Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 by Landish, Lauren (bts books to read TXT) 📕

wear for the meeting with Mr. Mobber later. It’s more conservative than I’d like, but I want to look good for my meeting.

“So, how’s the island?” Roxy asks. “I mean, besides the room?”

I sigh dreamily, my irritation momentarily forgotten. “It’s beautiful. You would love it here. You and Jake should take a vacation here sometime.”

“We’ve talked about it before. For now, you just enjoy yourself.”

“I will, I promise,” I reply, but before Roxy can say anything, there’s a slam of a door in the background. “Sounds like you’ve gotta go.”

“Yeah, Sophie just came in. I’ll call you tomorrow or something. Love you.”

“Love you too, Rox,” I say, and we hang up.

“Okay,” I say to Cassie. “Let’s get ready and go get that contract. And pray Myra has a new room for us by the time we’re back.”Hannah

On the way out of the hotel, there’s no sign of the two hot guys we saw in the lobby earlier. In a way, I’m glad because I want to keep my mind on meeting Mr. Mobber. First impressions are important.

I’ve dressed for the weather, a colorful flowered blouse with a blue skirt. Wesley’s instructions were that he wanted us to meet him dressed casually, and while this is more along the lines of business casual, I’m not going to do anything to fuck up my first impression by ignoring him. I check, and Cassie’s dressed similarly, casual without being trashy.

Our cab driver is great, his smile nearly as broad as his massive chest. “Aloha. Hop in, ladies! You got yourself the best cabbie in town. I’ll get you where you need in no time.”

Cassie grins at the giant man, and immediately, she’s talking his head off. We start, and for the next twenty minutes, we’re treated to a spiel worthy of a tour guide as our driver points out the local spots.

We drive through a few tourist hot spots before we start to climb higher. The road wraps around a small mountain before dropping back down a little again, and I see a lagoon surrounded by what has to be paradise on earth. “Oh, my.”

“Wow, this is enormous,” Cassie echoes.

I can only nod my agreement. The road curves as we pass a pineapple grove surrounded by coconut palms. The land is huge, and it seems bigger than even the stats that Myra gave me. Part of it is the hill. It cuts us off from the relative urban setting of Honolulu, and the other natural hills, bathed in the warmth of the sun, give the whole property a secluded, special feeling. I can see why it’s a hot commodity.

The cab pulls up in front of the main gate, which I realize is just a line of banana trees. There’s a small gate, but that’s it. I can see a house in the distance, but I can’t believe it’s for real. We both climb out of the vehicle and pay the man before he drives off.

“What the . . .?” I say in wonder, shielding my eyes from the glow of the sun and staring at the thing in the distance. Even at a hundred yards away, it’s huge.

“That thing looks like something out of Gilligan’s Island,” Cassie remarks.

As we come up the path, I see what she means. The whole house looks like a giant multi-floored thatched roof hut made of bamboo, but like no other hut I’ve ever seen before. “How the hell did he pull off the construction? Shouldn’t the whole damn thing just collapse under that much weight?”

Cassie opens her mouth to answer, but before she can, we’re interrupted. “Hello,” a beautiful female voice says softly. “Are you Hannah Fowler?” We both spin to see a petite Hawaiian woman smiling at us. She’s wearing a tank top with a flowered skirt and a large flower in her hair.

“I am,” I say with a nod. “Are you Mr. Mobber’s assistant?”

“Something like that. I’m Alani,” she says with a nod, smiling softly. “And this is?”

She gestures gracefully to Cassie, and I’m charmed by her movements.

“This is my business partner, Cassie White.”

Alani smiles. “Nice to meet you, Cassie.”

“Aloha,” Cassie says, but I have to cringe as her natural twang turns the greeting into some sort of parody of itself.

Alani, however, seems amused, and she chuckles softly. It’s like everything this woman says or does is soft and graceful. “If you would come this way, Wesley’s been expecting you.”

“Are we late?” I ask, checking my watch as Alani leads us down the path. Past the banana trees, there’s a well-groomed lawn and rows of other bushes and trees that I’m sure are some sort of other small orchard. “What’s that?”

She looks where I’m pointing. “Oh, that’s Wesley’s almond and macadamia grove. He does love his nuts.”

I stop and see huts in the distance off to the side and point. “Outbuildings?”

Alani chuckles. “No, that is my village. Wesley allows us to live off the land provided we work some here, too. We helped build this house.”

“I see,” even if I totally don’t. Isn’t sharecropping illegal? What the hell is going on here?

“There is much for you to learn about this land, and the special nature it has with my village,” Alani says. “I hope that you listen to what Wesley has to say and respect his words. It is . . . important.”

I note her words and follow her the rest of the way up the path. Huge pillars of native hardwoods rise out of the ground, creating the framework that the bamboo sides work between, and the whole thing is suspended a little way off the ground, probably in case of flooding. The windows glow with light, and I can see rolled up mats of probably woven bamboo that can be lowered over the windows to serve as shades or maybe even shutters of some sort.

“Wow, this is . . . different,” Cassie says politely, although I know what she’s thinking, that Wesley is exactly as described—different.

“Thank you,” Alani says. “This is Wesley’s pride