Page 186 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
“Plum?”
“I’m almost ready,” she called, rinsing her mouth, then twisting her hair into a bun. She did one last mirror check, hardly able to believe that she was the smiling, deliriously happy woman looking back at her. She pictured Penny and Charlotte. Is this what it was like for them? Is this how it felt to be cherished? Was this possible for her? The image of her father, standing in front of the Victorian, flashed before her eyes. Gaunt, pathetic, and ready to cash in on his daughter’s job to get an inside look at Raz; the man had let her down every step of the way since she’d lost her mother. But that wasn’t Erasmus, was it. Perhaps, like every other man, she’d put him in the same category as her father, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t be, right?
Breathe, just breathe.
She opened the door and spied Raz at the front of the jet, chatting with the pilot. The co-pilot nodded to her, then opened the cabin door. She stopped halfway up the aisle as a fragrant, invigoratingly dazzling aroma tempted her senses. Slightly fruity with hints of coconut and something akin to gardenias, she breathed in the warm air as it wafted inside the plane. This wasn’t the crisp, dry-your-cuticles-out Denver air. No, what she’d inhaled spoke of a tropical world—a world that must be miles away from Colorado’s Mile High City.
Slowly, absorbing it all, she walked the rest of the way up the aisle and joined Raz. She and her boxer thanked the pilots before exiting the jet and heading down the stairs. One step at a time, she surveyed their destination.
A string of lights lining the runway highlighted the dense foliage surrounding the sleepy airfield. Thick, towering palm trees engulfed an unassuming one-story building that sat beside a modest runway, slashing a short distance across the lush land.
She’d never experienced an airport like this.
“Is this someone’s home?” she asked.
Raz chuckled. “No, but it’s pretty remote, huh?” he answered, looking as surprised as she felt.
“You honestly haven’t been here before?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you, plum. This is my first time,” he replied, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
She scanned the empty tarmac. The co-pilot had set their bag on the runway, not far from the jet. Raz picked it up and slung it over his shoulder as she continued to study the landscape.
This was not Denver International Airport—or even Aspen’s regional airfield. There were no taxis, no buses, no expanses of asphalt lined with rental cars. A chorus of insects and birds greeting the day welcomed them as she tried to piece together where they were. Was this the Caribbean? Penny and Rowen had a place there. Could that be it, or did Raz have his own tropical vacation home? It couldn’t be that. He said he’d never visited this place before.
She glanced around. “No customs?”
If they’d left the country, a customs agent would have to be there.
“No need,” he answered as a pair of headlights pierced the darkness and headed their way.
An open-air Jeep pulled in next to the darkened building, and a lanky man hopped out. No, it wasn’t a man. The outdoor lighting revealed a teenager. Tall and sporting shorts and a T-shirt, he couldn’t be more than sixteen or seventeen. The kid stood in front of the vehicle. Lit by the headlights, he started moving in place, bobbing and weaving, throwing punches.
Was he okay?
“I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it,” the teen announced, shadowboxing as he spoke. “The British Beast, Erasmus Cress, is on my island,” the kid finished before going back to the Jeep and returning with a pair of boxing gloves.
Libby cocked her head to the side. It was safe to say she wasn’t expecting this type of reception.
“Why is there a teenage boy dancing around and shouting your name?”
Raz laughed, glanced at his phone, then waved to the kid. “Are you Milo?”
“Erasmus Cress knows my name,” the boy called out, his voice echoing in the fragrant air. I’m your ride to…”
The kid stopped bouncing.
“Wait, my grandma told me I’m not supposed to say anything. But we can take a selfie, right? I’ve gotta post this online. My friends will never believe it. Oh, and can you sign my gloves?”
She sized up her boxer. “You brought me to a tropical paradise populated with your fans? I must say, this is very on-brand for a beefcake like you.”
He laughed, raised their joined hands to his lips, and kissed her knuckles. “From what Briggs texted, it appears this fan seems to be what made this entire endeavor possible.”
Her jaw dropped. “Wait a second. You weren’t sure if we’d be welcome wherever we are?”
Raz tossed her one of his beefiest of beefcake grins. “Plum, you’re with Erasmus Cress. Who wouldn’t want me on their island?”
Sweet Buddha’s belly, this man.
