Caribbean Crush (Under the Caribbean Sun)

Dedication

For Kimberly, the best big sister in the world, even if you aren’t technically mine.

Chapter One

Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Antonnis Prinsen bounded down the clapboard stairs of the church, clutching his phone for dear life. Whatever matrimonial fever his brothers had caught, he didn’t want it infecting him. He needed contact with sanity, and since he was marooned on the slim Caribbean isle of Anguilla, his only hope was an internet connection.

Checking a map to make sure the island hadn’t floated into the center of the Bermuda Triangle became priority one. The last time he’d seen his brothers they’d been perfectly sane. Sensible. Thinking with the right head.

Now? One seemed thrilled to be getting married tomorrow—to someone he’d thought they all considered a sister. Johannes had turned into her yes man, and even uttered the words “Happy wife, happy life.” Antonnis shuddered again.

Their eldest brother had also fallen prey to the magic-pussy phenomenon. Harmannus was so taken he’d asked their father for their grandmother’s wedding rings. It seemed like a supreme cosmic joke.

Beneath the sparse shade of a mahogany tree, he leaned against the gnarled trunk and reconnected with civilization. As a kid he’d spent his summers escaping to Anguilla, surfing and sailing under the Caribbean sun. He hadn’t been back since he’d earned his MBA and returned home to the Netherlands to join his father’s property investment company, taking on the role of adult. His brothers had both bailed on the company a year later, having made enough money to retire to the sun-drenched island their godfather called home.

Not that he had anything against the women captivating his brothers. Sassy was the daughter of their godfather and he loved the brat like a sister. Holly was the put-together responsible type of woman he’d always respected. But his brothers had changed, and the loss tugged at him like the Grim Reaper’s staff.

The leaves rustled overhead as a hot breeze pushed its way across the island. Antonnis scrubbed his hand through his hair, wondering why he used to look forward to the heat. He hadn’t been able to keep a shirt on for more than an hour in the last two days, and forget pants. Or socks. Shorts and sandals were pushing it.

Birds chirped, bright-yellow blips darting through the sky and settling overhead. He looked up, making sure none of them had settled in within decorating distance. He’d learned that lesson the hard way. The animals on this island barely tolerated the humans, especially the marauding goats that ensured no one ever need use a lawn mower. He scanned the horizon, finding two specimens heading down the hill toward town. But what climbed the hill stole his attention.

“Janny, listen to me.” Kristin Taylor stood on her pedals, forcing the bike that last few yards up the low hill. “We’re in this wedding to support Sass. It has nothing to do with the Prinsens.”

“She’s marrying a Prinsen, and they’ll all be there. In one room.” The pain in her best friend’s voice carried through the earpiece she wore when cycling. “I just can’t.”

“You can. You’re stronger than you’re giving yourself credit for, Dr. Baird. When you promised Sass you’d be a bridesmaid, you knew who she was marrying.” When she’d called Janny, she’d expected her to be on the way. Not that anything was much of a drive on Anguilla. She reached the top of the hill and steered through the gravel parking lot of the oldest church on the island.

“I didn’t factor in two days’ worth of having to share space with all of them. And I can’t even have a drink because I’m on call. Can’t you just tell her I got pulled into an emergency?”

“If it were the truth, I would. Get the awkwardness over today, so tomorrow we can concentrate on being there for our friend, the bride. This is about her.” She maneuvered around a jalopy of a truck and two enormous luxury vehicles, one of them worth enough to buy her folks’ cottage twice over.

“I wish there was something we could say to make her rethink.”

Not this again
. Kristin climbed off her bike and leaned it against the whitewashed clapboard siding of the church. “Janny, you’ve said your peace. You’ve told her your opinion of the Prinsens, and she told you that Joe is different. Unless you’re prepared to tell her—”

“No. Dear God, no. I don’t want anything to do with any of those men. They’re all cut from the same cloth. It’s just hard for me to watch my friend get wrapped up in one of them. You of all people know how they treat women.”

Yes, she did. The cut was so deep the scar had never faded. But Kristin didn’t believe in judging someone on the sins of their brother. Or father. Or other brother. “Joe has been great with Sass. You know that. And she’s marrying him whether we stand there in those dresses or not. All we can do is support her and be there for her, even when it’s hard.”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“No, you hate it when you’re wrong.” She undid the buckle on one of her saddle bags and reached in for a towel to wipe off the gleam of the midday sun.

“I’m not wrong about those users. But I’m a good friend. And I can’t let you face
him
alone.”

Kristin’s stomach clenched, reality coming like a sucker punch. She’d have to see him, have to hold in every nasty thing she’d dreamed of saying to him, pretend like he hadn’t abandoned her without a word.

“Okay, sweets, from the silence I know you need me. I’m leaving the hospital now. Don’t go in without me.”

“See you in five.” Kristin grabbed her clothes from the saddle bag and wrapped the pleated navy skirt over her hips and buttoned it in place. It always struck her as funny that riding her bike in sporting briefs was acceptable, but whenever she dared do the same in a skirt her mother would get phone calls. The rich and famous thought the island offered ultimate privacy, but in reality it was just one big village. From Anguillita to Snake Point and Blowing Point Harbor to The Valley, locals couldn’t make a move without notice.

“
Goverdomme!
” The deep voice clubbed her over the back of the head, freezing her in place with her arms half in her blue gingham blouse. Her stomach tumbled in recognition, so she sucked it in as she turned to face her own personal demon.

Antonnis tossed a half-smile at Kristin, wishing he hadn’t been caught like a peeping Tom. But the giant lizard at his feet had to have cousins in the Paleolithic. He’s seen dogs smaller than this behemoth. If the row of green spikes running along the back of the beast weren’t enough, he had a grotesque turkey waddle under his block head and whipped his tail against the ground like a…well, a whip.

“Don’t move.” Kristin made her way to him, her gingham blouse undone and making her look like a very naughty Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. Goodness knew she always sent him over the rainbow.

“He’s planning on making my foot his supper.” The thing puffed up its red waddle like a balloon and started bobbing its head.

“More likely he’s thinking of mating with you.” She knelt down at his feet and peered at the creature, then let out a low whistle. The iguana froze, and then turned tail and ran beneath a scrubby bush.

Kristin sighed and straightened, buttoning her blouse with rapid precision. She was his favorite memory of the island, and he’d hoped to find her here. Though he figured by now she would have moved on, married and had a handful of babies. Her bare fingers and slender, willowy figure had him wondering just when her plans for her future had changed.

“It’s rather brown for a green iguana.” She cast him a smile so fake he furrowed his brow in disbelief. “They washed up here a few years back after a bad hurricane season. I thought it might be one of our native species. They’ve become endangered since the sister species arrived. Competition, hybridization, all that.”

She turned and walked back to her bike like they were strangers. As if the precocious girl he’d known, full of goofy grins and giggles, had never existed. He pocketed his phone and followed her, unease increasing with each step. He called out her name, but she didn’t turn. Instead, she released her blonde hair from its ponytail, golden tresses streaked with sunshine falling down her back.

“Kristin?” he asked again, not sure how to proceed. He always knew the next two steps, and yet she had him on the edge of a cliff. “Are you here for the wedding rehearsal or were you looking for me?”

Anger burst in her chest, causing her heart to race with fury. Looking for him? As if. She spun on her heel to face him and ignored the way his pale-blue eyes sparkled and reminded her of shy glances, how his mouth arced in the same grin he used before stealing a kiss. She even disregarded the way his broad-shouldered frame had filled out, creating a degree of definition that made her fingers tremble for a chance to touch.

Instead, she pulled her hair over one shoulder and vowed to remain civil. He hadn’t deserved her love, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve any of her mental energy five years later.

“I’m one of Saskia’s bridesmaids, just waiting for Janny to arrive.” She turned back to her saddle bags and belted them closed. One didn’t have to worry much about theft on Anguilla, but animals invaded privacy at every opportunity.

“Your best friend, I remember she really had a hate on for me. I think she was jealous of all the time we spent together.” His clipped Dutch accent brought to mind sweltering nights and naughty whispers.

“She saw things about you I didn’t.” She dried her palms on her skirt and turned back to him. Long-forgotten desire surfaced as she refused to recognize the handsomeness of his lean face. He had the most glorious cheekbones. She gave herself a mental shake. “I should have listened to her.”

“What fun would that have been?” The dark velvet of his voice clashed with the disarming twinkle of his clear-blue gaze. He knew how to play her like a piano.

“Don’t you need to be inside, Tonnis? You didn’t come here to toy with me. I doubt you ever expected to see me again.”

“I’m forever optimistic.” The bold desire in his gaze kicked her pulse into high gear. “After the dinner tonight let’s have a drink, for old time’s sake.”

“I have handwriting assignments to grade.” Thankfully, Janny’s red Audi curled up the winding road to the church.

“It’s Friday. I’m sure you can find time later in the weekend. I’m staying the week.”

She faced him and deadpanned. “I have to wash my hair.”

“You know how I love doing that for you.” His laugh was deeper, more delicious than she recalled. The grin of a man who always, always got his way weakened the backs of her knees.

“You keep right on remembering that.” She sidestepped him as Janny’s tires crunched on the gravel, adding a swing to her walk as she crossed the parking lot.

Chapter Two

The beat of the steelpans set the unhurried pace of the evening. The remains of dinner, a generous spread of barbecued fish and fresh fruits, lay on the buffet table outside Dutch’s two-story Victorian-style home. His godfather’s home had been their base whenever on the island, but after a hurricane had ripped off the roof, the inside had been remodeled from a homey collection of clutter to a modern showpiece. It didn’t feel quite like home anymore.

Nothing really felt the same. Especially Kristin Taylor’s new disdain for him. It gave him an uncomfortable feeling he needed to rid himself of. As soon as possible.

She kept close to Janny, her blonde head tipped as they shared a secret. Janny’s dark curls hid Kristin’s face so he couldn’t even make out the words those kissable pink lips formed. When she looked up, he caught her dark gaze, puzzled by the wariness and hesitation. What had happened to the gentle beauty that erased the playful happiness he remembered?

The sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the bottoms of the cotton-ball clouds with golden fingers. His brother and father were talking beside him, yet he couldn’t hear a word. He attacked most problems with single-minded focus, and Kristin was no different. He wanted to talk with her alone. Her determination to keep herself in conversation with others wouldn’t hold him at bay forever.

Sassy and Holly approached the two other women and Antonnis didn’t bother to hide his smile. It would be much easier to slide into a group conversation than it would to break into a private one.

“Where is your mind, son?” his father asked him in Dutch. “Not tangled in a local, I hope.”

“Papa, you have one son getting married, to a Dutch girl no less. Don’t worry about where I lay my head.” He wrapped an arm around his father’s shoulders and squeezed. He tipped his beer bottle at his eldest brother. “Now this one you should worry about. He keeps checking his watch and looking at his girl. Mannus, are you thinking of ditching us?”