CHAPTER ONE
PARADISE was a sleepy island floating in the Caribbean. It had a bar on the beach, rum on tap and the unique sound of island music, which did seductive things to the hot and humid late afternoon air, while beyond the bar’s open rough-wood construction the silky blue ocean lapped lazily against a white-sand shore.
Sitting on a bar stool with a glass of local rum slotted between his fingers, Elliot Wills decided that it didn’t get any better than this. Admittedly it had taken him more than a week to wind down to the point where he no longer itched to reach for a telephone or felt n***d in bare feet and shorts instead of sharp suits and highly polished leather shoes. Now he would even go as far as to say that he liked his new laid-back self. ‘No worries,’ as the locals liked to
