Read Online Jamaica Dreaming (Caribbean Heat) by Eugenia O'Neal - Free Book Online
Authors: Eugenia O'Neal
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Why was their engagement taking so long? Why hadn’t the man married her the moment she came out of the coma? He would love to ask her these questions but he knew he couldn’t. If anybody introduced the topic of her fiancé, it would have to be her and, even so, he would have to be very careful. He wouldn’t want anything he said to come out wrong or be taken the wrong way. They were still little more than strangers, after all. No, he would have to tread very carefully.
A flash of white moved on the periphery of his vision and his pulse quickened. Julissa had emerged through the shrubbery. She wore a white v–neck silk dress that managed to be both sexy and classy at the same time. A silver satin ribbon tied under her full breasts gave the dress an empire waist. Blue drops the size of his thumb swung from her ears and she wore a matching cuff on her slim wrist. In her hand she carried a silver beaded evening bag while her strappy silver sandals gave her a couple more inches in height. She took his breath away. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
She must have felt him watching because she looked up. When she saw him, her smile lit her face and Sebastian’s heart did a double flip. He got slowly to his feet as she came up the steps toward him.
“Good evening,” she said. Her smile faltered and she looked suddenly uncertain. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long.” His tongue felt frozen in his mouth. “I had a phone call and then the time just… I’m so sorry. We…” She took a deep breath. “We don’t have to go if it’s too late.”
Sebastian realized he hadn’t spoken, hadn’t returned her smile and she’d mistaken whatever she could read on his face.’
“No,” he managed to get out, his voice raspy. “It’s fine. You look wonderful. Like… like….” He wasn’t accustomed to using what he thought of as flowery language, the language of poets. “Like an angel sent from heaven.”
Her smile returned and broadened. “That’s just because I’m wearing white.”
“You’d look like an angel in any color,” he assured her.
“When I was growing up, angels were always white, and their hair was blonde.”
“The artists never saw you.”
She laughed again and looked embarrassed but pleased, too.
“Is that why you like the song Angelitos Negros ?”
“If angels exist, they come in all shades, I’m sure.”
“There’s an exhibit of Jamaican artists I must take you to,” he said, grabbing her hand. “No angels but I’ll be interested in what you make of the paintings.”
“Are you thinking of buying something?”
“I’ve got a painting by one of the exhibitors. I might be interested in something else. I think she’s going to blow up one day.” Her soft hand in his fit so right he wished the parking lot was further away. They chatted easily about art and other things as they walked. When he pointed his remote at the Mercedes she did a double take.
“Wow! How many vehicles do you have?”
“Just two. The Toyota is a company car. The Beemer Lori’s chauffeuring you around in is mine and so’s this. I didn’t use either to go to Hellshire because I might never see them again, at least not in any recognizable form.” He chuckled at the image of a car reduced to a few unidentifiable pieces of metal. Sebastian loved his fellow Jamaicans, but he knew very well that a lucrative trade in stolen cars and car parts flourished on the island. Neither the Beemer nor the Mercedes would last six minutes in some areas.
Their reservation was for eight thirty and they left Strawberry Hill after eight so Sebastian drove quickly, the G550’s powerful headlights brightening the road in front of them. In the air conditioned closeness of the car, Julissa’s perfume, a floral blend with a musky under note, teased his senses. He sneaked a glance at her profile, his gaze drawn to what he could see of her plush lips. The thought of kissing and nibbling them made him hot in all kinds of
A flash of white moved on the periphery of his vision and his pulse quickened. Julissa had emerged through the shrubbery. She wore a white v–neck silk dress that managed to be both sexy and classy at the same time. A silver satin ribbon tied under her full breasts gave the dress an empire waist. Blue drops the size of his thumb swung from her ears and she wore a matching cuff on her slim wrist. In her hand she carried a silver beaded evening bag while her strappy silver sandals gave her a couple more inches in height. She took his breath away. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
She must have felt him watching because she looked up. When she saw him, her smile lit her face and Sebastian’s heart did a double flip. He got slowly to his feet as she came up the steps toward him.
“Good evening,” she said. Her smile faltered and she looked suddenly uncertain. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long.” His tongue felt frozen in his mouth. “I had a phone call and then the time just… I’m so sorry. We…” She took a deep breath. “We don’t have to go if it’s too late.”
Sebastian realized he hadn’t spoken, hadn’t returned her smile and she’d mistaken whatever she could read on his face.’
“No,” he managed to get out, his voice raspy. “It’s fine. You look wonderful. Like… like….” He wasn’t accustomed to using what he thought of as flowery language, the language of poets. “Like an angel sent from heaven.”
Her smile returned and broadened. “That’s just because I’m wearing white.”
“You’d look like an angel in any color,” he assured her.
“When I was growing up, angels were always white, and their hair was blonde.”
“The artists never saw you.”
She laughed again and looked embarrassed but pleased, too.
“Is that why you like the song Angelitos Negros ?”
“If angels exist, they come in all shades, I’m sure.”
“There’s an exhibit of Jamaican artists I must take you to,” he said, grabbing her hand. “No angels but I’ll be interested in what you make of the paintings.”
“Are you thinking of buying something?”
“I’ve got a painting by one of the exhibitors. I might be interested in something else. I think she’s going to blow up one day.” Her soft hand in his fit so right he wished the parking lot was further away. They chatted easily about art and other things as they walked. When he pointed his remote at the Mercedes she did a double take.
“Wow! How many vehicles do you have?”
“Just two. The Toyota is a company car. The Beemer Lori’s chauffeuring you around in is mine and so’s this. I didn’t use either to go to Hellshire because I might never see them again, at least not in any recognizable form.” He chuckled at the image of a car reduced to a few unidentifiable pieces of metal. Sebastian loved his fellow Jamaicans, but he knew very well that a lucrative trade in stolen cars and car parts flourished on the island. Neither the Beemer nor the Mercedes would last six minutes in some areas.
Their reservation was for eight thirty and they left Strawberry Hill after eight so Sebastian drove quickly, the G550’s powerful headlights brightening the road in front of them. In the air conditioned closeness of the car, Julissa’s perfume, a floral blend with a musky under note, teased his senses. He sneaked a glance at her profile, his gaze drawn to what he could see of her plush lips. The thought of kissing and nibbling them made him hot in all kinds of
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