by Jo Leigh
“What do you mean?”
“You’re still wearing masks with them.”
Color rose in her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. “You see everything, don’t you?”
“I see what you’re doing because I’ve worn a lot of masks myself. If you stop wearing them, you might discover qualities in yourself that you like.”
She said nothing, and after a moment he continued. “I had to play the fitting in game a lot, and I learned that I had a better chance if I played to my strengths. At Rossi Investigations, you should do the same thing. You have good instincts. And you have Luke’s brain. Matt’s the one with the street smarts and the brawn. They make a good team, because they don’t try to be what they’re not. And they could use you because you’re something that they’re not. You’re a woman. And even if you didn’t turn yourself into a perfect Pendleton, you have class. Plus, you have the same kind of determination that your aunt does. Think about it.”
She would, Pepper decided. But right now, she was thinking about the boy who’d had to fit in with more families than she could imagine.
Cole took her hand and drew her to her feet. “While we’re waiting for your whiz-kid brother to work his magic, I have an idea about what we can do to pass the time.”
“So do I,” she said. “I’ll race you to the cave.” Then she dove into the lagoon.
10
Friday, February 13—8:30 p.m.
PEPPER GLANCED AT herself in the mirror that filled one wall of the small room. She was dressing for a date with Cole Buchanan, and for some reason the idea had nerves tangling in her stomach.
Cole had proposed the idea when they’d been sailing back from the lagoon. After all, he’d argued, they really hadn’t gone out on an official first date yet, and since they were going to “accidentally” bump into Evan and Jean Claude at the poolside café, why not combine their sleuthing activities with a date?
Cole had overcome her one objection that she didn’t have anything to wear by escorting her to one of the shops that opened off the main lobby of the hotel and placing her in the capable hands of Gari’s friend Reynaldo.
The small trim man who’d given her a quick tour of his shop was the polar opposite of Gari. While Gari radiated charm and enthusiasm, Reynaldo was soft-spoken, astute, and totally focused on business. His shop offered an array of exclusive designer merchandise, from dresses and shoes to cosmetics. There was even a glass display case totally devoted to jewelry from Cartier. Sometime during her tour, Cole had disappeared.
A knock at the dressing room door had her turning as Reynaldo stepped into the room.
“Why don’t we start with these sarong dresses? They’re all made by craftsmen here on the island.” Reynaldo wore his long, dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and in place of the island uniform of white shorts and blue flowered shirt, he wore impeccably pressed white trousers and a short-sleeved navy silk shirt. In spite of his small stature, the man managed to radiate the authority of a five-star general.
Pepper glanced at the selection of sarongs he was holding. “They’re all so beautiful. But…this is not what I usually wear.”
The look he gave her held understanding. “I hear you. I worked in New York for several years, and I’m still getting used to the more informal attire of the island. But you have an advantage. You’re only going to be here for a short while. You don’t have to make a permanent change. A visit to Escapade Island is the perfect opportunity to try something different and—shall we say a bit wild?”
Try something different and a bit wild? Pepper swallowed a nervous laugh. That’s exactly what she was doing, wasn’t it? Only it wasn’t just a sarong she was trying on—it was Cole Buchanan. And it was only temporary.
Instead of relaxing her, the thought had a band of pain tightening around her heart. Her time with Cole Buchanan was running out. Tonight might not only be their first date. It might very well be their last.
Turning her so that she faced the mirror, Reynaldo held two sarong dresses in front of her. One was splashed with the red flowers she’d seen blooming everywhere on the island. She could imagine the slave girl Elena wearing it. The other sarong was plain white.
And Cole had remembered the white linen dress she’d worn the first time they’d met.
“White is definitely your color,” Reynaldo said.
“Yes.” It was her color, and if it was going to be her first and last date with Cole she wanted to be herself tonight.
“Try it on,” Reynaldo commanded. Then, as quickly as he’d entered the room, he left.
After discarding her jeans and T-shirt, she slipped into the sarong. Then she stared at herself in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was not the Pepper Rossi she knew.
“If you’re decent, I’d like to take a peek,” Reynaldo said from outside the slatted door.
“Come in.” Decent wasn’t exactly the word she would have chosen to describe what she looked like. Pepper wasn’t even sure she was going for decent. The dress certainly wasn’t. She would have called the look provocative. She’d never worn anything like it.
“Turn,” Reynaldo commanded.
Pepper did what he asked. The thin material of the sarong hugged her breasts and waist before it draped over her thighs to just above her knees. On the side where it tied, a good half of her thigh was revealed.
No, this wasn’t something that Pepper Rossi would have worn. But then she’d never before dressed with the sole purpose of pleasing a man.
Reynaldo clasped his hands together and for the first time the serious expression faded from his face, and he smiled. “Exquisite. Simply exquisite. Your man is going to be smitten. You look like a goddess.”
Pepper frowned. “I’m not going for goddess. I’m going for me.”
Reynaldo’s eyes widened and gestured toward her image in the mirror. “But that is you. Look.”
Pepper did what he asked. She looked sophisticated and together, with a hint of the unexpected. Straightening her shoulders, she drew in a deep breath and studied her image more closely. Cole had said that if she quit hiding behind masks, she might discover qualities in herself that she would like. Could this be what she looked like when those masks were peeled away?
“You need shoes.” Reynaldo’s tone had turned brisk and businesslike again. “Contessas might be able to go barefoot, but never goddesses. What size?”
“Six,” Pepper said.
“I have just the thing.” Whirling, he sped out of the room.
Pepper studied her image in the mirror. Goddesses were always confident, she supposed. And it would be an interesting break from the slave girl fantasy. What would it be like to make love with Cole if she pretended to be a goddess?
No. Pepper slammed the brakes on her wandering thoughts. She wasn’t going there. The whole idea of this “first date” was that they were going to be themselves and get to know each other. Besides, if this was to be her last night with Cole, she wanted him to remember her.
Last night. She pressed her hand against her chest to ease the ache around her heart as she thought of that. But they’d made a deal that they’d enjoy this time together on the island. And then it was over.
A chime sounded, indicating that someone was coming into the shop. It was probably Cole, she thought. And she wasn’t ready. Through the slats in the door, she heard Reynaldo welcoming customers. “Mr. Atwell, Mr. Rambeau, so nice to see you again. How can I be of help?”
Evan and Jean Claude. Whirling, she peered through the slats.
“The diamond-and-gold cuff links,” Jean Claude said.
Reynaldo used his key on the display case, and handed them to Jean Claude. “They’re lovely, aren’t they?”
“Exquisite,” Jean Claude murmured, holding them up to the light. “Don’t you agree, Evan?”
“They’re too expensive,” Evan said.
She couldn’t see the expression on Evan’s face, but his tone was less enthusiastic than Jean Claude’s.
“How muc
h are they?” Evan asked Reynaldo.
“Ten thousand,” Reynaldo said. “The diamonds are a carat each and they’re flawless. They’re by a young Italian designer.”
“Do you like them?” Jean Claude asked Evan.
“Yes, but I think we should wait. We don’t know yet—”
Jean Claude put a hand on Evan’s arm. “You bought the ring for me yesterday, and I saw you looking at these. Indulge me and let me buy these for you as a Valentine’s Day gift.”
“Yes. Okay,” Evan agreed.
Jean Claude turned to Reynaldo. “Wrap them. And put them on the room tab.”
“But of course,” Reynaldo murmured as he hurried to another counter.
Pepper’s nerves knotted when Jean Claude drew Evan closer to the dressing room door.
“You worry too much,” Jean Claude said in a soft voice.
“We haven’t closed the deal yet,” Evan said.
“We will. Relax.”
“Here you are, Mr. Rambeau.”
Pepper watched the two men turn in unison and walk back to the counter. After taking the package, they left the shop. Her mind raced. What was the deal that they hadn’t yet closed? Was it with Butch?
The sinking feeling in her stomach had her thinking that her suspicion was dead on. Did they have the Monet and were they in the process of selling it to Butch? But they hadn’t mentioned the painting. And she still didn’t want to think that Evan was involved in stealing his own painting.
The knock on her door had her jumping. Then Reynaldo stepped into the dressing room, a box in his hands. “Wait till you see. In these, you can dance until dawn. Sit.”
She did what he asked and then watched as he pulled a red velvet bag out of the box and extracted a pair of white sandals. Then he dropped to one knee and extended his hand. “Your foot.”
She gave it to him. The heels on the sandal were impossibly high, the straps thin, and when she spotted the designer name on the bottom of one shoe, she had to swallow hard. The price tag was going to be four figures. Not even when she was a Pendleton had she bought that particular brand. “You must have some very rich guests staying here.”
“Oh, yes. Celebrities have taken a fancy to this place because it’s so out of the way. And Mr. Castellano wants us to encourage repeat business, so every other month I fly to New York and do some buying.” He leaned closer and spoke in a low voice. “I could name one movie star who’s staying here right now, but we promise complete confidentiality.”
“I understand.” While he buckled the ankle straps, she asked, “Was that Evan Atwell I just heard in the shop?”
“Yes, do you know him?”
“I used to date him in San Francisco. Does he come here often?”
“I believe this is his first trip.”
“And his friend? I’ve never run into him before.”
“Mr. Rambeau is turning out to be one of my best customers. Yesterday he bought a two carat diamond pinkie ring and today a pair of cuff links. He has a good eye. They were the most valuable pieces of men’s jewelry in the shop. There.” He stood and stepped to the side of the small room. “Rise and walk.”
She did, and the sandals couldn’t have fit better if they’d been made especially for her.
She sighed. “They’re lovely, but—” But she was going to buy them anyway. Why did she have to have such a weakness for shoes? It was the only authentically debutante gene she possessed.
“Don’t worry about the price. Your gentleman is putting them on his tab.”
Pepper’s eyes narrowed. “My gentleman?”
Reynaldo’s eyes twinkled. “Tall, dark hair, looks a little like James Bond on vacation.”
It was such an apt description of Cole that Pepper nearly smiled. But she couldn’t let him buy her such expensive shoes. She pushed through the door of the dressing room and stepped into the shop. Cole turned from where he stood at the counter.
“I’m not going to let you buy these shoes,” she said as she walked toward him. But she nearly stumbled when she drew close enough to see the look in his eyes. He was surprised. In fact he was staring at her as if he’d never seen her before.
Well…good. Maybe she’d chosen the right dress after all. The goddess look and the shoes might just be worth it.
“You like the dress?” she asked.
“What?”
She bit back a satisfied smile. She hadn’t just surprised him. She’d stunned him. But despite the thrill that moved through her, she said, “I can’t let you buy clothes for me.”
“Okay.”
“Good.” She turned to take the jeans that Reynaldo had carried out of the dressing room and handed her credit card to Reynaldo. While he hurried away to get the authorization, she drew Cole aside. “While I was in the dressing room, Evan and Jean Claude came in and bought a ten thousand dollar pair of cuff links.” Then she filled him in what else she’d overheard.
“Interesting,” Cole murmured.
“I know nothing that they said constitutes proof, but I’m beginning to think they might have the Monet. Jean Claude could have stolen it from Aunt Irene in the airport and then somehow put her on the plane to Eden. I hate to think that Evan could be involved, but this isn’t looking good.”
“No.”
“Tell me that they could be working on a different kind of deal.”
“They could be working on a different kind of deal. We won’t know until your aunt can tell us just how she got on the wrong plane.”
“No word yet?”
Cole shook his head.
“I hate this waiting.”
He smiled at her. “Welcome to the world of investigative work.”
Reynaldo returned to the counter, and when she’d signed the bill, Cole put a hand on her wrist. “If I can’t buy the dress and shoes, then you have to accept the other presents I’ve bought for you. Think of them as early Valentine’s Day gifts. Deal?”
She met his eyes, but she couldn’t read anything there. “Gifts in the plural?”
“Yeah. I like to make a good impression on a first date.”
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. For the first time she noticed the bag he was holding. “How many presents exactly?”
“Uh-uh. First, do we have a deal?”
She glanced at the bag again and saw that it carried the logo of the flower shop. So that’s where he must have disappeared to while she and Reynaldo were busy in the dressing room. Flowers were safe enough. “Deal. Now tell me how many presents?”
Instead of answering, he pulled out a small box and took out one of the island flowers. She caught the delicate exotic fragrance. “The florist attached it to a comb so it would stay in your hair.”
“Let me.” Reynaldo plucked the flower from Cole and fastened it near her ear. Then he turned her so that she could see herself in the mirror behind the counter. But it wasn’t her own image that she looked at. It was Cole’s. She wanted always to remember the way he was looking at her right now. It had something moving through her in a steady warm stream.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
“Yes.” She very much liked what she was looking at. He was wearing a khaki shirt and khaki slacks which were a perfect complement to his bronze-colored skin.
Then she saw that he was removing another box from the bag. “I was going to give you this at midnight, but since you wouldn’t let me buy you the dress and the shoes…”
This box was not from the florist shop. It was small and the name of the jewelry designer was still visible beneath the blue bow. Cartier. Her eyes flew to his.
“We have a deal,” he said. “I’m going to hold you to it.”
Yes, they did have a deal. But she wasn’t thinking about her agreement to accept the presents. She wasn’t thinking much at all, not with the flood of emotions pouring through her. Her fingers shook as she pulled away the ribbon and opened the box. Then she had to blink at the brightness of the stones shining up at her. The spray of diamonds i
n each earring reminded her of fireworks, hot and bright on the Fourth of July. Tears pricked behind her eyes. Hesitantly, she touched one of the diamonds with her finger to test if the heat were real. But the stones were cool. She knew she had to say something, but she wasn’t sure she could speak past the tightness in her throat.
With one finger, he lifted her chin so that she had to meet his eyes. Then he used the same finger to trace the path of a tear as it ran down her cheek. “You don’t like them?”
“I love them.” She set the box on the counter, then took them out and fastened them in her ears with shaking hands. She turned to look at him. The only other thing she could think of to say to him was “You shouldn’t have,” and it sounded so trite.
“Beautiful,” he said.
“Jewelry fit for a goddess,” Reynaldo said as he gathered up the empty boxes.
“I was talking about the woman,” Cole said as he lifted her hand and kissed her fingers.
“That too,” Reynaldo agreed.
Taking a deep breath, Pepper managed a smile. If she had just one more night with this man, she was going to make the most of it. “This is turning out to be a very expensive first date for you.”
He smiled as he tapped the shoe box on the counter. “You’re not getting off cheaply yourself.”
She linked her fingers with his. “What do you say we make sure we get our money’s worth?”
THE MOMENT HIS CELL phone rang, Butch lurched across his desk to get it. When he heard Angelo’s voice on the other end of the line, he said, “Tell me you’ve got good news.”
“Good news and bad news.”
Butch frowned. “Explain.”
“I tracked her to a fishing cabin on the far side of the island. She rented a boat there and she’s gone.”
Butch felt his heart sink. “What do you mean she’s gone?”
“The woman who owns the cabin says she was hell bent on getting to Escapade Island tonight. They left about an hour before I got here.”
Frowning, Butch glanced at his watch. It was 9:30. The sky was darkening now, so that would give her another half hour of daylight. The trip between the islands usually didn’t take longer than that. “Hold on, Angelo.” Butch turned to H who was watching the lobby through the one-way glass. “They borrowed a boat and they’re on their way here.” Then he frowned and spoke one word into his cell phone. “They?”
