The Jaguar Star (Tales of the Were: Jaguar Island Book 4) Read online

Page 13


  Lucinda—aka “Lucky”—Pendleton and her little brother, Keith, were well known among the Clan for being both fantastically gifted pilots and good fun. They were forever playing tricks on each other when they weren’t flying. Thankfully, their mischievous ways were limited to ground maneuvers. When they were in the air, they were all business. The consummate, competent professionals.

  Ren felt a flush of satisfaction when Kat boarded the jet. There was a Clan member looking after the cabin. Lucky and Keith’s younger sister, whom everyone called Sissy. She was already learning to fly, but her siblings insisted learning every aspect of running the larger jets was a good idea. Plus, she could earn a little pocket money keeping the galley running and handing out snacks on the larger planes. It would be a few years yet before she was old enough to fly as a co-pilot, but she was working her way toward just that.

  Ren nodded at Sissy, indicating where he wanted her to seat Kat. The plane was configured more casually than a passenger liner. The seats were larger and more spaced out. They were also placed in groupings where some faced forward and some faced back, so they could chat or eat together with others. Ren wanted to share one of the two-seat units with Kat so he could sit across from her while they ate and chat with her privately—or as privately as they could get with so many sharp-eared Clanmates around.

  Ren arranged it so that he was the last one on board. He helped Sissy close the hatch and said hello to Lucky and Keith briefly before taking the only open seat in the cabin…directly across from Kat. He liked the way her eyes widened when she realized she would be sitting across from him for the flight.

  They began taxiing, and everybody strapped in and changed the orientation of their chairs for takeoff, where possible. Sissy helped stow last-minute items and then took her own seat just as they reached the end of the runway.

  A few minutes later, they were airborne, the thrust of the engines propelling them into the air. It was exhilarating, and Ren never tired of the feeling of takeoff. He had a smile on his face as they levelled out. Now, the wooing would begin. He had a plan for the next few days, and convincing Kat that he was serious about her was right at the top of his list of to do’s. Starting now.

  Katrina was surprised when Ren took the seat opposite her. She realized someone must have arranged the semi-private setting for them, and her breath caught at the idea that Ren, himself, might’ve done it. Was this some kind of overture? And, if it was, could it be trusted?

  She didn’t think he was a shallow movie-star type. Not anymore. She sensed there was more depth to him, and he’d been nothing but kind to her over the past week of filming. But was he interested in some sort of fling? With her? Truly?

  And would she be ten kinds of an idiot to let it happen? Or would she regret it for the rest of her life if she turned down any overture he might make?

  She was probably over-thinking this. Maybe he just wanted to sit with her for some reason. Maybe he wanted a quiet companion for the flight, rather than the more raucous conversations she could just hear over the engine noise going on in the other seating areas. On this side of the aisle, there were a few two-seat arrangements, but on the other side, the groupings were larger, with four or six sitting together in various configurations.

  Greg and Liatha Mendez quietly shared the two-seat arrangement just behind them, and to the other side of the loosely marked aisle, a group of four that included the Hilliard brothers, Deidre and Franny were chatting up a storm already.

  Since Ren and Katrina were closest to the cockpit and the small galley, the young girl who had helped Katrina find her seat and stow her luggage came to them first. She brought a tray filled with a selection of sandwiches and had a rolling cart with different choices of juice and snack items. Ren introduced her, demonstrating his familiarity with the plane and its crew.

  “Sissy, this is Kat,” he said, smiling at the girl, who had to be in her teens.

  “You’re playing Maid Marian,” Sissy said. “I can’t wait to see the movie.”

  Katrina was touched by the girl’s enthusiasm and smiled back. “Neither can I,” she admitted. “It all still feels kind of unreal.”

  “I bet. Uncle Ren let me visit him on the set during his last film shoot, and it was so cool. It almost made me want to work with these guys, but I like flying too much to change course now,” Sissy added. “My family is teaching me to fly, and one day, I’ll be working with my sister and brother, who are in the cockpit right now.”

  “Now, that is truly cool,” Katrina told the girl. “Flying a plane takes a lot of skill and talent, from what I’ve heard. And, I suspect, a lot of guts.”

  Sissy shrugged. “I grew up around planes,” she said nonchalantly. “It’s in my blood, my folks say.”

  The girl moved her little cart to the next group and served drinks before pulling out another giant platter of sandwiches from the lower portion of the cart. She left two platters with Franny and the gang, as well as a whole bottle of juice and cups with ice before moving on to the couple seated behind Katrina.

  “Uncle Ren?” Katrina asked, one eyebrow raised as she smiled at him.

  Ren had already demolished half of a giant roast beef sandwich. He swallowed before answering as Katrina chose a small egg salad sandwich for herself from the platter.

  “Sissy’s mother is my sister, Rowena,” he admitted. “Her husband, Mike, was a commercial pilot for one of the big carriers, but he’s employed by Mark’s company now, as are my sister and their kids. They all fly, though Ro and Mike tend to stay in the office these days while their offspring roam the skies on behalf of Pepard Industries.”

  “That’s really impressive,” Katrina replied, feeling the truth of her words. Flying was something she’d always found fascinating. “Do you know how to fly, too?” she asked impulsively.

  “Actually, I do. I keep my license current, but I don’t get as many cockpit hours as the rest of my immediate family these days,” he told her.

  “Too busy making movies,” she said, nodding as she smiled.

  “Something like that,” he agreed. “Speaking of Hollywood, Sully is already on the island. I know you wanted to meet her.”

  “I can’t believe I’m going to meet Sullivan Lane,” Katrina gushed, feeling excitement fill her at the prospect of meeting one of her favorite actresses.

  Ren’s famously green eyes flared with amusement. “She and her husband are building on to their home, and Shelly, Mark’s wife, is designing it for them. She’s an architect,” he added. “From what I understand, Mark and Shelly are hosting an informal reception at the mansion when we arrive. You can meet everybody there.”

  The flight wasn’t a long one. There had been no wait time at the airport as there always was with commercial flights. They’d simply shown up and boarded the jet, which had taken off shortly thereafter. Katrina was amazed at how rich folk travelled. There seemed to be no hassle, and everything happened on a custom timetable.

  Ren was eating his second sandwich when Sissy came back to tell them all that they’d be landing in a half-hour and that she was beginning the process of stowing things for landing. It didn’t take long for them to get on the ground, and Katrina watched out the window the whole way down.

  The island, as seen from the air, was stunning. A tropical paradise of green in a clear blue ocean. White sandy beach could be seen in spots, but mostly, the island looked like a big mountain—which she knew was a dormant volcano—that rose sharply from the sea. The only inviting part, where a few boats bobbed in the water and a long landing strip could be seen, was on the side of the island they were approaching.

  The pilots skillfully brought the craft down and landed with hardly a bump on an impossibly narrow strip of runway that was unlike anything Katrina had seen at the few airports she had flown to or from in her life. This airstrip was definitely unique, but it seemed safe as they taxied a short distance once the jet had slowed down enough to roll along on the ground.

  It took almost no tim
e at all before they were parked on the ground near a large door that looked as if it was built almost directly into the mountain. Perhaps it was. Katrina didn’t know much about how things were done on this island, but it was just possible the eccentric billionaire who owned it had burrowed into the side of the volcano to build his private airplane hangar. It felt like something out of a comic book, but who better to build a secret lair than the reclusive Mark Pepard?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Within moments of the jet coming to a complete halt, Sissy opened the door to the outside, and everybody was out of their seats, stretching and heading for the door. Since they were seated near the front of the plane, Katrina and Ren were among the first out.

  Katrina’s first view of the island from the ground was impressive. As she stepped off the plane, she got a lungful of moist tropical air that smelled faintly of the many flowers that she could see blooming in the not-too-distant foliage. The airstrip was small, and though she was no expert, it looked as if a large part of it was actually a pier that extended into the ocean.

  Only a few people were there to greet the plane, and most of them looked like they were there strictly to help with the aircraft. Nobody was in a uniform, per se, but one or two folks were wearing coveralls that made them look as if they were mechanics. Even as Katrina watched from the tarmac while everybody else got off the plane, one of the men in coveralls began unloading luggage from the plane and putting it in a cart.

  “John will bring all our bags up to the house,” Ren told her, coming up to her side.

  He’d taken a moment to greet the people on the ground as soon as he’d come down the steps. He’d had a few words with everyone, hugging them all like they were part of his extended family. Perhaps, they were. He lived here when he wasn’t filming, after all, and she already knew the pilots and Sissy were related to him. Maybe the rest of his family lived here, too.

  “We can take a golf cart up to the house, if you like,” Ren went on. “Or we could walk. It’s not too far, and it might be nice to stretch your legs a bit after sitting so long. What do you say?”

  He looked so eager and happy to be here, she couldn’t help but return his smile. “Let’s walk, by all means. It’s such a beautiful day; it’s nice to be outside.”

  It looked like everyone on the flight chose to walk as Katrina glanced back and found everyone strolling along the winding path that seemed to lead up to the white-columned mansion in the distance. The foliage was dense and tropical. It was like nothing Katrina had ever seen close up before. She thought she caught the flash of spotted fur a few times among the dense leaves, but she couldn’t be certain and didn’t want to sound foolish by asking. Surely, there had to be some sort of wildlife on this island oasis, but it probably wasn’t dangerous to people walking up this well-used path.

  When they got to the mansion, Ren walked right in, apparently familiar enough with the owners to take that sort of liberty. The others followed behind, just as easily, and Katrina started to wonder just how friendly the Pepards would be to all these film people showing up in the middle of their well-appointed and massive-scale foyer. She didn’t have to wonder for long as the man himself appeared from a side corridor, a broad smile on his face.

  Ren went right up to Mark Pepard and gave him a bear hug. Nonplussed by the familiar greeting, Katrina held back, meeting the gaze of the blonde woman who arrived just behind Pepard. She smiled at Katrina and rolled her eyes indulgently at the men as she stepped around them to offer her hand.

  “I’m Shelly, Mark’s wife. You must be Katrina.” The women shook hands politely, exchanging smiles.

  “Thank you for inviting me. Your house is lovely,” Katrina offered, but Shelly waved away her compliment.

  “It’s good if you like big, white, boxy mansions, but I didn’t design it. I’ve been working on community buildings and individual houses for folks who live farther inland. Some of my best work, if I do say so myself,” Shelly added with a slight bow of her head.

  “Ren told me you were an architect,” Katrina replied. “He was very enthusiastic about your design sense.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Shelly told her, smiling.

  Ren and Mark joined them at that point, and Ren made the formal introduction. Katrina shook Mark’s hand, and it was one of those moments in her life that stood out, somehow. The energy of this reclusive billionaire was something she’d only ever experienced with Ren. He had a zapping sort of electricity about him that spoke of power held in check.

  With Ren, it was more obvious because of his magnetic green eyes, but Mark’s slightly darker green gaze snapped with the same intelligence and leashed fury of Ren’s energy. The only difference was that Mark seemed more focused. More grounded, somehow. And, when he put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and smiled congenially, Katrina figured it had to be because he was connected on a deep level to Shelly.

  Mark’s wife had already impressed Katrina as a down-to-earth sort of woman, and the love between the couple was more than obvious to anyone who looked closely. They leaned into each other like newlyweds, and Katrina remembered that their marriage was still relatively recent, only a year or two since they met and wed in what had been described in the papers as a whirlwind romance.

  They were chatting politely about the film when a large tough-looking man arrived at Mark’s side, a woman at his side. Mark clapped the man on the back and brought the couple forward for introductions.

  “Katrina, this is our Head of Security, Nick Balam and his wife, Sully. You may recognize her as someone from your own line of work,” Mark teased.

  “Sullivan Lane,” Katrina stated, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand. “I’m a big fan,” she gushed, as the others smiled indulgently.

  “And I’m a fan of yours,” Sully shocked Katrina by replying. “Sonia sent me some clips from your work this past week, and it’s like you were born for the part, Kat. I was really impressed.”

  Hearing that from an actress she admired so much struck Katrina speechless, but Ren came to her rescue, stepping in to greet the new couple. By the time she’d recovered, there were other people to meet, though Sully and her husband, Nick, stayed with their small group throughout the next half-hour.

  When a meal was announced, they all walked into the room next door together. It turned out to be a grand ballroom that had been set up with round tables and a giant buffet. As Katrina had come to expect, the cast members descended on the food with gusto. Ren seated her with Shelly and Sully at one of the large tables and went off with their husbands towards the buffet.

  Katrina decided to wait until the crowd around the buffet died down a bit to get her plate and take advantage of the time to get to know Sully and Shelly a bit better. They talked of the film and Sully’s experiences filming big-budget features, and before Katrina realized how much time had passed, the men returned. She was floored to find that Ren had put together a plate of food for her, much as Mark and Nick had done for their wives. Ren had even seemed to note the kinds of foods Katrina preferred and had made the portion only a little larger than she would have taken for herself.

  “You’ll catch flies if you leave your mouth hanging open like that,” Ren whispered to her as he sat at her side, lowering his own heaping plate to the table at the same time.

  Sputtering a little, Katrina managed to thank him and close her gaping mouth. She had no idea what was going on here, but it certainly felt like Ren was playing the part of her… What? Boyfriend?

  She shook her head slightly at her own thoughts and decided to turn her attention to her plate for a moment while she regrouped. Conversation flowed around her as Nick and Mark talked with Ren, and the other ladies put in a few words here and there.

  “What are your plans for later?” Mark asked Ren as Katrina remained quiet.

  “I thought I’d show Kat around the island a bit. Maybe take her up to the rim and show her my place,” he replied easily, surprising her yet again.

&nbs
p; “Well, there’s a room for you here if you want it. We have plenty of space,” Shelly said, speaking directly to Katrina. For some reason, Mark and Nick were frowning but didn’t say anything. Katrina didn’t understand a lot about these people, but she took Shelly’s words at face value and thanked her for her thoughtfulness.

  After dinner, Katrina found herself in an open-roofed Jeep heading up the mountain on a twisty track that was more overgrown jungle than road, but Ren seemed at home behind the wheel, guiding the vehicle competently upward. The Jeep was green, blending in well with the foliage around them.

  She thought she caught occasional flashes of something moving at speed alongside their path, but it couldn’t be what she thought. It couldn’t be cat eyes that met hers for a brief instant as they rolled along the jungle path. And it couldn’t be golden fur that showed through the tiny breaks in the leaves as it passed beneath the thick foliage. No way… Right?

  Katrina began to fear that they were being stalked.

  “Uh…Ren? Are there like…um…jungle cats on this island?” she asked, talking loudly to be heard over the engine noise and gentle breeze that ruffled her hair.

  “Don’t worry. Nothing here will ever hurt you,” he replied.

  “That doesn’t really answer my question,” she told him, speaking a little more softly and keeping her eyes peeled for another flash of golden-brown fur streaking alongside them in the undergrowth.

  They were climbing steadily, and he slowed as they came to an area of the path that seemed to be carved into the side of the mountain. It was open on one side, the dense jungle falling below the side of this small stretch of road. Ren pointed toward the jewel blue of the ocean far below.

  “Take a look at that view,” he said, doing just that as he rested his hands on the top of the steering wheel. “That never gets old.”