by Jo Leigh
“Thanks for letting me handle the situation with Butch this afternoon,” she said. “With the gun, I mean.”
“You did a good job. You had H scared.”
His praise sent a thrill through her. “Really?”
“He couldn’t predict what you would do, and that automatically gave you the upper hand.”
“Maybe there is hope for me after all.”
The smile faded from his face. “You have good instincts. You should trust them more and stop undervaluing yourself.”
Before she could think of something to say, he told her to duck again and brought the boat around.
“Is sailing all you thought it would be?” Cole asked once they were speeding across the cove again.
“Better.” She smiled at him. “Much better. I don’t want to go back to shore. I mean, the Elena in me does, but—”
“I know exactly what you mean.” With a laugh, he patted the seat beside him. “Do you want to try sailing her?”
“Me?”
He nodded. “You.”
“How badly do you want to capsize?”
Cole threw back his head and laughed. Then he extended a hand. “C’mon. I’ll help you.”
PARADISE WAS WEARING a bit thin, Irene thought as she looked at the stretch of white sand and turquoise-blue water ahead of her. As scenery, it rated full marks—ten out of ten. Still, after an hour of walking, it was beginning to annoy her.
She shot a look at the man walking beside her. “How much longer do you think we have?”
He smiled at her. “An hour or so. We’re making good time so far.”
Irene studied him for a minute. Did the man never lose that positive attitude? “You know you’ve been a good sport, coming along with me like this.”
“No problem. I came here looking for a bit of adventure, and you’re providing it in spades.”
Irene stopped short. “If you’re looking for a sexual adventure, you’re not striking pay dirt here.”
Happy’s smile widened as he walked forward. “Yeah. I think I got that part. You’ve got a man on that other island. Why don’t you tell me about him?”
Irene double-stepped to catch up with him. “Why would I do that?”
“To pass the time. As beautiful as it is, this scenery gets a bit boring after a while.”
“Doesn’t it though,” Irene said. “The color of that water doesn’t even look real to me. It’s beginning to annoy me. Maybe I’m not cut out to live in paradise, you know?”
Happy chuckled. “Yeah. It’s a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there?”
Irene frowned. “Yeah. I just thought about getting here. I haven’t given much thought to what would happen next.”
“So what’s his name?” Happy asked.
She glanced at him, but he was looking straight ahead. She might as well tell him about Butch. What did she have to lose? And talking about it might help her to sort through all the thoughts that had been tumbling through her mind. “Butch Castellano. He owns the resort over there on Escapade Island.”
“Ah,” Happy said. “So he’s committed to living here.”
“Yeah. He decided to build his own retirement home and a business venture at the same time.”
“Smart man,” Happy commented.
Ahead of them, the beach curved sharply. As they rounded it, Irene saw another seemingly endless stretch of sand and water ahead.
“So how long have you known this guy?”
“Forty years,” she said.
Happy missed a step. “I never thought to ask. Are you married?”
“No,” Irene muttered. “I thought we were going to be. That was the plan, but a little while ago, he changed his mind, sort of. I came here to change it back.”
Happy said nothing.
After a moment, she turned to him. “Have you ever fallen in love at first sight?”
Happy met her gaze, and for the first time, his expression was serious. “Maybe. Maybe I did on that plane.”
She frowned at him and resisted the urge to give him a good hard shove. “Don’t even start. You’re too old to fall in love at first sight. You should know better. I was only eighteen when I first met Butch Castellano. So I have an excuse. I was just a kid and he was only a couple of years older, handsome as sin and just a bit wild. He rode a motorcycle.”
“What happened?” Happy asked as they resumed walking.
“That was it for me. I fell in love with him, and I’ve never fallen out.”
“Why didn’t you get together and live happily ever after?”
“He had some family problems. He’d been born into a crime family. An accident of birth. My parents didn’t approve of him. His family didn’t approve of me either, for that matter. Long story short, they all ganged up on me. Even Butch. He told me he wasn’t good enough for me and that he couldn’t see me again. My parents packed up and moved from New Jersey to San Francisco. And I went along with it. I thought that in a few years, when I was a bit older, everyone would see it differently. And then Butch went to jail.”
“Bummer,” Happy said. But he sounded pretty cheerful about it.
Irene frowned at him. “It wasn’t his fault. He took the rap for someone, and while he was in jail, he went straight. Every single cent he’s earned has been legit. And he’s made a fortune.”
“Okay, okay,” Happy said. “I believe you. I take it you kept in touch with him all these years.”
“Yeah. We were supposed to get together when he finally got out of jail. But he changed his mind. He drummed up some lame excuse about still not being good enough for me. He values our friendship and doesn’t want to ruin it. It’s bullshit. All of it.”
“And you came here to set him straight?”
Irene fisted her hands on her hips. “Yeah. Not good enough for me. Ha! I showed him. I stole a Monet to prove to him that I’m bad enough for him.”
Happy stopped short and stared at her. “You stole a Monet?”
She whirled to face him. “I did.”
Happy’s smile was the brightest she’d ever seen it. “You’re a real pip of a woman, Irene. Your Butch is a stupid man if he doesn’t see that.”
“Yeah. But I had a better chance of proving it to him before that jackass Frenchman drugged me and stole the painting. I’m betting he’s on that island right now, selling the damn thing to Butch. I can’t let Butch buy a stolen painting. That’s why I have to get to the island.”
“Right,” Happy said moving forward. “Let’s pick up the pace, shall we?”
8
Friday, February 13—5:30 p.m.
COLE KEPT HIS HAND over Pepper’s on the tiller as the small sailboat raced across the cove. He was acutely aware that time was flying by just as fast.
Ever since Butch had come up with his theory that Irene might have taken the connecting flight to Eden Island by mistake, he’d known that his time alone on the island with Pepper was running out.
At any moment Butch might call. Cole was pretty sure that if Irene was on that island, Butch’s man would find her and bring her back posthaste. And there was so much he wanted to show Pepper, to share with her. He wondered if Adam had felt this same kind of urgency with Elena.
“Think you’ve got the feel of it?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“I’m going to take my hand off. Ready?”
She nodded, and he lifted his hand.
“Now, push to the left a little.”
She did, and suddenly they were cutting across the wind, picking up speed. When they were nearly to the other side of the cove, he told her exactly what to do to turn the boat in a half circle, warning her to duck when the boom came around. Seconds later, they were racing across the surface of the water once more, and she was laughing.
He knew that moment would remain with him for ever.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“It’s amazing.” She laughed again for the pure joy of it. “It’s even more f
un to be in control.”
“Always. To the left now.”
She did what he suggested, and he could see that she was beginning to get the feel of it. But he didn’t move away. He didn’t want to. He liked the feel of that small slender body resting against his side. He’d waited a long time to get this close.
“Where did you learn to sail?” she asked.
Without thinking, he said, “One of my foster parents was ex-navy. He kept a small boat, just a little bigger than this one, and the one summer I lived with him we’d sneak off for a sail whenever the weather was good enough.” He hadn’t allowed himself to think of that summer for years.
“What happened?” she asked.
“We had a great time. He talked about adopting me. A little to the left.”
“Did he adopt you?”
“No. He died in a car accident over Labor Day weekend, and his wife didn’t want the responsibility of a twelve-year-old. She preferred babies. You can’t blame her.” He hadn’t thought of that rejection in years either.
She reached out and placed her free hand on top of his. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m very ungrateful the way I ranted on and on about how rejected I feel because Peter never contacted me until I was twenty-five. And my grandmother and I may have had our issues, but she didn’t reject me either. She did her best to raise me the way she thought a Pendleton should be raised.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“You never got adopted?”
“No. I never expected to be after that. The longest I ever stayed anywhere was two years. By the time I met Luke in college, I was on my own. Your father and brothers have always made me feel a part of the Rossi family.”
“Good.” She tightened her grip on his hand.
He said nothing as a wave of feelings swept through him. Her concern had something inside of him softening again. He never spoke about his past. He seldom thought about it anymore. But she shouldn’t be feeling sorry for him. “There’s nothing about my past that I regret. For better or worse, it’s made me the man I am today.”
She studied him. “I’ve never thought about it much, but that’s true about me too.”
“Yes.” He might have said something more, but just then the sail began to flap.
“A little to the left, now,” he said.
The boat gathered speed again, and for a time, they concentrated on keeping it on course.
This time when they reached the other side of the cove, he let her bring the boat around by herself. Then as she was about to cut across the wind again, he stilled her hand on the tiller.
“What?” she asked.
He lifted his sunglasses and frowned as he ran a finger down her nose and along her collarbone. “You’re turning pink. We’d better take a break and put some sunscreen on. The sun in the tropics can be dangerous.”
But instead of heading toward shore, he helped her sail the boat around the point at one end of the cove. The wind was brisker here, the waves a bit rougher. He took over the tiller and began to tack toward the land. Eventually, he turned the boat into a lagoon.
Water and wind stilled at nearly the same time. Cole let the boat drift a while before he lowered the sails, secured the boom, and dropped an anchor over the side. Here in the late afternoon, sun slanted through the palms, and the water was a deeper blue, but it was still crystal clear.
“This is lovely,” Pepper said. “I think I saw this lagoon from the plane as we came in. How did you find it?”
“I did a little exploring after I arrived yesterday, and I thought of bringing you here.”
She stared at him. “You did? I mean…that was before I told you about Aunt Irene and we made our deal. You still thought that I was a thief.”
He unzipped her duffel and pulled out the sunscreen he’d bought at the hotel gift shop. “I thought you might enjoy it. Turn around. I’ll do your back first.”
But she didn’t turn. Instead, she reached out to grab his wrist. Then she used her other hand to remove his sunglasses. “Why? Why would you have thought of bringing me here when you were certain that I took that Monet and when you suspected I might have done it to score some points off you?”
He regarded her for a moment. “Because I want you. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you in your father’s kitchen. Do you remember?”
She swallowed, then moistened her lips. “Yes.”
“When you arrived, you were wearing a white linen dress, and there were pearls at your throat and in your ears.” With one finger he traced a line around her throat where the pearls had lain.
“I remember,” she said. “The Friday before, Matt and Luke had told me that they’d hired you. They were so full of praise, so happy that you’d finally agreed to accept a job. I was so annoyed at you and so jealous, and when I saw you with them at the party, I was more jealous than ever.”
His brows drew together. “Why?”
“You seemed to fit in so well with them. You were standing with Luke and Matt and you were so relaxed and at home.”
He smiled. “I wasn’t relaxed. I was thinking of how quickly I could get you out of that dress and wondering if I’d ever have the chance to do it.”
“I was thinking that I would never be able to compete with you, either at work or with my family. I wanted to hate you. But I wanted you too.”
“Pepper—”
“That’s why I left Evan and went into the kitchen. I needed a moment to gather my thoughts and compose myself.”
“I followed you into the kitchen because I couldn’t help myself, and the moment that I looked into your eyes, I couldn’t think at all.”
“Me, too. I couldn’t understand how I could feel the things I was feeling about you. When you took the sliver of glass out of my hand, I nearly kissed you. I was feeling the same way when I kissed you in the Atwells’ suite. I could have stalled and kept you outside long enough for my aunt to get away with the painting. But I’d been wanting to kiss you for so long. I don’t understand it.”
Her words had him feeling an ache deep down that stunned him. Her eyes were huge, and he was close enough to see the brown flecks in that deep golden color. Her hair stood up in spikes from the spray and the wind. Once again, he thought she looked like some kind of sprite that would exist only in an enchanted place.
No woman had ever made him think in such a fanciful way. No woman had ever made him ache like this. He didn’t understand it either, and he wanted her so much that he didn’t dare to touch her. If he did, he would take her quickly—and he wanted to do more for her, for them both. Setting the sunscreen down, he pulled a towel out of the duffel and spread it on the bow of the boat.
“Do you suppose that Adam and Elena ever met in a place like this?”
He turned back to her. She was asking if he wanted to slip into the fantasy again. Maybe if he did, he’d be able to keep a better hold on his control. Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips. “I think they came here every chance they got. It was far too dangerous to keep meeting in his rooms. The word might spread to his parents that he was favoring one slave over another.”
“Even when they met here, they wouldn’t have long,” Pepper said. “She would be missed in the fields.”
“He’d have to get back to the plantation. So they’d meet on the beach or here where they couldn’t be interrupted.” He took her hand and drew her toward him. “Turn around and stretch out on the bow of the boat.”
PEPPER MANAGED TO do what he asked though she wasn’t sure how. She felt so weak and the feeling in her body only grew as he began to rub the sunscreen into her shoulders and the back of her neck. At first the shade provided by the overhead palms had provided relief from the sun, but here in the lagoon there was no breeze.
The cream felt cool, but his hands were warm as he began to rub them over her. Sensations streamed through her. The bow of the boat was hot from the sun, but it was nothing compared to the heat that was beginning to build inside her.
&nb
sp; “I’ve been thinking about touching you like this,” Cole said as he moved his hands in long, gentle strokes down her back.
He wasn’t giving her a massage exactly. He wasn’t concerned with her muscles—only the skin, and he wasn’t missing an inch of it. His hands were so light, moving down her arms to her fingers and back up again. Far away, she caught the faint sound of the sea pushing into the shore. Overhead, a seagull called, and palm leaves whispered in the wind.
Had Adam been this gentle with Elena? Could she have lain here just like this, floating on a cloud of pleasure?
The slow, patient brush of his hands, the steady repetition of the pattern mesmerized her, sensitized her. Then he pressed only his fingers down the length of her spine, and the arrow of heat that shot through her made her gasp.
“You’re so sensitive,” he murmured. “It’s addictive.”
“Don’t stop.” Her voice was shaky.
He drew his hands down one of her arms and began to slowly spread the sunscreen between her fingers. “I’m not going to stop until I’ve touched every single inch of you. Do you understand?”
“Mmm,” she murmured. Was he thinking of Elena now or of her?
He began to stroke the backs of her thighs, her calves, her ankles, and the heat grew more intense. When he began to rub sunscreen over the soles of her feet and between her toes, she didn’t think she could stand it any more. “Please,” she murmured. And she wasn’t sure whether she wanted him to stop or go on. “Please.”
“Soon,” he promised.
Trapped between pleasure and torture, her eyes drifted shut and her world narrowed to this one man and his touch.
WHEN HE COULD NO longer resist, Cole turned her over and began to rub sunscreen on her shoulders and chest. She wore a simple one-piece tank suit of some thin, stretchy material that he could see her nipples through. They were already erect and hard. It took all of his control not to touch them. Instead, he tortured them both by merely using his fingers to spread the cream down her throat and along the material that rode low across her breasts and high on her thighs. By the time he got to her inner thighs, his intention to go slowly was fading and his control was beginning to slip. Her body was already arching toward him. At some point, he’d lost the thread of the fantasy he’d been weaving, and he wanted her out of it too. Setting aside the sunscreen, he wiped his hands on the edge of the towel she was lying on and then stretched out beside her.
