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bus ride to the resort. Children dashed off and on the road,
dancing in puddles and dodging vehicles and motorbikes. The rain
had stopped and the sun was poking out again between the clouds. It
was going to be a nice afternoon, after all.
    She knew they were close, she’d followed
along on the map she’d been provided at the car rental desk and had
located all the landmarks along the way. They were on the outskirts
of Negril, with a little further to go, she suspected. And they had
made good time, it seemed, despite stopping to pick up the two of
them in the rainstorm, and for the half-hour they had lost when
they’d made a pit-stop at a roadside shanty so some of the guests
could purchase “necessities.”
    She figured that they should be turning a
sharp curve to the left soon and coming upon a stone entrance just
about....
    Now.
    They had arrived.

 
     
     
    Eleven
     
    Eden II, the Club Regale Resort
     
    The bus rolled between the unmarked stone
pillars of the entrance. At last. A peacefulness wafted over Tasha.
And as they drove slowly through the palm-treed area, up a
vine-covered incline and around a hill, she pulled down the window
beside her on the bus and drank in the essence of bliss. Quiet.
Clean air. Birds chirping. Waves pounding the surf not far
away.
    Andrew Powell and all his idiosyncrasies were
forgotten.
    “Ah... This is going to be heaven.” And after
what she’d gone through to get here, she was ready for it.
    As the bus turned another curve on the narrow
unpaved road, Tasha suddenly found herself faced with a bright open
area, a parking lot about half full of cars, and a magnificent
structure behind it that she recognized from the pictures in the
brochure as the main building for lodging.
    A week of passion and pleasure, the brochure
read, a respite for body and soul and spirit and mind. An
all-inclusive vacation package which boasted of unlimited cocktails
to unending nightlife to sunbathing au naturel...
    Did Andrew Jacob Powell III really know what
he was getting into, Tasha wondered? Might be sort of fun to find
out.
    She grinned.
    The bus stopped. The Regalers, as she’d now
begun to call the Club Regale party-goers, began to exit. And they
were a mighty rowdy bunch!
    It only took her a second to grab her
backpack and her other bag, hop out, and bounce to the front of the
bus to join them. No way would she miss out on the party now.
    And as she exited, she came face to face with
the stuck-up Nordic God whom she suddenly wondered what he would
look like “au naturel.”
    “Hi!”
    Every feature of his face fell. He hugged his
laptop closer to his chest and turned toward the hotel
complex—walking very briskly.
    Tasha followed. “Imagine that. From the
beginning, we were heading to the same place. Who would have
thought it?”
    Andrew humphed.
    “Thought you said you were in Miami on
business?”
    He ignored her, his gaze locked on the
pavement in front of him.
    “Are you in the habit of lying to
people?”
    Andrew stopped and turned. “Leave me alone.
Go bother someone else. You are a walking time bomb and I don’t
want to be around when you explode.” He walked off again.
    Tasha stood still for a moment. “I’m really
not that bad, you know,” she called after him. “Maybe you just need
to loosen up a bit.”
    He stopped cold in his tracks and turned
slightly as if he were going to say something, thought better of
it, then started once more for the hotel. Tasha took off again.
    “Look,” she said, trying to keep up with his
hurried strides. “I’ll apologize about the car thing. I mean, it
must have been this major screw-up or something. It really wasn’t
my fault. And you have to admit, you almost caused us to get killed
back there on that narrow little road.”
    He just looked at her and shook his head.
    They ascended the steps to the hotel.
    “And...and the computer. I said I’d pay for
it, although I know it was probably pretty expensive and it would
take me a while,