevin found it hard to look elsewhere when Kimberley revealed the white onepiece bathing suit she had been wearing under her polo shirt and shorts. Her nipples pressed against the soft material, perfectly centred in her firm, round breasts. She had told him that she did fifty lengths in the pool each morning to stay fit when they had discussed exercise regimes. Looking at her body he noted that indeed she had the broad shoulders and slender waist of a swimmer. When she

turned to pull a bathing cap from her bag, he also noted her heart-shaped behind. He consciously looked away as he pushed his khaki shorts off his legs. An erection in Speedos would be impossible to conceal. A few wayward strands escaped as Kimberley tried to tuck her hair into the cap. Kevin moved closer to help her and the delicate perfume she wore filled his nostrils. “I usually do this in front of the mirror,” she explained, standing still until he’d finished. As he stepped away from her, he had to resist the urge to brush his lips across the soft-looking skin of her exposed nape. She looked at him, raised an eyebrow, then turned and raced along the white sand. Belatedly he realized that she had been issuing a silent challenge. Though he only lost a few seconds in pursuing her, she got to the water before he did. They stayed mostly near the water’s edge, standing chest high in the clear, salty water. Kimberley won most of the mini races she challenged him to because she was the better swimmer, and wasn’t afraid to cheat when necessary, calling out the start of a race when he wasn’t quite ready or grabbing his arm or leg if he was ahead of her. Later they were roped into a modified game of water polo by a group of teenagers. After the game Kimberley playfully splashed Kevin but had to concede defeat when he managed to scoop unusually large handfuls of water and direct them straight at her.

***

Dappled sunshine filtering through the leaves of the tree above them slowly dried the moisture from their bodies as they lay side by side on a large beach towel. The sea water evaporated leaving the material of their bathing costumes crispy and an imperceptible layer of tiny salt particles on their skin. The setting sun was a startling riot of oranges and reds, looking to Kevin like the canvas of a colour-blind artist. He had never seen a more glorious sunset. No, he realized with some shock, he had never taken time out to watch the sun set. For thirty years he had missed this spectacular show that was staged every evening, and free of cost. He felt dwarfed by the vastness of the sky above and more alive

than he had ever felt. Whatever happened in the future he suddenly knew with blinding clarity would be exactly what was meant to be. He needed to stop fighting and let life be. “I think I’ll have an early night tonight.” Kimberley sat up and stretched languidly before slowly gathering her scattered belongings. “Aren’t you hungry?” He was positively ravenous. And he didn’t want her to leave just yet. “I am, but I think that I should have dinner with my parents so that they know that I’m still alive. They haven’t seen me all week.” She stepped into her shorts and he followed her to her car, leaning through the open window to kiss her. Her lips remained pliant against his, not giving an indication whether or not she wanted him to deepen the kiss. He stepped back and she turned the key in the ignition. She smiled and winked at him and then with a characteristic wave of her slim hand, she gunned the engine and drove off. Images of her beautifully toned, long limbs filled his thoughts. Her face, arms and legs were the same even tone. The rest of her body was likely to be the same, but even softer from being protected from the elements. The thought of parts of her body being any softer almost overloaded his senses—each time he touched her he was amazed again at her softness. The water had made the bathing suit cling to her body and it had answered the question that he had pondered when they’d danced. She had definitely been as aroused as he when he’d held her in his arms. Today her nipples, though visible through the soft material of her swimsuit, had not been the mini bullets which had pressed firmly into his chest as they had danced.

***

The next evening watching Kimberley undulate her way towards him, Kevin hastily revised his previous plan of dining in his room.

There was only so much temptation a man could take and she was temptation personified in a white halter dress with a spattering of tiny pink flowers and high-heeled pink sandals, which matched the floral motif of the dress. They dined in the Bajan Blue Restaurant and afterwards replete from yet another mouth-watering meal, they sipped coffees and gazed out at the now calm water for long moments in companionable silence. “Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?” Kevin asked, stretching lazily and breaking the spell of enchantment that seemed to hover over the evening. “Yes, please. If I can get to my feet after all that food.” Standing up Kevin offered both hands and prepared to hoist her to her feet. Instead she rose nimbly out of the seat and landed against his chest. They stayed for several breathless moments faces close together, then Kimberley turned, still holding hands and headed towards the beach. They walked bare-foot along the water’s edge, her sandals looking absurdly slender and feminine tied to the laces of his casual shoes and thrown over his shoulder. The shallow impressions they left in the warm sand were quickly washed away by the slowly rising tide. The half moon cast a romantic haze on the clear water. Other couples walking along the beach added to the air of intimacy. When Kevin slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, Kimberley went willingly, her face upturned in anticipation of his kiss. This time when his mouth touched hers, she parted her lips and let him plunge his tongue deep into her mouth, sliding her hands up over his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck. His arms tightened as she challenged his tongue to a playful duel. Time stood still as they clung together. The kiss went on and on...until the sound of laughter brought them back to their senses. “I think I’d better go.” Kimberley laughed softly as they broke apart, her eyes half-closed. Her nipples were standing firmly erect through the material of her halter top. All Kevin wanted to do was push the barrier of cloth away and wrap his lips around one of the swollen peaks while he teased the other with his fingers. Just the thought of it made blood rush to his already painful erection. He took an

unsteady breath and brought his raging body under control. “Yes, that’s probably a good idea,” he agreed, making no attempt to let her go. She slipped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder as he held her silently. Finally she raised her head and he kissed her softly and slid his hand down her arm to intertwine his fingers with hers. “Ready?” He barely recognized the deep growl as his own voice. “Yes,” she whispered, her eyes dark and slumberous in her smooth face. Kevin bent and touched his lips to hers once more, briefly, before turning and heading to her vehicle. “Drive safely.” He stroked her arm and then stood back as she turned the key in the ignition and raced out of the car park. Two hours later, he was still lying on his bed trying to find a comfortable sleeping position for his restless body. He wished he knew for sure that what he felt for Kimberley was not just the consequence of a year’s enforced celibacy, the need for physical release. Something warned him that even if he and Dawn were somehow able to mend the broken pieces of their marriage when he got back to the UK, Kimberley would stay in his memory. She had appeared like an oasis in his desert of despair. And he sensed that making love to her would change him in some elemental way. The way making love to Dawn had. She hadn’t been the first woman he’d made love to, but when he had finally made love to her he had felt a connection that had stunned him. They had been childhood sweethearts. She had transferred in from another school at the age of fourteen when her family moved to the more affluent area. They had been in the same year but in different classes. He had seen her in the Physics laboratory, the first time their classes had overlapped and had taken the seat next to her. Her large thick-lashed eyes had widened in alarm and she had leaned away from him. He’d smiled and hastily apologized for startling her. Years later she confessed that he had seemed like a giant and had scared her witless. While he had been a broad-shouldered five-foot-eleven and rapidly growing, she had been a late developer—her petite body as slender as a reed, her budding breasts just making their appearance, her hips still boyishly slim.

At eighteen and bursting with sexual energy, he had been frustrated at every attempt to make love to her. Finally Dawn had told him that she didn’t want to have pre-marital sex. Flabbergasted, and horny after three years of getting no further than kissing, he’d told her that he would die if he had to wait another four years, until they finished university and got married. She’d surprised him by telling him that she didn’t mind if he slept with someone else provided he used protection and was discreet. Strangely, knowing that he could now sleep with any of the groupies who had hung around the band, his urgency to lose his virginity had lessened dramatically. It was only when he went to university that he went a little crazy, comprehensively making up for the late start of his sexual experience. But even during the most exciting and unpredictable of encounters, a part of him had remained separate—following on the heels of fulfilment had often come a feeling of emptiness. On their wedding day Dawn’s heart-shaped face had looked more beautiful than he’d ever seen it. He had felt an overwhelming rush of love as he’d stood at the altar waiting as her proud father brought her up the aisle to give her away. They had thought a honeymoon an unnecessary expense since they were moving into their newly purchased house and would have been making love for the first time ever on their wedding night, but his parents had insisted on paying for a two-week, all-inclusive holiday in the Bahamas. The wedding reception had been in full swing when they had left at midnight, the guests reluctant to leave while there was plenty of food and drinks still left to consume. They had tumbled into bed for a few hours sleep before heading to the airport to catch an early flight the next morning. On the flight thoughts of the impending pleasure-filled days ahead had tormented Kevin, almost sending him crazy with frustration. Thankfully under the thick blankets the airline had provided for warmth Dawn had allowed him to caress her more boldly than she had up until that point. Finally making love to her less than an hour after their arrival was worth every single moment of anticipation. That night, physically and emotionally drained and holding a sleeping, equally exhausted Dawn, Kevin had finally understood why people differentiated between the ‘having sex’ and ‘making love’. When he had come for the first time, squeezed snugly inside her, he had felt moments away from madness.

Every past sexual experience he’d had faded into insignificance. In the fourteen days they’d left their room only twice to explore the island and even on those occasions they hadn’t ventured far. The first year of marriage had been bliss, they’d both had demanding jobs but coming home every day to each other made up for the long, hard days. They had carefully planned their future, even purchasing a four-bedroom house because they had both wanted several children. The mortgage had been considerable but they had managed it along with all the other bills by cutting their entertainment budget to the minimum. They had struggled financially for the first eighteen months, sometimes barely having a few pounds left in their t in the run-up to pay day. Searching through almost bare cupboards for the ingredients to put together a slap-up meal when they were broke had made them laugh rather than frustrate them. They could have borrowed from her parents or either of his sisters but they had wanted to show their financial independence. And for that very reason they resisted the many credit card companies that had bombarded them with offers of unlimited credit once they had become homeowners. Those had been young, idyllic days—life had held so much possibility and promise. Before their marriage they had decided to wait two years before having a family but Dawn had grown broody in less than a year. They had brought the plan forward, assuming that conception would follow as soon as she came off the pill. Two years later she had still not conceived and they had both begun to worry. Neither the weekend in Paris for their first anniversary nor the week in Amsterdam for their second had helped. By the third year of marriage their inability to conceive had begun to cast a shadow on their previously tranquil existence. Kevin booked a surprise trip to the Bahamas for their third anniversary. Fourteen days in paradise renewed their ion for each other and strengthened their love. Five weeks after their return their local GP confirmed Dawn’s pregnancy. From the moment he was born their son Kareem, a miniature Kevin, was a real bundle of joy. Both of Kevin’s sisters doted on him as all their children except

for his sister Deanne’s youngest, Shauntay, were teenagers and they’d both missed having a baby around. Anthony, Kareem’s godfather and Kevin’s best friend, fought good-naturedly with Kevin’s sisters for the chance to baby-sit Kareem whenever the opportunity arose. He had been blessed with loving parents and a strong network of carers. Then, one hot summery day last August, Dawn had called Kevin at work, completely hysterical—Kareem had been struck by a ing car and killed instantly. Their two-year-old had suddenly pulled free from her grasp to chase after an elderly woman’s hat which had been taken by a gust of wind and blown into the street. Kevin had never blamed Dawn for Kareem’s death. She had been the perfect if slightly indulgent mother and he knew that she had loved their son even more than he did, if that was possible. The night of Kareem’s death, he and Dawn had made love with quiet desperation, both needing comfort and an escape from reality once their friends and relatives had departed. They hadn’t made love since. He had tried to give her the space she needed, many nights just holding her in his arms as she slept, his body a raging torrent of need. Their marriage had been slowly falling apart and finally they had decided to see a therapist. After their third t session the therapist suggested that she work with them separately. Kevin, who had been going purely for Dawn’s benefit, immediately discontinued his sessions. Dawn had continued to see the therapist once a week and when she had returned to work three months after Kareem’s funeral, Kevin had thought that she was gradually coming to grips with the loss of their son. It had been a total shock to receive a call from her therapist six weeks later requesting his presence at Dawn’s next scheduled session. The memory of that hour spent with the therapist still had the power to stop his breath, like a hard punch to the solar plexus. It had brought home just how much they had drifted apart and how well Dawn had hidden the depth of her anguish from him. She had itted that every time she looked into his eyes she was consumed with guilt—all she saw was her baby’s eyes staring back at her accusingly. She had said that seeing Kevin every day was torture, the fact that

Kareem had been a carbon copy of his father made her miss her baby even more. She had said that she was slowly beginning to cope at work, and with friends and family, but being around Kevin made the memories too much to bear. Although he’d been asked to listen and respond only if Dawn asked him a direct question, at that point Kevin had felt it necessary to reiterate the fact that he in no way blamed her for Kareem’s death. Dawn had assured him that she knew he didn’t hold her responsible. What she couldn’t cope with was the fact that she had caused him so much pain. Agreeing to the trial separation suggested by the therapist had been a tough decision, but Kevin had consented, thinking that the time apart would allow her to heal. He had been willing to live in rented accommodation for the duration of the separation, but Dawn had offered to move instead, wanting to escape their once-happy home and the memories it held. She had wanted to break the habit she’d developed of spending hours every day in her son’s room sobbing as she held his favourite toy or his pillow or anything that still held his sweet, innocent baby smell. She had rented a studio flat in Peckham, the southeast of London—miles away from Wanstead, the area Kevin had been born and raised, the area where they had planned to raise their own family. A month apart had turned into two and then three, with no sign of an imminent reconciliation. Then days ago, five months into the separation, his best friend Anthony had walked into his office and dropped a bombshell that had rocked Kevin’s world: Dawn wanted a divorce. And then he had said that he was in love with her and wanted to marry her himself. Kevin had stood in shock for about two minutes, trying to assimilate the fact that the boy he had met in kindergarten, the boy who had become his best friend, the boy he loved like a brother, had become the man who had betrayed him in the worst possible way. In a rage he had thrown Anthony a right uppercut using all the force he could muster, his full body weight behind the blow. Later that evening when he recalled the split-second moment when Anthony had instinctively moved to avoid the punch, but then stayed the movement as if he felt he deserved the blow,

Kevin wished that he had thrown several more punches. Anthony had staggered, but had remained on his feet. In any other circumstance Anthony would have immediately retaliated and a full scale fight would have ensued. Kevin was two inches taller, but Anthony was broader. They hadn’t fought since they had wrestled at the age of twelve until they had been so physically exhausted they had collapsed onto Kevin’s parents’ lawn. It had taken several minutes for them to recover and then they had both conceded that neither was stronger than the other. They had grown up with the same conviction. They were equally matched physically—a fight between them would likely be to the death of one or the other. And the other could end up so injured, he did not survive himself. Fighters, boxers, sometimes recognized this equality with their opponents, the knowing that the difference between success and failure was sheer luck on the day. Anthony had straightened after the punch, his eyes watering from the impact of the blow and emotions he seemed rigidly suppressing, and walked out of the office. Grabbing his briefcase and his laptop, Kevin had headed through the door himself, knowing that he needed to immediately put some space between himself and the man who occupied the identical office next to his. Before he did something irrevocable—like murder him! He got to the front door of his house purely by instinct, rage like a red mist blinding him to his surroundings. Not bothering to undress he had opened the bottle of 10-Year-Old Rum his mother had sent him from Guyana and taken a generous swig straight from the bottle. By late evening he had been oblivious to anything but the need to sleep. The next morning he had awakened still pulsating with fury, but calm enough to consider the ramifications of losing the two people who meant more to him than anyone except his immediate family. After graduating university he and Anthony had started an investment company which, after a tough start, had succeeded beyond even their expectations. As business partners the closeness they had shared growing up like brothers, and knowing each other’s strengths and weaknesses, had been pivotal in that success. Many of their best ideas had come from their late night brain-storming

sessions, much the same as the late study sessions which had helped them both achieve first class degrees years before. Their highly-profitable business was unlikely to survive if they let personal issues affect their business relationship— but could they separate the two? It was because they were so close and trusted each other implicitly that the business had succeeded in the first place. But if Anthony was capable of personal betrayal of this magnitude, he could be equally capable of doing the same professionally. Logically, it made sense. And yet, every instinct told Kevin that that logic was absolute nonsense. Feeling like he had aged twenty years since Kareem’s death and knowing that for the sake of his own sanity he needed some breathing space, Kevin had called his travel agent. He’d had no set destination in mind, just the strong desire to put some distance between himself and the UK for a week or two. His call to the travel agent had been timed to perfection; just forty-five minutes after one of the travel agent’s wealthier clients had cancelled a ten-night holiday to Barbados at the last minute, due to ill health. Kevin had just had enough time to say goodbye to both of his sisters and their families before he’d left two days later. He had informed Anthony of his trip by email, not trusting himself to tell him face-to-face.

Chapter Five

Friday evening Kimberley drove Kevin to Oistins. There were several vehicles already parked in the few available parking spaces and they had to walk back a fair distance after finding suitable parking. “Let’s eat while the queues aren’t too long.” Kimberley guided him to a set of chairs around a group of women who were deftly turning fish steaks and ensuring that the flying fish weren’t overcooked while at the same time serving customers. They both ordered fried flying fish. Kevin opted for a green salad while Kimberley had a pasta salad. Afterwards Kimberley drove him back to the hotel but made no attempt to leave the vehicle. He released his seatbelt and then hers, and took her into his arms to kiss her goodnight. She cupped the back of his head and returned his kiss, but without the urgency of her kisses the previous evening. Rubbing his nose briefly against hers, Kevin released her. It felt as though she had given herself a firm talking to and had stepped back from the potential disaster of their budding relationship. He was glad that one of them was being sensible. But it felt as though a rain cloud had suddenly obscured the sun as he stepped from the vehicle. “Do you want to come to The Boatyard with us tonight?” “Yes!” Kevin winced at his unconcealed eagerness. He hadn’t wanted to invite himself along since he and Kimberley had already made plans to go to the After Dark Nightclub the following evening, but he had been feeling disappointed that she hadn’t invited him along with her and Brenda later that evening. Earlier he had acknowledged to himself that an evening without her was a good thing, that there was a limit to his control. But if it was a choice between spending a night on his own and being tempted beyond endurance, he would rather be tempted. “Okay, we’ll pick you up outside the hotel at about half past eleven.” She waved to him and pulled away from the kerb. It was just after half nine. He had enough time for a snooze before he showered

and dressed. He was ready and waiting outside the hotel, dressed in a white polo shirt and forest green slacks, at the appointed time. Ten minutes later Marcus drove up. Kimberley poked her head through one of the back windows and beckoned him over. He thought of squeezing in next to her, but it seemed foolish when there was a vacant front enger seat. He opened the door and slid into the vehicle. Marcus’s response to his greeting was almost indistinct. Kevin ignored him as he turned to be introduced to the slim young woman sitting next to Kimberley. He couldn’t clearly make out her features in the darkened car, but her teeth flashed as she smiled. “I hope you are wearing your party shoes because we take no prisoners,” she warned as she shook his hand. “I’m an old man, but I’ll try to keep up.” Brenda, Kimberley had told him, was a classically trained ballet dancer who had performed as the prima ballerina at several major productions. But at twenty she had branched out into African and contemporary dance, finding the wider scope for improvisation much more suited to her inventive style of dancing. She’d started her dance studio three years ago and almost from the first day her classes were fully booked in advance. She had employed one teacher to teach some of the junior classes and was currently looking for another.

***

As soon as they entered the club Brenda started dancing. It never failed to amaze Kimberley that for someone who danced every day as a profession, Brenda danced tirelessly and with undisguised enthusiasm when she had the opportunity. Kimberley and Kevin watched her move her lithe body to the music, a Pina Colada and a sweating bottle of Banks beer on the table in front of them. At five-foot-four Brenda was just above average height for a woman, but with her slim, perfectly-postured dancer’s body she appeared taller. At midnight the DJ made an announcement that Kevin didn’t quite catch, the

background music and the man’s heavily-accented voice made some of the words indistinct. He heard the words “Alison Hinds” and strained unsuccessfully to hear the rest. “Come on.” Kimberley quickly grabbed his hand and moved to a prime position right in front of the stage, right next to Brenda who got there seconds ahead of them. The beautiful female singer on the stage gyrated her body as she started singing, moving her waist as though she had no spinal column. Kimberley and Brenda matched her every move. For every red-blooded male present it was an insane choice between the lead singer of the band on the stage and the two friends dancing just in front of it—unless they were cross-eyed it was impossible to witness the two simultaneously. But the singer, known to relish a challenge, raised a hand and stopped the band. “I have some competition here in the front row. Come on up on this stage you two and let everybody see that whiine.” Brenda jumped lithely onto the stage as Kevin gave Kimberley a hand up. Alison stepped between them and looked from one to the other as she asked, “Ready, ladies?” The crowd’s catcalls drowned their replies. “From the top,” Alison instructed the band and the three of them proceeded to give the onlookers the treat of a lifetime. There was little to choose between them. Alison’s skills had been honed from years of performing and delighting her fans. Brenda’s from an innate ability with which she seemed born. Kimberley’s movements were slightly more contained than the other two, but Kevin couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. There was something so sultry, so seductive about her. Brenda sat down for the first time when she jumped off the stage, a little less lithely than she had jumped on it. Kevin smiled, pleased to see that she was human after all. As they sat around the small table the light behind Kevin shone directly onto her face and with a jolt he realized that she had amber eyes. Just like Anthony. His jaw tightened and he quickly shifted his gaze to Kimberley sitting beside her. She smiled and he felt himself relax, the sudden burst of

anger disappearing like it had never been. The simple red top and black jeans she wore tonight were the most modest items of clothing he had seen her wear on a night out, yet the hint of her breasts under the loose material of the top played havoc with his senses. The jeans hugged her behind, emphasizing her trim waist and clinging lovingly to her long toned legs. He took a lengthy pull of his beer to dispel the thought of those legs wrapped around him as he made love to her. Finally, the DJ slowed the music down and he held Kimberley in his arms and they danced closely until the early hours of the morning. Marcus was waiting as they exited the club and Kevin wondered if Kimberley had paid him to wait for her or if he had made other trips in the intervening time. Brenda graciously took the front enger seat, allowing Kevin and Kimberley the privacy of the back seat. After seeing Brenda home safely, Marcus turned the car around to drop Kimberley off in almost the opposite direction. As Kevin slipped his arm around her and kissed her, he had the eerie feeling that Marcus had positioned his rear-view mirror so that he had a view of them. He opened his eyes and met the other man’s disapproving glare in the mirror. Thinking that it was better not to provoke the man into driving recklessly, Kevin broke the kiss and pulled Kimberley’s head onto his shoulder. He stroked her bare arm as the driver sped through the quiet streets. Kimberley didn’t seem concerned at the speed, so he swallowed his instinctive objections and nuzzled her neck, breathing in the groin-tightening fragrance of her perfume. When Marcus pulled up in front of the sprawling two-storey mansion that was Kimberley’s parents’ home Kevin was shocked at it size. It looked more like a small hotel than a private residence. He got out of the car and gave Kimberley a hand to alight, planning to kiss her goodnight at the front door which was some distance from the high iron-wrought gates. But he cursed under his breath as a security guard emerged from the small hut just beyond the open gate and asked, “Do you want the main gates open, Miss Kimberley?” “No, thank you. I’ll walk to the house.” She turned to face Kevin, indicating that this was where they parted. “’Night, Kevin.”

“Good night.” He kissed her cheek and watched her walk up the driveway and slip into the house. Perversely, Marcus was no longer in a hurry as he drove Kevin to the hotel in complete silence. Kevin didn’t mind the quiet; his mind was filled with Kimberley. But every taxi driver he’d met since he’d been on the island had engaged him in conversation once they realized that he was a tourist. Most of them had suggested places of interest to visit or had asked about prominent UK footballers, celebrities or the Royal family. Marcus’s brooding silence was unusual, but Kevin didn’t let it intrude on his pleasant memories of the evening. When they got to the hotel, Marcus refused a tip, insisting on giving Kevin every cent of his change. It was as though he and Kevin were in a silent contest, though for the life of Kevin he couldn’t think what he and the man could be competing for as the man crashed the gears and raced away at breakneck speed. Perhaps the man resented the fact that Kevin was a foreigner and was messing around with a local woman. No one liked to see one of their own with an outsider, Kevin acknowledged. He worried about the man’s intentions every time he saw a white man with a Black woman. The once-rare phenomenon had become quite commonplace in London in the last years, but it still took some getting used to.

***

Kimberley lay on her bed and contemplated the intricate design of the high ceiling above her. Kevin would be gone in three days. She smiled as she recalled the conversation she’d had with Penny at lunchtime. “How is the romance going?” her colleague had asked teasingly. “It isn’t a romance, we are just friends” “Are you going to let that fine brother go back to the UK without getting you

some?” “Penny, what are you like? The man’s married. He and his wife might be having problems, but he is still a married man.” “This is the best time to get in there! Give him some black sugar and let him take the memory back to the UK with him. So if he and his wife break up, you have a better chance with him than some other woman in the UK.” “Thank God, you don’t write an advice column! That’s the worst advice I’ve ever heard! Besides he lives in the UK and I live here. It wouldn’t work.” “That’s the lamest excuse I’ve heard in a long time! Girlfriend, if you let that man slip through your fingers you’ll regret it,” Penny had warned. “Your eyes light up when you talk about him,. Friends, yeah, right. The guy’s got you sprung, girlfriend!” Kimberley wished she had Penny’s fearlessness. If the woman had ever lost sleep over a man she had hidden it well. She seemed to approach sex with the same casualness as most men—she conquered and moved on. But sex couldn’t be casual for Kimberley. Letting a man inside her body was a very intimate act. She couldn’t do that with just anyone. It had to be someone special. Kevin was special. It had to be someone with whom she was contemplating a long-term relationship, someone she might one day marry. Kevin was already married. She’d never thought of sleeping with a married man. In her book women who did so were deliberately setting themselves up for heartbreak. How could a woman truly respect a man who cheated on his wife? How could he respect her for sleeping with him knowing that he was married? Respect was everything to Kimberley. She demanded and gave it in equal measure. She could walk away with her respect, denying what she felt for Kevin.

But she was almost paralysed by the thought that it would be a repeat of one of the most unsettled periods in her life. It had started out innocuously enough one rainy day when as a young girl she had found a tattered old book with both covers missing at her grandmother’s house. She had checked the back to ensure that the last chapter was complete and satisfied she decided to read until the sun came out again. Engrossed, she hadn’t noticed when the rain had stopped. Later, tucked snugly in bed she had come to the last page and realized that an entire chapter or more was missing. It had been an awful sensation, like falling from an airplane without a parachute. For months she had looked in vain in bookstores and libraries. Her mother had finally found a copy in a rare bookstore in New York. The ending had been a letdown, not worth the months of restlessness and the feeling of incompletion, but the relief at finally knowing how it ended had been priceless. Letting Kevin leave without making love with him might be like reading that book again.

***

The next day Kimberley took Kevin to Garrisons for live horse racing. The stadium was packed and as they walked through the crowd to find a place to sit she felt people’s curious stares. Sometimes she felt like she was living in a goldfish bowl, as if nothing she did escaped the public’s notice. As the horses took to the stalls for the first race, she regretted her decision to come. Horses filled her with nostalgia. For her thirteenth birthday her father had bought her a chestnut pony that she had ridden every day and spent hours grooming. Nothing had ever come close to the sensation of galloping in an open field, the pony’s hooves flying beneath her. Then someone had told her mother that horse riding would make Kimberley bow-legged. Her mother had forbidden her to ride the pony, but Kimberley had still rode him secretly. She had known that she would inevitably be caught, but had been unprepared for the severity of the punishment. Expecting another warning, she’d been shocked when her mother had promptly sold the horse.

She and Kevin placed small bets but neither of them had any real luck. One horse placed, but even ‘each way’ the winnings amounted to little more than the original bet. By mid-afternoon they returned to the hotel, driven from the race track by the heat of the day. Kimberley changed into a red and white one-piece swimming suit in Kevin’s bathroom, tied a matching sarong around her waist and slipped her feet in red flip-flops after she had pulled on her white swim cap. In the meantime Kevin had changed into dark blue Speedos, a white polo shirt and three-quarter length denim shorts in the bedroom. When they reached the beach his eyes widened as they took in the high-cut leg of the suit as Kimberley unwrapped the sarong. Technically it was a one-piece but there wasn’t a lot of material ing the top of the suit to the bottom of it. Large oval cut-outs on each side revealed the dip of her trim waist. This time, prepared when she started sprinting towards the water, he wasted no time in running after her. He caught her just before she got to the water and held her briefly, his hands coming around to caress the silky skin of her upper arms. He released her when his groin, forced into with her prominent behind, twitched warningly with no regard for the time or the place. They frolicked in the water for about an hour before they dragged themselves lazily out to lie together in the shade of a tree and let the warm air dry their bodies. Kevin breathed a sigh of relief when Kimberley turned over and lay on her front. The sight of her pert breasts covered only by the clinging material of the swimsuit was playing havoc with his control. But his relief was short-lived as he got a glimpse of the firm mounds of her beautifully-shaped bottom. She didn’t have a bad side—she was delectable both back and front. He turned over too, closed his eyes and pretended to take a light snooze. But soon the lull in the conversation, the sound of the gently lapping waves and the warm of the sun turned his pretence into reality as he drifted into a deep sleep. He was awakened by Kimberley gently stroking the side of his face. Opening his eyes, he found her smiling down at him. “Wake up sleepyhead!”

“How long was I asleep?” He sat up, surprised to see that the sun was almost setting in the clear blue sky. “About three hours. You looked so peaceful, it seemed a shame to wake you.” Kimberley sat up too and stretched her arms above her head lazily. The movement drew his eyes to the full contours of her breasts and stirred a memory of the erotic dream that he’d just been having. He’d pushed her back against the bed and slowly peeled the soft straps of the swimsuit off her shoulders and revealed her full, luscious breasts. The sight had made him surge into instant readiness. Cupping them softly, he had teased their peaks into rigid points before covering one with his... “Are you hungry?” he asked her, pushing the image out of his head. “I’m starving, but I haven’t got the energy to get up.” He got to his feet and offered her a hand. She placed hers in it and he pulled her to her feet, surprised by the energy it took. She was no lightweight. All the rulebooks stated that women should be as light as a feather and eat like a bird covered in said feathers. Kimberley defied the rulebooks. And there was something infinitely reassuring about that. He felt absurdly proud of her as she reached for her crumpled sarong, shook it free of sand particles and wrapped it around her body as she slipped her feet into the flip-flops. She was his image of Africa—beautiful and bountiful. Smiling, he took her hand and they walked slowly to the Bajan Blue restaurant.

***

Kimberley showered and changed back into her white silk shirt and her buffcoloured linen skirt. Then she grabbed the current copy of Time and went out to the patio to wait while Kevin showered. Lost in thought, she didn’t stir until she heard his footsteps. Dressed in a cut-off T-shirt and a pair of faded jeans, he looked big and male and...edible. “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes searching hers as he eased himself into the chair beside hers. “I’m fine.” She got up, walked to the safety rail and looked up first at the stars and then across the now-still waters of the Caribbean Sea, suddenly feeling forlorn. Kevin got up and encircled her with his arms from behind. “This time next week, you’ll be in London,” she reminded him. This time in three days he would be in London, but if the thought of a week was scary, three days was downright frightening. She felt Kevin’s arms tightened around her. It was hard to imagine that eight short days ago she hadn’t known he existed. Now the thought of him leaving filled her with sadness. He bent his head and kissed her lightly on the side of her throat. She arched her neck invitingly and he pressed his lips against the taut surface and teasingly pulled her flesh into his mouth, making her sigh in arousal. Wordlessly she turned in his arms and met his lips greedily. There was no sound of laughter to break the intensity of their kisses this time. His hands cupped her head, his thumbs caressing her earlobes as he plundered her lips. She pressed her body into his and stroked his nape. Kimberley had been kissed dozens of times before but never had her entire body ached for fulfilment merely by someone’s lips caressing the contours of her own. The brush of his tongue against hers threatened to make her forget her own name.

Tumbling backwards onto the bed, lips locked together, they exchanged long, drugging kisses. Finally, trying to bring a moment of sanity to the heated atmosphere of the cosy room, Kevin dragged his lips away from hers and looked into her eyes as he smoothed her hair away from her face. She could see that he was looking for a sign from her to stop the madness, but she was too far gone to act as a rein for her arousal, much less his. They stared at each other for a few minutes, chests rising and falling with their quicken breaths, before he dipped his head and captured her lips again. At first his lips were soft against hers as if he was still trying to douse the flame of their ion, but as soon as she opened her lips and her tongue touched his, his control seem to snap again. She felt her nipples peak and harden long before his hand covered her breast through the soft material of her shirt. She slipped her hands under his T-shirt and ran them over the short crisp hairs covering his chest before finding the flat coins of his nipples. She tweaked them in the same way that he was now tweaking hers. His body’s response against her stomach was instantaneous and his tongue plunged deeper into her mouth. Popping the buttons of her shirt open, he pushed aside the soft cup of her lacy bra. His large hand cupped her breast and moulded it softly, his fingers finding the taut, aching peak and massaging it firmly. His lips left hers, raining moist kisses down her neck, her shoulder and finally the upper slopes of her breast. She waited with bated breath and when his lips finally closed over the dark spike of her nipple she breathed his name in a harsh whisper. Cradling his head in one hand, she reached out and grasped the sheet with the other. She looked down, drowning in sensation. The sight of him at her breast gave her such an overwhelming feeling of tenderness, she leaned down and showered the side of his face with kisses. As his lips covered hers again, the cool sea breeze quickly dried the damp black pearl that his mouth had abandoned but his fingers were now tweaking firmly, sending a shiver of pleasure through her. Feverishly she ran her hands over his broad chest and muscular back as he kissed her deeply.

When his hand left her breast to sweep downward, pushing the material of her skirt aside to caress the smooth firmness of her thigh, she sighed and parted her legs. Moving his hand inwards, he slip them slowly up her inner thigh until his fingers encountered the damp crotch of her thong. Pushing aside the sodden triangular of material, he stroked her lightly but expertly. She tore her lips away from his to gasp his name. His mouth returned to torment her swollen nipple as his caressing fingers grew bolder, the longest bold enough to enter the cave of her womanhood as the thumb pressed insistently, knowingly against her. Her hips moved wantonly in counterpoint to his fingers and she lost all sense of time. She bared her other breast herself as it grew envious of its twin and immediately Kevin moved his lips across to suck on it, assuring it that it was equally loved. She didn’t realize how close to the edge she was until he pushed a second finger into her wetness and she felt herself fiercely gripping them both as she tumbled over the precipice, gasping his name breathlessly. The sound of metal on metal was harsh in the quiet room. Kimberley looked down instinctively as Kevin unzipped his fly. She tensed and quickly sat up, pulling the edges of her shirt together. What the hell was she doing? “I’m sorry, Kevin!” She buttoned her shirt with trembling hands. Kevin sat up, reached out and covered them with his. “It’s okay.” Kimberley felt the heat run up her cheeks as she ed how she’d arched and purred like a cat minutes ago. “I’ll see you later.” She pulled her hands free, jumped off the bed and grabbed her bag. Kevin got off the bed too and opened the door just as she reached it. He bent and kissed her softly before he let her slip by him and through the door. She seemed to be in a hurry to leave. He would have seen her to her car, but he

needed a few minutes for the evidence of his arousal to subside. It was still clearly imprinted through his jeans. Closing the door, he went back to the bed and laid on it, cradling the back of his head in his linked hands, a habit he’d developed as a teenager when he needed to think. Kimberley halting their lovemaking was probably for the best—his life was already too complicated. He felt a strange kind of relief, though his body begged to differ. He had wanted Kimberley, desperately, but until he and Dawn sat down face-toface and decided their next step he wasn’t a free man. He had to know that it was over with Dawn. Kimberley was extremely desirable, but if it came to a choice between her and Dawn, he would still choose the woman who had captured his heart as a fifteen-year-old boy. His pillows held the subtle, elusive scent Kimberley wore and he buried his face in their softness and breathed her in, feeling like an eighteen-year-old again as his erection reared its head.

***

Kevin smiled at Kimberley as he slipped into the back seat of Marcus’s taxi and she seemed to visibly relax as he leaned down and kissed her cheek. She snuggled against him and he laid his head against hers, careful not to disturb her sleek French twist. Once again as Marcus drove them to the After Dark Nightclub, Kevin had the uneasy feeling that the younger man was watching their every move in his rearview mirror. The club was as full as usual but they managed to get seats at the bar since the majority of the clubbers were on the dance floor dancing to Rhianna’s Rude Boy. They exchanged small talk as they ired the dancers gyrating body-tobody. Kevin had seen dirty dancing before but Bajan seemed to have taken it to another level.

When the soca session started Kimberley took him by the hand, giving him no chance to refuse as she headed onto the dance floor. The last time Kevin had danced to soca or calypso music was three years previously when his sisters had persuaded him to go to Guyana for the republic celebrations on February 23rd, Mashramani, or Mash as the locals called it. Dawn, his sisters and their families had sat in the stands at the National Park, but Kevin and a male cousin had marched behind the floats, one cold Banks beer after the other in hand, the entire length of the parade. The next day he had slept until late afternoon. His musclebound legs had taken almost a week to recover. Thankfully this was nothing in comparison, he was sure. And Kimberley would dance for both of them. Twenty-five minutes later, he stumbled back to the bar, grateful that he worked out at least three times a week. It was like doing a non-stop twenty-five minute squat, while rotating his waist in time to the beat. Kimberley sprang gracefully onto the high stool barely puffing. The bartender placed a fresh cocktail on the bar as soon as she had settled. “And a Banks for my friend, please?” Kimberley responded as the bartender raised an eyebrow inquiringly. The young woman took a brown bottle embossed with a distinctive white ship logo from the drinks cooler, opened it and ed it to Kevin. He wiped the top of the ice-cold bottle and then chinked against Kimberley’s glass as she raised it for a toast. Then he put the beer to his lips and almost half-emptied it. The dancing had seriously zapped his energy, but it seemed to have been a mere warm-up for Kimberley. She took just two sips of her drink before she slid back off the stool. “I’ll be back in a second.” He watched her walk away from him, the simply-cut aqua dress she wore was deceptively modest from the front but it plunged in a v-shape to her waist at the back. She looked as good going as she did coming. He turned his attention to the dance floor as he sipped the rest of his beer. It was

only as he tipped his head to finish the bottle that he realized that she’d been away longer than he’d anticipated and began to worry. About to slip off the stool and go in search of her, he saw her walking slowly towards him a smile on her face. No, she definitely looked better coming—her sunny smile eclipsed everything else. “Hi, Miss Collins.” Kevin looked up as a slender young woman hugged Kimberley. “This is my work colleague, Sonia,” Kimberley explained, hugging the woman around her waist. “She’s Marcus’s younger sister.”

***

Kimberley had pulled a few strings to get Sonia a job at the bank, but the young woman had more than proved her worth. Marcus had told Kimberley about his sister, how bright she was and the difficulty she was having finding a job. Kimberley had told him to have Sonia come to see her the following Monday. The young woman had turned up, smartly dressed and with a certificate showing outstanding CXC results. There hadn’t been a vacant position, but Kimberley had persuaded the branch manager to give Sonia a job as an apprentice until the next member of staff resigned or went on maternity leave. In less than six weeks he had offered her a fulltime position even though a vacancy hadn’t arisen. Sonia was still embarrassingly grateful to Kimberley for giving her the opportunity, but Kimberley constantly reminded her that although she may have been instrumental in getting her the job, it was the young woman’s hard work that kept her employed. Soul music started playing as Kimberley took the first sip of a fresh cocktail. She rolled her eyes as Kevin laughed. The DJ was probably drunk. He had played a session of soul and they had returned to the bar when he had changed to reggae. Now he had gone back to soul music after just one song.

Kevin took her hand and led her to the dance floor, after Sonia agreed to tend their drinks. After just two songs, the DJ changed the style of music again. Shrugging in defeat, they smiled at each other and headed back to the bar. Kevin was surprised to see Marcus, dressed for a night on the town, talking to his sister. Ignoring Kevin, he said hello to Kimberley and headed on to the dance floor. Kevin and Kimberley resumed crowd watching. Suddenly at around quarter to three Kimberley put her head against his shoulder saying that she felt sleepy. Kevin laughed, welcoming the feel of her warm body against his. He stroked her bare arm as she nestled against his shoulder. But several minutes later he realized that something wasn’t right. She wasn’t merely leaning against him; he was ing her entire body weight. She was totally out it! Calling her name sharply, he tried to shake her awake, but to no avail. He was trying to get the bartender’s attention when the biggest man he’d seen in his life approached and hoisted Kimberley up into his arms like she was a rag doll. “Hey, what the hell do you think you are doing?” Kevin demanded, racing after the man as he turned and strode to the exit. The man might be four inches taller and twice as wide as he, but there was no way he was going to let the Incredible Hunk’s Black twin just walk off with Kimberley. A bouncer grabbed his arm as he reached the door, shouting over the music, “It’s alright—that’s her father’s bodyguard.” Kevin struggled against the man’s restraining hold and eventually the man let him go. By the time he pushed his way past a group of men also leaving the club all he saw were the taillights of a large dark car as it sped off into the night, a Mercedes-Benz silver emblem glinting under the glare of the streetlights. Kevin tapped sharply against the window of the nearest taxi. The driver jerked awake with a start and looked around stupidly as though he had no idea where he

was before he rolled down the window and asked Kevin his destination. He glared suspiciously at Kevin’s set face a few seconds and then released the safety locks. Kevin climbed into the back of the car feeling suddenly tired. He was surprised that Kimberley had gotten drunk, all she’d had earlier at the hotel was cranberry juice and then about one and a half cocktails at the club. He doubted that she had drunk any alcohol before she had left home, she had seen perfectly sober in the taxi on the way to the club. And she had certainly not been drunk while she had danced the soca session. Then he ed the length of time she had spent when she’d visited the ladies. Had she taken something? Some drug? He hadn’t thought that she was the kind of woman to meddle with drugs, but she was a rich man’s daughter and children of the rich seemed more prone to habits than most. The large car was parked on the driveway just outside the front door when the taxi driver pulled up to the imposing Collins’s residence. Wearily Kevin got out of and walked to the security hut to enquire if Kimberley had arrived home safely. The older man looked at Kevin strangely, but nodded his head in confirmation. Kevin climbed back into the taxi. It was going to be a long, restless, sleepless night.

***

The next day Kevin called Kimberley several times, but each time the phone was answered by a female with a strong Bajan accent who informed him politely that Kimberley was not available. Finally when he called at half past six in the evening Kimberley answered the phone herself, her voice turning frosty as soon as she recognized his voice. “What happened last night?” he asked, too impatient to make small talk.

“Why don’t you tell me, Kevin?” she snapped in response. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “You slipped something into my drink, you bastard!” “What? Wait a minute—” “I don’t have time. ‘Bye.” She slammed the receiver down so violently it hurt his eardrums.

***

Kimberley was so angry if Kevin appeared in front of her now she would punch his lights out! It was bad enough that he had spiked her drink. But now her father was on the warpath and she couldn’t convince him that she hadn’t been drunk or high on drugs. She would have never let things get out of hand at Kevin’s hotel the previous day if she hadn’t given it serious thought and decided that it was what she wanted. Leaving him unsatisfied had been the last thing on her mind. Hell, she had even purchased a large pack of condoms in case he didn’t have any! And it hadn’t been because she’d found her release that she’d become selfish and denied him his. But in the aftermath of that shocking, earth-shattering orgasm, she had felt cheap, appalled at herself for sharing that kind of intimacy with a man clearly on the rebound. A man who had confessed that he was still in love with his wife and hoping that they could mend the broken pieces of their marriage. It had been like someone throwing a bucket of freezing water over Kimberley. Now, she was glad that she had stopped it before full consummation or she would have never known the dark side of his character. He had probably thought that she was nothing but a tease and had decided to get her one way or the other. Every time she thought of how she had let him caress her so intimately she

burned with embarrassment. She wanted to die of shame when she ed the way she had greedily lifted her hips to meet his fingers. The way she had foolishly gasped his name twice, or even three times as she went through the throes of her release! Lord, take me now! she groaned, covering her face in mortification. She had always wondered if she could have a one-night stand. The answer she discovered to her cost was a resounding no! Worst still she acknowledged with deep shame was the fact that her response hadn’t been just because it was a long time since she had last made love. Kevin’s expert touch had pressed buttons of which she had been unaware and his lips.... Enough! Would she ever be able to trust a man again? She had misjudged Kevin so completely, her judgement must be seriously flawed. He had seemed a sophisticated man, in control of himself and his emotions. He had never touched her inappropriately even when they’d been alone in her car. Or in his room. She had been the one to start things off the previous day. Kimberley groaned again at her stupidity. But how could she have known? He had looked at her body with appreciative, complimentary glances, not the lustful leers that some men subjected her to. His gaze had made her feel glad to be a woman. He had lulled her into a false sense of security. Luckily Marcus, realizing that something was not right with her, had immediately called her father, apprised him of the situation and offered to bring her home safely. But her father had thanked him and said that he would summon his bodyguard, Leonard, and send him to the club immediately. Leonard, moonlighting as a bodyguard for a minor celebrity visiting from New York, had been only minutes away. He had picked up Kimberley, delivered her home safely and been back again without the client missing him. Kimberley’s father had always been against her going to clubs. As a teenager

she hadn’t been allowed to go out and party with her friends and even when she started university, it had remained an issue as she’d still lived with her parents. She’d partied every weekend when she’d moved to her own home, partly because she finally had the freedom to do so, but mostly because she totally enjoyed it. When she’d met Brenda it had been the icing on the cake to meet someone her age who enjoyed clubbing as much as she did. When she’d been forced to move back home her father had shown his displeasure each time she had gotten dressed to go partying on the weekend. But finally he had come to accept that she was an adult, and that she didn’t drink too much or take unnecessary risks. Now he would be as unmoveable as a mountain and though he didn’t have the right to stop her, she couldn’t go clubbing and blithely enjoy herself, knowing that he was sitting at home worrying about her. And clubbing would never be the same again for her anyway. She had thought herself knowledgeable and street-smart when it came to her safety. She never drank more than two alcoholic drinks, never left her unfinished drink unattended. Brenda or the female bartender at After Dark Nightclub were the only people that she trusted to mind her drink for her. But Kevin with his impeccable English...no British manners had slipped under her wall of defence. She had thought to put her drink behind the bar as usual, but she hadn’t wanted to offend him. Big mistake!

***

You slipped something into my drink, you bastard! Kevin replayed the words in his head as he waited for the pain in his eardrum to subside. She was accusing him? Seething with fury he grabbed his wallet and took a taxi to her parents’ home as

the fully implication of her words sunk in. The security guard had it seemed been given instruction to deny him entry. Trying to give the older man the slip would be futile, Kevin noted in resignation, he couldn’t outrun the two large Doberman Pinchers lying deceptively still on the lawn between the gate and the front door of the house. Wearily he got back into the taxi and instructed the driver to take him back to the hotel. Lying on the bed half an hour later Kevin was surprised how much it hurt that Kimberley would accuse him of pulling the kind of trick practised by men he thought were the scum of the earth. If he had to resort to date-rape drugs to get a woman into his bed, he’d give up sex altogether. It simply wasn’t his style. Any woman he made love to had to be fully conscious, able to respond to, and appreciate his caresses. If she was out cold what would be the point? He’d thought that Kimberley had gotten to know him in the short time they’d spent together. He had told her things about his personal life he wouldn’t have even shared with his sisters and he was very close to them. How could she think that he couldn’t control his sexual urges. He, who let her leave earlier that day when he’d had an erection that felt the size of the Eiffel Tower? Did she think that he was some little boy who had no idea how to take care of his own needs?

***

That evening Kevin went back to the After Dark Nightclub determined not to leave until he found out how Kimberley’s drink was spiked. He knew he wasn’t guilty, so someone else had to be. The friendly female bartender smiled at him as he approached, inquiring if Kimberley was alright and if she would be ing him later. Briefly he explained his suspicion that someone had tampered with Kimberley’s drink and

the young woman gasped in shock. She denied seeing anything untoward, served him a beer and moved to serve an older woman who was impatiently tapping her long false nails against the wooden surface of the bar. Kevin finished his beer, looking around for any faces he recognized from the previous night or anyone who looked shady or suspicious. It was an impossible task. He had been so wrapped up in Kimberley he had seen no one but her. He signalled for another beer and as the bartender placed it in front of him, she listed the only people who could have touched Kimberley’s drink: she, herself; Kevin, when Kimberley had gone to the ladies or Sonia when Kevin and Kimberley had gone back to the dance floor for that second session of soul. She said that she had been surprised when Kimberley had left her drink first with Kevin and then Sonia because usually she never took chances. “Oh,” she said, seeming to as she moved to serve another customer. “And Marcus.” Kevin took a gulp of beer as he waited for her to get another free moment. Had Sonia left her brother in charge of Kimberley’s drink at some point? But why would Marcus spike Kimberley’s drink, especially when Kevin was with her to see her home safely? The man seem to hate Kevin’s guts. He could understand the man wanting to harm him, but Kimberley? It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense.

***

Kimberley had booked a day’s annual leave the following Monday to take Kevin to the best gift shops on the island to get souvenirs for his sisters and their

families. She’d wanted to spend every minute of the last day with him and then go to the airport to say goodbye. Well kiss goodbye. There was no reason for her not to have cancelled the precious day’s leave and gone to work, especially considering that she had used a large chunk of her entitlement for the trip to the UK, but she didn’t feel up to facing anyone. By ten o’clock she was ready to scream, at herself and her mother who kept asking if she was alright. She was mad at herself for constantly looking at her watch, imagining Kevin going through the ritual of packing his things, doublechecking that he hadn’t left anything before leaving for the airport. She was going to the beach to relax she decided, jumping up suddenly and startling her mother. If she didn’t find something to do she would spend the day staring at the clock imagining Kevin booking in, then going through Customs, then searching for last minute gifts for his sisters and their families and for...Dawn, his wife. She had discovered the soothing quality of tidal waves on her first holiday with her grandmother as a child. No matter how big the problem, lying on the beach with the sound of waves crashing against or gently lapping the shore she always felt comforted.

***

Kevin checked out of the hotel four hours early in a final attempt to see Kimberley before he left the island. Knowing that it would be useless to breach the security at the house, he prayed that she had cancelled her leave. Her empty office mocked him as he made his way over to the mortgage section, but he still felt compelled to ask the question of one of her staff . The woman’s apologetic eyes confirmed Kimberley’s absence before she informed him that she had taken a day’s annual leave. He walked slowly back to the vehicle. He’d known that it was a long shot and that even if she’d been there she may have had him ejected by the bank’s

security guards, but if she’d given him just two minutes of her time he would have been able to convince her of his innocence. The check-in desk was open although it was hours before his flight departed. None of his fellow engers—they were probably too busy enjoying the last of sunshine—had turned up yet. Kevin walked up to the desk and checked in his luggage. After a last look around, he went through Immigration Control and then straight on to the departure lounge. He only had three hours before his flight left for London. One hundred and eighty minutes to kill. After Kimberley had left his hotel room on Saturday, Kevin had visualized their parting here today. He had imagined kissing her in desperation and with some regret as it would be the last time if he and Dawn reconciled. She had seemed so sad on the patio at the thought of him being in the UK miles away, he had wondered if she would cry when they said their final goodbyes. What a waste of time all that visualizing, imagining and wondering. Reality couldn’t be in more stark contrast. ing thankfully that he had gifts still to buy, Kevin headed for the dutyfree shops. He bought his sisters a large jar each of the moisturizer they swore worked wonders, perfume for their four older daughters, and a doll for his eleven-year-old niece. He had already ordered a model plane set for his nephew, a box of Cuban cigars for his sister Deanne’s husband and a bottle of Johnny Walker Gold Label for Roxanne’s from the airline’s duty-free catalogue. A smiling woman invited him to sample a small wedge of rum cake as he made his way back to the seating area of the departure lounge. It seemed rude to refuse, so he took the smallest piece and to his surprise it melted on his tongue. He bought two each for his sisters and after a moment’s hesitation, another for Dawn. She loved sponge cakes. He bought two packets of guava cheese from another shop for his youngest niece, Shauntay. He would have to sneak them past his sister Deanne. If she caught him she would strangle him because Shauntay had a sweet tooth and was

becoming a little rounder each day. Personally he didn’t think that weight would be a problem for her once she ed adolescence, but all four of the other girls had grown up coltishly slender and with the increase in childhood obesity his sister was concerned. She was trying to keep her daughter’s weight in check without seeming to make an issue of it, so she had banned Kevin from bringing sweets to the house. He had adhered to the ban taking baskets of fruits instead, but guava cheese was a special treat. He had been first offered a piece of the sweet on holiday in Guyana as a teenager. Expecting a cheesy taste as the name suggested, he’d bitten into the soft, sticky brown square and it had instantly become his favourite sweet, bursting with the flavour of guavas and with a delicately grainy texture. As he took an empty seat near to a smiling, tanned, elderly English couple, who had clearly spent their holiday worshipping the sun, he looked at his watch. Still over an hour before his flight left for the UK. He was on his feet walking over to a payphone before he had given it thought. He dialled Kimberley’s number and the same woman, a maid he assumed, who had answered when he had called previously, informed him that Kimberley was out for the day. Leaving a message to say that he’d called, he hung up. It had been worth a last shot. He thought of the unselfish way she had taken time out of her busy schedule to show him around—very few people would have done that. Being with her had made him completely forget his troubles in the UK. And made him realize that the world wouldn’t end if he and Dawn divorced.

Chapter Six

Kimberley lay on her stomach on a brightly coloured beach towel, shutting out the sound of the people frolicking on the beach around her as she thought of the train wreck her love life had been to date. She was back where it had started. The very place she’d met her first boyfriend, Ronald. She had watched him emerge from the sea, his lean bronzed body honed to perfection, his thick mane of dreadlocks dyed a golden brown. The overall effect had stunned her. He’d looked like a lion in its prime. She had watched in awe as he’d sauntered towards her, shaking his locks to rid them of excess water, and she had been caught hook, line and sinker. The beach had been swarming with tourists, many of them women, and they had all seemed as mesmerized. As he went past her he’d suddenly notice her. Even now she could recall the way her breath had caught in her throat as he’d smiled and closed the short distance between them. “Ms Collins?” His voice, accented with an American twang, had sounded unsure, but he’d known exactly who she was. “Kimberley,” she’d replied, holding out her hand. “My pleasure.” The words banal enough, had been said in a way to suggest that he had indeed derived pleasure from meeting her. With an inclination of his head he’d walked away, taking her heart with him. He had been in a word, or three, absolutely drop-dead gorgeous! The next day she’d returned to the same spot on the beach, desperate to catch a glimpse of his handsome face again. She hadn’t seen him at first, but just as she’d given up looking she’d noticed him lying on a beach towel. A woman, a recently-arrived tourist if her strawberries-and-cream complexion was anything to go by, had been lying on a separate towel a foot or so away. Ronald had sat up, grabbed his towel and sauntered over to Kimberley as soon as he’d noticed her. She’d never given that woman another thought until later in the relationship. It had been a vital clue to Ronald’s character, but she’d been so blinded by his

good looks she had dismissed crucial evidence. Kimberley had just moved to her own house and freedom had been as heady as the home-made jamun wine she used to make at her grandmother’s house when she was a child. The ripe fruit was very sweet and it had been tempting to eat them all when her grandmother picked several bunches for her. But adding sugar, the first stage of the wine making process, made them even sweeter and increased the temptation to eat them, but sealing the sugared fruit in a glass jar and leaving it overnight produced a young wine that was even sweeter and ever so slightly alcoholic. The wine became stronger each day, but Kimberley had never tasted it at full potency because it tasted so lovely she always finished it well before the end of the first week. Ronald hadn’t been the kind of young man her father would have allowed under his roof, and that had made him even more exciting. He’d spent a lot of his free time with her but occasionally he had gone to sell his canvases to tourists on the beach. Though she’d loved him Kimberley had secretly thought his paintings too abstract to be art. He had used her financially, but she hadn’t minded. If they were going to a venue where an entrance fee was required, he met her inside so he paid only his fee. He claimed that as a Rasta man, he shouldn’t indulge in drinking spirits but didn’t refuse when she offered to buy. He’d eaten at her house almost every day but never once brought so much as a mango. And he had eaten every kind of meat, including pork which no Jah-fearing Rastafarian would do. On her birthday he had taken her to an expensive restaurant for dinner and had conveniently forgotten his wallet when he called for the bill. Yet, as he had kissed her outside the restaurant when she’d arrived by taxi—he had made his own way there—she had felt his wallet pressed against her hip. She had paid for the meal, happy that he’d at least made the effort. He always borrowed money from her, insignificant amounts that she’d hardly missed, but he never repaid the loans. When they’d made love he’d been furious that she insisted on him using protection. She’d felt terrible when he’d accused her of not trusting him. Later, she’d been amazed that he could have pulled off the genuine expression of hurt knowing how much he slept around. The man should have been an actor.

On a whim, she had gone down to the beach for a swim one day a little earlier than usual and had found him with another tourist—entwined on a beach towel. The older woman, in mid- to late-forties, had either sensed Kimberley’s presence or had notice the sudden loss of warmth as Kimberley stood over them blocking the sun. One look at Kimberley’s thunderous face and the woman had pushed Ronald away from her and sat up, pulling the cup of her bikini top back in place. As he’d turned Kimberley had leaned over and slapped him hard. She’d walked away, head held high, but feeling smaller than the grains of sand beneath her feet. Ronald had deliberately cultivated his good looks to appeal to women who came looking for holiday romances, and were happy to pay for them. His lion’s mane and rippling muscles were enough to make them swoon. Savvy Barbadian women recognized his type a mile off, but Kimberley hadn’t been street smart. Two weeks later she came home from work to find that she’d been burgled. All her jewellery, her entire CD collection and the emergency money she’d kept under her mattress had been taken—all the hallmarks of an inside job. The fact that she had only recently split up with Ronald had made him prime suspect. But she hadn’t reported him; she couldn’t have done that to a man she had once loved. After the burglary, feeling suddenly vulnerable, she’d spent so much time at her parents’ home that her father had suggested she move back home. She’d made a show of considering his proposal, but had agreed so quickly she’d fooled neither parent.

***

Sherwin, her second boyfriend, had been a work colleague at the bank. He couldn’t have competed with Ronald for looks or personality but after the disaster of that relationship Kimberley felt safer dating a ‘regular’ guy, one who worked for a living and didn’t seem to have an artistic bone in his body, abstract or otherwise. He hadn’t been ugly enough to scare small children, but as her grandmother had commented with her usual frankness the first time she had met him, he was certainly no ‘oil painting’.

Kimberley had been reluctant to introduce him to her parents, sensing that the two of them weren’t going to have a long-term relationship. Ronald, though a cad, had been exciting and slightly edgy; Sherwin was boring, predicable and too sweet for his own good. He’d kept asking to be introduced to her parents and the more he’d asked the more she’d resisted the idea. Her parents weren’t the kind to whom you introduced casual boyfriends. And usually it was the woman who made a fuss about wanting to meet parents. Finally one Sunday evening, four months after they’d started dating, Sherwin had driven up to her parents’ home uninvited. Kimberley had been forced, grudgingly, to make the introductions and he had almost stepped over her in his haste to shake her father’s hand. She had been hesitant to sleep with him. Office romances were never a good idea and though they had worked in different sections of the bank a bad break-up would have adversely affected their working relationship. He had tried to get her into bed on their first date, and had persisted—until he’d met her father. Then he’d decided that they should wait until they got married. Heaven knew where he had gotten the idea she’d wanted to marry him! Instead of feeling relieved at not having to endure his constant begging, please, please, you know I love you, baby, please, his decision to wait had annoyed Kimberley. Pissed her off, in fact. Things had come to a head one Saturday evening. Kimberley had spent the greater part of an hour getting ready for a Jolly Roger Party Cruise. She had been looking and feeling good. Sherwin who had arrived early, as usual, had been playing a game of snooker with her father in the den. Expecting him to drop cue and balls, or whatever, he had instead asked her if she minded not going, he felt like staying and playing a few games with her father. Kimberley had told him she didn’t mind him not going and had calmly picked up her car keys and driven first over to pick up Brenda as planned. They hadn’t officially broken up, just simply stopped dating. Months later he’d left the bank for a junior position in her father’s office. She hadn’t been surprised. After all he’d been more interested in her father than he’d been in her.

***

David, had made a fortune deg websites when there had been few experts in the field. He had an artistic eye and his websites were eye-catching as well as functional. He had a house in one of the most exclusive areas in Barbados and was one of the few people in Barbados who owned a Ferrari. They had met Fish Pot. She had noticed him constantly looking over at the table where she and Brenda had been unashamedly tucking into dinner, fuelling up before hitting the dance floor that night. While they awaited dessert he had come over and introduced himself. Fourteen years her senior, he had looked ten years younger than his true age. He had studied computing in Canada and had been headhunted by a prestigious firm in the final year of his degree. After working for them for six years he had started his own company. Within two weeks of their first date he’d begun subtly hinting that she would look even more fabulous if she’d lost about ten pounds. He’d said that it would highlight her beautiful bone structure. She had thanked him for the backhanded compliment, but ignored his advice—her mother had been telling her the same thing for years and she had been ignored as well. Kimberley loved her figure and wasn’t prepared to change it for anyone. Then, tired of having to pull back her thick, heavy hair all the time she’d trimmed about eight inches off. The new hairstyle had been easier to manage and much cooler. David had almost had an apoplectic fit when he first saw it. He belonged to the school that thought long hair equalled beauty. When she’d introduced him to her father, he hadn’t behaved as badly as Sherwin, but his deference had been just as irritating. David had been successfully self-employed for over eleven years and shouldn’t have needed her father’s guidance, but suddenly he couldn’t seem to make a single business decision without first consulting her father. Her parents had absolutely loved him. Kimberley would come home to find him helping her mother in the garden or having a drink with her father in the den. It had been almost like having the brother she had never missed having. And there were aspects of his personality which had made Kimberley uneasy.

Comments about someone’s big nose or hard hair had grated on her nerves, but she had let them slide. Until they had attended a beauty pageant just before Crop Over Festival. They’d had tickets and had been sitting with an excellent view of the stage when the twelve contestants paraded their swimwear. Kimberley had been thinking that the judges would have a tough job choosing a winner when David had made a comment that had stunned her. “She shouldn’t be up there with those other girls. She’s too black,” he’d sneered. The contestant to whom he’d been referring was almost exactly the same shade as Kimberley, and more surprisingly about a shade or two lighter than David himself. “Too black?” Kimberley had repeated thinking that she couldn’t have possibly heard him correctly. “The girl is almost as black as me,” he had continued, making the word ‘black’ sound like something dirty. Afterwards Kimberley marvelled at herself for staying to the end of the pageant. And even more for not throwing David the sucker punch he’d deserved. Kimberley was darker complexioned than both her parents, inheriting her gleaming chocolate skin from her paternal grandfather whose dark good looks had been legendary. He’d been a real ladies’ man, rumoured to have a ‘sweetwoman’ or mistress, in every parish. Her grandmother had stuck with him through thick and thin and when he had fallen ill three years ago, she had lovingly taken care of him until he’d quietly ed away one night in his sleep. David had often commented that he couldn’t get over how much darker she was than both her mother and her father. He had made little comments from time to time about skin tone, but Kimberley hadn’t been particularly troubled by them, since he was also dark-skinned. The young lady placing as first runner-up had been a small consolation. Kimberley had exited the venue and headed straight for a taxi, ordering the man to drive away immediately. She had left David, hands raised in puzzlement, staring after her. Minutes later he had called her cellular and she had given vent to her rage, telling him in no uncertain that she never wanted to see him again.

He’d made little comments and done odd things before, but that night he had pushed her too far. On their first trip to the beach he’d made a fuss when she had lain back and soaked up the sun. The next time he had brought a huge parasol along. When she had asked him to close it he had mumbled about it being more for her benefit than his. When he had seen her going for a walk at lunchtime, as she sometimes did to clear her head, he had pulled his car over and berated her for not opening an umbrella in the fierce heat. On both occasions she had been puzzled by his desire to protect her from the sun. It had never occurred to her that the reason had been because he hadn’t wanted her to become darker. Kimberley was comfortable in her skin and felt sorry for anyone who wasn’t. Black people came in all shades and each shade was a cause for celebration. She certainly did not subscribe to the notion that people with lighter complexions were better looking than their darker counterparts. Every time she had seen David since she’d dumped him he’d had an ultra-slim, light-complexioned woman on his arm, obviously his idea of the ideal woman. She had no problem with him preferring lighter-skinned women. That was, after all, his prerogative but she’d always wondered if he hadn’t noticed her chocolate skin and her curves before he had come over to introduce himself? Perhaps she had been acceptable because she was Minister Collins’s daughter. Thank God she hadn’t let him erode her self-confidence with his subtle but obviously deeply-felt comments about body size and skin tone. She felt sorry for him—it must be hell living in skin he despised. As a child she had been one of Michael Jackson’s biggest fans and had spent hours learning to moonwalk. As she’d grown older, she had looked at him with adult eyes she’d realized that even allowing for the possibility of him having vitiligo and not bleaching his skin as the media suggested, there was no escaping his deliberate obliteration of his Black features. He’d had all the money in the world and yet he seemed to have wanted the one thing money couldn’t buy—to be white. The thought had always made Kimberley sad

***

With Kevin she’d felt amazingly comfortable. The soft curves of her body had fitted the hard planes of his as if they were created for exactly that purpose. She’d always felt tough enough to defend herself against attack. In previous relationship she had even felt that she might have been the one defending her man in a tight situation. Kevin had made her feel ridiculously safe. She wasn’t a girlie girl. She hated the very idea of being one, yet Kevin had made her feel absurdly girlish and to her shame she had loved it! He had seemed so mature, so open and honest, so unafraid to show his feeling for Dawn. And for Anthony. They had hurt him deeply and Kimberley had ired him immensely for itting it. That night as he had bared his soul, Kimberley had barely been able to hold back her tears. And a man who had loved that deeply could love just as deeply again, she had thought on her way home. In her more fanciful moments she had imagined herself married to him, having a son or a daughter to fill the void Kareem had left, bringing joy into his life again. A reluctant smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she ed the flowers. She was still being teased mercilessly at the office. But now he had spoiled that memory too. She had pushed him, perhaps beyond his endurance as he’d been celibate for almost a year, but that couldn’t justify his actions. Nothing could.

Chapter Seven

Kevin watched Barbados move out of focus through the airplane window as it continued its ascent, and was filled with bitter-sweet memories of Kimberley and the days he’d spent on the island. Then settling more comfortably in the roomy seat, he consciously switched his thoughts to matters in the UK as the plane reached cruising altitude. The trip had provided the clarity he needed. Though he hadn’t spent much time dwelling on the situation which he would have to face up to on his return, an acceptance of the inevitable had crept insidiously into his mind. He arrived in the early hours of the morning, quickly cleared customs and caught a taxi home. As he entered his front door he was struck by the horrible realization that he had forgotten to clear his fridge of perishables. He opened the fridge door cautiously, expecting a foul odour to hit him. Instead, one of his sisters, Deanne, he suspected, had restocked the fridge and had even left him split peas cook-up, his favourite Guyanese food with several pieces of homemade fried chicken in a Pyrex dish. She would have come to the airport to pick him up if he’d given her his flight details, so he had been deliberately vague. At the best of times she fussed over him like a mother hen; the situation with Dawn and Anthony had made her even more concerned for his welfare. His mother had given birth to him when she was thirty-seven, fourteen years after she’d had her first child, Deanne. When his father had been offered a substantial early retirement package from BT, his parents had returned to Guyana, leaving sixteen-year old Kevin in the care of his older sister. His mother had been reluctant at first, insisting that she should stay at least until he started university, but Deanne had convinced her that she was capable of looking after her younger brother. Deanne had been stricter than his parents and in the first six months she and Kevin had had many heated arguments. She had dared to give him a curfew and there had been hell to pay whenever he’d broken it. The first and only time he’d tried marijuana she’d taken one look at his reddened eyes and had known immediately. She’d watched him wolf down an unusually large portion of food and had said nothing when he had retired to his room. She had looked cool and composed the next morning as he’d shared breakfast

with her husband and her two young daughters. Later, he had gone to the cinema with Anthony to see a Spike Lee movie and had returned almost a quarter of an hour before his curfew. He had been listening to music when she’d rapped on the door. After he had turned the volume down, she’d sat on his bed and handed him a leaflet on drug abuse she had brought home from University College Hospital where she worked as an . She had put her arms around him and held him for a long time without saying anything and then had quietly left his room. If she had given him a lecture or forbidden him the use of marijuana he would have defied her, but there was something in her expression of disappointment and quiet concern that had completely undone him. That night he’d cried for the last time, until Kareem’s funeral.

***

His sisters both accused him of a lack of manners when he called to let them know he had returned to the UK safely. He understood their displeasure; they were a close family and in other circumstances he would have rung them at least a couple of times from whatever location he was holidaying, but his need to push Dawn and Anthony out of his mind had necessitated pushing everyone and everything that would remind him of them out of his mind too. After a shower and a generous portion of Deanne’s food, he wrote a letter to Kimberley, addressing it to the bank since he didn’t have her home address. He marked it ‘Private and Confidential’, but nevertheless kept the contents impersonal. He called Fedex and arranged for it to be picked up later that day. Then taking a deep breath and exhaling it slowly, he reached for the phone handset and punched a pre-programmed number. “Anthony Brisbane.” From the cool reserve in the man’s voice Kevin knew that his friend had noted the phone number displayed on his receiver before answering the call.

“Can we meet at Turner’s tonight? Eight o’clock?” “Sure.” Kevin arrived five minutes earlier than the agreed time and was sitting at the bar drinking a bottle of Guinness when Anthony walked in. As the man glanced around the crowded sports bar looking for him, Kevin tried to look at him with disionate eyes. Tried to see what the man could possibly have that he didn’t. Anthony was slightly shorter than Kevin, but his shoulders filled the jacket of his dark suit like a welterweight boxer. Whenever they walked into a room together women stared; they were both tall, good-looking Black men who exuded success from every pore. Kevin’s features were more symmetrical and pleasing to the eye, but Anthony’s unexpected amber eyes which contrasted sharply with his dark skin, drew an equal amount of irers. Kevin ordered another bottle of Guinness and the bartender placed it on the bar just as Anthony took a seat next to him. Anthony took a mouthful of the drink before he turned and faced his best friend of almost twenty seven years. They sat staring at each other for about two minutes, the silent battle of wills finally broken when Kevin asked bitterly, “Women don’t know what they want, do they?” Surprised at the rage begging to be unleashed he continued, “She wants to leave me for a player like you?” “My player days are over. I love her. I would never hurt her.” Anthony’s gaze didn’t waver as he said the words and Kevin felt like punching the man again, harder enough this time to knock his head off his body. “I’ve loved her from the first time I saw her in French class, but once—” “What?” Kevin’s voice rose despite his best intentions. “You’ve been lusting after her all these years?” Kevin and Anthony had met Dawn on her very first day at the secondary school. They had watched amused as she rode her gleaming, obviously brand-new bicycle unsteadily through the gate, wearing a safety helmet and elbow and knee pads. Mistakenly assuming that she was one of the dozens of eleven- or twelveyear-old new starters because of her small stature, they had grabbed their rucksacks, leaving their bikes unlocked as she carefully double locked hers.

Kevin had had Technical Drawing and Anthony French for the first period, so they had split up and headed in different directions after first going to their lockers on entering the massive three-storey school building. When Anthony had ed Kevin for Geography the next period, he had excitedly told him about the new girl he had met in his French class. Kevin had been amused when Anthony told him that she was the same girl they had seen earlier locking her bike as though it was a professional racing bike that cost thousands of pounds—he couldn’t imagine his friend and the nervous-looking girl together. As they’d made their way to the science lab for Physics, Anthony was almost buzzing with excitement. The girl would be there since the entire year shared Science lessons. Kevin hadn’t been particularly interested himself. From what he ed the girl was short and wore glasses. More importantly he hadn’t seen any breasts. “There she is,” Anthony had whispered, dragging Kevin with him to sit at one of the work stations in the front of the class. Intending to wrench himself free and go to his usual seat at the back, Kevin had taken a closer look at Dawn and almost in a daze, he’d muscled Anthony out of the way and had taken the seat near to her himself. At the end of the double period he had carried her rucksack as they had headed for lunch. Later that day he had felt a twinge of guilt as his best friend had ridden silently beside him on their way home, but he’d known that Anthony would get over his infatuation. And he had been right. By the next day Anthony had been his usual self and it wasn’t long before they had been going on double dates, with Anthony dating a different girl almost every time. Anthony had been best man at Kevin’s wedding and Kareem’s godfather. And had, Kevin thought, always treated Dawn like a sister.

***

Trying not to speak in case the words came out in a roar, Kevin gulped the remainder of his drink and signalled for another. He needed something to occupy his hands before he wrapped them around his friend’s thick neck and squeezed the life out of him. He had come to the bar to forge some form of reconciliation. Now the man had dropped another bombshell. “Kevin, you knew I liked her.” Anthony’s voice was full of accusation and hurt, as if Kevin had stolen Dawn from him yesterday instead of fifteen years ago. “You knew that I liked her, but you stepped up to her anyway.” “So, what is this—some kind of schoolboy revenge?” Kevin asked scornfully. “I realized that you liked her too, so I stepped back,” Anthony continued, ignoring Kevin’s question. “But you never once apologized to me. You never once acknowledged that I was the one who saw her first. That hurt, man.” “So you’ve spent all these years waiting for a chance to hurt me back? Is that it?” “The day you married Dawn, I considered her out of my reach and moved on.” Anthony looked Kevin straight in the eye. “I loved Kareem like he was my own son. You and Dawn have always been my best friends.” “Some fucking best friend you turned out to be.” Anthony flinched but didn’t look away. “Contrary to what you seem to think,” he said quietly. “Dawn and I have not slept together.” Yes! Kevin felt like punching the air with his fist, but Anthony’s next words punctured the joy before it had a chance to balloon inside him. “Kevin, if there was a chance you and Dawn would get back together, I would step off.” “There’s every chance that we will get back together—whether you step off or not!”

“There’s little or no chance of that.” Anthony got off the high stool. “If you think that I would deliberately hurt you—you really don’t know me at all.” He turned and strode rapidly away, leaving his half-finished bottle of Guinness on the bar. Kevin felt chilled as he stared at his friend’s broad, retreating back. He had never thought that Anthony would lie to him but the man must have lied tonight, or in the office that day. If he and Dawn hadn’t slept together then why would she want a divorce? ...little or no chance of that. Anthony’s words came back to Kevin as he navigated the quiet streets on auto pilot. There had been a finality in those words, a hidden meaning that Kevin couldn’t grasp. He had to find out what it was soon. Tonight. He dialled Dawn’s number on the hands-free set. “Hello!” Her soft voice sounded hesitant. “Hi. It’s me.” There was no response from the other end of the line so he added, “Kevin.” “I know it’s you.” Of course, she would—she had caller ID. “I need to see you.” “Tonight?” “If it’s okay with you.” It was almost half past nine, but he didn’t want to spend the night tossing and turning as his imagination went into overdrive. “Sure.” Her voice belied her answer but it didn’t matter. “I’ll see you in about forty minutes.” Kevin hoped that he wouldn’t be stopped by the police; a Black man in a powerful sports car was always a target for them. He hadn’t finished his second bottle of Guinness, but he would have had opted for tomato juice if he had known his conversation with Anthony would have resulted in a trip across

London. He’d been pulled over more times than he could count in the past. But things had recently improved following a public outcry when a prominent footballer had been stopped and subjected to an embarrassing half an hour of questioning. The man’s face was always plastered over the sports pages. Anyone, even bigoted policemen, should have recognized him instantly and known that the Hummer he was driving was more likely to be his than stolen. The two policemen had treated him like a teenage boy had been suspended pending investigation. They probably wouldn’t get anything more serious than rapped knuckles for their blatantly racist behaviour, but it would make other colleagues think twice in future. As he drove through the narrow London streets, Kevin ed the times that he and Anthony had taken turns in being the designated driver on nights out. Deanne’s husband had taught them both to drive and at eighteen they had both ed their driving tests—Anthony on his first attempt, and Kevin on his second because he had unwittingly done 32 mph. in a 30 mph zone on the first occasion. A minor offence he’d thought, but the stern-faced woman who had been testing him hadn’t been amused. By then Anthony’s mother had divorced his father and refused any financial assistance from him. She had found out that he had secretly lived with another woman in a second home for seven years and fathered two illegitimate sons. Deanne had bought Kevin a good second-hand Volkswagen Golf and insured it for use by Anthony as well, knowing that neither Anthony nor his mother could afford it. The cost of insuring two young male drivers who’d just ed their tests had been astronomical, but Deanna had treated Anthony like a son. Kevin had watched his friend fight back tears that day when Deanne had told him that she was insuring him to use the car too. She had insisted though that they took turns in being the designated driver and that whoever was driving didn’t drink. What was the point, they had argued, of partying with a friend if you had to stay sober while you watched him drink and vice versa? Deanne had said it was what she and his other sister, Roxanne a year her junior, had done when they were younger and had found it very effective. Kevin had argued that they were female and had needed to take extra precaution. Deanne had responded, male or female, someone driving under the influence was committing a serious felony and then she had ended the discussion as only she could: by saying that neither was likely to survive, though they were male, if one of them wrapped the car around a tree.

Even before Dawn and Kevin had married his family had all adored her. This wasn’t simply a love triangle between him, Dawn and Anthony, he acknowledged as he turned on to Dawn’s driveway. If they couldn’t resolve this issue amicably the resulting pain would ripple outwards to their families and friends. He was already feeling the loss of camaraderie with Dawn’s brothers. Deanna and Roxanne were both furious with Dawn for wanting a divorce. Kevin hadn’t told them about Anthony, yet. That he would mention if and only when he had to. Deanna would take the betrayal hard. For her it would be like choosing between sons, but Kevin knew her well. She would harden her heart and choose with her head—given a choice between blood and water, she would choose the thicker.

***

Dawn opened the door as Kevin reached out to press the buzzer; she must have been looking out for him. “Hi. Come in.” She backed away to let him in and he noted that she had lost weight—precious pounds that she could ill afford to lose. But rather than make her look gaunt, the weight loss gave her a desperate fragility, as if just one more worry and she would disappear altogether. “How have you been?” he asked, worried. “Fine, thank you.” Her eyes flickered downwards to the duty-free bag in his hand. “I brought you a little something from Barbados.” He handed her the carrier bag that contained the rum cake and a large bottle of her favourite perfume. After buying the cake he had returned to the perfume shop. The fragrance was expensive and well worth buying at the duty-free price. “Thank you.” Dawn opened the bag and peered at its contents, her eyes widening when she saw the oversized bottle of perfume. She glanced up at him

quickly, her eyes searching his face. He knew that she must be wondering if he was trying to win her back. With a sinking heart he realized that she seemed worried at the prospect. “I saw Anthony tonight,” Kevin said quietly. “I know...he called me.” They were standing awkwardly in her small hallway like strangers who had just met. “Do you mind if we sat down and talked?” he suggested. “Sure, come inside.” She reached for the handle of the door of her living room and preceded him into the sparsely but elegantly furnished room. She sat in one of the two armchairs, deliberately it seemed, not wanting the intimacy of sharing the two-seater couch with him. He sat on it anyway as it was nearer to her chair. Conversation was stilted at first. She asked him about his holiday and they talked a little about her job and her therapy sessions. “Kevin, I felt so alone the first week I moved here,” she itted suddenly, plucking several tissues from the open box on the coffee table beside her chair. The action was so unconsciously smooth it spoke of a frequency that tore at Kevin’s heart. “I didn’t realize that I’d miss you so much. It took all my willpower not to call you and beg you to come over, but the therapist had warned me that I would never heal if I didn’t take the time I needed away from you. But I was desperate. I begged Anhony. He came and we talked until morning. He made me laugh so much my sides hurt the next day, but it was the first time I didn’t miss you...the first time I felt happy since I lost my b-baby.” The words triggered the tears she had been valiantly widening her eyes to hold back. She slumped forwards, burying her face in her hands. Kevin quickly left his chair and crouched in front of hers, stroking her back soothingly. “Honey, I didn’t come here to upset you. I just wanted to ensure that you are happy and to tell you face-to-face that I will accept whatever decision you make.” Dawn straightened and smiled wanly at him. “You are such a loving man—this

is what makes hurting you so hard. I will never stop loving you but Kareem’s death... Every night I used to go to bed thinking that I would feel better in the morning and each day I woke up feeling like I’d taken a step closer to insanity. Anthony’s the only person who makes me... Please don’t hate him, Kevin. Before this he never did anything to make me think that he was in love with me.” Her eyes shifted away from his as she continued. “Being around him is like being with you...without the sadness and guilt.” The sudden painful cramp in his left leg was a welcome relief as her words sunk in. It reminded him that even the most intense pain can fade or soften with time. He hadn’t imagined ever feeling anything but sorrow when Kareem had died, but he had survived—a huge piece of his heart buried with his son, but just enough of it remaining to pump the blood around his body. Letting Dawn go would take an equal chunk. Reaching for her hand, he pulled her to her feet as he straightened. She stood stiffly in his embrace as he wrapped his arms around her before relaxing and encircling his waist with her arms. He held her silently for a long time, knowing that this was the end of their relationship. He loved her, but sometimes, it seemed, love was not enough. He raised his head and their eyes held for a moment of shared lost and despair. Or perhaps love was sometimes too much. “If Anthony makes you happy I won’t stand in the way. I’ll get over it—just give me some time to get used to the idea.” He bent to kiss her goodbye. Surprised at the emotions churning inside him he turned and moved swiftly towards the front door. But as he reached the door he turned to face her and asked, “Shall I call Jerry or do you want to?” “Jerry?” Dawn’s forehead creased in puzzlement. “Springer. We could be contestants on the next ‘I Left My Husband for His Best Friend Show’.” “Kevin!” Dawn’s eyes widened, looking shocked that he could make a joke at this moment. And then she burst into laughter as he knew she would. She hated the show and always said that if she ever appeared on it he had her permission to shoot her as it would be an indication that she had gone stark raving mad and needed to be put out of her misery. “Goodnight, Dawn.”

“Goodnight, Kevin.” Her eyes still held laughter and he was pleased that he had lightened the atmosphere as he took his leave of her. It had been so long since he had seen her happy, he had almost forgotten that before Kareem’s death she had laughed at the silliest things. Anthony’s the only person who makes me... Happy? Dawn hadn’t finished her sentence, but that must have been what she’d meant to say. She had lived a very sheltered life before she married Kevin. He hoped she knew what she was getting into with Anthony. But even as the words ran through his mind Kevin knew that he was being unfair. Even though Anthony had changed women often, he’d never dated two at the same time and most of them remained friends with him afterwards. And he treated his mother like she was a queen. He never forgot that she had worked hard, refusing the benefit payments she had been rightly entitled to on her low wages and with a child to raise, doing sometimes three cleaning jobs all at once to make ends meet. When they were at college, while Kevin was having as much fun as a young man of that age could have without being arrested, Anthony had done as many odd jobs as he could fit around his classes and had given his mother the bulk of his earnings. And yet he had managed to be one of the six students including Kevin who graduated with first class honours. Anthony’s first major purchase once their business had been up and running had been a house for his mother. The years had taken their toll on her—she looked several years older than fifty-three. Anthony encouraged her to spend whatever she wanted on herself, but she always said that she was happy knowing that after all the years of struggle and uncertainty she had a mortgage-free house and enough money to buy the things that she needed. If Anthony was in love with Dawn, Kevin acknowledged grudgingly, he would treat her as he did his mother—like royalty.

***

The next day, sitting in his office for the first time in two weeks, Kevin was soon engrossed. It felt almost like old times, except that Anthony had not once during

the day come to his office to run an idea by him or simply for a chat. Their t PA seemed to sense their discord but displaying the professionalism which had earned her the job over nineteen other applicants, the older woman didn’t comment. But her unease was palpable. For her sake, as well as the health of the business, Kevin popped into Anthony’s office that evening. “Are you and Dawn free for dinner on Saturday?” “Let me check with her.” Watching Anthony dial Dawn’s number and confirm that she was free, Kevin felt like he was in an alternative universe where he had somehow swapped lives or bodies with his business partner. They would go to their favourite Thai restaurant, he decided. He just hoped the waiters wouldn’t be confused seeing Dawn and Anthony together. They shouldn’t be unless, they were all over each other. And they wouldn’t be—not in front of Kevin at any rate. It would be hard to see Dawn leave with Anthony at the end of the evening, but he had to get used to it sometime. It would be like a kick in the groin. It would hurt like hell—but not kill him, hopefully.

Chapter Eight

The phone was ringing as Kevin walked through the door that evening. What now, he wondered. Hadn’t he had enough for one day? That morning he had planned to simply go to the office and get some work done. He had planned to pretend his business partner didn’t exist, yet by the end of the day not only had he acknowledged Anthony’s existence he had invited the man and his wife to him for a meal. He picked up the phone, but remained silent. “Hello?” The phone line amplified Kimberley’s Barbadian accent. Kevin felt his body relax as her warm voice filled his ears. “Kimberley!” “Kevin, it was Marcus!” She blurted out. “How did you find out?” It had been a long, desperate, shot when Kevin had asked her in the letter to question Sonia and make sure that Marcus had not been near her drink that night. “I’m embarrassed that I reacted so—” “Don’t be. Most people would have reacted the same way,” Kevin reassured her. Well, most hot-blooded people, anyway. “I want to hear the details” “I didn’t believe that Marcus could do something like that. I wouldn’t lie, when I questioned Sonia it was more to prove that you were wrong. I was surprised when she itted that while she had been looking after my drink she had spent most of the time turned away looking at people on the dance floor. Then she told me that she thought that Marcus was sweet on me ” “Sweet? It’s more like he was sour on you if you ask me!” Kevin found himself grinding his teeth. “I told you the man was after you!” “I called his cellular and he didn’t take the call.” “And?” Kevin prompted, anxious to hear the full story.

“So I phoned my father and told him. I begged him not to let the police rough him up in case he was innocent. The Inspector is a distant cousin of my mother’s. He picked up Marcus and questioned him personally and Marcus itted that he put a herbal sleeping pill in my drink. All he had wanted to do was get me sleepy, so that I would have to go home early. He overheard you say that you were going back on Monday, so he thought that that Saturday night would be our last time together. He didn’t want me to sleep with you.” “Well, he succeeded—the bastard!” And succeeded in mes the end of Kevin’s perfect holiday. And now that Dawn... “Is he still in the lock up?” he asked, dragging his mind back to matters at hand. “The other prisoners will love that pretty boy.” “Kevin, I’m not going to press—” “You’re going to let that menace walk the street?” “Kevin, he’s only twenty-one! And it wasn’t premeditated. He said he got jealous when he saw us dancing and when out to his car to cool off. He opened his glove compartment for a cigarette and saw the sleeping tablets he had picked up from the chemist for his mother earlier in the day and the idea just came to him.” “A likely story!” “I’m sure that he wouldn’t do something so stupid again. He panicked when he realized how strong the tablet was—that’s why he called my father. It probably wouldn’t have affected me so badly if I hadn’t been tired.” “That was my fault,” Kevin itted. “No it wasn’t. I enjoyed taking you around. And anyway Marcus isn’t getting away scot-free,” she continued. He was warned that the slightest misdemeanour and he would be thrown in jail. If it had been Rhohipnol, or a similar drug he would be in jail right now. He has to keep his nose clean because a police doctor will regularly test him for drugs. I feel a little sorry for him.” “Well, he’ll think twice—

“Oh my God, Kevin, look at the time! This phone call is going to cost me a bomb! I have to go!” Then, her voice changed and he could picture the mischievous smile on her face when she said, “And by the way, I’m coming to the UK!” “When?” “To do my MBA in September. Did you think I meant on the next plane?” He was still laughing when he got off the phone. When one door closes, another opens. The mantra his mother lived by. Maybe she was right. Kimberley in the UK? He couldn’t wait! In the excitement he hadn’t told her about Dawn he realized as he slipped between crisp dark blue cotton sheets later that night. He would tell her the next time and perhaps by then he would have something more concrete. Perhaps by then he would know the date of his divorce. He and Anthony had long talked about the possibility of opening a second office. It was time to pursue that idea. He would start a feasibility study soon. If it produced favourable results he would move office. Somewhere in West London, close enough to the present office, but not too close. Turning, he lightly punched his pillow into a more comfortable position. It wasn’t exactly closing a door—it was more like closing a chapter in his life and starting another. Still his mother would be proud of the way he had handled everything. Kevin smiled wryly, and she’d always complained that he never listened to her!

***

The months following Kevin’s departure were lonely ones for Kimberley. In the first days she’d had the rage of thinking that he had spiked her drink to keep her from missing him. But once she knew that he hadn’t, missing him became an ache that gnawed at her insides, taking a little bite daily. She went to the Boatyard twice with Brenda, but clubbing didn’t feel the same. Soca didn’t lift her in quite the same way, and soul music reminded her of dancing with Kevin. And worst of all, the beach, her place of refuge, made her feel desolate. She had lost the joy she had always felt living on an island so beautiful people came from the four corners of the earth to enjoy it. She needed to go away so that she would miss it, so that she would yearn for the sunshine, the sand, the sea and soca music, again. It was the perfect time to pursue the MBA. She would achieve it by her thirtieth birthday and be a step closer to her goal of being self-employed by the age of thirty-five. She couldn’t wait to see Kevin again. She deliberately kept the conversations impersonal each time they spoke, not wanting to make plans in case something happened to spoil them. Kevin sounded just as eager for her to come to the UK. She didn’t know if it was because he and Dawn had filed for a divorce and he was lonely. Or whether it was because now that he was free to date any woman he had chosen, he wanted her. Her well-meaning uncle, Ignatius, had already messed up one of her tentative plans. Foolishly, she had gone to him for advice on the best places to rent in London, since he had spent the greater part of his life living there. He had immediately insisted that she share the two bedroom flat he still owned, with his daughter Cheryl. Ignatius and his wife Edith had moved back to Barbados from the UK less than a year ago after his employer had gone into liquidation and he had found it impossible to find another job at the age of fifty-seven. He had returned to Barbados hoping to secure a job before he reached retirement age, but hadn’t been optimistic about his chances. Kimberley’s father, his younger brother, had used his influence to get him a very well-paid job in the civil service and he and

Edith had settled very comfortably back into the rhythm of the country of their birth, secretly berating themselves for staying away and enduring hard times for so long. But publicly they maintained that life in London had been just that, wonderful, and that they had re-migrated solely because of the weather and its impact on their health now that they were older. Kimberley and Cheryl had been close as children. But Cheryl had become distant as they had grown up. Cheryl had married and subsequently divorced. It would be good to regain their childhood closeness, but Kimberley would have preferred to do so while living at separate premises.

***

Kevin had taken Kimberley’s flight details although Cheryl’s boyfriend was due to pick her up from the airport as she didn’t drive herself. He had planned to check the internet to ensure that the flight had left Barbados and arrived safely in the UK, that’s all, but on the morning of her arrival Kevin found himself driving to Heathrow, desperate to see her. It seemed a lifetime since he’d last seen her— comatose in the arms of Leonard, the black bear of a man. Arriving half an hour before the flight arrived, he spent ten frustrating minutes trying to find a parking space. Finally he spotted a driver reversing out of a parking bay on the sixth floor of the multi-storey car park. Giving the driver enough room to manoeuvre, he noticed another car pull up on the other side. On any other day he might have let the young blonde have the space, but the frustration of waiting had killed his chivalrous instincts. He accelerated into the space before she got any ideas. She smiled and drove off, acknowledging that if he had been a few seconds slower she would have stolen the space. The flight was expected three minutes late. He ordered breakfast from an airport café and read The Saturday Times, constantly checking his watch as he ate the ham and cheese croissant. He took the coffee with him and sipped it as he stood in the Waiting Area as the first engers disembarked. At first he worried that she had missed the flight. Then he ed that she wasn’t a British port holder, so it would take her a little longer to clear Immigration Control.

When he finally saw her coming towards him, he got the shock of his life. She had cut her hair—not shorter—completely off! The movement of her thick shoulder-length straightened hair when she tossed her head while dancing had been one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen. Even when she’d walked it had bounced sexily behind her. And she’d cut it all off! But as he walked towards her and got over his initial shock, he realized that the haircut enhanced her features. If she’d told him that she’d planned to cut her hair he would have strongly advised against it, but the boyish haircut actually made her look more feminine. She had a beautifully shaped head and the haircut threw her facial contours into sharper focus.

***

Kimberley searched the crowd for Cheryl as she pushed the trolley with her two heavy suitcases, her hand luggage and duty-free purchases down the sloped walkway. As the squeals and shouts of eager family and friends as they embraced arrivals filled the air, she felt a sense of unease that she dismissed as ridiculous. Halting at the end of the walkway she checked over her shoulder to see if she had somehow missed her cousin. She hadn’t. Telling herself not to panic, she took a deep breath and looked around again. No Cheryl. Her gaze connected with a man’s twinkling dark eyes and... Kevin! Smiling with relief she hurried forward, letting go of the trolley as she launched herself into his arms. “What are you doing here?” she asked breathlessly when he released her. “I was dying to see you. I couldn’t wait a minute longer.” “Cheryl’s not here yet.” “Call and tell her that I’ll give you a lift if she’s delayed or stuck in traffic.”

Kevin handed her his mobile phone and she quickly dialled the mobile number on the small square of paper which contained her cousin’s details. The mobile at the other end was switched off. Kimberley tried the land line, thinking at first that she was listening to a recording when Cheryl’s sleepy voice answered on the sixth ring. Without offering an apology Cheryl explained that she and her boyfriend had come in late from the pub and had overslept. Kimberley’s feeling of foreboding returned as she informed her cousin that a friend would give her a lift and disconnected the line. “She’s still home. She overslept.” Kimberley cringed as she repeated her cousin’s lame excuse. “That gives me another hour of your company. More if there’s traffic, or if I drive slowly.” Kimberley smiled in response to his flirty comment, but she brooded as Kevin loaded the larger of her matching suitcases into his trunk and the other on the back seat with her hand luggage. Cheryl hadn’t sounded exactly thrilled that she was coming to stay. “Why did you cut your hair?” Kevin asked as he turned the key in the ignition, breaking into her solemn thoughts. “I hate going to the hairdresser. It takes me years to find one that suits me and I didn’t want to waste time looking for one over here. I wanted a style that I could maintain myself.” She had actually cut it off the very day he had left, but she didn’t plan on telling him that. He had always run his hands through her hair or played idly with the ends whenever they were sitting together. She had wanted to rid herself of the memory and had taken rather drastic measures to do so. “It suits you, but weren’t you worried that it wouldn’t?” “Even if I messed it up, I knew that it would grow back eventually. My mother almost had a heart attack. She still hasn’t forgiven me for cutting it.”

Her mother had taken one look at her shaven head and almost swooned, like a heroine in one of her historical novels. Her mother was a bit like David, translating ‘hair is a woman’s beauty’ to mean the longer the hair, the more beautiful the woman. “Most women would kill for the hair you have just carelessly cut off,” her mother had reproached. But cutting her hair had been one of the most freeing things Kimberley had ever done. She’d gone swimming the next morning without a swim cap for the first time since she’d learned to swim over twenty years ago. Not having to style her hair every morning had given her time to read the newspaper and sometime finish the easy crossword before she left for work. And she didn’t have to spend any time or money in the beauty salon. It would be tough going back to having long hair now she had experienced the freedom of having none. “It’s a long drive so have a rest if you want to,” Kevin said as she discreetly tried to stifle a yawn as he pulled out of the airport car park. She was exhausted. “Thanks. I think I’ll take a short nap.” She smiled at him gratefully as she adjusted the seat and closed her eyes. The flight had been an emotional one for her and she hadn’t slept a wink. The previous day she had been surprised how bereft she’d felt kissing her parents goodbye at the airport. It had struck her quite forcefully that she was their only child. She had fervently prayed as the airplane had taken off that nothing would happen to her or either of them before she returned to Barbados. Her mother’s tears had surprised her the most; she wasn’t a woman given to public displays of emotion. Even her father’s eyes had seemed a little misty. Often Kimberley had wondered if they really needed her. They had each other and one of the strongest marriages Kimberley knew. She was so used to fighting with them and dealing with their disapproval more often than their praise that she sometimes forgot that like most parents all they wanted was the best for her and whatever they did was out of love. She would be a better daughter when she returned to Barbados, she had vowed silently as she’d hugged her mother one last time. Once on the plane the thought of seeing Kevin again had soon pushed the sadness away. She had wondered if he’d missed her as much as she’d missed

him. She had recalled every ionate encounter they had shared, and the memory had warmed her blood. She ed every millimetre of his handsome face: his straight eyebrows; his thick lashes; his bold, shapely nose; his firm, cleanly-shaven jaw and his sexy, sexy lips that she could never look at again without thinking of them covering hers or tugging sweetly, urgently on her aching nipples. And how could she ever think of his long square-tipped fingers as just fingers when they had touched her so knowingly, destroying her composure and her inhibitions so easily?

Chapter Nine

When Kimberley pressed the buzzer two full minutes elapsed before a blearyeyed and dishevelled Cheryl appeared at the door, dressed in a short cotton nightshirt. She mumbled a greeting, turned and walked back into the small flat and straight back into a room which appeared to be her bedroom and closed the door. Kimberley helped Kevin pull the luggage into the flat, so embarrassed by her cousin’s cool reception she felt close to tears. The small bedroom next to the one into which Cheryl had disappeared stood open and appeared to have been made ready for her. A single bed with a plain white duvet occupied one corner, a built-in wardrobe another. “Do you want to grab dinner later?” Kevin asked as he hauled the last of her luggage into the room. She desperately wanted a full update of the situation between him and Dawn, but unbelievably she had slept for most of the journey from the airport. But she also needed to speak to her cousin. “I’m not sure if Cheryl’s made plans.” “Of course. She may have planned something special for your first night here.” Kevin took a card from his wallet and handed it to her. “Give me a call as soon as you are settled in.” Although Kimberley had taken a long snooze in the car, she still felt exhausted as she sat on the edge of the narrow bed. Kevin bent and kissed her cheek as he turned to leave. Wearily she got to her feet to see him out. At the door she reached up and planted a kiss on his lips. “Thanks for meeting me.” “My pleasure. Call me.” “I will,” she promised and stood at the door looking out long after he had driven away. Her cousin’s lacklustre welcome had increased Kimberley’s unease—something was definitely wrong. She unpacked her suitcases, using the two dozen or so hangers in the wardrobe for her dresses and formal clothing. Her casual clothing had to be left in the suitcases as there wasn’t enough room. Her stomach rumbled with hunger, but ing her cousin’s offhand

greeting Kimberley didn’t dare help herself to even a cup of coffee without permission. Instead she had a shower, changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and took another nap. She woke when Cheryl and her boyfriend emerged from the ading bedroom just after three o’clock. She waited for her cousin to pop her head round the door. Ten minutes later deciding that her cousin must think that she was still sleeping, Kimberley ventured out. And got as big a shock as the one she must have given Kevin. Paul was very early twenties, tall and quite handsome and...not Black. When Kimberley had called from Barbados, trying to re-connect with her cousin before she came to the UK, Cheryl had told her about him. They’d started dating just over eight months ago and she’ said that he was nothing like her lazy, tight-fisted, unfaithful, wife-beater of a ex-husband. Kimberley was also a little shocked by the physical change in her cousin. She and Cheryl, of similar height, had both inherited their paternal grandmother’s curves and had been almost the same size when they had last met. Now Cheryl was at least three sizes smaller and looked like she hadn’t eaten a solid meal in months. Her breasts looked non-existent compared to Kimberley’s 36D’s. And yet, bizarrely Cheryl had retained her rounded behind. It looked very conspicuous on her now too-slender body. “Sorry about the airport, Kimberley,” Paul apologized, smiling. “Cheryl didn’t tell me about it until we came in drunk last night—I mean early this morning.” Ah, so the non-pick up had been Cheryl’s fault not his. “You didn’t tell me Paul’s English,” Kimberley remarked as she and Cheryl sat side-by-side on the sofa when he had left to visit friends later that evening. “Actually, he is Dutch!” Cheryl spat, as though Kimberley was dense not to know the difference. “Do you have a problem with it?” “Of course I don’t!” Kimberley reassured her hastily, surprised at her cousin’s vehemence. “It wasn’t a criticism. I just wondered why you hadn’t mentioned it when we spoke.”

“I didn’t mention it because it’s irrelevant.” Was this unsmiling, hostile woman the cousin with whom Kimberley had shared hours of laughter as a child? “Does Uncle Iggy know?” “It’s none of his business.” Cheryl didn’t utter them but her flashing eyes communicated, and don’t you dare tell him! Kimberley ed her uncle, Ignatius, making a long speech at Cheryl’s wedding, praising her for not following some of the ‘wayward’ children of fellow Barbadians who had forgotten their roots and married outside their race. She doubted that his opinion of inter-racial relationships and marriages had changed. “I’ll never date a Black man again,” Cheryl asserted. “They are all good-fornothing, unfaithful, stingy bastards!” “Cheryl, you can’t generalize like that. They are good and bad men in every race. I know that Trenton didn’t turn out to be the kind of husband you wanted, but you can’t judge all Black men by his standards.” “Oh please! I dated other Black men before Trenton. They are all the same. Paul knows how to treat a woman. He buys me flowers and gifts all the time, takes me to dinner at least once a week and he doesn’t sleep around.” Cheryl had explained when they had recently spoken on the phone that Trenton had lost his job a few months after he and Cheryl had married for taking sick leave when he’d contracted a cold, although he had previously received a third and final warning from his employer for exceeded normal sickness levels. He hadn’t made an effort to get another job and yet had continued to spend money freely from the t into which then only her salary then being paid and yet had made her for every penny she spent. He had started returning home in the early hours of the morning or sometimes not until the next day. He had slapped her a few times when she had displeased him, so she’d learned not to provoke his temper, but when he had punched her in the stomach after she had returned from a shopping trip without the cigarettes she had specifically left the house to purchase for him, Cheryl had moved back in with her parents and immediately filed for a divorce.

Kimberley understood her cousin’s bitterness. She just didn’t understand why she was attributing all his flaws to the colour of his skin. “I’m sure that there are Black men in this country who treat women—” “Don’t think that you know Black British men better than I do! You’d better watch yourself with whatever-his-name-is!” Cheryl jumped off the sofa and stood looking scornfully down at Kimberley. “But hey, Princess, you might have just been lucky enough to have found the last decent Black man in the UK!” “Kevin and I are just friends,” Kimberley protested. “Yeah, right!” Cheryl sneered and stormed into her bedroom, leaving her bewildered cousin staring after her thinking, what the hell?

***

Cheryl was a supervisor at Selfridges, one of the London department stores which rivalled Harrods in splendour. Paul was a final year student at King’s College. They had met when he started working on a part-time basis at the store just before the beginning of the busy Christmas season. If Kimberley had known that Cheryl and Paul were living together, she would have found alternative accommodation. It was nothing to do with the colour of Paul’s skin; Kimberley would have been just as uncomfortable if Cheryl’s boyfriend was Black. It was their constant, unashamed kissing and touching in her presence that made Kimberley squirm. And, worst were their drunken, noisy lovemaking sessions whenever they returned from the pub. The thin bedroom walls seemed to echo rather than muffle the sound and Kimberley had to sometimes put her pillow over her ears to get some sleep. Paul was rather nice, Kimberley had found, though his piercing blue eyes seemed to follow her everywhere. The day after Kimberley had arrived they had all watched the re-run of an episode of Friends on Channel 4. Even with her eyes focused on the screen, Kimberley had felt Paul’s eyes on her. She thought that it was just her overactive imagination until she saw Cheryl furtively jab him in the ribs in reprimand.

Kimberley didn’t think that he was attracted to her. She suspected that he was simply curious about her, in the same way she was curious about him. Though she wasn’t fond of travelling, she nevertheless had an avid interest in people and other cultures. It felt odd living in such close proximity to another person and not knowing more about him than his name and nationality. But it wasn’t worth incurring Cheryl’s wrath just to satisfy her curiosity. Like Kimberley’s, Paul’s lectures didn’t start until the week after her arrival. So when Cheryl left for work that week, the two of them remained in the flat, alone. Kimberley spent the majority of the time cooped up in her room knowing that her cousin would probably hit the roof if she came home and found Kimberley and Paul doing something as innocent as sharing the living room.

***

Kevin called Kimberley often but Cheryl’s warning about Black British men had made her suddenly cautious. And absurdly Kimberley felt the need to prove to her cousin that Kevin was indeed just a friend, as she had told her. Though why she was seeking Cheryl’s approval she had no idea, the woman acted as though Kimberley was a painful thorn in her side. “Kimberley, your classes don’t start until Monday!” Kevin said in exasperation as she refused yet another dinner date. “If you don’t want to see me, just say so!” “Of course I want to see you, Kevin. Why wouldn’t I?” Why wouldn’t she indeed! Was she mad to take advice from a woman too bitter about her experiences to give rational advice. Regaining her lost mind, Kimberley said, “I’m free on Friday.” As soon as she entered the car Kevin noticed that she was quieter, that she’d lost some of her spark. “What’s the matter?” “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not. You look sad. Are you homesick?” She didn’t answer but he saw her lower lip tremble before she turned her head away and gazed through the car window. “Kimberley, talk to me, please.” “I’m okay, really.” She hesitated then continued, “Cheryl and I haven’t been getting on. I think I might have to move.” “I’ve got two spare rooms, you can stay with me.” “No.” “Why not?” he asked in surprise. “I need somewhere quiet where I can study.” “I’m hardly ever at home. I work long hours, play squash three evenings a week and if I don’t have dinner with my sister Deanne at least once a week she would go to the nearest police station and report me as a missing person.” “Living with you would not be a good idea and we both know it.” “Do you think that I would demand sexual favours in return? You can pay me rent if it will make you feel better.” “Kevin, don’t let’s fool ourselves. It will complicate matters if we are in a house alone. I would have moved out the day after I arrived, but my uncle would want to know why...it’s complicated. I just thought that Cheryl would have been happy to see me. Instead she’s treating me like something the cat dragged in. I can’t wait until this damn course is over and I can go home.” He turned off the ignition as they got to the restaurant, but instead of getting out he turned to face her. “If you are uncomfortable I think you should move. I could find you a decent place if you don’t want to live with me.” “Things should get better once I start the course. Let me give it a go and see.” Kimberley leaned back against the headrest and closed her eyes for a minute. “Kevin, we have avoided talking about what happened that last night we were

together in your hotel room. I still feel embarrassed about it, but I think we need to discuss it. I have been celibate since I broke up with my last boyfriend David almost two years ago. I never missed having a boyfriend nor having sex for that matter. I was surprised how my body—but I never meant to leave you just...like that.” “It’s OK. Besides I didn’t have any condoms so we couldn’t have gone much further.” “I had brought condoms with me,” she itted. “What!” “Independent ladies do that sort of thing,” Kimberley informed him, showing some of the Bajan fire he had come to expect from her. “I don’t believe in holiday romances, but I felt attracted to you and had seriously considered sleeping with you. So I got the condoms just in case.” She laughed selfconsciously before continuing, “But suddenly I thought about Dawn and what we were doing felt wrong. I would have felt terrible if you had come back to the UK, resolved the problems with Dawn and forgotten all about me.” “I could never forget you.” Kevin reached for her hand. “Dawn and I are over. I have to move on.” She turned to look at him, her eyes sombre. “You need time to grieve the end of that relationship before you start another. I need to know for sure that your feelings for me are real and that you are not using me to ease your pain.” “I’m not.” “I’m not accusing you.” She smiled and reached over to cup his jaw with her free hand. “But it’s only natural to want something or someone to distract you.” “OK. Maybe you’re right,” he conceded. Being around Kimberley made him forget everything but her. Yet, lying in bed at night his thoughts were always filled with Dawn. “You are here for twelve months, enough time for us to get to know each other better. Let’s just be friends, enjoy each other’s company, go out and have a good time.” “Alright.” Friendship she could definitely do. Glad that the ice was broken she

asked, “So, how do you feel about the divorce?” “I’m learning to accept the fact that my ex-wife is now living with my best friend. It would have been much worst if it had happened when Kareem was alive and I thought that we had the perfect marriage. But subconsciously I think I had accepted that once she moved out of the house she might never come back.” He smiled wryly and idly stroked Kimberley’s hand as he continued, “If she had fallen in love with anyone but Anthony I would have been hurt but I would have tried to be understanding. But her and Anthony... It made me question everything. For about half a second I even wondered if Kareem had been mine, but the little man looked just like me, poor fellow.” “You have to show me a picture of him sometime.” “I’ve got one here.” He pulled it out of his wallet and ed it to her. “God, he looks just like you!” Looked, she corrected herself silently. But heavens it was like looking at Kevin in miniature! “And that’s the main problem. I remind Dawn too much of Kareem. Every time she saw me it was like losing him all over again. I was hindering her recovery.” Kimberley had no idea what to say. Many people drew comfort from having someone around that reminded them of lost loved ones, but the opposite must also be true. “The good thing coming out of all this is that I don’t have to worry about her,” Kevin said as he replaced the snapshot. “If it had been another man I would have always worried that he was mistreating or even beating her. I have known her for a long time and I know how easy it is to hurt her feelings. Anthony will look after her.” “Better than you?” Kimberley bit her tongue, but the question had already escaped. “No one could be better than me, baby,” Kevin boasted with an arrogant toss of his head, but he was smiling. “I think he has always had a soft spot for her. For her birthday he always gave her something small but significant, like he had spent time studying her and knew exactly what she liked. Books by her favourite authors, CDs by her favourite bands or singers—I generally bought

whatever was the current bestseller. For her eighteenth he bought her a huge, ugly teddy bear. I thought it was a bit juvenile until I found out that a few weeks before, when we had all gone to Clintons to get something for my sister Deanne’s birthday at the very last minute, he had seen Dawn stop and stroke the bear longingly.” Beware of Greeks bearing gifts, Kimberley muttered under her breath. “When we got married I had to constantly kick the damn thing out of bed! She loves that bear.” Anthony was sounding more and more like a snake in the grass to Kimberley. He could have told Kevin that Dawn liked the bear instead of buying it himself. But, she itted, the man was Kevin’s friend and he ought to know him better than she did. “And speaking of Deanne, I’m having my sisters and their families over for dinner the last Saturday this month. I have invited Anthony and Dawn as well. My sisters and Dawn were very close. My nieces and nephew love Anthony because he spoils them rotten. My older sister, Deanne, treats him like a son and I know that she’s feeling terrible.” He squeezed her hand briefly. “I waited until you’d arrived to plan it. If they see me looking happy I think it will make them all feel better.” “I’m not sure, Kevin. It sounds like a family thing.” Never mind Kevin’s relatives, did she really want to meet the woman Kevin still loved? “It’s not a family thing,” Kevin protested. “My sisters will be happier if they think that I have moved on. And Dawn and Anthony would feel more comfortable if they meet you.” He probably needed her presence to save face. “Okay, I’ll come,” she agreed. And perhaps it was time to meet Dawn. She could only compete if she met the competition.

***

Many of the students on the course had come to the UK for the purpose of studying for the MBA. There were even a few from the Caribbean. Kimberley settled in quickly, the course promised to be engaging and she looked forward to the challenge. The college library didn’t close until late each evening and many evenings she reluctantly gathered her books when closing time was announced. Between classes, the library and Kevin, she had been avoiding Cheryl’s flat until it was time to sleep. “God, I miss my Soca!” she sighed to Kevin as she sipped Shiraz after a rather filling Italian meal the next Friday. “If I was in Barbados I would be at Oistins, eating flying fish and whiining to some Soca!” “Some of the clubs over here play a little Soca, but not enough to satisfy you, I’m sure. There’s a nightclub called Club Afrique in Canning Town, not that far from here in fact. They play African music which is similar to Soca. I could take you there if you’d like to go.” “Tonight?” Her eyes lit up eagerly. “Sure.” “Would I have to go home and get changed first?” She indicated the dress she was wearing. “No, what you are wearing is fine.” It was more than fine—all he had thought about while they had been dining was slipping the thin straps off her shoulders and pulling the dress downwards. The club had changed owners since Kevin’s last visit. The clubbers seemed too young to be out partying. Or was he too old? Few empty seats remained but he managed to find a couple willing to share their table. Kevin ordered a cranberry Breezer for Kimberley and a small bottle of Nigerian Guinness for himself. The stout was stronger than the Irish brew, but since he had only had half a glass of wine with the meal he would still be under the limit

if he was stopped on the way home. The DJ switched to African music and Kimberley’s eyes lit up. She turned to him and cocked her eyebrow. He shook his head, but got to his feet and led her to the dance floor. He kept an eye on their drinks over her shoulder but he needn’t have bothered—all the other clubbers were on the packed dance floor. Afterwards they danced to Reggae and then the DJ played a short session of Soca. When they left the club at half past three in the morning Kimberley was smiling and looking more like the woman he’d met in Barbados. “Thanks so much, Kevin. I had a great time. I really enjoyed the African music.” “Yes, and several African men enjoyed watching you enjoy it,” he told her, smiling at the memory. “I noticed them looking at me. They probably thought I was a crazy woman!” “I think they were more interested in your physical rather than your mental attributes.” Although Kimberley’s unique waist movements had been riveting, she had been matched by the women performing traditional dances. Yet, several of the men, some with partners, had had their eyes trained on Kimberley as she’d danced. “I doubt that!” Kevin smiled but didn’t respond, glancing into his rear-view mirror as he pulled away from the kerb. When they got to Cheryl’s flat, he took the bull by the horns and asked the question he’d been wanting to all evening, “Do you want to grab some clothes and come over to spend the night at my place?” Kimberley turned to answer and sensing a refusal, he quickly added, “You’ll sleep in one of the spare bedrooms. Tomorrow we’ll cook some food and chill out. No strings attached!” “OK.” Smiling broadly, she opened the door and swung her legs out of the car.

“Give me ten minutes.” She was back in less than five, a small rucksack over her left shoulder. “Got everything?” “Yes, it’s only for one night, isn’t it?” “Correct.” He’d hoped that she would spend the entire weekend, but one night was better than nothing. Kimberley glanced at the well-kept front garden in appreciation as they turned into Kevin’s driveway. He grabbed her rucksack and let her precede him to the front door. When he unlocked the door, she gave a low whistle as she looked around the living room. “Dawn’s handiwork. It took her almost five years to get things exactly how she wanted.” Kevin informed her as he reached for her hand and led the way to the kitchen. “I’ll open a bottle of red and let it breathe while I give you a quick tour.” The red two-oven Aga must have been Dawn’s choice, Kimberley thought, but despite the colour the big cooker and its free-standing module were rather ‘butch’. Everything in the kitchen had been designed to complement it and the overall effect was stunning. “Wow!” Kevin deftly pulled the cork from the bottle he had taken from a fully-stacked rack, then opened an overhead cupboard and took down two wine glasses. “Dawn’s masterpiece. She loved this kitchen.” Kevin hooked Kimberley’s arm through his and headed for the carpeted stairway. “She has exquisite taste.” “Yes.” He didn’t elaborate. “Let me show you upstairs.” “You can sleep in here.” Kevin pushed opened the door at the end of the corridor and stood aside for her to have a look before retracing his steps and

opening the door next to it, “or in here—my niece Shauntay’s room, or so she informs everyone.” “Definitely Shauntay’s room,” Kimberley decided. The décor of the room was more feminine and it had a lived-in look to it. Kevin placed her rucksack on the bed and they moved to the next bedroom. “This room was Kareem’s.” Kevin pushed opened the bedroom door but didn’t enter the room. His son’s small bed was neatly made, his clothes hidden away in his wardrobe drawers, his numerous toys all stacked in his playpen. Kareem had been a bundle of energy, nothing had ever stayed in place for long. The order of the room was a stark reminder of his absence. Kimberley saw the shadow that ed over Kevin’s face before he quickly closed the door again. Knowing that there was nothing she could say that would make him feel better, she slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him. He buried his face into her neck and held her tightly for a minute before he took a deep breath and straightened, smiling crookedly down at her. “Sometimes, it feels like yesterday.” His voice was hoarse with choked emotion and she glimpsed the agony she knew he must go through every time he thought of his son. “Let’s have some wine,” she suggested. “Good idea,” he smiled and his mood seemed to lighten. Filled glasses in hand, they retired to the living room. “I hope you like jazz.” Kevin softened the lights as the first strains of Wynton Marsalis’ The Seductress filled the room. “I couldn’t live in my father’s house and not like jazz.” Kimberley patted the seat of the armchair nearest to the sound system. Kevin obeyed her tacit instruction and sat down. With a soft sigh of pleasure she eased herself onto the plush carpet beside the chair and rested her head on his lap. “Your home is very restful.”

“Are you tired?” he whispered, gently stroking the short, silky strands of hair on her head. “No,” she responded softly, closing her eyes to better appreciate the sound wafting around them. Gradually her breathing slowed and he leaned over, wondering if she had fallen asleep. She turned her head and caught his lower lip playfully between hers and then treated the upper to the same delicious assault. “Kimberley—” Ignoring the warning in his voice, she slid her tongue into his mouth. He pulled her upwards with surprising strength and the next minute she was sprawled over his lap, his lips covering hers as he plunged his tongue deep into her mouth. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body into his as the same hunger that had gripped her in his hotel room in Barbados took hold of her again. She brought his hand up and pressed it against her breast, needing him to massage the ache of her swollen nipple. He cupped it immediately, stroking it into an even harder point through the material. When it seemed as if it had stiffened to his satisfaction, he eased the thin straps of her dress downwards and his lips left hers to torment it as his hand covered her other breast and teased its nipple into a tight bud. For long moments he feasted on the swollen buds, the sound of her ragged moans drowning the music in the background. Her body felt weightless. She was aware only of her full, taut breasts and the pleasure that radiated to the junction of her thighs every time his lips pulled on their aroused tips. Her hands feverishly stroked his head, shoulders, arms, chest and back, needing to touch him to keep from disappearing altogether as the sensations built and built. When the tone of her moans reached crescendo Kevin slid his hand under the hem of her dress. She willingly gave him the access he needed and he slipped aside the damp scrap of lace that stood between him and paradise. She gasped his name as his fingertips gently but repeatedly caressed the jewel nestled between the black curls. When her hips lifted to indicate a greater need, he slid two long fingers deep inside her moist heat and sent her immediately into an orgasm of dizzying intensity. Her body momentarily stiffened and arching

upwards as shuddering spasms raced through her. When she settled bonelessly back against him, he pulled the hem of her dress back in place and wrapped his arms around her snugly. The proof of his need pressing almost painfully into her bottom. Shifting her weight she reached down and ran her hand across its swollen length. Kevin caught her hand in his, brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I’m OK.” He gently pushed her to her feet and got off the sofa. “You go on up to bed, I have a few things to take care of first.” “Good night, Kevin.” She felt a little bemused. Was he rejecting her or being considerate? “Good night.” He bent his head and kissed her softly.

***

She woke to a feeling of delicious lassitude and luxuriated in it for several moments, stretching lazily before she opened her eyes. She felt wonderful! After a quick, invigorating shower in the en suite bathroom, she pulled on denim shorts and a T-shirt and padded barefoot down the steps to Kevin in the kitchen. “Morning.” He was cooking breakfast. She slipped her arms around him from behind, carefully avoiding the hot saucepan with two sunny-side up eggs frying gently. “You have spoilt my surprise,” he complained as he turned in her arms and kissed her. “I was going to bring you breakfast in bed! Did you sleep well?” “Yes, thank you.” It had been the best sleep she’d had since arriving in the UK. The single bed at Cheryl’s was taking some getting use to; she usually spread

herself shamelessly across her queen-sized bed in Barbados. “Did you?” “I was out like a light. It’s comforting to have someone else in the house.” He bent to kiss her again but the smell of singed eggs alerted him to the impeding culinary disaster. They had overcooked. “I hope you like your eggs well done!” “I love them well done.” She laughed as he rescued the eggs. They ate at the small cosy breakfast bar in the kitchen and Kimberley was surprised that there was no awkwardness. Kevin behaved as though it was the most natural thing in the world to have given her pleasure while denying himself. After breakfast they watched a documentary on volcanoes. During the commercial break Kevin pulled her to her feet and said, “Come with me.” He stopped just before they reached the kitchen and covered her eyes with his cupped hands. Laughing, she let him lead her blindly, wondering what kind of surprise he had in store for her. Her puzzlement increased when he took her hand in his and placed it against something cold and wet. She pulled her hand back with a gasp. “Any guesses?” he queried, laughing at her reaction. “No.” She couldn’t imagine what it could be. “Okay, open your eyes.” “Where did you get them?” She asked, staring unbelievably at the parcel of raw flying fish. “From a Bajan client of mine.” “Thank you so much, Kevin.” She reached up and kissed him lightly on the lips. “I’ll let you do the honours as they are from your country.” “You assume I can cook?” she asked, teasing him. “I can cook them, but don’t expect them to taste like the ones we had at Oistins.”

“Of course I can cook. My mother tried to make sure that I would make some man a good wife. She didn’t succeed,” Kimberley laughed, “but at least I learned to cook!” She seasoned the fish and left them to marinate in the herbs while they watched the rest of the documentary and a very predictable, made-for-television movie. Then coating the fish in a light batter, she fried them and served them with spicy, deep-fried, chunky potato wedges. And then Kevin produced the pièce de résistance—perfectly chilled bottles of Banks beers! Kimberley rarely drank the local brew when she was home, but there must be some truth about the heart, and it seemed the taste buds, becoming fonder with absence—they tasted like nectar. Kimberley couldn’t enjoying a meal more.

***

The next week sped by and before she knew it Kimberley was on her way to Kevin’s dinner party in a mini cab. As she paid the driver and stepped out of the cab she ired the sleek lines of the Lexus parked with its nearside wheels on the kerb. There were two large Mercedes-Benz parked in Kevin’s driveway, beside his BMW. A car thief would think he was in car heaven—if he could decide which one to steal! Kevin opened the door as soon as she pressed the buzzer. “I thought you’d changed your mind!” he scolded, hugging her tightly for a minute. “Sorry, I booked the cab for seven thirty but it didn’t arrive until almost five to eight.” “Come on in and meet everyone.” He slipped his arm around her waist and led her into the living room. Kimberley immediately recognized the two tall women as Kevin’s sisters; there

was no mistaking the family resemblance. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kimberley,” Deanne, Kevin’s older sister uttered the words graciously but her eyes held Kimberley’s intently as if looking for character flaws. Close-up her resemblance to Kevin was even more noticeable. “Kevin has told me a lot about you.” “I’m pleased to meet you too, Deanne.” Roxanne’s warm hug made Kimberley feel immediately at ease. Anthony and Dawn both kissed her cheek when Kevin introduced them. Kimberley was temporarily thrown by Anthony’s amber eyes. Kevin had mentioned that Anthony had the same eye colour as Brenda, but Brenda’s eyes blended in with her light skin tone; Anthony’s stood out in contrast. Dawn was quite unlike Kimberley’s expectations. Her large long-lashed eyes were doe like in her heartshaped face. Her petite body filled the black dress she was wearing in all the right places and long straightened hair flowed half way down her back, the dark brown colour of it was unusual, but looked natural. For a second Kimberley fervently wished that she hadn’t cut her own hair off. It was ironic that she would automatically react that way, she itted to herself ruefully. Kevin had told her repeatedly how much he loved her new hairstyle. But faced with her competitor she immediately feel at a disadvantage having the shorter hair. She was perhaps more her mother’s daughter than she cared to it. Kevin’s brothers-in-law were standing together in a corner chatting. When Kevin took Kimberley over to meet them she thought they looked similar, but she didn’t comment. She laughed when Kevin confirmed that the good-looking men were indeed brothers. “My little brother always followed in my footsteps,” Charles Coleridge said with a laugh. “I married a Williamson so he married one too!” “Well, thank goodness my parents have two daughters. I would have hated to see the two of you fighting over the same woman!” Kevin remarked. “We wouldn’t have fought. I would have married you instead.” Mark, the younger of the brothers winked lasciviously at Kevin before he and his brother shared a high five, seeming to take mutual delight in teasing their much-younger

brother-in-law. “What makes you think that I would fancy you if I were gay?” Kevin cocked his wrists and fluttered his eyelids—the most unconvincing impression of a camp gay man Kimberley had ever seen. His brothers-in-law laughed. It was clear that they shared a close bond beyond the jokes and the teasing. The thought inexplicably warmed Kimberley. “Let me introduce you to my nieces and nephew who thankfully have enough Williamson blood in them to prevent them from becoming as crazy as their fathers.” Kevin took her arm and led her purposefully away as the two men chuckled. Kevin’s nephew and nieces could have ed for brother and sisters. After she’d been introduced to them the only thing Kimberley ed was that the youngest girl was Deanne’s and the boy was Roxanne’s; she couldn’t pick Deanne’s two older daughters from among the four young women if she was paid a fortune to do so. “Right, everyone’s here. Let’s eat,” Kevin announced as he made the last introduction. Keeping hold of Kimberley’s hand, he led the way to the dining room. He had fully extended the large dining table and brought up six extra, matching chairs from the basement. Deanne and Roxanne helped him bring the dishes from the kitchen and within minutes they were all seated and tucking into the tasty meal that his sisters had helped him prepare. Conversation flowed freely around the table, even Dawn and Anthony seemed at ease with Kevin’s family. The younger children were keen to know more about Barbados where their maternal great-grandparents were born. They had visited their grandparents in Guyana and California and wanted to know if Barbados was like either place. Kimberley answered their endless questions patiently, aware of Deanne’s intense scrutiny. It was like a job interview. Well, not that bad, perhaps. Kevin’s sisters brushed aside Kimberley’s offer of help to clear the table and stack the dishwasher and feeling at a loose end, she headed to the living room with everyone else. Taking a seat in the armchair closest to Kevin’s state-of-theart sound system, her face immediately warmed as she had a very erotic

flashback of the chair...jazz music...Kevin’s lips.... “Are you going to marry Uncle Kevin?” Kimberley’s heart almost gave out as Shauntay, Kevin’s youngest niece jumped onto her lap, slid her chubby arms around her neck and whispered the question into her ear, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Your uncle Kevin and I are just friends,” Kimberley whispered back, loud enough for everyone to hear “I think you are nice,” Shauntay dimpled up at her. “You can marry him if you want to.” “I think you are nice too.” Kimberley smiled as the young girl with the typical short attention span of childhood scrambled off her lap and went to her sisters and cousins. “I’m going up to Kareem’s room.” Dawn got off the sofa, her slim face set. “Do you want me to come with you?” Anthony caught her slender hand as she went by him. She shook her head and he let it go with obvious reluctance. His eyes followed her as she walked out of the room and Kimberley wondered how he had managed to keep his feelings for the woman hidden from Kevin; his love blazed like a flame in his light eyes. “So Kimberley, how are you finding our British weather?” Anthony turned and asked her with a smile. “Actually it isn’t as bad as I’d expected, although I’ve learned not to trust what I see when I look out the window when I wake up. A stormy-looking morning could give away to beautiful sunshine in the afternoon, and the skies can suddenly open on a sunny day and drench you from head to toe.” Anthony laughed. “That’s why the British always talk about the weather! It’s far more interesting than people realize and it sometimes manages to catch even us by surprise.” It was easy to see why he and Kevin were best friends, Kimberley thought in surprise as she responded to his questions about her course. She had been

prepared to dislike the man, thinking that no friend steals his friend’s woman, but as Kevin had said it was an unusual situation. He’d said that he strongly believed that if Kareem hadn’t died he and Dawn would still be happily married. He was probably right. But Kimberley suspected that Anthony, though perhaps happy for them, would still have secretly yearned for Dawn. Deanne and Roxanne walked into the room together and went over to their respective spouses. It was then that Kimberley realized that the older of the brothers was married to Roxanne, not Deanne. Kimberley had assumed that Charles had met Deanne and then introduced his younger brother to her younger sister. It was strange to think that he had met the younger sister and then his younger brother had fallen in love with her older sister. It was quite funny, Kimberley thought, as she excused herself to go up to the bathroom. The door to Kareem’s room stood open. Kimberley peered in instinctively to see if Dawn was alright. She jumped back in surprise and hurried along the carpeted walkway to the main bathroom. She had assumed that Kevin was still in the kitchen. Her heart had clenched painfully at the sight of him and Dawn wrapped in each other’s arms. Logically, she knew that it was more likely shared grief than ion, but somehow they had looked so right together. After using the bathroom, she washed and dried her hands, but stood at the door, reluctant to go past the bedroom again. She might have stood there indefinitely if someone hadn’t turned the door knob trying to enter. She quickly unlocked the door and found Shauntay about to turn away. “Are you finished, Aunty Kimberley?” Shauntay asked, her bright eyes shining in her cute little face. Aunty Kimberley? “Yes, honey,” she told the girl. “OK, because I was going to use the loo in my bedroom instead.” It was rather endearing that Shauntay thought of Kevin’s spare room as her own, Kimberley mused, as the girl raced past her, not bothering to lock the door.

Earlier Deanne had told her daughter off as she’d poured herself yet another glass of fruit juice. Her bladder must have finally reached full capacity. The door to Kareem’s bedroom was closed as Kimberley went past it. She gave a faint sigh of relief until she realized that it didn’t necessarily mean that Kevin and Dawn weren’t still inside. She hated herself for thinking the worst as she hurried down the stairs to the living room. Dawn was sitting on the sofa next to Anthony; Kevin’s head was bent over his nephew’s as he watched the teenager play a game on his Sony PS3. He looked up as she entered the room, his welcoming smile dispelling all her doubts. She walked slowly over to him, still amazed at the jealousy that had raged inside her only minutes before. She had never thought of herself as a jealous person, but the petite woman had the kind of helpless femininity that must surely bring out men’s protective instincts. When Kevin went to get another bottle of chilled wine, Deanne walked over to Kimberley. “Kevin’s had an extremely rough year. I hope that you’re not planning to give him any more heartache.” Deanne’s eyes looked directly into Kimberley’s as she said the words. “Kevin and I are just friends. He needs time to sort his feelings out before he starts another relationship.” Deanne pursed her lips. “I know my brother and I know that he feels things intensely, so if all you want is friendship you’d better let him know soon.” Kimberley didn’t get a chance to reply as Kevin came over to replenish her glass from the newly-opened bottle. Deanne touched him on the shoulder as she moved away. Kimberley understood his sister’s concern, but she doubted that Kevin’s feelings for her were ‘intense’. At eleven thirty Deanne decided that it was time to leave when Shauntay yawned tiredly. Her decision triggered an exodus: Roxanne and her family left at the same time; Anthony and Dawn five minutes later. The house immediately seemed too quiet, too intimate. Kevin looked tired, his eyes solemn in his suddenly drawn face.

“I think I’d better go as well.” Kimberley got to her feet and brushed the creases out of her linen tro suit. “I’d like you to stay.” “I didn’t bring anything to sleep in,” she protested. “You can use one of my T-shirts or pyjamas.” “OK,” she agreed, realizing that he would feel even more lonely in the house after the noise and the laughter. She knew that Cheryl and Paul would appreciate having the flat to themselves. Because of her they were forced to limit their sexual activities mainly to the bedroom, but Kimberley had found underwear under chair cushions when she was cleaning. One morning she had even seen a pair of Cheryl’s thongs under the kitchen table. “Go on up to bed. I’m going to put the chairs back in the basement and empty the dishwasher.” Kevin kissed her and immediately straightened. “Grab something to sleep in from my bedroom.” “Goodnight, Kevin.” “Pleasant dreams.” “You, too.” She ran up the stairs, turning when she reached the top. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs looking pensive, but he smiled and blew her a kiss before turning and heading towards the dining room. The first drawer Kimberley opened had neatly-folded underpants, vests and socks. She quickly closed it and tried the one below. The folded T-shirts were arranged by colour. Taking one from the top, she closed the drawer. It’s a good thing she was wearing a thong and not the panty girdle her mother would have advised, Kimberley thought, as she quickly washed and squeezed it almost dry in a towel. She hung it on an empty hanger and then stepped into the shower. Wondering if Kevin had come upstairs, she reached for the towel she had used

earlier to squeeze the water out of her thong. As she picked up the bottle of baby lotion from the dresser she ed Kevin’s vivacious young niece and smiled as she moisturized her skin. Slipping the T-shirt over her head, she crawled into the comfy bed. Her mind was filled with the image of Kevin’s face as he’d stood at the bottom of the stairs. It must be so difficult for him, living alone in a house filled with memories of Dawn and Kareem. She had seen his face as he held Dawn. She would never forget that brief glimpse of absolute desolation. Pulling the duvet back, she got off the bed and walked through the door without conscious thought. She needed to reassure him he was not alone. She pushed the door inwards quietly, so she wouldn’t disturb him if he was asleep. He was lying on his back with his head nestling in his linked hands, the duvet turned down to his waist, looking so bleak it tugged at her heartstrings. He really did keep his true feelings hidden well. She ed Deanne’s words —he really did feel things intensely. Her eyes re-acquainted themselves with the broad expanse of his chest and the ridges of his flat stomach before the line of his boxer shorts stopped her visual exploration. She had left her room with the vague idea of offering him comfort in some way. That vagueness was replaced by startling clarity. She held the power of comfort in her hand. She was comfort. A sigh of comion and awareness escaped her lips and he turned his head at the sound.

***

Kimberley stood at the door dressed in one of his white T-shirts. “I want to sleep with you.” Not waiting for his response she pulled the T-shirt off over her head and crawled under the duvet with him, naked. Kevin felt himself harden instantly as he

caught quick tantalizing glimpses of her round breasts, firm behind and long legs. She snuggled closer as he lowered his arm and wrapped it around her. “Are you sure about this?” “Yes,” she whispered, her dark eyes glittering in the soft light. He slid his body on top of hers and covered her lips with his. The hard peaks of her breasts pressed against his chest and she writhed against him as the kiss deepened. “Let me look at you,” he whispered. She pushed the cover downwards slowly, revealing first the twin perfection of her breasts, then her taut stomach and the neat triangle that pointed the way to paradise, just in case he needed directions. He pulled the duvet off completely and drank in the sight of her long, toned legs before gently turning her over. Her plump behind was sexier than he had imagined. He lowered his head and lovingly kissed their firm contours and felt the tremor run through her body as she chuckled. Turning her onto her back once again, he drank in the perfection of her bared breasts. They were the most beautiful pair of breasts he’d ever seen— swollen in arousal, the smooth skin stretched tautly over their firm roundness and the black pebbles of her puckered areolas perfectly centred. Bending he covered one with his lips and gently teased it with his teeth and tongue. Her body arched, pressing her breast harder against his mouth as he continued to tease her nipple with light nips which he immediately soothed with gentle flicks of his tongue. “I want to see you too.” The urgency in her breathless request made the hairs on Kevin’s nape stand to bristling attention. His erection already painfully engorged, twitched as another surge of blood rushed to it. Sitting up, he quickly pulled his boxers off. “Whoa!” Kimberley exclaimed, her eyes widening as she gazed at him. Her mouth went dry. She ran her tongue over her lips to moisten them as she reached out to stroke his smooth, throbbing length. As she closed her soft palm over him Kevin groaned and briefly closed his eyes, a hiss of pleasure escaping through his bared teeth. He ran his hands over the

curls covering her womanhood and groaned when his fingers encountered moist, very moist, heat. He slid a finger into her warmth and groaned again at her tightness. It would take a few moments to prepare her for his invading length. “Let me put a condom on you,” Kimberley whispered minutes later, maddened by the rhythmic skill of his thrusting fingers. Kevin reached into the top drawer of his bedside table and handed her an unopened box. She quickly ripped off the cellophane wrapping and extracted a condom. Tearing it open, she placed the condom between her lips and rolled the condom over the tip of his erection. Kevin groaned aloud and again when she rolled it in place with her hands. Gingerly, he pulled himself away and pushed her back against the bed. He kissed her fiercely, his tongue plundering her mouth as she reached between them and positioned him against her entrance. Lost in desire and the urge to bury himself in her silken sheath, he surged forward slowly, filling her with one sure thrust, temporarily forgetting that he had planned to take his time as she had been celibate for almost two years. “Sorry, baby.” He stilled and kissed away her soft whimpers as her body relaxed and softened around him. Then he slowly withdraw and plunged immediately back into her incredible heat. And then again. And again. Kimberley’s hands boldly caressed his body, tweaking his small nipples, stroking his back and cupping the firm contours of his butt while his hands discovered her just as thoroughly. When his lips left hers to once again capture the dark berry of her nipple, her appreciative moans filled the room. Tremors building inside him, signalled Kevin’s impeding eruption. He increased the driving tempo of his hips and plunged his tongue deeper into her mouth. She grabbed his butt and pulled him tightly against her as she went into the throes of her release, simultaneously triggering his. But Kevin had been denied the pleasure of a woman’s body for far too long and almost without pause he started his slow gyrations again. His lips sought hers and she pulled her legs up. They both groaned as he penetrated her more fully. Soon they were matching each other’s rhythm, dancing to their own special song, until Kimberley, and immediately afterwards Kevin, lost all sense of

rhythm and control. Kevin rolled off her and lay by her side, his chest rising and falling as rapidly as hers. And still he wanted her. “Are you alright?” He turned to look at her, his eyes alight with ion. “I’m fine.” “Not sore?” “A bit, but what’s a little pain for a lot of pleasure?” Her words were like a struck match to kindling. Kevin’s body pulsed instantly into readiness. Grabbing a handful of tissues from the nearby box, he discarded the condom and slipped on a fresh one. He kissed her hungrily and her lips met his with undisguised ion. Rolling onto his back, he took her with him. She raised herself against his majestic erection and slowly sank onto its throbbing length. She held still for a moment to give them both the chance to take a deep breath. Then ing herself with her hands on her upper thighs she lifted her body and sank back onto him, her hips undulating. Kevin matched the rhythm of her rotating hips, the movements were reminiscent of her soca dance moves. Her round breasts bounced firmly as she quickened the pace, her nipples standing firmly erect. She flung her head back as her soft moans increased in pitch. Kevin watched her his arousal almost painful. He’d never seen such beauty, such abandon. Lifting his head he took the black spike of her left nipple into his mouth and instantly she convulsed against him. Her tightly clenching muscles took him with her once again. She collapsed weakly onto his chest and he held her against him, stroking her damp, satiny back, running his hand from her shoulder blades to the prominent cheeks of her behind. Within minutes he felt her relax completely against him as she drifted off, but he couldn’t sleep. He’d thought himself a man of experience but she had just taken

him to another, exciting level. She wasn’t afraid to vocalize exactly what she wanted from him and she’d matched his sexual appetite. After the long lonely nights of abstinence, she had fulfilled his every fantasy. Even after five years of living with him and sharing the same bed, Dawn had still been shy with him. She had always redressed under the covers and had refused to do little more than the missionary position. She had once told him that doggystyle was for dogs. She didn’t like pain of any kind and he’d always had to handle her very gently. But he’d loved her and had enjoyed their lovemaking. He’d had no complaints. But while Dawn was like a doe, needing to be gently coaxed; Kimberley was like a tigress, standing her ground fearlessly, demanding and giving pleasure in equal measure.

***

Kimberley woke up in the early hours of the morning, the weight of Kevin’s arm around her waist, his naked body pressed close to hers from behind, the sound of his soft breathing in her ear. Utter bliss! The words were the only ones which came close to describing what she was feeling. Ronald had been a satisfactory lover; David’s technique had bordered on the perfunctory, but Kevin had given her a pleasure overload! She hadn’t expected more ecstasy than in their previous one-sided encounters, but those had only been foreplay. When he had slid into her body she had finally understood the meaning of the term ‘instrument of pleasure’. His length and thickness had been almost too much. Almost. Another millimetre would have been too much. Her body had fit him like the other piece of a jigsaw puzzle. Sighing in contentment, she snuggled back against him.

“Are you awake?” Kevin caught her earlobe playfully between his lips and she felt his body surge against her bottom. “Yes,” she whispered and turned to face him.

Chapter Ten

There were never any groceries in Cheryl’s flat. Thinking that her cousin was too busy to go food shopping, Kimberley stocked the fridge and the cupboards. Expecting a ‘thank you’ for her efforts, she was taken aback when Cheryl went ballistic. “I’m trying to keep my weight down, so I don’t need fattening foods in the house to tempt me! If you are happy with the size you are that’s your problem, but don’t try to fatten me!” “Cheryl, I’m not trying to fatten you. I thought you were too busy to go shopping so I decided to get a few things.” “In future ask first!” Cheryl stormed into her bedroom and slammed the door. Kimberley stared after her cousin in amazement. She simply couldn’t do anything right. She wished for the thousandth time that she had politely turned down her uncle’s offer. But the man had seemed desperate to do something in return for all the help Kimberley’s father had given him. Ignatius had come to the UK to seek a fortune thirty-four years ago and like thousands of his countrymen had found when they had arrived, the reports of success sent back by their predecessors were greatly exaggerated. He had left the island to come to the ‘Mother Country’, but Mother, whom he had worshipped from afar, hadn’t pressed him to her bosom and showered him with kisses of welcome when he had turned up on her shores. But going back to Barbados had not been an option—before leaving he’d thrown a big farewell bash and made pompous speeches about the things he would achieve in the UK. He had sold the modest house and the acres of fertile land he had inherited when his father died, and had given away all his possessions. He’d promised his younger brother, Ernest, the money to travel to the UK as soon as he had settled. But even if he could have afforded to, he would have been too embarrassed for his brother to see the squalid room he and his wife had occupied until he was able to move three years later. The lack of money and the high cost of childcare had restricted his family to one daughter, Cheryl. When she was eight Ernest and his wife Adrianna invited her to Barbados to spend the summer holidays with Kimberley, their six-year-old daughter. The cousins had enjoyed each other’s company so much they had cried as they had said goodbye at the airport when the holidays were over.

The next summer and every summer until she was eighteen Kimberley’s father had again paid Cheryl’s fare to Barbados. Kimberley’s parents had loved Cheryl’s British accent and impeccable manners. Kimberley had sometimes been a little jealous of them proudly showing off their well-spoken, ladylike niece from London. But having a cousin to play with more than made up for it. Though it had been more like having a sister. Ernest had given Cheryl the same weekly allowance as he had given his daughter and after she had turned up with an inadequate summer wardrobe on her first trip, Adrianna had bought Cheryl’s summer wardrobe along with Kimberley’s on her annual Easter trips to the US. Cheryl’s visits to Barbados ceased when she finished college and started a fulltime job at the Regent Street branch of Clarks, one of the UK’s biggest footwear manufacturers. Five years later she came back to the island to get married. Kimberley had welcomed Cheryl with open arms on her visits to Barbados. She had assumed her cousin would reciprocate. Instead, for some unexplained reason, Cheryl seemed resentful of Kimberley’s very presence in the flat and found fault with everything she did. When Kimberley did the dishes after dinner Cheryl complained that she let the water run for too long or used too much washing-up liquid. She complained about the length of time it took Kimberley to vacuum the carpet, claiming that she wasted electricity. Several times while Kimberley was having a shower Cheryl knocked loudly on the locked door, telling her to hurry up. It made Kimberley wonder angrily why her cousin would choose the very time she was enjoying a long relaxing shower to need the use of the bathroom. She discovered the real reason one day when she found Cheryl waiting for her as she left the bathroom door after a shower, dressed in a thick burgundy towelling robe. “Have you brought all the dirt from Barbados on your body?” Cheryl asked, her face thunderous. “Of course not!” “So why do you spend so long in the shower every time?” Was her cousin actually timing her showers? Kimberley quickly dismissed the idea—it was too ludicrous.

“I like taking long showers,” Kimberley explained. “It’s okay to have long showers if Daddy’s paying the bill. Some of us weren’t born with silver spoons in our mouths. We live in the real world and have to pay our own bills.” “Sorry, I meant to ask about the bills, but we’ve hardly had a private conversation since I’ve arrived.” “Did you now? Or did you think that you would live here scot-free as you do at your daddy’s house?” “I intended to give you some money towards bills, I just didn’t know how much!” Kimberley may be a lot of things but the one thing she wasn’t was too cheap to pay her own way. “Forget it.” Cheryl stormed off, marching into her bedroom and slamming her door. But a minute later she re-appeared. “And could you please put on some clothes when my boyfriend’s in the house!” She slammed the door again and Kimberley stood looking after her in numb surprise. She was annoyed with herself. Just three days ago the thought of the bills had again crossed her mind as she was waiting for the start of a lecture. She had made a mental note to broach the subject with Cheryl, but had forgotten when she got home. Her uncle had told her proudly that he had paid off his twenty-five-year mortgage two years before he had left the UK, so all that she needed to do was help Cheryl pay the bills. Kimberley had anticipated a warm welcome on her first day, had expected that she and her cousin would have sat down and discussed all matters relating to them sharing the flat. Instead they had hardly exchanged a civil word and now her cousin seemed to think that Kimberley expected to sponge off her. And did Cheryl really expect her to get dressed in the bathroom? Her thick towelling robe was perfectly decorous. What was Cheryl’s problem? Shaking her head in puzzlement, Kimberley slipped off the offending garment and reached for her body lotion. But that had been only the tip of the iceberg—Cheryl had a lot more to say later that day. Paul stopped Kimberley as she rushed back to her room from the

kitchen, a mug of coffee in one hand and a blueberry muffin in the other. “How’s the course going, Kimberley ?” “It’s quite good so far,” she replied politely, hoping that he wasn’t about to start up a lengthy conversation. She had warmed her muffin in the microwave to just the right temperature and consistency for immediate consumption. And Cheryl glaring at Paul for daring to speak to Kimberley sneered, “It doesn’t matter if she gets the qualification or not. Her daddy’s filthy rich.” “I have my own goals,” Kimberley informed her coldly. “Yes, gold watch, gold chain and gold spoon in the mouth,” Cheryl mocked in an exaggeration of Kimberley’s Bajan accent, knowing that it would infuriate her. “Everything you have your father gave to you.” “I it that he gave me a good education, but I had to study hard to keep my grades up,” Kimberley responded furiously. Her cousin had stepped on a raw nerve. Few people gave her credit for anything she did, assuming that her father must have played some part in the achievement. “The teachers probably gave you better grades because you’re daddy’s darling. How do you know that your father didn’t bribe the university when you got your degree or someone at the bank when you’ve been promoted? You make me laugh playing Miss Independent.” Cheryl laughed in derision. “We’ll see if you manage to get through this course without your father’s influence. Then again it doesn’t matter—you will still get all his money when he dies, whether you get the MBA or not!” “You seem to be in a bad mood. I think I’ll get back to my books.” Kimberley spoke quietly, in complete contrast to the storm inside her. She knew if she didn’t curb her instincts she and her cousin would soon be trading much more than insults.

***

Things were worse than she’d thought, Kimberley realized as she deliberately make an effort to close the bedroom door quietly behind her—or she would slam it so hard she would take it off its hinges and part of the thin wall, as well. What was her cousin’s problem? Kimberley had shared everything with Cheryl on her visits to Barbados. Was it too much to ask for her cousin to show a little of the same love? Kimberley’s thoughts went immediately back to when she was fifteen. Her mother had brought her a beautiful pair of jeans from the US. They had fit Kimberley superbly, just hinting at the womanly curves that were emerging. They had made her feel grown up and she had been saving them for a special occasion. When Cheryl had arrived that summer she had tried them on and they had looked even better on her. She had begged Kimberley to let her wear them to the cinema a week later and Kimberley had reluctantly agreed. Several male cinemagoers had been most appreciative. At the end of the summer Cheryl had used every persuasive tactic she knew to make Kimberley give her the jeans. Sulking hadn’t moved Kimberley, neither had the cold shoulder for hours, but when Cheryl had threatened that she would not come back to Barbados Kimberley had instantly capitulated. The next summer Cheryl started her first job and didn’t come, anyway. Kimberley never found a pair of jeans that she liked as much. Cheryl had married Trenton in Barbados. He was also a British-born Barbadian and it had been practical for the wedding to take place where both the bride and groom had the largest concentration of relatives. Ernest, given the impression that Ignatius was rolling in British pounds, had left his older brother to get on with the arrangements. But Cheryl’s parents had been unaware of how costly things would be in Barbados and soon the money they had assumed would be more than adequate ran out. Looking for ways to reduce costs Ignatius had proposed that they provide a meal for the guests, but have them pay for their own drinks. Horrified Cheryl had confessed his plan to Kimberley, but begged her not to let Ernest know because Ignatius had refused his brother’s earlier offer of help. At the time Kimberley had been saving for a deposit for her own home. She had literally emptied her saving and given the money to her uncle. He had blustered and puffed his chest out, saying that that was the way things were done in UK, that Barbadians needed to move with the times...blah, blah. But he had taken the money and hadn’t ever told her how much of it he had spent on the drinks or given her a cent change. On the wedding day, as the

maid-of-honour Kimberley had watched her smiling cousin and handsome groom and had thought the sacrifice worth it. During the long months that followed, desperate to leave her parents’ house and gain her independence, she hadn’t been quite so sure. Their strict rules had made the extra twenty months at home torturous for a young woman wanting to experience life. She had felt like a bird ready to spread its wings and fly, but held back by overly cautious parents. And since they saw no reason why she should leave their home before she got married, she had to amass every cent of the deposit herself. It had taken a lot of effort and sacrifice.

***

Kimberley took a sip of her now lukewarm coffee and glanced around the cramped room, her brow wrinkling in puzzlement. When had her uncle moved to this smaller place? On her trips to Barbados Cheryl had described their home to her younger cousin in vivid detail. It had sounded like Buckingham Palace, or what Kimberley had imagined the place to be. She had desperately wanted to visit her uncle and see the place for herself. When she was thirteen, after months of pleading with her father, he had asked Ignatius if perhaps Kimberley could visit the UK that summer instead of Cheryl coming to Barbados. His older brother had told him that he and his wife both worked and it would be against the law for Cheryl at fifteen to be left in charge of her younger cousin. Perhaps when Kimberley was a bit older he had suggested, but he had never extended an invitation. Cheryl had never shown Kimberley a picture of the house, but that hadn’t stopped Kimberley from visualizing the splendour, the... Suddenly the penny dropped—this was the same address! Kimberley and Cheryl had exchanged letters for over ten years—until Cheryl had stopped answering Kimberley’s letters, but this was the same address. This was the fabulous house!

Oh my God, Kimberley thought, as everything started to make sense. Cheryl must be mortified at being caught out! She had probably hoped that Kimberley would have taken the hint when she had not been met at the airport on her arrival and caught the next plane back. Weakly Kimberley collapsed back against the pillows and pressed her hand hard against her mouth to trap her laughter. This was probably the four-poster bed that Cheryl had described. And she probably had had a wardrobe full of clothes —it wasn’t a big wardrobe. And you could call it a walk-in. Kimberley could walk in to it, provided she ed to mind her head and not knock her brains out on the low ceiling. It was not funny, Kimberley thought as she sobered. But so what if Cheryl had lied when she was younger? They were grown women now. They could have had a laugh over it and moved on. But her cousin’s words today hinted at a deep-seated envy and resentment that could not be attributed only to her embarrassment. Having a laugh wouldn’t negate the words or venom with which Cheryl had spoken them. There was no other choice. Kimberley had to find somewhere else to live, and fast.

***

Finding a room to rent at short notice was like looking for a needle in a proverbial hay stack, but luck—perhaps too strong a word to describe acquiring the dingy room—was with Kimberley. Neither Cheryl nor Paul was at home that evening as Kimberley packed. She left her cousin a short note apologizing for being an inconvenience, her forwarding address, new phone number and more than enough money to cover the expenses her cousin had incurred on her behalf. Her new flatmates helped her drag her two suitcases into her room when she arrived by mini cab. They were both foreign students: one Italian and the other Mozambican, and both undergraduates in their first year. Both were friendly but as she had noted, when they had given her a tour of the house, neither was housework trained or house proud.

Graciously they offered Kimberley one side of the four-burner electric stove as neither cooked often. Kimberley accepted graciously but donned rubber gloves and gave the entire thing a good scrub, knowing that she could never cook anything on her two burners with layers of burnt-on food, on the ading two. The oven was a lost cause, it was so greasy she didn’t even attempt to clean it. And what would she bake in it, anyway? Next she moved on to the bathroom, which thankfully was nowhere in the state of the kitchen. Once she had disinfected it to her satisfaction she defiantly took a long shower. Take that, cousin Cheryl! Peeling back the covers to remake the bed with her own linens had revealed a stained mattress that would tell a thousand tales if it could talk! Even with a new sheet protector—to protect her from the bed and not the other way round—and two of her own fitted sheets covering it, Kimberley had to will herself to lie on the bed once she had made it. But it was quite comfortable, and she was exhausted. Sleep came easily. Kevin was appalled when she showed him around the flat that Friday when he came to take her to dinner. As he took her overnight bag from her, he rebuked, “You would have been so much more comfortable staying with me.” “I’m enjoying living here with the girls,” she informed him with total honesty. After Cheryl, living with the young women was like being on a holiday. After dinner she and Kevin went to Club Afrique again. The DJ, who hardly looked old enough to gain entry to the club himself, mixed the music so well they didn’t leave until minutes before it closed. When they got to Kevin’s house they were both tired but they made love until the first rays of sunlight filtered through the cedar wood Venetian blinds covering his bedroom windows.

Chapter Eleven

That evening they went to a dance with Anthony and Dawn. Anthony’s parents were Trinidadian and, like Kimberley, Soca was in his blood. Kevin had only just sat down for a breather when Kevin Lyttle’s Turn Me On started playing. Kimberley jumped up again and looked down at Kevin expectantly. He laughed and looked pleadingly across at Anthony. “Help me out, buddy—this woman is going to kill me!” “You Bajans think you can dance, but this Trini will show you a thing or two.” With these words Anthony jumped to his feet, grabbed Kimberley’s hand and headed for the dance floor. They immediately tried to outdo each other, facing each other but not dancing closely. Kevin and Dawn sat watching them, laughing as Anthony had to give up in defeat as Kimberley went lower and lower, until her hips were mere inches off the floor. Dawn laughed aloud and the sound startled Kevin. He looked at her and smiled. Their eyes held and it seemed they really connected for the first time since Kareem’s death. It was a moment Kevin thought he’d all his life. It seemed that Dawn had also recognized the moment and accepted that life was too big for either of them to fight. Kevin felt the residual anger and hurt drain out of his body as he wordlessly reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing her small knuckles against his mouth. She reached over and touched his face with her free hand just before he let go of her hand. Over Anthony’s shoulder Kimberley stared at them in dismay, her feet instinctively keeping the rhythm of the music as her mind reeled. At the end of the song she asked Anthony to excuse her and hastily made her way to the ladies. She rushed into the nearest empty cubicle, locked the door and leaned against it. No matter how much he denied it, Kevin was still in love with his wife! He had probably been so desperate to see her that he had planned this cosy little foursome. Kimberley had known that it would be foolish to fall in love with a man on the

rebound, but she had been convinced that he was finally getting over Dawn. She should had been more cautious, after all he made no secret that Dawn had been the love of his life. What made her think she could replace the woman he had loved for over fifteen years? She had been foolish—once again loving unwisely. Would she ever learn? Something in her posture must have given her away because as she took her seat next to Kevin he whispered, “Are you alright?” She nodded, keeping her lips tightly compressed before she started hurtling abuse at him like she’d lost her mind. Later, as she and Kevin said goodbye to the other couple, and watched as they climbed into Dawn’s new Porsche, Kimberley wondered what was going through his mind. “You’re quiet.” He looked across at her as he moved out of the car park. “Are you sure you’re okay?” “I’m fine...I just have a bit of a headache.” Kevin pulled the car over again and reached for the lever to recline the seat to a more comfortable position. He kissed her temple softly and eased back against the plush headrest. “Close your eyes and rest. We’ll be home soon. I have painkillers in the medicine cabinet.” She felt tears prick her eyelids and turned her head away from him. This is why she’d fallen in love with him—he was so thoughtful, so gentle...and so in love with his damn wife! she thought irritably as she felt herself softening towards him again. He quickly came around to help her out of the car when they’d pulled into his driveway. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he led her into the house as if the headache had rendered her blind. But she was grateful for his ing arm and leaned on him as they made their way carefully up the staircase. When he pushed his bedroom open she stopped abruptly and he looked down at her inquiringly. “Do you mind if I sleep in Shauntay’s bedroom?”

There was a flash of surprise and something closely resembling hurt in his eyes before he quickly responded. “Not at all.” She shouldn’t be justifying herself to him but she found the words coming from her lips of their own volition. “My head’s really throbbing—I think it’s a migraine.” “I’ll get the painkillers.” Kevin hurried along the corridor to his room and impatiently opened the door of the small medicine cabinet in his bathroom. Extracting a box of extra strong painkillers, he punched two of the tablets out of their plastic card container and rushed to the kitchen to grab a glass of water from the filter jug, then took the stairs two at a time as he made his way back up to the spare room. Kimberley was standing by the bed, exactly where he had left her moments ago, but she’d taken her shoes off. He pushed back the duvet on the bed and she slipped under it still fully dressed. “Don’t you want to get undressed first?” he asked as he handed her the tablets and the glass of water. “I’ll do it later. I just need to sleep right now.” She swallowed the tablets one after the other with a few sips of water in between, then drank a little more. Placing the half-filled glass on the bedside table, she lay back against the pillow. Kevin leant down and kissed her mouth softly. “I hope you feel better soon.” He walked to the door, turned and looked at her before he turned off the light and walked back to his room. Was there something about him that made women not want his comfort? Dawn had turned to Anthony when she’d needed a shoulder to cry on. Now all he wanted to do was just hold Kimberley in his arms and let the tablets take effect, but she had made it quite clear that she wanted to be left alone. Then he ed the way she had snuggled back into him as he had tried to ease her sleeping body off his the previous night and a smile parted his lips. He turned and buried his face into the pillow that still held a faint trace of her perfume. Maybe he was taking it the wrong way, maybe her migraine was so severe she couldn’t bear to be touched. The next morning he was sitting at the breakfast bar reading The Sunday Times

and sipping a mug of coffee when she came downstairs dressed in a sleeveless red top and black jeans, her weekend bag slung over her shoulder. Kimberley saw the surprise in his eyes as he looked at the bag and then back at her and felt compelled to give an explanation, “I need to get some reading done for a lecture tomorrow. Do you have the number to the nearest cab office?” “I’ll give you a lift home, but don’t you want something to eat before you leave?” “I’m not hungry.” “Kimberley, what’s the matter?” “I’m fine. I just need to go home to do some studying.” He took her in his arms and kissed her. She didn’t resist, but didn’t respond either. He pulled his head back slightly and looked into her eyes. She held his gaze, deliberately trying to appear indifferent. “Let me grab my car keys.” As soon as he switched on the ignition she turned the radio on and the voice of a Choice FM DJ filled the car as he drove, making conversation impossible. But when they got to the flat she leaned over and the kiss they shared was much more ionate. “I’ll call you,” she promised as she left the vehicle. “Okay.” Kevin felt relieved as he watched her walk into the flat before he started the car and drove off. As she got indoors Kimberley felt like crying. The kiss she had given him was her way of saying goodbye.

***

For the next month she avoided him, refusing all invitations to dinner, to parties, to sleepovers, to everything. Then one Friday she was sitting in the college library when Edward, a Ghanaian student who was also doing the course, stopped by her table and said something hilarious. Trying to stifle her giggles, she glanced furtively at the strict librarian behind the counter and her eyes widened in shock at the sight of Kevin striding across the library heading purposefully towards her. Kimberley introduced the two men and they shook hands briefly. Edward seemed to sense their need for privacy and mumbling something about going to look for a book, he left them together. “How are you?” Kevin asked, holding her gaze. “I’m alright. And you?” “I’m fine, but I would feel even better if you told me exactly what it was that I did to upset you.” “Kevin, you didn’t do anything to me,” she protested. He hadn’t done a thing to her, she had been the one foolish enough to fall in love with a man who still loved his estranged wife. “So why have you been avoiding me?” “I’m not avoiding you. The course is very demanding and I have a lot of reading to do.” “Fine. I’ll wait and give you a lift home. It will be quicker than catching the bus and we can talk on the way.” “Okay.” The last thing she wanted was to talk but she couldn’t think of a good enough excuse for declining his offer of a lift. He knew that she changed buses twice on her way to and from the university each day. It wasn’t a particularly long journey, but she couldn’t get used to the fact that darkness fell so early in the UK. She didn’t feel safe walking in the dark. For the next forty minutes he sat at the table and read The Financial Times while she pretended to get some reading done. She found herself constantly stealing glances at his chiselled profile, but he seemed totally engrossed in his

newspaper. When the librarian announced that the library was closing in fifteen minutes Kimberley closed the book and her notepad and pushed them in her large bag. Before she could hoist it onto her shoulder Kevin took it from her. “I’ll carry it.” Her lips curved as he slung the heavy but obviously feminine bag over his shoulder before helping her with her jacket. He reached for her hand as he headed towards the exit and she wondered in amusement if he thought that she would try to make a run for it. He had parked in one of the expensive parking bays and an overeager parking attendant was already hovering to give him a fine if he’d been even a minute late. “Can we go somewhere for a quick bite?” he asked as he manoeuvred the car out of the tight parking space. “Kevin...” She didn’t want to start it all up again, she had missed him but the course was demanding enough to occupy her time. When her room got too lonely or she was consumed by thoughts of him she simply ed her flatmates in the mismatched living room. She didn’t know when they made time to study but their lives seemed to be one endless party. “You have to eat, don’t you?” Again she couldn’t argue with his logic. “Okay, a quick bite.” The ‘quick bite’ turned out to be a three-course meal at an Indian restaurant not far from her shared flat. She expected him to bring up the topic of her avoiding him again but other than ask about her course and when last she had spoken to her parents the meal was eaten in silence. But when he parked his car in front of the flat he turned off the engine, undid his seatbelt and turned to face her. “Kimberley, what did I do wrong?” he asked quietly. “Nothing.” “Come on, be honest with me. Except for the headache you seemed fine when we left the dance, but something happened between then and the next morning.

I’ve been racking my brain trying to come up with an answer—one minute we were at the party having fun, the next minute you—” “Kevin, I saw the way you were looking at Dawn all night!” Kimberley hadn’t wanted to sound like a jealous shrew. She hadn’t wanted to discuss the matter, but he had to go and open the still-raw wound. “I refuse to play cosy foursomes just so you can get a chance to see your wife!” “Kimberley!” His shock at her outburst seemed genuine. His next question almost made her doubt the evidence she had seen with her own eyes, “Do you really think that I would use you in such an underhand way?” “Kevin...” she began and stopped. He was furious at her accusation! “Kimberley, I have never lied to you about my feelings for Dawn, but she’s with Anthony now and I have to move on.” “So what happens if she suddenly decided to come back to you? Where would that leave me?” “I doubt very much that Dawn would come back to me.” His answer was like a dart aimed at Kimberley’s heart; Dawn would always be first. If she decided that she wanted Kevin back nothing would stand in her way, not Kimberley or any other woman. “It’s ironic—she needed to be free of me to stop grieving and move on...the only time I stop grieving is when I see her.” Kevin chuckled mirthlessly, “Seeing her, knowing that she shares and understands my pain comforts me in a strange way. Kareem was ours...a part of both of us. When I see her—” He shook his head and stopped talking abruptly. “So, what if she decided to come back to you?” “Honestly?” He turned and gave her one of his devastating smiles—one that revealed the slight dimple in his taut cheek. “Yes.” Kimberley held her breath. “I would have her back just to rub Anthony’s nose in it.”

“Kevin!” “Joking!” But he was no longer smiling. “These past months—since she’s been with Anthony—she’s looked almost like her old self again and not like she’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He’s been good for her,” Kevin itted. “I don’t see her as my wife anymore, but she was Kareem’s mother and that I’m finding a little harder to let go of.” “Maybe you need a little more time to—” “Kimberley, I know what I feel for you is amplified because right now I need to be close to someone, but I swear I’m not using you to drown my pain.” “I wish we hadn’t slept together. I think it has complicated everything,” Kimberley sighed. “You’re still more in love with Dawn than you realize. You need time to get over her.” “If you believe that then you will agree that I need someone to help me get over her,” Kevin smiled as she was caught neatly in a trap of her own making. “And though, it will be incredibly hard—pun intended—I promise that I won’t make love to you if you don’t want me to.” He spoke as if making love with her was a choice for him—for her if had been as necessary as breathing. “Kevin, I don’t think seeing each other is a good idea.” “I disagree. You need a break from studying occasionally. Let me show you around London, let’s enjoy a meal together sometimes or simply talk on the phone whenever you have the time.” Kimberley was torn, she would get over him if she kept her distance. But being with him this evening had made her felt more alive than she had done in weeks. He had proven that he could keep their relationship platonic and if she did the same there was no reason why they couldn’t enjoy each other’s company. “OK,” she agreed. “Whenever I’m free I’ll let you know.”

***

She flew to Barbados to spend Christmas with her parents because surprisingly she’d missed them. And as ridiculously childish as it sounded, it would have been the first time she hadn’t spent the holidays with them. Kevin spent the holidays with Deanne and her family and it was almost as if he hadn’t ever left her home to get married. Shauntay demanded his attention constantly, giving him little time for reflection or regret, and when he returned home after New Year’s Day he felt physically and emotionally stronger than he had felt in almost eighteen months. On her return Kimberley settled back into university life. True to his word Kevin took her to see all the major sights in the capital, including her favourite, The London Eye. They also enjoyed several lazy Sundays picnicking in Hyde Park. On Bank Holiday Monday at the end of May Kevin bought tickets for a soca extravaganza at the Forum in North West London. The venue closing time was strictly enforced and the regulars knew they had only up until midnight to party and not a minute more. When Kimberley and Kevin got there at eight the party was in full swing, young and old, were all having a great time. Only soca music was played and even Kimberley had to stop to draw breath after two hours of sustained whiining. She was standing with one arm around Kevin, sipping a chilled glass of lemonade, when she felt his body tighten like a coiled spring. She followed the direction of his gaze and saw Anthony and Dawn walking towards them. As they got closer she realized that there was something different about Dawn. Then it hit her—the woman was pregnant! “Are you two just arriving?” Kevin asked as he bent to kiss Dawn’s cheek. “Yes, I fell asleep and Anthony didn’t wake me up!” Dawn complained as she turned to greet Kimberley. “You needed the sleep, honey.” Anthony’s voice was full of indulgence. Kimberley didn’t dare glance up at Kevin to see his reaction.

“Hi, Dawn.” Kimberley bent to kiss the woman’s offered cheek, hoping that the smile she had plastered on her face looked convincing because it was costing a lot of effort to keep it in place. Before the couple had arrived Kimberley had been having more fun than she’d ever had in the UK, but now even the familiar beat of some of her favourite songs didn’t lift the heaviness that had settled around her heart and limbs. Anthony and Dawn prudently danced in a quiet corner, away from the heaving crowd in the middle of the floor, while Kimberley and Kevin reed the group. He seemed to be having a good time but every time Kimberley ed his unconscious reaction to Dawn she felt like someone was squeezing the breath out of her body. It was scary to think that he could be such an expert at hiding his true feelings. She was ionate about things and found his cool British reserve unnerving sometimes. Dawn and Anthony left after an hour or so. Kimberley knew that it was probably her overactive imagination, but Kevin seemed to be dancing much closer to her now that Dawn had left. She tried to enjoy the closeness of his embrace and not let unwanted thoughts mar the sweet sensations that flowed through her as his body brushed hers. When they left just before midnight, he held her hand as they walked to the quiet street where he’d finally found a parking space when they’d arrived earlier. “Was that enough Soca for you?” he asked with a smile as he buckled his seatbelt. “More than enough, thank you!” She laughed, and then because she couldn’t put off the question for another minute, she asked, “Did you know that Dawn was pregnant?” “Yes, Anthony told me,” he itted, his face sobering. From his reaction earlier she had wondered if it was as much as a surprise for him as it had been for her. “But seeing her in the flesh shocked me for a moment. It reminded me of when she was pregnant with Kareem and how happy we were then.” “Oh.” Kimberley could have kicked herself for asking the question as they drove for miles in complete silence.

When they got to the flat she turned to kiss him goodbye, the usual peck that they had reverted to. But he surprised her by pulling her close and kissing her properly. The touch of his lips evoked the ion of the glorious nights she had spent in his arms and she returned his kiss hungrily. When his hand came up between them to cup her breast, she sighed and pressed it against his palm. He caressed her as if he was touching her for the first time and impatiently she parted the wrap-over front of her top, leaving her sheer lacy bra the only thing between his hand and her aching breast. His fingers found the hard pearl of her nipple and tweaked it firmly. She felt the answering tingle between her thighs. Moaning softly as his lips left hers to tug on her taut nipple through the softlyabrasive lace, she ran her hand down his side, inwards to his groin and along the swollen ridge of his erection. “I think we’d better stop before things get out of hand.” Kevin straightened abruptly and sat back in his seat. The suddenness of his withdrawal made her stomach cramp. Looking across at him as she pulled her top back into place, she was shocked to see that his eyes were cool. If she hadn’t felt the evidence of his arousal she would have thought that he had just jumped into the vehicle after a stroll in the park. How could he seem icy cold above the neck and be hot and throbbing below the waist? Burning with desire, she had even forgotten that they were in his car, parked in full view of a public road. Even now while he looked in full control, her breathing was ragged, her blood still heated with ion. “’Night, Kevin,” she mumbled as she opened the car door. “Good night, Kimberley.” She got out the vehicle and walked with as much dignity as she could muster to the front door. Her hands were shaking, but she managed to get the key in the lock on the first try and turned to wave at him, before slipping inside and leaning against the door. She waited for the purring sound of the luxury car made as the engine was fired, but it didn’t come. Finally, she squinted through the peephole in the door. He was sitting with his head on the steering wheel in the darkened car. Concerned

that he was too tired to drive himself home, she was just about to go back out to him, when he started the engine and quickly drove off. She took a quick shower and crawled under the duvet, her thoughts in disarray. She had wanted a platonic relationship, but it was unflattering, embarrassing, that he could turn his desire for her on and off so easily. She would keep her distance in future. Over the next four months they went to dinner five times and the theatre twice. She felt proud of the way she’d learned to act almost disionately in his presence. Bank holiday Monday, the last week in August he took her to the Nottingham Carnival. It couldn’t compare to the Crop Over Festival, but she had a wonderful time nevertheless, with the bright sunshine, the crowd and the music it was almost like being back home again. Almost, but not quite.

Chapter Twelve

Kimberley couldn’t believe her course was over or that she was leaving the UK in four days. Although she had thrown herself into her study mainly to distract herself from thoughts of Kevin, she had really enjoyed the challenge of it. Now with nothing to occupy them her thoughts were once again consumed by him. He had asked her to spend the evening before she left for Barbados with him and she had agreed readily. Now she just had to fill the hours until then. She had already laundered her clothes and packed the items she was taking back with her. The rest, clothing that would be unsuitable for the sunnier weather she had given to a nearby charity shop, since both of her flatmates were petite women. Biting the bullet, she called Cheryl—it was her cousin’s day off, so she was likely to be at home. They hadn’t spoken in almost ten months but Kimberley couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Cheryl answered the phone sounding more like her old self. And later when Kimberley went to collect the small parcel Cheryl was sending for her parents, Kimberley was pleased to see that her cousin had regained some of the weight she’d lost. “Kim, I’m so sorry for the way I acted when you came to stay here. Paul had just moved in and I thought we needed time alone. I know that the flat belongs to my parents but I was furious at my father for asking you to stay when you could easily afford to rent somewhere else,” Cheryl blurted out as they sipped cups of coffee in her living room. “Cheryl, all you had to do was say so. I wasn’t comfortable living here with the two of you either. This flat is not soundproof and you two were like rabbits but noisier!” Kimberley scolded and they both folded over with laughter. “Sorry. Paul is a little loud, isn’t he?” “Don’t blame Paul, you are just as bad!” As they sobered Cheryl avoided Kimberley’s gaze. “I was jealous because he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.” “He wasn’t interested in me,” Kimberley denied hotly.

“He said he wasn’t.” Cheryl laughed again. “He and I had a big quarrel when you left. He was furious at the way I had treated you. When I accused him of being attracted to you, he told me that I was being paranoid. When I asked him why the hell he’d kept looking at you, he told me that you reminded him of me when he had first met me. Would you believe that I was trying to lose weight, trying to be a size zero and all along he liked me just the way I was when we met!” Their laughter was reminiscent of the giggles they had shared on her visits to Barbados and as Kimberley hugged her cousin goodbye a few hours later, she was relieved that they had made up. But not made up fully—Cheryl hadn’t discussed the fantasies she had weaved about her life in the UK to her cousins years ago. Maybe she was still embarrassed by them. Hopefully her embarrassment would fade with time. Maybe when they were old and grey, they would sit and laugh at each other. One for telling the outrageous lies and the other for being gullible enough to believe them.

***

Kimberley called Kevin’s mobile number as she walked to the bus stop. When he answered, his deep voice caressing her eardrums, her silly heart fluttered, as it did every time. “Hi, are you busy?” “Never too busy for you,” he asserted. “Do you want to pick me up on your way home? I have nothing left to do—?” “I’ll be there in an hour.” “I’m not even home at the moment,” she protested laughingly. “And don’t you have appointments this afternoon?” “I can cancel them.” “I can’t leave until the girls come home anyway. I must say goodbye to them.”

“Alright, I’ll be there at about six. Be ready!” “I’ll be,” she promised. “See you later.” She found herself humming Turn Off the Lights as she packed the last of her toiletries away. She made one final check to ensure that she hadn’t left anything before ing her flatmates for a glass of wine. She had thought long and hard about spending time with Kevin before leaving. Though she wished that he loved her as much as she loved him, she couldn’t deny the sexual attraction between them. Images of their lovemaking instead of fading and becoming distant memories remained crystal clear, so she decided to add to those memories and hope they lasted a lifetime. When she got back to Barbados, the sunshine, the sand, the sea and soca music, and everything that was familiar, would mend the broken pieces of her heart.

***

The first thing she noticed when she walked into Kevin’s house was the large magnum of champagne chilling in an ice bucket. She stopped in surprise and asked, “What are we celebrating?” “Your MBA, of course,” Kevin informed her as he carted the first of her suitcases up to the spare bedroom. Had he been unclear about what she meant when she’d said that she wanted to spend the remaining time with him? “I’m going to have a shower.” He kissed her lingeringly and then released her. “Get dressed, I have a special dinner planned for you.” Kimberley showered again and slipped into the white halter dress she’d worn the night they’d had dinner at the Bajan Blue restaurant and then gone for a walk on the beach. Kevin had been busy when she’d been getting ready, she noted. He’d showered

and changed and was now setting out the Chinese takeaway that had just been delivered on the table. He turned and looked at her as she walked into the room, his eyes lighting up when he saw the halter dress. “Need help?” she asked as she approached, her mouth watering as the aroma of food wafted towards her. “I’m almost done.” Kevin grabbed the champagne and popped the cork with an almighty bang. He filled two glasses with the effervescent liquid and handed one to her. “Congratulations on your MBA, sweetheart.” “Thank you.” She took a tiny sip, her throat tight with emotion. He had never called her ‘sweetheart’ before. “Right, let’s eat food before the food gets cold.” After the meal, Kevin led her to the living room, pressed the remote control and the first song he had carefully programmed into the CD player filtered through the slimline but powerful speakers. He put his arms around her and held her tightly as they moved slowly to the music. When he lowered his head, she parted her lips invitingly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside and caress hers. His hands skimmed the skin of her back as the kiss went on and on. Her aroused breasts pressing into his hard chest was sweet torture. His erection pressing into the lee of her thighs caused even sweeter torment. Seductively she tilted her hips upwards and moved them sinuously against his, fuelling his ardour. Instantly he pulled his lips away from hers and whispered harshly, “Let’s go upstairs.” He was back in control of himself by the time they got there. Slowly, he undid the bow that held her top together and revealed her breasts. Then he reached around her body and slid the short zip downwards. As the dress pooled around her ankles he whispered, “I’ve wanted to do that since that first night on the beach.” He looked at her for a second, drinking in the magnificent curves of her body before he bent to encircle her nipple with his tongue. Kimberley moaned his name as he teased the erect bud. Her legs turned to jelly and she grasped his shoulders for . Swinging her up in his arms, he walked over to the bed and laid her back against the pillows, and then started to

undress. Impatiently, she sat up to help him. He was fully, beautifully aroused and responding purely by instinct she covered him softly with her lips. She continued for a few moments, his groaning appreciation audible in the quiet room, before he pulled her up and kissed her. “Tonight it’s about mutual pleasure,” he whispered against her lips as he climbed onto the bed to her. He lay back against the pillows and she positioned herself against him as she once again took him between her lips. The sinful flick of his tongue against the bud of her womanhood sent shivers darting through her body. She muffled her cries of pleasure against his engorged flesh, but he tormented the tender flesh until she had to lift her head to gasp his name. Weakly she tied to pull herself away from him, but he held her firmly in place and continued relentlessly until an orgasm raced through her. He sat up and held her close until the tremors subsided, then laid her back against the pillows and kissed her hungrily, fiercely plunging his tongue into her mouth, re-igniting the flame of desire. When he moved down to the erect peaks of her breast she reached blindly into the drawer for a condom. Tearing the packet open quickly, she handed the condom to him and said, “I need you inside me, now.” He responded swiftly to her plea, slipping it over his rigid length and immediately sheathing himself in her warmth. He groaned as her snug warmth threatened his control. But out of control was exactly how Kimberley wanted him. She wanted him totally undone. She raised her legs and clasped his slim hips between them as she lifted herself and met him boldly stroke for stroke, her hips undulating with increasing speed. Dipping her head, she tongued his small tight nipple and he groaned. She pressed her mouth more firmly against him, teasing the tight bud as she arched herself so that he could plunge more deeply inside her. Within minutes he stiffened; her name on his lips as he reached his climax was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.

***

Kevin leaving her things in the spare bedroom had been an incredibly brilliant move, Kimberley acknowledged as she stood under the spray of the shower. It was her last night in the UK and every moment of the last three days and two nights had been more wonderful than she’d imagined. They hadn’t left the house. They had cooked, talked and made ionate love, sleeping only when absolutely necessary. They had taken showers together in the mornings but last night, like the first, she had showered and dressed in the spare room. Kevin had been waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes widening in appreciation as he had taken in her strapless red dress. After smoothing Chanel No5 lotion onto her damp skin she sprayed the perfume liberally into the air and walked naked into the mist.

***

When Kevin heard her footsteps, he got off the chair to meet her at the bottom of the stairs and his body hardened at the sight of her in the bronze dress that had given him many restless nights. His memories paled into insignificance at the sight of the living, breathing embodiment of his fantasies. Surely, she hadn’t looked this good on that first night? His eyes ate her up as she came slowly towards him and it suddenly clicked. She wasn’t wearing a bra underneath it this time. “You look good enough to eat.” “So do you.” In a long-sleeved olive shirt and hunter green, tailored slacks he looked suave enough to grace the cover of a men’s magazine. “I love you.” He bent and kissed her hungrily. It was the first time he’d said the words and when he lifted his lips from his assault on hers she whispered, “I love you, too.” “Then marry me.” Sudden tears sprung to her eyes as he dropped to one knee in front of her, pulled a burgundy velvet-covered box from the pocket of his slacks and flipped it open. The square-cut diamond sparkled in the soft light. “Kevin!”

“Is that a yes?” He smiled as he straightened and wrapped his arms around her. She pressed her face into his shoulder as the tears overwhelmed her. He held her tightly and as the sobs continued he realized with growing dread that her answer wouldn’t be the one that he had anticipated. Finally she raised her head and he saw the regret in her tear-washed eyes before she said, “Kevin, I love you and nothing would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you, but I’m an island girl. I have enjoyed being in the UK, but I can’t live here. I feel stifled, half-alive. I couldn’t endure another winter. I miss the beach and the sunshine...and my parents. I’m sorry.”

***

Kimberley clung to Kevin as he kissed her goodbye at the airport the next morning. “You’ll miss the flight if you don’t go now.” He gently disengaged himself from her arms and looked down at her. His eyes looked almost as red as hers from sleeplessness and she was filled with the same guilt that had consumed her since she had turned down his proposal the previous night. “Safe trip. Call me when you get there.” Her throat was so tight she opened her mouth and no words came out. She nodded before she turned blindly and walked through the gates to Immigration Control. Her eyes filled as she turned to wave him goodbye for the last time. The flight was never ending. She knew that she was being monstrously selfish, but a year in the UK had been enough to convince her that living there would make her sink into depression. The weather had had a profound effect on her moods. It had been hard for her to feel anything but gloomy on overcast days. But other people endure it, why can’t you? she asked herself in despair as the plane cruised at altitude. Kevin’s proposal had completely shocked her and later when they were lying in bed she’d felt compelled to ask him about his coldness, his aloofness, his lack of

ion during the last nine months. “The night you accused me of using you to get over Dawn, I decided to prove to you, and perhaps to myself, that it wasn’t all about sex. I knew that it would be tough, but I had just managed a year without sex, so I knew that I could endure another one if I had to. I didn’t cater for the memories of the mind-blowing sex we’d shared. Being around you was torture, but I couldn’t be without you. God, that night after the Forum I was so aroused I couldn’t drive away for about five minutes! All I wanted to do was kick the door down and make love to you until I was too weak to even lift a finger.” “I’d thought you were sleepy! I had been just about to come back to see if you were okay when you drove off.” “Sleep was the last thing on my mind!” He had laughed and squeezed her tightly. “If you had come back outside I wouldn’t have been responsible for my actions.” Then he had rolled with her in his arms until she was on top of him. “And several words of advice, my sweet—don’t ride another man unless you plan to marry him. It could drive him insane. It’s too late for me, so ride me into oblivion.”

***

Kevin climbed the stairs wearily, dropped his car keys on his bedside table and threw himself facedown on his bed. Things hadn’t turned out as he’d anticipated. He’d imagined Kimberley flying home with his engagement ring on her finger. And then, him going to Barbados at Christmas to marry her and bring her back to reside with him in the UK. He missed her already. She had given him a new appreciation of life and brought out a side that had lain dormant. Walking with her by his side he’d felt other men’s eyes on her and he revelled in it. Yet, in the past if any guy so much as looked at Dawn he would have been ready to poke his eyes out. He hadn’t gone clubbing in years, had forgotten how much he used to enjoy partying, until

Kimberley had reminded him. When she was around him he couldn’t think of anything or anyone else. She had helped him accept the painful memories of the past and look forward to the future with hope instead of despair. Dawn, like her name, was cool and calm; Kimberley was heat and fire. Life with her would never be dull. She was confident enough to argue with him, yet gracious enough to agree to disagree with him. Dawn had been responsive in bed, but she’d never initiated sex. Before Kimberley, he’d never realized how powerful it felt to have a woman want him. Kimberley’s sexual appetite matched his perfectly. She would probably demand her conjugal rights, if necessary! Yet, he had no doubt that she would remain faithful in a relationship. Life with Dawn had been tranquil and he had enjoyed the quiet. Life with Kimberley would be a rollercoaster, but what a ride it would be! Getting older with her wouldn’t mean becoming staid; life would keep evolving. And it was perhaps Karma, Kevin finally acknowledged, that Anthony and Dawn were now together. Anthony had been wildly excited that day when he had first met Dawn. He must have actually fallen in love at first sight, ridiculous as that sounded. But then Kevin had seen Dawn and he had wanted her for himself. There had been something eerie about their silence on their way home that day—there had never before been a time when they hadn’t had something to talk about. Kevin had felt restless that night, filled with regret at hurting his friend, yet too young and too selfish to give up what he wanted for anyone. The next day Anthony had seemed his usual self and Kevin had been relieved. But maybe his act of selfishness that day had set in motion a series of events that should have never been. Fifteen years later he had only done what Anthony had done when they were fifteen—given up Dawn, his heart’s desire, to make his best friend happy. And in doing so Kevin had freed himself of the guilt he had buried deep inside him. And found that second love could be as good or better than the first.

***

The days Kevin spent in Barbados with Kimberley, were some of the best in recent memory, but he knew that living there permanently would be a different matter. He liked the order and efficiency of British society and had never considered living anywhere else. However, Barbados was economically stable and what he did in London he could technically do there, though not on the same scale. It would take a lot of time and serious hard work to become established. It would be a challenge. And he had never run from one. Kevin called the High Commission and booked an appointment for the following day. When he left, less than an hour after arriving, he was satisfied with the outcome of the interview. He had presented a concrete, well-structured business plan, but it had helped immensely that he had substantial capital to invest and owned business and personal property in the UK. And that he’d had Bajan grandparents. The days following were hectic. He ed a reputable property management agency to oversee the renting of his furnished house. Dawn had refused her rightful share of their marital home when she had divorced Kevin, saying that she didn’t want him to sell the house to pay her off. Kevin knew that she felt responsible for the breakdown of their marriage and therefore didn’t feel entitled to a share of the spoils. And although he had been the one to pay off the mortgage early, he was fully aware that a good divorce lawyer could have taken not only half of his house but a large portion of his business as well. Realistically Anthony was as wealthy as Kevin and would comfortably provide for Dawn, but Kevin felt she deserved, if nothing else, half the market value of the house. She had contributed equally to the household expenses in the first years when he was trying to get the business off the ground. Kevin had debated simply depositing the equivalent sum in her personal saving , but he knew that she would simply transfer it back. Anthony and Dawn married quietly at a registry in Chelsea, close to the home where they now lived. Looking at them standing together after the ceremony Kevin thought that somehow they fitted. Anthony seemed relaxed and happier than Kevin could ever seeing him. Dawn seemed more confident, as though she had finally become a fully-grown woman. Kevin had wrapped her up in cotton wool, he realized with a start, maybe he’d smothered her, stopped her from growing. Or perhaps like him, the last two years had removed the

innocence from her eyes and toughened her. In deference to Kareem there was no reception after the wedding. Kevin invited everyone back to his house and there he and the now heavily-pregnant Dawn shared the heartrending task of sorting through Kareem’s things. He let her take as many items as she needed before he chose a few mementoes of his own and let his sisters, their children, Dawn’s parents and her brothers and Anthony do the same. That night after everyone had left Kevin stood in the almost empty room, his head filled with memories of his son. If, or when, he had another child, he vowed, he would be a more hands-on father. He had always tried to get home before Kareem’s bedtime. Whenever he’d walked through the front door Kareem had always looked up and said, “Dada?” And as soon as Kevin responded, “Yes, it’s Dada,” Kareem would run to him and he’d lift him in the air and spin him around and around. Fresh from his bath and smelling of baby powder and lotion, Kareem would wrap his chubby arms around his father’s neck and laugh with glee. He and Dawn had always been amused by the fact that their son had seemed to be asking the question, “Dada?” rather than stating a fact, “Dada!” Since his death Kevin was often tormented by the fact that Kareem might have been genuinely unsure that Kevin was indeed ‘Dada’. He had worked long hours and on the weekends he had been more likely to be in his study working than playing with his son. When Kareem had started uttering his first words Dawn had taped them so that Kevin wouldn’t miss the experience. And equally because they’d both found the playback amusing and because they thought it a good idea to document each stage of Kareem’s development, Dawn had continued to tape him regularly. These recordings and the hundreds of photographs they had taken of Kareem were precious, tangible evidence of their son who had burned as brightly as a flame before his light was extinguished. The only comfort was that his death had been instantaneous. He hadn’t suffered. His death had taught Kevin hard lessons and revealed his own strengths and weaknesses. His life had been fairly untroubled—he had lost no one close except his grandparents who had all been elderly and living in Barbados by the time he was born. He’d felt a vague sense of loss each time his parents had received news of a parent ing and had attended the funerals of both grandmothers, who had managed to outlive their spouses by several years, but had died within eight months of each other when Kevin was twelve. He hadn’t known them well enough to truly mourn them, but he had grieved for his parents

and his sisters who had by then been married with families of their own and had previously gone to the island for holidays and to visit their grandparents. So, when Death took his precious son and Kevin had survived the unimaginable loss, it had taught him something about his phenomenal strength. And revealed his vulnerability—so little stood between him and the randomness of death. He could have chosen to be bitter and twisted about Dawn and Anthony, but life really was too short not to be lived as if each moment were the last. Maybe he might have felt differently if he hadn’t met Kimberley, he acknowledged. But he had, thank God! And despite the pain he’d endured, Kevin longed to be a father again. He had wanted another baby to fill the void the Kareem had left, but Dawn had been too consumed with grief. Kevin was grateful now that he’d had the time to grieve for his son properly. He would never forget him, but he could now move on, taking the memories of his smiling firstborn wherever he went. Dawn had agreed that he should use the money she’d refused to do something special in Kareem’s name. He didn’t know what it would be yet, but he’d consider the options carefully—a refurnished playground or nursery or something that benefited poor children, something that would celebrate the sheer joy Kareem’s short life and give meaning to his loss. It was still hard to think of his son without thinking of the devastation his death had caused, but deep inside Kevin knew that that day would come.

Chapter Thirteen

Exactly two weeks after she’d returned to Barbados, Kimberley sat staring out the living room window, lost in thought as she moved slowly backwards and forwards in the rocking chair that had once belonged to her late grandfather. There was an infinitesimal pause as Natalie Cole’s Miss You Like Crazy repeated and flowed through the speakers of her father’s prized sound system. Last night for the first time since she had returned to Barbados Kevin hadn’t called. Finally she had called him, worried that something had happened to him. She got his answer machine. And his mobile phone had been switched off. She had given up all rights to him, yet the thought of him with another woman hurt more than she could stand. She’d been the one to decide that she couldn’t live in the UK, now all he was probably doing was trying to get on with his life. She would be happy for him—if it didn’t hurt so much. Barbados hadn’t felt as welcoming as she’d anticipated. The sunshine hadn’t chased the gloom. She had returned to work, glad to have something to occupy her time in between waiting for Kevin’s nightly phone calls. Going to the After Dark Nightclub with Brenda hadn’t made her feel better, it had been too filled with memories of being there with Kevin. For the first time in her life Kimberley realized that she’d been too pampered. She’d always protested vehemently when people told her that she was spoiled rotten—she had never thrown a tantrum or acted petulantly in her life. Her parents had provided for her perhaps more adequately than average parents, but they had not given her every little thing her heart desired. But she’d never had to share them; she’d had their love all to herself. She had never had to sacrifice anything for anyone. It was time for sacrifices. She had to give up her beloved Barbados, for another beloved. Sunny Barbados with no Kevin—for cold London with Kevin. Sunshine only warmed her on the outside, Kevin warmed her inside. Her parents would miss her and she would miss them, but she missed Kevin more. Her parents had a solid relationship—if their marriage was a cake, she was the cherry on the top and not one of the main ingredients.

She hadn’t realized that it was possible to miss someone so much it hurt to breathe, hurt to.... The intercom buzzed loudly, interrupting her dismal thoughts. She uncurled her legs and went to answer it. “Ms Collins, there’s someone here to see you.” “To see me?” she asked in puzzlement. No one ever visited her except Brenda and she walked straight up to the front door. “Yes, he says his name is Kevin—” Kimberley dropped the receiver and rushed to the door. Kevin was standing behind the closed gate. Smiling so widely she could have split her face in two, she started running down the driveway like an Olympic sprinter, barely feeling the heat of the sun-baked cobbled driveway under her bare feet. The security guard seeing the smile of welcome on her face, opened the gate. Kevin came through it and caught her up in his arms as she raced into them. Ignoring the security guard, he kissed her like her life, or his, depended on it. “What are you doing here?” Kimberley asked breathlessly, when he finally let her come up for air. “Do you want to grab some shoes?” He ignored her question as he swung her up in his arms and headed to the house. As soon as he put her down when he got to the front door, she ran up to her bedroom, picked up a pair of slippers, grabbed her bag and raced back down the steps, still thinking it was a dream. Kevin took her hand and led her purposefully down the driveway. Urging her into the back of the vehicle, he got in beside her and instructed the driver to proceed. And as the car turned onto the main road, he covered her lips with his again. A discreet cough from the driver signalled their arrival at the Sandy Lane Hotel and Kevin reluctantly raised his head. Minutes later they were alone in his room. “I need a shower, but you’ll have to me because I don’t want to let you go,”

Kevin whispered against her lips as he unbuttoned her patterned cotton blouse and slipped it off her shoulders. “I don’t want to let you go, either,” she responded, grabbing the hem of his polo shirt and pulling it off over his head. He pushed her shorts down her long legs and she stepped out of them as she reached out to unbutton his jeans and push them downwards too. He kicked them aside as his eyes drank in the sight of her in a white lacy bra and matching thong. “You are so beautiful, you take my breath away.” She reached behind her, unhooked her bra and slipped the straps down her arms. They stepped out of their last item of clothing together. Kimberley had almost forgotten how good he looked naked. She bit her bottom lip as she gazed at his openly aroused body. “Now I’m the one breathless,” she whispered as she reached out and stroked his rigid length. He threw his head back and she caught the glint of his teeth as his lips parted in a hiss of arousal. “Yes, yes!” he encouraged, thrusting his hips forwards and backwards as she continued to stroke him. “I’ll never get used to how luscious these are.” He covered the warm flesh of her breasts with his hands. The nipples peaked with just one brush of his fingers across them. With an appreciative murmur he bent and pulled one into his mouth, tugging on it firmly as she continued to run her hands up and down the silk-clad steel of his erection. She pressed her pelvis against his as he nibbled the underside of her other breast before covering that nipple with the wet heat of his mouth. Her breathless moans filled the air as he reached down and ran his fingers over the mound of her femininity. He found the heated evidence that she was far from indifferent to his caresses. “Woman, you are too much of a temptation.” he said hoarsely as he lifted her up in his arms and positioned her against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sank onto him, moaning as his wonderful length filled her satisfyingly.

“I missed you so much!” she sobbed the words into his neck as she wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him even deeper into her body. “I missed you too, baby.” He walked over to the bed, laid her back against it and took her in a fury of ion that confirmed the veracity of his words. When her orgasm ripped through her she had to sink her nails into his broad shoulders, to anchor her less she drifted too far into the sea of sensation. Kevin’s climax was equally explosive. He lay against her for long moments, trying to get his breath back. Finally he raised his head, his eyes filled with the afterglow of ion and said, “Let’s have that shower because I intend to make love to you for the rest of the day.” The shower cubicle was heavy with anticipation as they soaped each other’s bodies, torn between the need to fondle, caress or nibble delectable body parts and the desire to get back to the large, comfortable bed as quickly as possible.

***

Kimberley snuggled her sated body even closer to Kevin’s in the darkness of the room. Neither had bothered to switch the light on when the evening shadows had gathered. “When are you going back?” The question had been on her lips since he had turned up unexpectedly four hours ago but she was still afraid of the answer. “When do you want me to go back?” he countered. “Never.” “OK.” “Don’t tease me, please!” She laid her head against his chest. “I can’t bear another goodbye. I’m coming back to the UK with you.” “Yes, you will be coming back with me when I go back on business in six

months’ time. These last two weeks have been torture.” “Six months?” She couldn’t believe that she’d heard him correctly. “You’re here for six months?” “No. I’m here permanently. I plan to go back on business every six months or so.” “Kevin! Why didn’t you say something sooner?” “Because we were too busy doing other things,” he reminded her. He switched on the reading lamp and reached for his briefcase. “I believe you left this in the UK accidentally,” he said, as he slipped the engagement ring over her finger. “Yes I did,” she agreed, pulling his head down and kissing him. “Thank you for bringing it for me.” “Now I think that we should eat something other than each other.” Kevin smiled as he pulled his lips away from hers. “I also think that you should let your parents know that the man who kidnapped you earlier today is their future sonin-law and that there will be no ransom demand to pay.” “Oh my God!” Kimberley grabbed her cellular from her bag and speed-dialled her parents’ phone number. She had completely forgotten to call them and she had no idea what Clive, the elderly security guard had told them. “Mum?” she asked in surprise when her mother’s sleepy voice answered the phone. “Are you in bed?” “I was just about to drift off. Clive told us that your British man had come and taken you away, so your father and I had dinner and retired early.” “I’ll see you tomorrow, sleep well.” Kimberley laughed as she closed the phone. Here she was thinking that her parents were up, worried sick about her! What could they be doing in bed at eight in the evening? One night she wasn’t there to chaperone them and they.... Parents!

***

The following evening Kimberley left Kevin talking to her parents as she went upstairs to get dressed. The introduction had gone well, her parents didn’t seem bothered that Kevin was British. Of course, him casually mentioning that all four of his grandparents had been Bajan hadn’t hurt. When she came down dressed in a strapless black dress, her feet in high-heeled sandals and a tantalising length of thigh visible through the risqué slit of her knee-length dress, Kevin and her father were enthusiastically discussing Kevin’s business plans. “My wife and I were just about to sit down to dinner, we would love you to us, Kevin,” her father invited. “Thank you, Mr Collins, but I’m afraid I have to decline. I’ve planned a rather romantic dinner for Kimberley.” “No problem, son. You and I will finish our discussion later. You two have a good time.” “Thanks, Daddy.” Kimberley tugged Kevin’s arm impatiently. “Good night, Mr and Mrs Collins,” Kevin threw over his shoulder as he slipped through the door behind her. “Slow down,” he told her as she walked hurriedly towards her vehicle. “I’m making sure that you don’t change your mind and stay here for dinner instead.” “Even if your parents were having ambrosia I would turn it down for the pleasure of your company and the anticipation of taking that dress off you.”

Chapter Fourteen

One month later. Kevin raised Kimberley’s long-fingered hand to his lips, their matching wedding bands glinting in the Hawaiian sunshine as they lay together on a beach towel. “I still can’t believe your mother pulled off that wedding in just one month!” “I know,” Kimberley sighed. “I had hoped the short notice wouldn’t have given her time to plan anything too lavish, but I underestimated her.” Kimberley’s mother hadn’t been happy with planning a wedding on short notice, but with a style and a grace that was typical of her, she had pulled it together flawlessly—their wedding two days prior had been a sumptuous affair that would be fondly ed by the guests. Kimberley had protested as the list of invitees had increased alarmingly, but Kevin had reminded her that she was her parents’ only child. It was their prerogative to spend whatever they chose to on her wedding. And, he had said, unless she had planned to divorce him, it would be the only wedding her mother would have the opportunity of planning. So, Kimberley had stopped protesting and had instead concentrated on enjoying the experience. Kevin’s parents had been equally put out by the lack of notice. They had flown to Barbados as soon as he had told them of his impending nuptials, but once they’d met Adrianna and realized that she had everything in hand they had relaxed and spent the remainder of their stay reconnecting with long-lost relatives. His sisters and their families had arrived three days before the wedding and were staying in the large bungalow they had rented for another week before flying back to the UK. Anthony had flown in on the eve of the wedding, without Dawn who had stayed with their daughter, to be Kevin’s best man again. He had flown back the day after. While Kimberley’s mother had been planning the wedding, Kevin had been busy finding appropriate premises to set up his business. On her return from their honeymoon, Kimberley would work only a three-day week with the bank. She would spend the rest of the week learning the ropes of the investment business, managing the smaller portfolios under Kevin’s tutelage until she gained the necessary experience. They anticipated that business would be slow at first, but were quietly confident that Kevin’s business acumen would attract savvy investors. And they already had one potential client—Nigel, who had turned up

at the wedding uninvited. Kevin hadn’t minded, but had been surprised to find that the man had still not left the island. Even before Kevin had returned to the UK, Nigel had moved to the small guesthouse owned by the older St Lucian woman he had met at the nightclub. Kevin had warned him to be careful, worried that the woman was after Nigel’s money, but it seemed that she’d had a steadying influence. Nigel had bought a house in a newly-built housing development and had even persuaded his parents to move back home to live. Following one of Kevin’s suggestions—though Kevin had been talking about investment in the US since he’d assumed Nigel would be living there, and not Barbados—Nigel had built two four-apartment blocks in areas with high demand for rental property and was enjoying full occupancy. Delighted with the success of his first projects, Nigel was keen to discuss future investment ideas with Kevin. “So, Mrs Williamson, how many children did we agree on in the end?” Kevin asked as he nibbled on Kimberley’s fingertips. “Nine or ten, I can’t .” “Two or three!” she replied indignantly. “I see I’m going to have to use my persuasive powers.” He bent and kissed her teasingly. “Seven or eight?” “Three or four, and that’s final!” He kissed her again, this time a little more thoroughly and her nipples peaked as heat raced through her body. “Okay, five,” she conceded weakly. “We’ll discuss this further when I get you back to our room. I think that I can be much more persuasive than that,” he threatened with a wink as he got to his feet and held his hand out to her. Kimberley put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet, smiling as she had a mental image of several miniatures of herself and Kevin tugging at her skirt, demanding her attention, driving her crazy. Protection had been the last thing either of them had thought about the first time they had made love on the day Kevin had arrived from the UK. She wanted to wait another couple of days to be quite sure before she let him know that baby

number one was already on the way!

*****

Other titles by Lexy Harper Bedtime Erotica Bedtime Erotica is a collection of eight explicit short stories that will leave a lasting impression. It starts off with a cautionary tale in Another Woman and quickly shifts to the more subtly erotic Double The Trouble, a story of a woman desired equally by her boyfriend and his identical twin. Lexy constantly turns the heat up and down with each story, leaving the reader’s ions simmering until they get to Oxford Blue, a beautifully written tale of a mature woman’s seduction by her son’s friend that will make you question your morals and ends in a bang with Telephone Sex: a raw, nasty and in-your-face story which is a prelude to the next book in the series: Bedtime Erotica for Freaks (like me). The characters are all different: from the young, shy, virginal to the sassy, sexy, downright outrageous, mature, older woman. They each take a pleasure-filled adventure to satisfy a sexual hunger that craves ultimate fulfilment.

Bedtime Erotica for Freaks (like me) In Bedtime Erotica, Lexy Harper exposed her softer side and demonstrated her ability to write imaginative romantic erotica. Bedtime Erotica for Freaks (like me) verves off in a completely different direction. Lexy turns up the heat considerably, revealing her darker, freakier, unromantic side in these short stories. Seven women who follow their sexual destinies, taking pleasure where they find it - damn the consequences and everyone else! Vanessa lives out her sexual fantasies. Amanda gets the man she wants while in disguise. Geraldine hates being a prostitute but is very good at it. Indra’s job as a chatline operator gives her the opportunity to experience her fisting fantasy. Nectar takes the term ‘breast-feeding is best’ very literally. Antonia lives a completely hedonistic life. Samantha is bent on wrecking homes with her special friend The Home Wrecker.

Bedtime Erotica for Men Mason’s impressive record of sexual conquests at the office is almost flawless, but he has to sleep with overweight Hailey to achieve the perfect score. Identical twins Sunflower and Daffodil are inseparable, they share everything, including men. Graham gives into temptation and samples a few of his barely legal students. Tariq is attracted to both his girlfriend Angel and his best friend Raymond, he doesn’t know if he is gay, bi-sexual or merely confused. Shawn has earned his nickname ‘The Dog’, there are very few women he considers offlimits, even his youthful great-aunt. Plagued by erotic equine dreams which make her horny, virginal Abigail allows Frank, the farmhand, to sate her rampaging desires. Sugar is every man’s nightmare, a woman who will give you one memorable taste of her sweetness and then move on. Lexy Harper has tapped into her ‘inner man’ for these seven stories which make up the third book of her Bedtime Erotica series. They are written with men in mind but women will find them equally satisfying.

Mammoth Collection of Bedtime Erotica Mammoth Collection of Bedtime Erotica is the entire trilogy in one convenient Kindle volume to give you hours and hours of satisfaction. You get all three books, Bedtime Erotica, Bedtime Erotica for Freaks (like me) and Bedtime Erotica for Men, for the price of two. The collection includes:

ANOTHER WOMAN DOUBLE THE TROUBLE DO AS I SAY THE NIGHT BEFORE SLEEPING HER WAY TO THE BOTTOM FRUITS AND VEGETABLES OXFORD BLUE TELEPHONE SEX VANESSA AMANDA GERALDINE INDRA NECTAR ANTONIA SAMANTHA

PERFECT SCORE EASY RIDERS NAUGHTY PROFESSOR INTIMATE FRIENDS SHAWN ‘THE DOG’ MITCHELL EROTIC DREAMS SUGAR BROWN

This toe-curling collection has been compiled specially for anyone who enjoys my no-holds-barred approach to erotica.

Envy Dee and Nina have been best friends since they were little girls and have what everyone thinks is the perfect friendship. In reality Nina is insanely jealous of Dee’s blissful nine-year marriage to childhood sweetheart, Oliver - a man Nina has wanted since she was thirteen. How far would Nina woman go to steal her best friend’s man? Would she:

a) Tell him that Dee’s been unfaithful to him. b) Give him a blow job that will blow his mind. c) Murder Dee. d) All of the above.

How well does Dee know her best friend? How far will Nina go to get what she wants? Surely not as far as murder!

Naughty Professor This is the original version of the short story Naughty Professor which is one of the seven stories in my book Bedtime Erotica for Men. Just before I published the book in April, 2007 I decided to delete the gay sex scenes as I wasn’t sure that ‘straight’ men would want to read sex scenes which involved two men. A year later I am still not sure that my decision was right, so I have decided to give my readers a chance to read the original story of Graham Greene, The Naughty Professor, who gives in to temptation and samples a few of his students.

Also by Lexy Harper

African-American Erotica Bedtime Erotica Bedtime Erotica for Freaks (like me) Bedtime Erotica for Men

African-American Erotic Romance Envy

African-American Romance School Daze Boxed Set Soca Nights

BBW Erotic Romance Turned Out!

Bedtime Erotica Another Woman Oxford Blue

The Night Before Do As I Say Sleeping Her Way to the Bottom Telephone Sex

Bedtime Erotica for Freaks (like me) Indra Geraldine Antonia Samantha Nectar

Bedtime Erotica for Men Naughty Professor Perfect Score Erotic Dreams Shawn 'The Dog' Mitchell Sugar Brown

Erotic Romance The Anniversary Stories

Interracial Erotica Officer to the Rescue! Scorned!

Jo, T-Girl Goddess! The Last Reunion The Virgin

Light BDSM Erotica Webman

MFM Erotic Romance Coming Home for Christmas

School Daze Still the One

Seducing the Billionaire Seducing the Billionaire: The Bait (#1) Seducing the Billionaire: The Kidnap (#2)

Seducing the Billionaire: The Complete Series Seducing the Billionaire: The Sting (#3)

Standalone Vanessa