close so Dutch could hear her over the fray.
“The Christmas village gets bigger every year. Tourists want to see displays like they do at home, and you know how we Anguillans are. We want everyone to be happy here.” He shrugged and walked them towards the line of market tents.
“Do you consider yourself Anguillan? I always think of you as Dutch.”
“It’s my name, and I am proud that I came from Holland, but Anguilla is my home. And yours. You’re a native.” He reached over and tweaked her nose like he’d done when she was a child.
She grinned, starting to laugh as he stopped at a booth offering up the most pathetic-looking pine twigs planted in buckets of sand. “In the States, these are what we call Charlie Brown trees.”
“If I’d have known you were coming, I would have ordered a tree for you.”
“That would have ruined my surprise. The look on your face was priceless. Well worth doing without a tree for the holiday.”
“Are you sure? I don’t have any decorations for the house at all.”
She nodded and started them down the row, her gaze catching on a table of used books. With import taxes so high, nearly every paperback came in second hand. The country needed the tourism dollars from the Estate so they could ease off taxes on their citizens. She bought books new, and on impulse. Sometimes a dozen at a time. A habit she’d never fully appreciated until now.
“Dad, I want to invest in the Estate. We haven’t seen much money from the initial contract yet, but it’s coming.”
He dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. “You build your business first, then worry about investments. If you overextend yourself, there is nothing to give from later.”
“This isn’t make-your-rent kind of money. It’s buy-a-house money. I need to invest in something.”
“So buy a house. The Estate hasn’t sold all the condos available. If you want to contribute, do it that way until you’re more stable.” He stopped at a stall offering woven baskets, but didn’t seem to see them.
“I can afford to do more. Really.” He didn’t seem to hear her as he moved to the next booth teeming with handcrafted sea-glass jewelry.
“ Meisje , please. Trust an old man on this. Never invest more than you can afford to lose.”
“I suppose you’re right.” A steel drum rendition of “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” floated through the air. Her mind slipped back to her first holiday in Florida and how sad she’d been that the Christmas music had sounded so produced. She’d felt like such a freak those first years, begging her mother to let them return home.
It had gotten easier as she’d made friends, but there had always been a part of her that longed to be here, embraced by warm sea air, laughter and the savory smoke of barbeque flirting with the sweet perfume of flowers.
“Fathers aren’t always right, meisje . I’ve invested everything into the Estate. I have more of a stake in its success than anyone.”
“I guess you think our family has put enough into it. I see that.”
Her father cleared his throat as if he meant to say more, but her attentions slipped away as Johannes and Harm sauntered into view. She really ought to take a picture of them, because Holly wasn’t going to buy how great they looked. Too bad Harm’s personality made his masculine beauty a complete waste.
Johannes looked so tempting in just red board shorts and sandals, she wished they were alone. His pale blue gaze locked on to hers, drawing her in with such confidence, such transparent desire her knees threatened to give in. Heat flushed her skin, her pulse raced and her stomach tightened, trying to hold back the yearning for him. Apparently, two days was long enough for her body to crave him.
“Boys!” Her father waved and started walking towards them.
Sass had a moment of sheer panic. She’d never had to deal with her father and a lover before. And now, there was so much at stake for them both, she
“The Christmas village gets bigger every year. Tourists want to see displays like they do at home, and you know how we Anguillans are. We want everyone to be happy here.” He shrugged and walked them towards the line of market tents.
“Do you consider yourself Anguillan? I always think of you as Dutch.”
“It’s my name, and I am proud that I came from Holland, but Anguilla is my home. And yours. You’re a native.” He reached over and tweaked her nose like he’d done when she was a child.
She grinned, starting to laugh as he stopped at a booth offering up the most pathetic-looking pine twigs planted in buckets of sand. “In the States, these are what we call Charlie Brown trees.”
“If I’d have known you were coming, I would have ordered a tree for you.”
“That would have ruined my surprise. The look on your face was priceless. Well worth doing without a tree for the holiday.”
“Are you sure? I don’t have any decorations for the house at all.”
She nodded and started them down the row, her gaze catching on a table of used books. With import taxes so high, nearly every paperback came in second hand. The country needed the tourism dollars from the Estate so they could ease off taxes on their citizens. She bought books new, and on impulse. Sometimes a dozen at a time. A habit she’d never fully appreciated until now.
“Dad, I want to invest in the Estate. We haven’t seen much money from the initial contract yet, but it’s coming.”
He dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. “You build your business first, then worry about investments. If you overextend yourself, there is nothing to give from later.”
“This isn’t make-your-rent kind of money. It’s buy-a-house money. I need to invest in something.”
“So buy a house. The Estate hasn’t sold all the condos available. If you want to contribute, do it that way until you’re more stable.” He stopped at a stall offering woven baskets, but didn’t seem to see them.
“I can afford to do more. Really.” He didn’t seem to hear her as he moved to the next booth teeming with handcrafted sea-glass jewelry.
“ Meisje , please. Trust an old man on this. Never invest more than you can afford to lose.”
“I suppose you’re right.” A steel drum rendition of “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” floated through the air. Her mind slipped back to her first holiday in Florida and how sad she’d been that the Christmas music had sounded so produced. She’d felt like such a freak those first years, begging her mother to let them return home.
It had gotten easier as she’d made friends, but there had always been a part of her that longed to be here, embraced by warm sea air, laughter and the savory smoke of barbeque flirting with the sweet perfume of flowers.
“Fathers aren’t always right, meisje . I’ve invested everything into the Estate. I have more of a stake in its success than anyone.”
“I guess you think our family has put enough into it. I see that.”
Her father cleared his throat as if he meant to say more, but her attentions slipped away as Johannes and Harm sauntered into view. She really ought to take a picture of them, because Holly wasn’t going to buy how great they looked. Too bad Harm’s personality made his masculine beauty a complete waste.
Johannes looked so tempting in just red board shorts and sandals, she wished they were alone. His pale blue gaze locked on to hers, drawing her in with such confidence, such transparent desire her knees threatened to give in. Heat flushed her skin, her pulse raced and her stomach tightened, trying to hold back the yearning for him. Apparently, two days was long enough for her body to crave him.
“Boys!” Her father waved and started walking towards them.
Sass had a moment of sheer panic. She’d never had to deal with her father and a lover before. And now, there was so much at stake for them both, she
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