Sweet Seduction Read Online Free PDF

switched off the lamp and burrowed under the sheet. The hotel might be beautiful but it was still a strange island with animals and insects she had never seen before.
    Kira woke early, disorientated by the time difference. She had had very little sleep, tossing restlessly under the single sheet, listening to a tropical dawn chorus of bird song that was truly glorious. She pulled on a black one-piece swimsuit and a baggy black T-shirt and went down a floor and through the gardens to the beach. The hotel grounds were full of trees, royal palms, mahogany, breadfruit, avocado and the bearded fig trees. Legend had it that the oddly ragged fig tree was the origin of the island’s name. The early Portuguese sailors had called the tree " los Barbudos "; the bearded one.
    The white sand was cool to her feet, powder fine and tickly. Trees and flowering shrubs swept down from the gardens to the wide shore of the curving bay. A few painted boats bobbed on the gentle waves. The sea was a glittering blue and inviting. It was perfection. No wonder they called it a paradise. Kira stretched her arms upwards. She had it all to herself.
    She stripped off the shirt and waded into the sea, letting the cool waves wash against her legs. The surgery scar on her thigh stood out fierce and angry. She ducked under the waves and swam out to one of the boats.
    She hung onto a rope and turned to admire the coastline. For as far as she could see in both directions, it was bay after curving bay of sandy shores lined with sweeping trees and flowering bushes. Between some of the trees, she glimpsed the white and pink coral stonework of private houses built on the Sandy Lane Estate. Film stars, pop idols and millionaires guarded their privacy on this stretch of the coast.
    The water was transparently clear and Kira could see down to the sandy bottom. A shoal of tiny white patterned fish swam passed, darting off at an angle when they sensed her presence.
    How could her mother have left such a heavenly place? Kira remembered their cold and drab homes in North London, often moving from flat to flat as the rents went up. Tamara’s pride had been as unrelenting as her grandfather’s.
    But Kira was here now and she knew without a doubt that she had done the right thing. Bless that persuasive Dr Armstrong. She must send him a card. Wish you were here.
    She would need a mask and airpipe if she was to watch the exotic fish life among the reefs. And her frothy trousseau nightdress was too hot for comfort. She needed a plain cotton one. A shopping trip to Bridgetown was definitely on the agenda.
    She wondered if she could get some visiting cards printed so that she existed, even if only on cardboard. Kira Reed, Research Consultant. And she would invent a string of phone numbers, fax number, email address. Reception might be able to recommend a local printer.
    As the rising sun began to warm the beach, Kira came out of the sea and walked along the shoreline to dry off. Her skin felt smooth and cool. The morning was calm and peaceful, so unlike the bustle of London and the crowded airport. She felt truly alone, and yet not at all lonely.
    Life was stirring. Fishermen were bringing in their catches. A burly man was sweeping the sand outside his wooden beach bar. He nodded and called out a greeting.
    "Good morning, miss. You want a coffee? Coke?"
    "Good morning," Kira smiled back. "Later, thank you."
    She was surprised at the mixture of sea-side dwellings. Next to another luxury hotel with flamboyant gardens was a cluster of old wooden houses, lithe children swinging on a tree that dipped down to the sand. There were well-kept private houses next to shacks made of corrugated iron. Another was a ruin, burnt-out and derelict. There did not seem to be any planning policy.
    The sea was not always clear. Some of the beaches were strewn with rocks and a lighter green showed a sandy channel towards the deeper water.
    Kira climbed round a rocky headland and heard a deal of