Macaw Island

By Jennifer Slater

Two very different women call idyllic Macaw Island home...

Savita Ramotar - Beautiful, intelligent, sweet-natured and loyal. After a painful breakup leaves this budding Horticulturalist disillusioned and heartbroken, she swears off of love until a chance encounter with a handsome tourist ignites a spark within her.

Shanti Patel - Stunning, crafty, vindictive and jealous. With a heart as black as her hair, this femme fatale uses her abundant feminine charms to bend men to her will, and her next target is none other than Savita’s new love interest.

When greedy outsiders threaten the future of the island, the two women find themselves on opposing sides, and their loyalties are put to the test when Savita's father, Vickram, is kidnapped. Will these former childhood friends learn to put aside their differences in order to save Vickram or will old hurts and painful memories jeopardize his fate?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jennifer Slater
• Release date: Jan 12, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310811487

Jennifer Slater

I'm an avid reader whose love of books led me to try my hand at writing my own novels. I graduated from Hofstra University in 1989 where I had the privilege of taking a creative writing course taught by Oscar Hijuelos, the Pulitzer Winning Author of "The Mambo Kings Play Songs of Love". One of my proudest college moments occurred when I earned the much coveted, but rarely given, "A" for my final grade from Mr. Hijuelos. I have written 3 self-published romance novels so far with a 4th novel to be released soon. I enjoy writing romantic stories that feature a strong female lead, friendships and an uplifting message.

Book preview

Prologue

The envelope arrived on a Tuesday afternoon; a nondescript, rectangular piece of flat paper that Savita almost tossed into the trash can without opening. Her name and address were printed neatly in all caps on the front, but there was no return address on it. Her first thought was that it was some irrelevant piece of junk mail disguised to look like something important. Curiosity made her tear open the seal and she expected to see some announcement telling her that she’d won a cruise or that she was eligible to receive a free gift card to some store on the mainland.

What she pulled out of the envelope, however, was nothing that innocuous. Instead, she found herself holding a glossy 5x7 photograph, depicting a couple in what could only be described as a compromising position. She recognized the girl instantly - Shanti Patel was looking over her shoulder with a satisfied smirk on her scarlet tinged lips, her honey-colored eyes seeming to taunt Savita. But it was the other person lying beneath the naked girl that caused Savita’s heart to shatter into a million pieces. Her eyes widened in shock, the color draining from her face when she saw Mitra Kapoor, her boyfriend of two years, staring up from the photo with a goofy smile on his handsome face.

For several long seconds, Savita could see nothing through the haze of tears that clouded her vision and the photograph fell from her limp fingers, fluttering to the floor to land face up at her feet. She closed her eyes, hoping to dispel the image of the naked couple from her mind, but she could still see them clearly behind her closed lids. A slow anger churned within her and she forced herself to retrieve the photo from the floor. She grabbed her purse and keys from the table in the hallway and walked stiffly to her car.

When she arrived at Mitra’s apartment above his parent’s garage, she pulled into the driveway and laid on the horn. His startled face appeared at the window above, but she kept on honking, not caring if the noise was disturbing his parents or neighbors. Mitra raced towards her car, an annoyed look on his face. He was dressed only in a pair of cotton lounge pants and his thick, black hair was still damp, presumably from the shower that he’d just stepped out of.

Savita what the hell is going on? he shouted.

She catapulted out of the car, her eyes blazing and faced him with her arms crossed in front of her heaving chest. Sunlight glistened on his bare chest, adding a glow to the golden-brown skin and her fingers curled as she resisted the urge to stroke his warm skin as she had done so many times before. Instead, her hand flew out, striking him hard across his clean-shaven jaw.

You lying, cheating jackass, she hissed.

He took a step backwards as if afraid that she would strike him again. He looked bewildered as he rubbed his jaw and she could tell from the blank expression on his face that he had no idea what she was talking about.

Savi, what are you talking about? he asked, mimicking her thoughts.

This, she said, shoving the photograph at him.

He looked down at the photo and she watched closely as surprise, embarrassment and then guilt flickered across his face, quickly replacing his earlier confusion.

Oh, he said quietly.

H-how c-could you? she cried, her voice shaking with anger. A-and with Sh-Shanti of all people?

It’s not what it looks like, he said earnestly as he tossed the photograph to the ground and reached for her. I can explain.

She quickly side stepped him, moving out of his reach. There’s no explanation you can possibly give me that would make this right, she said hotly. That photo says it all.

But I was drunk. It meant nothing. His liquid brown eyes pleaded with her, begging her to believe him.

It might have meant nothing to you, but it means everything to me. It means that you cannot be trusted and it means that we’re over.

But, Savi please, I didn’t know what I was doing, he whined. You have to believe me. It was all Shanti’s fault. She was the one who came on to me … she seduced me.

Savita looked at Mitra, suddenly seeing him for what he always was … a rich, spoiled, selfish boy who’d grown into a rich, spoiled, selfish young man. You allowed yourself to be seduced, she said coldly. I didn’t want to believe the rumors about you. My friends warned me that you were a skirt chaser, but I let myself believe that you really cared about me. I see now that I was naïve and foolish.

I’m sorry, Savi. It won’t happen again. I promise. He reached for her again, catching her this time and pulling her towards him, but she averted her face when he tried to kiss her.

That’s right it won’t happen again because we’re through, she said calmly. Goodbye, Mitra. She wriggled out of his embrace and hopped back into her car. She threw the car into reverse, her foot pressed against the gas pedal until she reached the end of the driveway. With one sharp turn of the wheel, she was back on the road, leaving her stupid, romantic notions of a happily ever after in the dust at Mitra’s feet.

CHAPTER ONE

Three Years Later

It was a sunny May morning and a light breeze was blowing, making it ideal weather for being outdoors. Savita was hard at work in her vegetable garden, pulling up the weeds that had sprung up around the tomatoes and cucumbers since the last rain storm. She stopped briefly to survey the rows of leafy green plants that surrounded her and felt a rush of pride at how many heads of lettuce and cabbage had sprouted up over the past few weeks and how plump and juicy the tomatoes were that she’d planted with such care just a few short months ago.

A flock of colorful birds flew overhead and she smiled at the beautiful macaws that had given the island its name. Seeing the birds added to her contentment and she continued her work as the leafy branches of the nearby trees bent and swayed in the gentle breeze, shading her from the direct glare of the late morning sun.

Her ear buds were plugged into her ears and she was listening to her favorite playlist, totally oblivious to the sound of branches snapping high above her head. So intent was she on her task that she didn’t even feel the first drop of water hit the side of her face, and it wasn’t until a second, larger drop landed on her cheek that she raised her head reluctantly. Thinking that another storm was brewing, she shielded her eyes and looked up at the clear, blue sky. Seeing nothing that would suggest a change in the weather, she wiped the errant drops from her face and dropped a handful of weeds on top of the growing pile next to her feet. Another bigger drop hit her face and she sprang to her feet, pulling the ear buds out of her ears.

Prem, if you're spraying me with that stupid water gun of yours again, I'm going to box your ears, she said loudly.

It's not Prem, a deep, masculine voice shouted from somewhere above her head. Look up.

Her head immediately jerked upwards and in the direction of the voice. It was coming from somewhere high among the leafy branches of one of the tall mango trees that grew in a small grove just a few feet from her.

What the heck? she muttered to herself as she quickly crossed over to the tree and peered up its thick trunk. She was not prepared for the sight that greeted her -- a pair of long legs clad in blue running pants was dangling from a branch about halfway up the tree. Craning her neck, she could see swatches of scarlet nylon caught in between the branches way up at the top and she shook her head in disbelief.

Holy Krishna! Are you okay? she called up to the unseen person. Um, it appears that you're in a spot of trouble up there.

You think! the voice growled. I’m certainly not sitting in this tree for my health.

My, aren't you a bit crotchety for someone who crashed landed in MY tree, she answered peevishly. You’d think that a little politeness would be in order considering your present predicament.

There was silence for a few seconds and then a low chuckle sounded above her head. Touché, I apologize for my grouchiness and for being … as you call it … crotchety, but as you can see, I’m quite stuck, he said, sounding a bit more contrite. Do you have something sharp to cut me down with?

I believe I do, she replied, relieved by the change in his tone. She was glad that he was not some foul tempered jerk after all. I just need to get a ladder. Be right back.

Savita ran over to the shed where her father kept an assortment of items, ranging from a motley collection of tools to his ancient Bolens riding mower which he refused to part with, even after it had stopped running several years ago. She surveyed the rows of tools that neatly lined the back wall and grabbed a small pair of gardening shears from its hook. She placed the shears in the back pocket of her shorts, and then tugged at a piece of rope that was coiled around a stack of old clay flower pots. Several tiny spiders scurried off in different directions and disappeared into the shadows when she shook out the rope. She spotted a couple of ladders leaning against the wall of the shed and chose the taller of the two.

Shoo, Bascombe, she said, waving her hand at a large, brown rooster who’d been using the ladder as a temporary place of refuge from the dozen or so hens who were constantly vying for his attention outside. Go play with your girlfriends outside. I need this ladder.

The rooster gave her a beady eyed stare before flapping his wings and dropping down to the ground. He ran around in a circle, squawking indignantly before puffing out his feathered chest and running outside into the bright sunlight. The ornery rooster had been with her family for so long that he’d become more of a pet than just a mere fowl, and his antics never failed to make her smile. She hoisted the ladder onto her shoulder and carried it across the back yard and through the garden. She was thankful that it was made of fiberglass and not the old, clunky types that her father had kept around for years before her mother finally talked him into buying a more modern one. Back at the tree, she braced the ladder firmly against the trunk and tested it to make sure that it was secure before climbing to the top rung. With nothing but the soles of her feet to provide traction, she stepped onto the nearest branch and nimbly climbed up the tree until she was alongside the figure hidden behind a cluster of leaves.

You still doing okay? she asked as she straddled a thick branch and tied an end of the rope firmly around it. Are you hurt?

Right now, the only thing that’s hurt is my pride, was his rueful response.

At least you picked a comfortable tree to land in, she said dryly. Another five feet or so and you would’ve landed in my Osage orange tree and that one’s covered with thorns.

Ouch! In that case, I sure am glad that the wind didn’t blow me any farther, he laughed. Now if you could just cut the harness on this side, I should be able to manage the rest of it.

She scooted closer and pushed aside the branches, guided by the rich timbre of his voice. Okay, but before I do, I’m going to pass you this rope. Tie it around your waist as a precaution. I have the other end tied to this thick branch here, so you should be fine. Just let me know when you’re ready for me to start cutting.

Sure. Slim fingers poked through the leaves and grabbed at the rope. She heard a faint rustling noise as he busied himself with tying the rope. Okay, I’m ready, he announced.

With her thighs hugging the branch, she leaned over, stretching her arm out until she was touching the side of the harness. She clenched the small clippers in her hands, adjusting it at an angle that would enable her to snip through the thick material. She felt his body shift as he twisted towards her allowing her to get more leverage.

There... almost got it … just one more snip. The harness flopped down on one side, freeing his left shoulder. I’ve got this side done, she said triumphantly.

Awesome!

You think you'll be okay climbing down by yourself?

I’ll be fine. Now, if you’ll just hand me the clippers, I’ll finish up here. Thanks for helping me out.

No problem. Here you go. She passed him the clippers and waited as he snipped at the other strap on his shoulder. She listened for the sound of breaking branches and was relieved when she heard none.

I’m okay. You can untie the rope now.

She swiftly untied the series of knots that were keeping the rope in place. It slid off the branch and down through the leaves, like a coiled snake unwinding its elongated body. Satisfied that he no longer needed her help, she swung her leg over the branch and lowered herself down.

Several mangos plummeted to the ground, the weight of the ripened fruit causing them to be easily shaken from the tree limbs as she hopped from branch to branch. She reached the ladder and clambered back down it, pausing at the bottom to see if he was following her. She was about to call up to him again when the rustling of the leaves above signaled his descent. Her arms akimbo, she waited to see just what kind of idiot had gotten stuck in her tree.

CHAPTER TWO

A few seconds later, a pair of long legs made their way down the ladder, followed by a strong back, wide shoulders and a thick head of curly brown hair. When he turned to face her, she almost forgot to breathe … for standing in front of her was the most gorgeous guy she’d ever seen!

He was easily six feet tall, athletically built with eyes that were the color of the cornflowers that she’d carefully planted in her greenhouse just a few weeks ago. His dark hair was windblown and she could see bits of twigs and leaves sticking out from between the loose curls. The long sleeved, gray shirt that he wore was molded to his body, outlining a strong, toned upper torso. She tried to gauge his age, placing him somewhere in his late twenties, and when their eyes met, she found herself being mesmerized by his hypnotic blue gaze.

No one has eyes that blue … was the first thought that popped into her head.

His eyes held hers for what seemed like an eternity, even though she knew that it was only for a mere few seconds. She forced herself to remain calm as his gaze swept over her face, pausing at her lips before moving slowly down her body. She folded her arms instinctively across her chest, knowing that the thin, white, muslin shirt she wore was a little too revealing for his intense scrutiny. When his focus shifted to her bare legs, she found herself wishing that she was wearing her baggy cotton pants instead of her favorite pair of cutoff jeans shorts. She tried to think of something witty to say to bring his attention back to where it should be, but it was as if her tongue and her usually sharp mind had deserted her.

Whew, free at last and I have you to thank for that, he said when his eyes finally returned to her face. I was beginning to worry that I might have to spend the night up there.

His voice was low with a pronounced drawl that she recognized as being American. It was the same accent that she’d heard many times in her conversations with the elderly couple who lived down the street. The Marshalls were from Southern California and had chosen Macaw Island as the place to live out their retirement years. They were part of a small community of foreigners who had arrived on the island as tourists and had fallen under its spell, returning shortly to become permanent residents.

Well, thank goodness you didn’t have to, she said brightly, finding her voice again. All’s well that ends well.

He gave her an appreciative smile. It certainly is, but this definitely isn’t the way I would've chosen to meet such a hottie.

A what-tie? She shot him a surprised look.

You know … a beautiful woman, he replied, misinterpreting her look.

I know what a hottie is, she said sharply. I live on an island, not in outer space. Besides, we do have the internet and satellite here so we’re well acquainted with all your hip American phrases.

My apologies, he had the grace to look abashed. I wasn’t implying that you’re by any means out of touch here on this lovely island. His gaze returned to her face and he shot her a quick smile. You are gorgeous though.

Savita stared at him in disbelief. Was he for real? She was wearing her oldest shirt and shorts. Her face was devoid of makeup and her hair was pulled up in a messy pony tail... yet, he thought that she gorgeous? She opened her mouth to thank him, but shut it quickly when he continued.

Thank goodness I had the foresight to fill this up before I left this morning. He removed a small canteen that was tied to his belt and waved it at her. From the way your head was bobbing to whatever music you were listening to, I could tell that you were totally oblivious to the racket I made when I landed in that tree. You didn’t even hear me when I tried shouting to get your attention. Heck, I might still be up there right now if I hadn't sprinkled some of this water on you.

His cocky attitude nettled her. I was enjoying my music, thank you very much. It's not every day that some stranger ends up in our backyard, much less in my mango tree, she huffed. If I’d known that it was my day to rescue clumsy parachutists, I would’ve tried to pay more attention. And now if you’re done heckling me, I would like to get back to my gardening.

Relax, I was just teasing you, he chuckled. You’re a feisty little thing when you get riled up, aren’t you? He paused to give her a disarming smile, which had the desired effect, for she felt her earlier annoyance start to dissipate. But, seriously, I’m really glad that you were in the garden, he continued. And I didn’t mean to be such a grouch earlier … I was just frustrated and more than a little embarrassed. I’ve been skydiving dozens of times before, but this is the first time I’ve ever been tangled up in a tree.

She returned his smile, the sheepish look on his face so comical that she couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped from her lips. At least you can cross getting tangled up in a mango tree off of your lists of things to do while on vacation, she teased.

Most definitely, he grinned. By the way, allow me to introduce myself … my name is Brendon St. John. He held out a hand to her. Thanks again for coming to my rescue.

Her eyes darted from his clean, grime-free hand to her own dirty, mulch-covered ones and she quickly wiped them on the front of her shorts before extending her right hand to him. The feel of his strong fingers closing around hers sent an unfamiliar warmth coursing through her veins.

You’re welcome, she replied with a self-conscious smile. And I’m Savita … Savita Ramotar.

It’s really nice to meet you, Savita Ramotar. A smile hovered on his lips as he rubbed the back of her hand gently with his thumb before releasing it. I’ve never met anyone who could climb a tree like you did. That was pretty impressive.

She shrugged the compliment away. I was born here on this island and climbing trees is a rite of passage for the children here. As a matter of fact, I’ve been climbing that particular tree for as long as I can remember.

Well, where I’m from, girls your age don’t climb trees. In fact, I can bet that most of them don’t even know how. You made it look so easy.

It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it, she said modestly. Her skin still tingled where his thumb had caressed it and she was seized with a sudden longing to have him touch her again. She found herself staring at his lips, watching the sensual way they moved when he spoke, but not hearing a word of what he was saying.

Oh, before I forget … here are your clippers.

What? She looked down at the gardening tool that he held out to her as if she’d never seen it before.

Your clippers, he repeated with an amused curl of his lips. Thanks again for letting me use them.

Oh yes, she gave a short laugh. No problem. When she took the clippers from him, she noticed several small scratches crisscrossing the back of his hand.

Looks like you could use a band aid or two, she said, touching his hand lightly before quickly pulling her fingers away. You’ve got quite a few scratches there.

He glanced down at his hand. Nah, it’s nothing. I’ll be alright.

Are you sure? I can get you some ointment from the house if you’d like.

No worries. It’s fine. He paused to tug at his shirt, examining it for holes. I’m glad that I wore this shirt though. It must be made from some pretty strong material. There’s not even a single rip in it … Cool!

Unfortunately, we can’t say the same for your parachute, she reminded him.

He tilted his head back and looked up towards the top of the tree where the torn ends of the parachute were billowing in the wind. Oh well, at least it’s replaceable, he said. He gave her an apologetic look. I’m sorry for leaving such a mess in your tree. I can climb back up and get my busted chute down now if you’d like.

Don’t worry about it. I’ll send my brother up there later to take it down.

You’re sure?

Positive.

Whew, he said, wiping his forehead in mock relief. "I was hoping that I didn’t have to climb back up that tree. I don’t think that I would be able to navigate those branches as easily as you did. But I will