Smugglers in Paradise

By Rita Durrett

Megan West has planned a relaxing vacation, but when she meets Travis Mankiller all of that changes. Her luggage is stolen and death threats overheard before she has even boarded the cruise ship. The dark headed, brown eyed stranger is rude, arrogant, and probably dangerous, but she can’t help but fall in love with him.
Travis has missing art and artifacts to find, but some little minx keeps getting in his way.
Together they embark on an adventure of mystery and intrigue; but the overriding theme is of love and romance as hot as the tropical background in which it is set.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rita Durrett
• Release date: Jul 24, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465979438

Rita Durrett

Rita Durrett has written four Young Adult and three Women's novels as well as dozens of short stories and novellas. She has published one award-winning Children’s story.Over 40 years in the field of education have given Mrs. Durrett insight and knowledge about teenagers, their inner turmoil, and resilient nature. Her mid-west living and frequent cruise trips to the Caribbean provide the perfect background for suspense, adventure, and romance in her writing.Visit her website at www.ritadurrett.com.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Look at that! That guy pulled into our parking space. He could see me sitting here. I know my blinker is working. Megan spewed in the general direction of the white Dodge. He's not getting away with this. Hand on the door lever, Megan prepared to confront the other driver.

Megan, wait! You don't know anything about him. Kelly could never be certain what her compulsive daughter might do. He might have a gun.

Megan's heart beat rapidly as she stared at the pickup in 'her' parking space.

The driver's door of the Dodge popped open, and a dark headed man in a well cut, navy suit strode toward the car. Brown eyes twinkling, jaw firm, he held his hands casually at his side. You snooze you lose, ladies. I've got a plane to catch. He walked right past Megan's Civic without any sign of remorse.

N...no Megan sputtered. She pushed the door open with renewed effort, but could go nowhere because her mother tenaciously held her right arm.

Megan, we don't have time for this. He's already parked and gone. Find another space and park this car. We're going to be late for our flight, and you’ll be forced to drive, after all.

That got Megan's attention. Her mother, nervous about flying, had wanted to drive the thousand plus miles from Tulsa, Oklahoma, to the Sunshine State. Megan had put her foot down or they would probably be heading east on I-40, now.

Fine. I'll let him get away with it, this time, the rude, arrogant... Megan growled under her breath as she closed the car door, put the Civic in gear, and drove on to find another parking space. Suitcases unloaded, they caught a shuttle to the front door of the airport.

He was kind of handsome for such a rude man, wasn't he? Kelly gave her daughter a sideways glance. Her slender fingers straightened her stylish, pale yellow summer blouse. I saw the look on your face as he approached our car.

Megan grinned contritely back at her mother. He was gorgeous, wasn't he? Too bad he acted like such a butt.

Twenty-six-year-old Megan West was accustomed to having her way, especially when dealing with males. Most men saw her as attractive, and she had no problem using that knowledge to her advantage. She could usually count on any man in her path jumping through hoops to make her happy. This guy seemed immune to her spell, and that intrigued her. She couldn't help thinking about those deep brown eyes and broad shoulders as she hopped off of the shuttle and turned to take her luggage from the driver.

Honey, we're late. They told us to be here at least two hours ahead of time. The plane is going to leave us. Kelly was getting nervous.

We're fine, Mom. Megan accepted her mother's concern as a byproduct of her recent divorce. At forty-eight, Kelly was adjusting to not having everything handled promptly and efficiently. Up until now, her mother's job in life had been to assist Megan's father in his contracting business. That usually meant getting someone to do whatever she needed when she needed it.

Megan glanced behind her to make sure Kelly was following her through the revolving doors. They would soon join all of the other travelers shuffling their baggage through the line snaking its way to the check-in counter.

Megan, wait up a minute. I need help with this big suitcase. The rolling case seemed to have a mind of its own and refused to follow along. Kelly had placed her belongings on the floor as she struggled with the wheel lock.

Megan juggled her own items so she could bend down to help. As she stood and turned to step into line, she bumped into a pair of broad shoulders. Another traveler had taken advantage of their stopped motion and moved into the empty spot in the line. Excuse me; I believe we were in line first.

The stranger in the navy suit turned, and Megan found herself gazing into the same brown eyes she had stared into earlier in the parking lot. The man possessing those eyes also had a handsome face which possessed a square jaw, high cheekbones, and jet-black hair combed neatly across a broad forehead.

Why would you push in line ahead of us? Megan asked. Her right hand rested on her hip, and her left tightened on the handle of her rolling case. You could see that we're having difficulties with luggage. Anyone with a conscience would have offered to help instead of taking advantage of two ladies!

Megan realized how rude she sounded as soon as the words left her mouth, but something about this man stirred her emotions. Perhaps it was his earlier rudeness that prompted the tirade. After all, Megan surmised, this made twice that he had cut in front of her in line.

A full minute passed as the stranger silently stared. A sly smile and that familiar twinkle in those brown eyes should have been a clue, but Megan didn't catch it. Of course, someone with a conscience would certainly have done that. He took hold of his suitcase handle. Excuse me, but as I said earlier, I must catch a plane. The stranger left the two ladies staring at his back as he quickly pulled his bag closer to the last person in line.

Well! Can you believe that? I hope he misses his flight. Kelly quipped

No, I can't believe it. Megan stood looking at that retreating back for several seconds before she gathered her luggage. She followed as Kelly pulled the now functioning luggage into line. I can't believe he didn't even offer to help us with our bags. The last words were spoken loud enough for the object of her fury to hear, but that particular male gave no indication that she was there. This was probably a first in Megan's life, and she was more than a little pissed!

It wasn't long before mother and daughter were through luggage check-in and headed for the dreaded carry-on-baggage security check-point. Precious minutes ticked by. Megan and Kelly had to make it to the gate before their plane left.

Chapter 2

The last boarder was going through ticket check by the time the two lady travelers approached the gate. Falling into line right behind him, they handed their boarding passes to the steward, walked the covered ramp, and greeted the crew as they passed through the open door into the airplane.

Well, we finally made it! As much as I hate the idea of flying, I will be so relieved to be seated and taking off. Kelly was slightly out of breath from the brisk walk down the tunneled ramp.

Me too, Mom, let me know if you see two seats together. I wish they were still doing assigned seats.

The aisle of the plane was crammed with people standing, arms above their heads, trying to push pieces of luggage into the overhead compartments. Being one of the last to board meant maneuvering to get around those standing, and hoping against hope that there were two empty seats together somewhere on the plane.

Megan dodged a woman's oversized purse on one side as it nearly gave an uppercut to her ribs. In the process of avoiding the purse, she stepped into just the right spot to be whacked on her rear-end by a tubular fishing pole case being brandished around by a shriveled-skinned, older man.

I am sorry, Miss. This thing is so awkward to handle but too valuable to check with the other luggage.

No problem. I will be out of your way in a minute. Megan assured him as she made her way on down the aisle.

Mom, there are two seats here. Megan led the way then stepped aside to allow her mother to sit first.

This will all be worth it when we cruise into the Bahamas. Can you get my luggage up there with yours? Kelly sank into her window seat, giving her daughter an 'I-know-you-will-take-care-of-it-for-me' smile.

Once her mother was seated, Megan began the arduous task of trying to stuff their baggage into the overhead compartment. At one point she lost control of a suitcase and caught it just as it narrowly missed the head of the passenger that occupied the seat in front of them. He must have felt the motion of the air, because he turned in time for his eyes to look piercingly into the panicked eyes of Megan as she stood clutching the offending bag.

Oh, it's you again, Megan whispered. She could feel her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

Luckily his attention was diverted by a gentleman standing at Megan's side. Hello, Travis. I didn't expect to see you here. commented the man behind Megan. He addressed the man she had nearly beheaded with familiarity.

Mr. Farrow. The dark headed stranger said with a stiff smile and an air of dismissal.

Pardon me, Miss. Could I help? Said the man the stranger had called Farrow.

Megan's eyes were drawn back from the indiscernible face of her victim to the kind face of the man standing at her elbow.

Please, let me load that bag for you. I am sure it's heavy, and these compartments are pretty full.

Yes, thank you. Said Megan as she sat down and stowed her purse under the seat.

The gentleman effortlessly swung the luggage into the overhead compartment. Minutes passed as he moved several items and rearranged others so that their luggage and his was loaded securely and then closed the compartment door with a snap. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is John Farrow but call me Red. The nod of his head accentuated his copper hair and left no doubt as to the source of the nickname.

Thank you very much, Mr. Farrow, I mean, Red. I nearly beheaded this man, Megan gave a covert look at the back of the head of the man in question. And I don't know how much more damage I would have done before managing to get that bag loaded. I really appreciate your help.

My pleasure. Red settled into the seat across the aisle from Megan. His seat belt snuggly in place, he turned to address her. What's your name?

My name is Megan West, and this is my mom, Kelly West. Do you fly often? Megan appreciated having a diversion from the unfriendly passenger sitting directly in front of her. She looked forward to a pleasant conversation with Red on the long flight.

Fairly often. Red seemed to be enjoying the chance to converse. I am a curator for the Gilcrease museum in Tulsa. I make this trip every time I get the opportunity. How about you?

My mom and I, Megan glanced lovingly at her mother, are on a vacation trip to Florida that includes a cruise to the Bahamas. Neither one of us has ever cruised, so we're really excited.

That's where I am headed. I fly in the USA, but after 9/11 I'm pretty nervous about flying overseas, so I usually cruise the rest of the way. Besides, it's often cheaper to cruise than fly. Actually, I own a villa in Nassau.

How long have you lived in the Bahamas, and isn't Tulsa a long commute? Megan asked, with a puzzled smile. Red twisted in his seat to better view his companions. It is, a little. I don't mind the flight, and I actually live in Tulsa. My Nassau home is only a vacation place, but it's my true love.

Kelly flashed Red a dazzling smile. I guess you don't have to worry about a home being unfaithful.

No. Red agreed. It is always waiting for me with open arms. Everything I love is there, and I can't wait 'til I can move permanently.

You look too young for retirement. Can you work there as a curator? Megan asked.

Oh, I have an idea or two. I have been working on some investments. Red's voice had taken on a very reflective tone. What do you do, Miss West? I assume you work. He said, back in the conversation.

I do work. I'm a teller for the Bank of Oklahoma. I've worked there since I graduated from high school. The job paid my way through college. It took me awhile, but I finally made it. This trip is my graduation present from Mom. Megan's voice held a distinct tone of pride.

Congratulations. What is your degree, and why did it take longer?

I plan to be an accountant, and it took me longer than most because I could only take evening classes.

I am sure you will make a very good accountant.

The conversation continued for another thirty minutes or so, and then the routine of the flight interfered to the point that it ceased for the most part, with an occasional exchange or two about the plane, cloud formations, topographical anomalies, and expectations for the upcoming vacation.

During the time that Megan was not conversing with Red or her mother, she stared at the back of the dark headed mysterious stranger in the navy suit. She found herself daydreaming.

A man with dark hair walked her off of the plane; his muscular arm draped around her shoulder. Come with me and let me show you the time of your life. He murmured in her ear.

I, I can't. My mother is with me.

I'll send a car to pick her up and take her to the hotel. She will be fine. You won't be sorry.

Sultry brown eyes burned into Megan's, mesmerizing, hypnotizing. She couldn't, no, didn't want to say no. Sure. I'll go with you anywhere. Her moist, enticing lips parted seductively. The stranger's lips possessed her own, completely and expertly consuming her in the heat of desire.

You are the beautiful, sexy, woman that I have been looking for all of my life.

Megan rubbed the palm of her hand seductively across his chest.

He took her by the arm and directed her to his nearby Ferrari. While opening the door for her with one hand, his other hand gently grasped her chin and tipped it up so that his mouth could cover hers in a deep, lingering kiss before he stepped back and closed her door. He drove the car expertly, weaving in and out of traffic, to a destination know only to him.

Excuse me, ma'am. Would you like anything to drink? The stewardess was walking through the aisles, taking orders in a little notebook.

Um, I'll take a Diet Coke. Megan was a little embarrassed and hoped her imaginings had not caused her face to be flushed. She wanted this lady to take care of business and let her get back to her thoughts.

The Ferrari eased up to a bluff overlooking a wide expanse of pristine white beach. Not a soul was in sight as he hopped out of the car and came around to open Megan's door.

Here's your drink. The lady was back and handing Megan a napkin and a small, clear plastic cup of soft drink.

Thank you. Megan took the offered drink and napkin. She watched as the stewardess handed the man in front of her his ordered drink. Megan closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, allowing her imagination to run wild.

The stranger, smiling a brilliant smile, offered Megan his hand to help her out of the sports car. The ocean breeze whipped her hair into her eyes and the tall, dark headed stranger ever-so-gently moved an offending lock and curled it behind her ear. His dark brown eyes locked with Megan's blue ones and he leaned in for a quick, sultry kiss before taking her hand and leading her down a pathway to the beach. The hand didn't turn loose when the couple reached the water's edge. Instead, he stopped and pulled Megan toward him. He began slowly, seductively lifting her arms, sliding his hands upward.

Can you see the coastline yet? Red leaned into the aisle from his seat, peering over Megan to look out Kelly's window.

Wha...Oh It took Megan a second to make the transition from her daydream to the curator hovering over her with his question. No. Megan gave a quick glance at the window. Not yet.

The dark head in front of her turned to look across his own seatmate to check for himself. A lock of his hair curled sexily over his eye. Megan closed her eyes.

The stranger, a lock of hair curling over one eye, removed his Italian cut sports coat, opened it out, and laid it on the sand. With a quick, devouring kiss to Megan's lips, he knelt down until his face was even with her zipper.

Megan, can you hand me a magazine from in front of you?

Ummm Her breathing came fast. Why can't you people leave me alone? Here, Mom, take them all. She hastily handed the magazines to her mother, closed her eyes and turned her head away to discourage more conversation.

The dark