Page 15 of Landon

Landon chuckled at her enthusiasm as he almost plowed into her at the top of the open stairway leading to the tarmac. “Yeah, it’s going to be. Caribbean… remember?”

She looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. “I know, I know, smart-ass. But I’ve never been to a tropical island.” She sighed. “Damn, and we have to head straight back. Too bad we couldn’t spend a few days with the kids at a resort.”

Suddenly, the idea of Noel in a bathing suit lying on a lounger with a tropical drink filled his mind. Blowing out a long breath, he forced his thoughts back to the assignment. Just as he expected, a roomy SUV waited down below. The dark-skinned driver smiled as he approached.

“Mr. Sommers?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. I’m Jonathan, your driver. Mr. Fugate arranged for me to meet and take you wherever you need. If you will allow, I’ll take your bags.” He turned to Noel. “You must be Ms. Lennox.”

Noel greeted Jonathan as Landon handed him their two small bags. The driver then assisted Mike, and they quickly settled into the vehicle. Landon and Noel were in the back, while Mike sat in the passenger seat beside Jonathan.

Driving along palm-lined streets, Landon noted Noel’s head swung back and forth as though she didn’t want to miss anything. On either side of the streets were brightly painted shops, but many were in the process of having their windows boarded.

“Big storm is coming,” Jonathan said. “But don’t worry. It won’t hit us directly. Just have lots of wind and rain. Mr. Fugate said your business on the island will be dealt with quickly, and I’ll take you back to the airport. Yes?”

“Yes, that’s the plan,” Landon confirmed.

“Good, good. I am sorry you will not be here long enough to enjoy all the beauty of Jamaica, but you will come back… yes?”

A soft giggle slipped from Noel’s lips. “Yes, I hope so,” she replied.

Landon looked to the side and found her smiling at him, and suddenly, he wanted to promise Jonathan they would be back.

“Where’re we headin’?”

Mike’s words pulled Landon out of his random musings, and he grimaced, vowing to regain and retain his focus.

“Mr. Fugate said I was to take you to the resort where you are to pick up your charges. They are staying in a house on the beach there.”

“Must be nice,” Mike grumbled, his tone thick with resentment. “Pamela never had a problem burning throughStan’s hard-earned money even though she didn’t lift a finger to earn any of it.”

Noel’s eyes sharpened, a distinct edge creeping into her voice. “You won’t talk about her like that when Tad and Penny are with us, will you?”

Mike chuckled, shaking his head. “No, ma’am, I won’t. Trust me, we’re all careful about what we say around the kids. They don’t need to hear the worst from us. But they’ll figure it out soon enough. Their mom just sold them to their dad, after all.”

Landon watched as Noel’s lips pressed into a tight line, her displeasure clear. He understood Mike’s anger—years of loyalty to the Fugates had likely built up a well of frustration. But he also knew Noel was fiercely protective of the children’s emotional well-being. She wanted to shield them from the harsh truths for as long as possible. Scrubbing a hand over his face, Landon felt the weight of the assignment pressing down on him. He wanted this mission wrapped up, but at the same time, a part of him wasn’t ready to let go of the time he’d been spending with Noel.

The SUV turned onto a smooth, paved lane flanked by vibrant flower beds. Stone gates loomed ahead, opening into a stunning resort. Once inside, they passed through meticulously maintained private gardens. Golf carts zipped along narrow paths, ferrying residents and visitors between secluded beaches, elegant houses, condos, and a handful of charming shops and restaurants.

Jonathan navigated the winding paths with ease, revealing a collection of cream-colored houses and condos that seemed to glow against the turquoise blue of the ocean and the lush green of the surrounding gardens. Unlike the sprawling high-rise resorts, this place offered privacy and tranquility, each residence spaced out to give its occupants a sense of seclusion.

Landon had studied every detail of the resort—the layout, the photographs, the house where Pamela was staying. It was part ofhis nature to be over-prepared, a lesson drilled into him through years of experience. He hoped Pamela would be ready for them so he could obtain the necessary signatures and leave with Tad and Penny without delay.

Mike’s presence would offer familiarity and comfort. And Noel, with her kind eyes, gentle smile, and soft-spoken demeanor, would easily win their trust.

As the SUV rolled to a stop, Landon glanced out his window, taking in the sight of the multistory house nestled among the vibrant greenery, the white sand beach just beyond. The photographs he’d studied didn’t do it justice. The place was breathtaking, a paradise draped in shades of blue and green.

Lost in thought, he suddenly became acutely aware of Noel’s presence. She leaned closer, her gaze fixed out his window, completely engrossed in the view. Her hand rested lightly on his thigh. The seemingly absentminded gesture sent a jolt through him. Every nerve in his body came alive, heightened by her proximity.

She seemed unaware of her effect on him, her attention entirely captured by the scenery outside. But Landon couldn’t ignore it. The warmth of her touch and the subtle scent of her perfume mingling with the sea breeze wrapped around him, making it hard to focus on anything else.

They approached the front door, and Landon lifted his hand to ring the bell. The chime had barely echoed inside when the door flew open with surprising force. Standing before them was Pamela—but not the composed, polished woman he’d expected.

Instead, Pamela looked disheveled, almost frantic. Her eyes, wide and glassy, darted between them, a wild glint catching the light. The expertly applied makeup from earlier in the day had smudged into dark streaks beneath her eyes, giving her a raccoon-like appearance. Her long blond hair, usually styled to perfection, was now hastily pulled back into a low ponytail,stray strands framing her face in messy waves. The elegance suggested in her photos was replaced by a chaotic edge.

Her outfit was a strange blend of luxury and disarray. She wore silky, flared pants—likely made of actual silk—that clung to her form, matching a top that should have screamed sophistication. But over it all, she had thrown on a man’s shirt, rumpled and in need of both a wash and an iron. The odd combination only added to her frazzled appearance.

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