Their Secret Paradise

Table of Contents Their Secret Paradise (Immortal Paradise, #100) Their Secret Paradise One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve About the Author

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Their Secret Paradise ...an Immortal Paradise series spinoff romance J. Rose Allister On the island where the gods Love and Lust reside, no one will leave untouched... Parapsychology grad Gina Munson finds her uncle's island resort fascinating,-but romantically dangerous. The supernatural passion of the island caused her a harsh lesson before, and now her only interest is to study the paranormal without falling victim to the resort’s special “charms.” Contractor David Gilroy wouldn’t believe in the island’s alleged power even if he knew about it. He’s not interested in anything other than his building job...until he runs across Gina sunbathing topless. When summer in paradise blossoms into a desire she may never recover from, Gina knows she can’t trust what they’re feeling. How can David convince her that his passion is real? What if it isn’t?

THEIR SECRET PARADISE Copyright © 2017 by J. Rose Allister. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in critical articles or reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organiza- tions, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. For information contact : J. Rose Allister http://jroseallister.com Copyright © 2017 by J. Rose Allister Second E-book Publication: June 2012 First E-book Publication: November 2009, Eternal Press Cover design by J. Rose Allister All cover art and logo copyright © 2017 by J. Rose Allister Word Count: 28,575 Genre: Urban Fantasy/Romance

One DAVID GILROY’S CAMERA LENS caught his image in the shimmering glass of the hotel. Great, he thought. I look like a damn tourist. He paused to consider the truth of it as he shook his head, freeing his vision from sun-bleached hair. Despite the dense tropical air, he’d have preferred jeans to the shorts he wore, flannel to the cotton tank, and work boots to the Nikes. Still, it was the camera in his hand that gave his tourist garb that over-the-top touch. Even he could believe the guy in that reflection was one of the mega-walleted travelers who were here to drop wads of cash in a pointless, hopelessly overpriced vacation. With a snort he turned away, his eyes sliding over the lush flora and wasted space he was here to transform. No, David Gilroy did not waste life on futile vacations. He helped create them for others. At least, that’s what he would be doing on this job, which would net him as much as some of these goons were spending to take in the four S’s— Sleep, Sun, Satiety, and Sex. In various orders and combinations. He wandered off a cement path that went nowhere, stopping to test the ground by flexing his knees. No doubt the area had been well graded during original construction, but this side of the hotel featured a jungle-like tangle of shrubs that looked wild and long established. After clearing the tropics of, well, tropics to make room for his build, construction would be easier if there was a firm foundation beneath. “A foolish man builds his house upon the sand,” he said to no one in particular as he bent close to the damp earth, digging into the visible layer of sand. He came up with a rich crumble of dirt. That was something, at least. As he straightened, brushing dirt from his fingers, his attention landed on the fertile plant life ahead. It was a shame to have to clear nature’s bounty to make room for man’s progress—if indeed one considered it that—but the wealthy needed another corner of the Amante del Mar resort upon which to frolic and squander their money. The planned multipurpose quad would be no amphitheater, but a fair chunk of flora would have to be sacrificed. As little as possible, per his preference and the owner’s wishes. He raised the Nikon digital and snapped some shots of the doomed plant life, stopping when he noticed something unusual. He squinted against the bright morning sun to check his logic. Sure enough, there was a sort of clearing through the dense brush. David pushed into the press of exotic flora, hoping his mosquito repellent was enough to keep hungry tropical critters at bay. Fronds snapped back in place behind him, and just as he had a mental flashback of childhood safari games, he popped out into a generous, cylindrical nook. With interest but no conscious thought, the camera came up

again. His finger depressed the shutter automatically for a rapid-fire round of photos as he twisted his body, shooting every angle of the space. Maybe ten photos had already snapped off when he peered over the top of the Nikon to see the occupied lounge chair straight ahead. Reclining there was the most luscious, mouth-watering pair of... “Hey!” He jumped as a heavenly mirage swung around on the lounger. The woman’s feet swooped into delicate sandals in one smooth motion as she rose. “What the hell are you doing?” David blinked in confusion, caught off guard by the beauty outshining the tropical nest encircling them. Her state of dress, or rather, undress, froze a reply on his tongue. Nestled atop bronzed thighs was a small triangle of fabric tied at her hips with strings so narrow a mouse wouldn’t bother chewing them. That completed her attire, unless one counted the sandals and tanned, slender arms she’d crossed over the full breasts he’d seen in full glory just seconds before. “I said,” she went on with an added punch of venom, “what the hell do you think you are doing?” Fragments of words raced through his mind, and he groped at them in desperation to force together a sentence. He’d never been at such a loss for words, but a naked goddess in a secret island hideaway was the last thing he’d expected. “I’m sorry,” he managed. “I didn’t realize this space was occupied.” Eyes that mirrored the lush green of the surrounding leaves flashed. “And once you saw otherwise, you decided to take home a few naked picture souvenirs?” He followed her accusing glance to the camera in his hand, which he shoved behind his back with a frown. “Of course not.” “Don’t bother hiding it. I saw you taking photos of me.” “I wasn’t taking photos of you!” “What’s the matter? Can’t a handsome guy like you get a real date?” The heat rising in his neck flooded his face and loosened his tongue. “Look, lady, I don’t snap photos of naked chicks as a hobby. I’m here on business.” “Oh, so you sell them on the Internet, then?” She looked around behind her, and both their eyes landed on a tiny jumble of white strings and cloth that no doubt comprised the top half of her bathing suit. “I feel so much better knowing my photo is destined for Desperate Losers dot com.” Ridiculous as she was, he had to quirk a smile at her candor. “I’m a contractor, not a porn site owner. I was hired to build an addition to the resort.” He cocked his head, sliding both hands—including the camera—into his shorts pockets. “I was just checking out the scenery.” “So I noticed.” “I have permission to be out here. What about you?” “Me?” The cocky glare flickered with something akin to guilt.

“Yes, you. I don’t recall there being public sunbathing on this side of the hotel.” Her eyes slid back to the swimsuit, as though wondering whether she could will it onto her body without having to uncross her arms. “I wasn’t looking for public sunbathing, for obvious reasons. And I’m certainly not interested in hosting a paparazzi convention. Now please leave.” His smile widened as he took in little details about her. Sun glinted off a thick rumple of strawberry blonde hair. Every limb and angle on her lithe form was sleek, tanned, delectably curved, and beyond edible. Against his better judgment, he took a long stride toward her. Her eyes goggled and she shrank back. The lounger pressed against her calves halted her retreat. “Stop or I'll scream.” Yet her voice had lowered to a contradictory whisper as he drew closer, not stopping until he was a foot or so away. Her half-panicked, half-fascinated stare held his own as he leaned toward her. She jerked and sucked in a loud breath as he reached past her to snap up the bikini top. He held the garment out to her, which she now stared at as though it would bite. He snorted. “I think proper introductions would be easier on you if you were actually clothed.” “I don’t need introductions. I need privacy.” She raised her chin in defiance at the suit he waggled under her chin. “Which I’ll have when you either do the smart thing and leave, or run for your life when I scream. Your choice.” With an exaggerated sigh, he rolled his eyes. Before she could react, he grasped the suit by the top strings and tugged it down over her head. She gave a little squeal of shock and flinched automatically. Her arms forgot their sworn duty to guard heaven’s hills for a brief but tantalizing flash. He took her upper arms in a none-too-gentle grip and twisted her away from him. “What are you doing?” she asked, clearly exasperated. He reached around her front to fumble for the remaining ties, trying hard to ignore her gasp and the feel of his body igniting when he accidentally brushed tender, round flesh. The hard-on stirring in his shorts wouldn’t inspire her to abandon the “I’ll scream” idea. “Cut it out!” she exclaimed, wriggling as he tried to tie the back of her suit. With one strong shove from her ass, she pushed him away from her. “I am capable of dressing myself, thanks.” His cock pulsed with appreciation at the brief contact, and the view from his new vantage point made him wonder whether she even grasped what dressing herself entailed. She seemed oblivious that her choice of swimwear held the power to level the male population. The bikini was no thong, but it was scant enough to give the illusion she’d actually put the bottom on backwards. She was round in all the right spots, toned and tan, and had just bucked that taut ass right against his crotch. God help him, a

devilish part of him wanted to strip the bikini right back off and shove her down on the lounger. With the back of his forearm, he wiped a fresh sheen of sweat from his forehead. In a few quick motions, she adjusted and tied the shiny white fabric herself, then shook her hair to land in an appealing tumble between her shoulder blades. Not that he could keep his eyes off that perfect ass for long. When at last she turned to face him, she caught his look which no doubt held hungry male appreciation, and her tentative expression darkened. “Is this better?” While her body was seduction itself and her delicate face sculpted like an exotic goddess, her tone was pure acid. He shook his head. “That depends on the definition.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means I’m not sure how you figure that Barbie-sized bikini makes much difference.” She growled in disgust. “Sorry if I don’t sunbathe dressed as a school marm, but that rather defeats the purpose.” He laughed. “Oh, I'm not complaining. I’m just intrigued by the logic.” “I’ll bet. So, let’s talk about that camera.” “I’m David Gilroy.” He swept forward again, his hand thrusting out to grab her own. Instead of pumping up and down, he held it with near reverence and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Resort contractor.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “Gina Munson. Guest.” “Pleased to meet you.” His cock twitched a greeting of its own that he hoped she wouldn’t notice. An emerald sparkle lit her wary eyes, and a small upturn in her full lips unleashed a dimple that caught his heartbeat in his throat. “So, Mr. Gilroy, what is it you’re building?” Besides a steel-girder erection? “An outdoor meeting area.” She wrinkled her nose. “A meeting area? That doesn't sound very vacation-like.” He shrugged. “More of a multipurpose space than a business area. You know, for dances, music, special classes, resort events.” “Oh.” She gazed around their secret nook with wistful regret. “I suppose you’ll gut all this so they can have another dance floor.” Her tone shot guilt through his chest. “Actually, my goal is to impact as little of the natural greenery as possible. It’s what gives an island resort it’s magical feel, after all.” She gave a tiny snort. “One of the things, anyway.” His abdomen tightened at the reference, though he wasn’t quite sure what she meant by it. “I’d hate to have you sunbathing topless on the middle of a cement slab.” Okay, maybe “hate: was too strong a word. “Pay money” was probably closer to the truth. “I promise to do my best to leave your magic intact.”

Her expression sharpened but flickered with a heat unrelated to the sun rising overhead. She settled herself down on the lounger, his heart pausing mid-beat as she reached behind her to pull at the string behind her neck. She held his gaze and lay back with a deliberate, languid expression, allowing the strings—and only the strings—to fall at her sides. The rest remained as covered as anemic strips of fabric could possibly hope to hide her voluptuous curves. So, he’d been wrong about her being oblivious. She was fully and dangerously aware of the effect she had on the male population. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. He’d lost the trail of conversation somewhere between her breasts. “Worry about what?” “Where I sunbathe. I doubt I’ll be hanging around here much. I think you’ve cured me of au natural sun worship for a while.” The grunt that escaped him fell short of the laugh he’d intended. “That’s tragic news.” David’s mouth turned to desert when she leaned back and closed her eyes, looking like an angel praying to the sun god for blessing on a womanly figure that needed none. In the relationship between a sun god and this naked goddess, he wondered who worshiped whom. Her eyes were still shut as she added, “If you’ll excuse me?” He blinked to regain some form of sanity. “Right. I’ll just go do what I came here to do.” And later, masturbate like crazy. Shit. Reluctant feet had made it halfway back to the brush when her liquid voice found him again. “Oh, and Mr. Gilroy?” He turned to find her eyes still shut and her body looking far too sinful. “Yeah?” “The camera?” Another wave of guilt lapped at his conscience, sliding his hand into the pocket harboring the evil device. “What about it?” She rose on one elbow, shifting her cleavage enough to nearly dislodge her nipples from the bits of satiny white fabric. “I trust you’ll destroy the roll of film in it?” He started to correct her, but a devilish thought slapped him out of it. “Don’t worry. Your photos will never see the Internet.” He extracted the camera and held it up. “Consider the film in this baby as good as gone.” With a satisfied nod, she lay back down. He turned to leave before allowing a wide grin to break out on his face. That film was as good as destroyed. Considering digital cameras didn’t use any.

Two GINA RUBBED HER LONG LEGS dry with a spongy white towel and straightened to survey the full-length mirror. Through curling puffs of steam circling the bathroom, she was content to note the day’s sun had kissed her well. Only half of her ass cheeks and a small triangle over her pubic bone remained untouched and china white. Then again, there were noticeable tan lines along her breasts now, thanks to a certain contractor. A grimace gave way to a tiny smile. She’d ducked into her sacred space numerous times during visits to the Amante del Mar to take the sun in privacy. She’d never worried about being discovered topless, and no one had ever come close until today. Thank the gods she didn’t tan completely naked. She tossed her towel on the marble counter and shook her damp head. She hadn’t even remembered to take her towel out there, which would have come in handy when David Gilroy had stumbled into her private world. He hadn’t thought she was decent enough even after she’d put her suit on. Or rather, after he’d put it on for her. A tingle flirted with her stomach at the thought of his hands on her skin. The undisguised hunger in his dark-brown, bedroom eyes after she’d gotten her top back on had made her feel even more exposed than when she’d been half-naked. Trying to keep her nipples out of range of his diamond-hard stare hadn’t been easy. A ripple of heat snaked through her, but a flash of annoyance drowned it out. What was he, an Amish church elder? There was nothing wrong with her swimsuit. She turned to glance at the pieces flung over the shower door while she wrapped a towel around herself. Compared to some women she’d seen in smut bikinis that had no doubt begun life as dental floss, she was practically overdressed. She’d often wondered why the resort didn’t make the beach clothing optional, since what was frequently worn was hardly G-rated. Or even R. Besides, what business was it of David’s what she wore? Contractors should be worrying about building codes, not dress codes. A flush prickled her still-damp face. The steamy heat in the bathroom failed to dissipate with the door shut. Her swimsuit wouldn’t dry any century soon like this. Gina grabbed the pieces, then headed out the door and padded across her generous but modest room. She stepped out onto her deck, breathing in the thick and exotic aromas that brought many happy memories flooding back. Memories that would end this year. With a sigh at the thought, she draped her “Barbie doll” suit over the back of a deck chair and wandered to the railing. She could have had any room she wanted, maybe even on the penthouse level. This year, she’d almost considered asking for it. One last

blowout, a trip to really remember. But she couldn’t bring herself to take advantage of her benefactor. Instead, she’d settled for her usual standard room on the second floor, though she allowed herself the luxury of an ocean view as opposed to the garden view economy rooms across the hall. “Economy” room. There was a laugh. This was no ordinary Bahamas getaway. The Amante del Mar resort sat on a private island, a beckoning diamond on the shimmering Atlantic. An island set in a unique location with equally unique secrets, owned by a man who would give Gina anything, if only she’d ask. She tightened the towel around herself, staring out at the familiar ocean as though seeing it for the first time. She watched, entranced, as the ocean sighed back onto itself and charged back up the beach again. Sprays of foam shot skyward as the glittering sea hurled against a jetty of rock that reached out like the Amante’s right hand. At this hour of advancing afternoon, sun played with sea by skipping sparkling gemstones across its windblown surface, each glinting and winking at Gina as if flirting with her. The sight never failed to pick up the corners of her mouth, as it did now. Every segment of each day reformed the ocean to spotlight a different facet, and this time of day was Gina’s favorite. And nighttime, too, when the moon approached full and cast an amazing mirror of glowing stars onto the glassine, liquid mystery of dark ocean. The Amante del Mar was a magical place in many respects, and the changing seascape offered a breathtaking example of that. Her gaze shifted to the beach, where an assortment of couples and coupled singles —in her time here, she’d learned to spot the difference—writhed and played and entangled much like the tumbling sea. Love, or factors often mistaken for it, lay as heavy in the air as the tropical salt spray, and people fell under the Amante’s spell to a predictable fault. Trysts, dalliances, even full-blown sexual dramas were virtual requisite for any who landed on these shores. Any but her, of course. Not anymore. A breeze picked up strands of slowly drying hair like a consoling caress, but Gina was in no need of condolence. She didn’t feel sorry for herself. She wasn’t some wallflower on the sidelines of a school dance, watching other girls get picked while she sat on the bench. Her solitary adventures here were by her own choice, a decision that grew firmer with each Bahamas summer holiday. Not that she didn’t get offers. She enjoyed an occasional turn on the dance floor, a shared meal with quiet conversation, even indulged a rare stolen kiss. But she lived without the desperate, lustful turmoil that turned other people’s lives upside down at the Amante. The one time she’d allowed the island’s special magic spin her until she grew dizzy, she had fallen. No one had been there to catch her. Not even Alex, though he had dutifully picked up the pieces afterward. She wandered back inside, away from the waning island afternoon. Yes, she’d learned a harsh lesson about tossing away logic for lust, and the man who taught her that lesson had lost his cabana boy job for it. No man in the employ of Alex Rose—owner

of the Amante del Mar—would be permitted to dally with Gina’s favors, toss her aside, and stick around afterward to sell souvenir T-shirts. Alex Rose. Now there was a man a girl could count on. One who would never toy with a woman’s emotions while toying with enough other women to require a number dispenser for faster service. Would Alex ever talk a young lady out of her virginity and pretend not to remember her later? Gina hardly thought so. God, she’d been so stupid. Alex would never date anyone as gullible as her. Not that he dated at all, so far as she could tell. She slipped into panties and her favorite island print dress. The red halter tied at the neck and shirred snugly across her breasts while the rest fell in soft drapes to the floor. She glanced at her reflection in the still-damp bathroom. Her shoulder-length waves hadn’t dried thanks to the humidity, but her skin was dewy and tinged with a nice, golden bronze. Her eyes were bright, her lips soft pink. Not horrible. Maybe a touch of mascara, then down for an early dinner. It wasn’t like she was here to impress anyone. Besides, her stomach was rolling in hunger waves the ocean itself would find formidable. The sooner she appeased the stomach gods with an offering of food, the better.

Three DAVID SHOOK HIS HEAD IN DISBELIEF over the prices at the island’s so-called “cheap” dining solution. No wonder the place could afford to pay him a small fortune to do little more than lay a cement slab with an overhang. A few days’ worth of receipts from this one outdoor restaurant alone would cover the bill with change due. And considering only one meal per day had been included in his deal, they could easily earn back every dollar from him on food costs alone. Brilliant scam. He grunted. As he had lacked the foresight to pack peanut butter and jelly for the duration, perhaps he should be thinking less in terms of restaurant dining and more about grabbing whatever from the sundries shop in the lobby. Ten dollars for canned, processed meat spread might be a travesty, but it would preserve a great deal more of the income that represented his sole reason for taking the job. Bloated prices aside, he had to admit the place didn’t skimp on food. At the Amante Pier, one could choose the all-you-can eat buffet as he’d done, and the likes of which made the spread at Caesar’s Palace in Vegas look like a hobo’s leftovers. There was also an a’la carte menu, though the prices on the exotic-sounding items should be illegal. He took in shadowed palm trees and the eager chat of other diners as he relaxed against his comfortably padded chair. After a few minutes of ambiance, he turned his focus back to his own table. Maybe he should have skipped the menu. He could eat the centerpiece and be good to go. Almost all the décor here was edible. All manner of fruits and vegetables, cheese cubes and bread sticks had been crafted into art sculptures worthy of the Smithsonian. Or a photograph, at least. He grabbed the camera off the table and snapped a couple shots of his centerpiece, a cucumber fashioned into a whale with carrot curls creating the spout and wavy lettuce forming the ocean beneath. Smaller fish and starfish and other sea creatures that had been created from cheese, melon, and other unidentifiable but delicious-looking produce were scattered around the base. He wondered whether people actually ate these. Did the restaurant replenish them between every customer? Was it considered poor taste to request a doggy bag for one’s whale? He could snack off his table trimmings for the next few days. Then his gaze lifted to a sight more compelling than vegetable décor or restaurant prices, and he forgot all about his whale. She floated straight toward him as if on a cloud, an angelic herald come to bring joy to the world and good will to men—if they

were damn lucky. Her emerald eyes met his with a flicker of recognition, and sultry lips curved upward in a smile that seized him by the gut. The red dress Gina wore swirled around her ankles as she walked, and the swath of fabric did little to dim his memory of the heart-pounding curves beneath. An obliging amount of rounded breast jiggled and teased from the deeply slashed halter. The ties behind her neck reminded him of the strings she’d tugged free when they’d been alone together in a cozy island hideaway. For a brief moment, he flirted with a fantasy of yanking the ties to set free the rosy nipples whose brief, yet memorable flash would no doubt stay with him for many self-inflicted hand jobs to come. “Still busy with that camera, I see.” Her tone held a mixture of tease and warning as she drifted to a stop in front of him. He flashed her a guilty grin. “Can’t blame a guy for wanting to remember exotic sights.” She flushed pink and opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it. After a moment of awkward silence she said, “Well, then, have a nice night.” As she made a scant motion to turn away, he jumped up and gestured to the seat across from him. “Join me.” Her eyes flicked nervously to the table. Maybe she didn’t like cucumber whales. “Oh, I shouldn’t.” “Come on. I swear I won’t photograph you with milk coming out of your nose or anything.” He crossed his heart for good measure. Her laugh shot through him and curled his toes. “Fair enough.” Gina wasn’t halfway to the chair before he had launched himself behind it, pulling it out in a grand gesture that elongated the smile on her luscious lips. With thanks she accepted, and David was impressed to note her bottom had no sooner hit the seat than his waiter returned. “Miss Munson,” the waiter said. His tone of respect was a few chords more sincere than he’d used for David’s arrival. “Skipping your usual table tonight, I see?” She offered a genuine smile. “Seems so, Peter.” “Will you be wanting a menu, or shall I have Chef prepare your usual?” Her eyes flickered across to where David’s met hers with wide interest. “Guess I’ll throw tradition out the window tonight.” A menu appeared out of nowhere. Where the waiter had been hiding it, David didn’t want to ponder. Peter bowed and went on to flatter other diners, and David waited in silence as she surveyed the menu. His inquisitive stare must have pierced straight through the menu, because after several moments, she peered over the top of it at him with a raised brow. “What?” “You seem to be quite a celebrity around here.” She waved off the comment with a slender—and ringless, as he’d made sure to note that morning—hand. “Hardly. I’m just a frequent flyer.”

She didn’t act like Mondo Money, but anyone who could afford to visit here often had to be made of the stuff. Tread easy, David old boy, he thought. Wise advice. A rich woman on an expensive vacation could be more dangerous than a snake pit on a bed of thorns. A growl from his stomach prompted him to throw a longing glance at his plate. His food was cold, but it would be rude to eat in front of her. Besides, he could get all new food from the buffet once her dinner arrived. That thought quelled his stomach a little. She seemed to read his mind. “Go ahead and eat. The service here is so good that they’ll have my side salad out practically before I order it.” What was this? A woman who placed a man’s need for sustenance before her own need to be the center of the universe? Be still his heart, not to mention cock. No, she definitely didn’t read as a typical Miss Moneybags. Her finger wasn’t halfway in the air before good old Pete materialized at her side. True to her word, by the time David returned with a platter of hot food from the buffet, she was already navigating croutons and cherry tomatoes. “Interesting blend,” she said, nodding to the inexcusable mounds of culinary delights on his dish. He shrugged, trying not to feel self conscious. He normally tried to halfway care about his nutrition, but this was vacation. Okay, it wasn’t a vacation for him, but it was as close to one as he had time to bother with. Besides, if he stuffed himself enough now, he might be able to skip one or two wallet-reaming meals later. “Yeah well, I’d like to say my eyes are bigger than my mouth, but I think both are equal to the task here. The food is amazing.” He had barely scratched the surface of his plate when the largest roast chicken breast he’d ever seen was deposited in front of Gina. The juicy monster would have sent a prize turkey pouting to a corner in shame. Even better was the way she ate it. Few things at that moment could have dragged David’s attention away from his own unbelievable meal, but Gina managed readily when a bite of tender white meat slid between her sultry lips. All thought of food was forgotten while he lost himself in the sensual sight of her mouth working on the obviously heavenly taste. Her visual satisfaction appealed to his maleness on several levels, and he shifted against the tightening in his crotch. How the hell had a simple dinner turned into an erotic peep show? A naked woman squirting whipped cream on her breasts and sticking a cherry where it counted wouldn’t have been as sexy as the sight of the beauty in front of him pleasuring herself in the simple act of eating. A warning sounded at the back of his mind. He was here to do a job, not to do the resort patrons. Staying focused on business would be impossible if he couldn’t even eat dinner without a stiff erection. Besides, didn’t he need that blood flow higher up for digestion? Still, he couldn’t take his eyes off the beautiful island flower before him.

That’s when the warning voice whispered to him again. You know this means big trouble, right? Yep. Time to go. Yep. He made no such move, however. He was spot welded to his seat while she ate. On occasion, Gina smiled or engaged in light conversation. She asked when construction would begin, how he liked the island, where was he from. The smart thing would have been to excuse himself on some plausible, yet nonexistent errand. Instead, David pushed food around on his plate and managed to scoop forkfuls into his mouth on occasion while she chatted on. Her nonchalance made it clear she was once again oblivious to the blood-churning effect she had on him. That was a relief. It also seemed clear he had no similar effect on her. That was a good thing, considering. But he felt a twinge of disappointment nonetheless. Waning daylight lengthened nearby shadows until they cast a muddying gray over the seaside diners. The Amante Pier Restaurant sat on a pier largely over the tide line, but with the tide stroking the shore much farther out at that moment, all that rested beneath them was sand and stones. The abandonment of sun and sea in no way dulled the beauty of approaching evening, however. David’s personal view at the table saw to that. “So,” he said, clearing his throat to dislodge the words, “how long are you staying on the island?” She opened her mouth to answer, but a muffled ring cut her off. Frowning, David dug around in a pocket and came up with his cell phone. Her brow lifted. “You get cellular service out here?” “Not automatically. I had to buy a special SIM card to earn the privilege of getting gouged for fifty cents per minute.” He winced inwardly for sounding like such a tightwad. He couldn’t help it if finances were a bit complicated at the moment. As such, his call would be short, if not ignored. One glance at the caller display showed neither would be likely, and he grunted in annoyance as he picked up. “Hey, Joe. I’m outside right now. Let me call you back in fifteen.” He flipped the phone shut, realizing he now had the plausible excuse he needed to cut the meal short. Too bad he had no wish to use it. With an apologetic smile, he told her. “Sorry. That’s my lead guy, still stateside. We’ve got some things to go over before the crew gets here.” “I understand.” He fished for his wallet, hoping she wouldn’t try to offer to pick up his tab and swearing mentally when she raised a finger at their waiter. As ever, Peter was at her service almost before she requested it.

“Would you bill these meals to our rooms?” she asked. “We’re in a hurry.” The waiter gave an obliging nod while David debated amending the request so that both meals went on his tab. The total would be ludicrous, but it wasn’t like he was destitute. Still, would that kind of offer come off as polite, or as a date? Big trouble, remember? Screw that. “Peter,” he said, stopping the young man, “please put the lady’s meal on my bill.” The waiter’s gaze slid to Gina, as if awaiting her permission. Irritation twisted in David’s stomach. With a slight shake of her head, he saw Peter give a smile of smug vindication and walked off. Same to you, pal. David hoped his glower conveyed the fact that Pete’s treachery had just knocked some of the green off his tip. “Thank you for the generous offer,” she said. The rejection in her tone was subtle but audible. “But it isn’t necessary.” He should be happy she saved him the money and big trouble. Still, he couldn’t shake an irritating sense of disappointment. She must have caught his look, because she added, “I’m sorry. I’ve offended you.” His head shook vehemently. “Not at all.” She started to rise, and he was behind her again in an instant. This time, however, it was to hold her chair in place. “No, please,” he said. “Don’t feel you have to get chased out of a glorious tropical evening on my account. Stay.” Her laugh warmed his insides. “That eager to be rid of me? It’s okay. I’m finished.” “Ah.” He pulled back her chair. “If you’re sure.” The short walk back to the hotel was warm and the scenery was pleasant. The wind had picked up enough to ruffle both their hair to distracting proportions, so when the double doors slid open, David was glad to duck inside. The lobby was quite a spectacle, designed to set the stage for guests to feel whisked off to a whole new dimension of tropical romance. There was big wow factor, where marble and brass somehow blended seamlessly with island vines and lush greenery. The spectacular focal point was the backdrop of a tiered waterfall, set back far enough from the main desk to prevent the roaring water from interfering with customer interaction. The effect was dramatic and jaw dropping, even from David’s professional, been-there-seen-that viewpoint. Past the rushing waterfall was a bank of elevators leading up to the guest floors. David and Gina caught an empty one, and he was surprised when she pressed the button for the second floor. Of course she would assume a hired hand would be hidden away on the cheap floor. He just wasn’t certain whether that thought bothered him. Also, she hadn’t pushed the button for her own floor, and that that did bother him. He knew that the higher up one stayed in the hotel, the more expensive—and larger—the

accommodations were. Maybe she didn’t want to embarrass him by keying in the floor for the Presidential Suite. Or maybe she didn’t want him knowing where to find her. The awkward silence inherent in elevators was magnified tenfold by her clean scent, not to mention proximity. He could feel the warmth radiating from her lush body, and the cock he’d managed to wrestle into submission during the trek back stirred with renewed interest. The elevator doors slid open just in time to tame some rather wild thoughts of pressing the stop button. Gina surprised him again by stepping off the elevator onto the carpet of sea-foam green. A smile slid up one side of his face. So, his second assumption had been correct. She didn’t want him to know where she was staying. Instead, she would walk him to his room before he could offer to do so for her and then try to worm his way into her room. Clever girl. Fine. He could play. His surprise grew to outright puzzlement, however, when she didn’t even bother to ask which room was his. She marched past vase-bearing tables and gilded wall mirrors like she knew exactly where she was going. Then she proved it by stopping threequarters of the way down the hall and swiveling to face him—right in front of his room. David raised a brow. How the hell had she known? “Here we are.” Gina pulled a key card out of a small shoulder bag and held it out to him. He cocked his head in curiosity. “I already have one of those.” Her eyes widened. “Not to my room, you don’t.” “Your room?” “Of course.” She turned to the room directly across from his. A vise gripped his chest, constricting it bit by bit until he almost forgot how to breathe. His naked island goddess showered and slept just across the hall? So much for his attempt to tame the elevator hard-on. It was back with a vengeance. “That’s your room?” She gave him a measuring glance. “You sound surprised.” Damn right. Though the reasons he could give her would sound either snobbish or lecherous. “I am, considering I’m right across the hall.” Her eyes flicked to his door and widened. “Oh? What a coincidence.” Then she let out a whoop of laughter that caught him off guard. “So I thought you were walking me to my room, and you thought I was walking you to yours?” He offered a guilty shrug. “I’ll take it as a compliment you think me such an unconventional, modern girl.” He folded his arms across his chest, and his stomach began an odd tango as her gaze twinkled at him. “Well, you do sunbathe topless at crowded resorts.” She snorted. “It wasn’t crowded where I sunbathe until you came along.”

He couldn’t resist. “Sorry if I caused you any unsightly tan lines.” Not that he could spot any on the generous amount of flesh her plunging halter displayed. She sighed. “Well, I guess I should let you get to your business call.” Christ, he’d forgotten all about Joe. “Allow me.” He reached for the key card, and as their fingers brushed, he lingered more than was proper to revel in the warm tingle. He slid the card into her lock, then pushed open the door to a room laid out in reverse to his own. “Thank you for the dinner company,” she said. “Good night.” Before she could sashay past, a caress of her clean, fruit blossom scent shot straight through to his groin. He reacted with barely a thought. He took hold of a silken upper arm, hearing her sharp intake of breath as his lips closed over hers. His insides turned to molten heat at the velvety feel of her mouth, and his cock had flared to full fury before he was even completely aware of what he’d done. Her moan in response was part desire, part objection, but she allowed the connection for a long moment before putting a hand on his chest and gently pushing back. “What was that?” Her tone was breathless and threatened to drive him to claim her lips again. He blinked. That was a damn good question. “I’m not sure. I’m sorry.” He offered a guilty smile. “Forgive me.” She smoothed her dress as she moved past him. “It’s okay.” He backed up a couple of paces, shoving his hands in his pockets before they could aid and abet any further stupidity. “I’ll just go take care of that phone call.” “My meal tonight was on the hotel,” she blurted out. She stood in her doorway, tucking a silken strand behind her ear. “But thanks again for offering.” He smiled at the peace offering, wishing he could steal another hot kiss. Maybe if he hadn’t jumped the gun. Damn. Something must have sizzled in his gaze when it fell back to her lips, because when he met her eyes again, her pupils were wide and dark. He willed his feet to keep moving to his own door. “Good night.” He opened his door, and every moment she didn’t close hers made it harder for him to stop thinking about how she would feel naked in his arms. “By the way,” she said, “you asked earlier how long I was staying.” David turned, bracing himself for an answer he was prepared to hate. With his luck, she would be on the first plane out. “Yeah?” “You’re stuck with me all summer. See ya.” Her door shut, a good thing considering the ridiculous jack-o-lantern grin he felt erupt without warning. Hopefully she hadn’t noticed the bulge in his groin. His erection threatened to rob what little brain function remained, something he’d have to take care of after his phone call. He limped inside and shut his door. Maybe before the phone call would be better.

So, he was “stuck all summer” with an erotic, blonde bathing beauty right across from his room. Shit. All work and no play be damned. He hadn’t a chance in hell of holding to that motto now. •

Four THE DREAM WAS BIZARRE AND DISTURBING, yet real enough for Gina to feel the prickle of perspiration beading along her skin as she reclined topless on her lounge chair. David had again discovered her sunbathing nook, but this time, he wasn’t snapping a camera shutter. Nor did she leap up and cover herself. She smiled and stretched like a languid cat, arms reclining over her head while her nipples tightened under the delicious hunger of his gaze. He was shirtless and magnificent, his muscles gleaming and oiled. A low-slung tool belt rode his hips. Lucky belt. With a wicked gleam, he pulled a cloth measuring tape from his tool belt and used its length to bind her wrists. She obediently held the end in place as he reached down toward himself. Rather than freeing a noticeable erection from his jeans, he pulled a silky ostrich plume from his belt and ran it across her breasts. She arched back at the heavenly caress, closing her eyes tight to revel in the decadent sensation. David’s body heat surrounded her like a possessive brand as he leaned in close. The feel of his breath in her ear sent goose bumps along her arms. “You don’t really think you can fight me off forever, do you?” The feather traced a maddening path along her abdomen, sending a wave of need through the dampness between her thighs. Fight? Her brow wrinkled over still-closed eyes. Why on earth would she resist this god’s erotic charms? Then she remembered why. What they felt wasn’t real. It was just paranormally manufactured arousal, a mystical libido boost produced by unknown forces on the island. She couldn’t let it control her. Not again. “I’ll keep fighting,” she said. “For as long as it takes.” “Will you?” the deep voice went on. The rich timbre taunted her. “Eventually, I will win. Do you want to know why?” The plume stroked her quivering thighs and the suddenly naked patch of curls above them. Her voice was little more than a shudder of breath. “Why?” “Because the power at work here is not only bigger than you. It is you.” With that, he thrust himself deep between the thighs she had spread wide for him without a thought. His cock was nothing less than a molten spear of pure sexual need. That lance of heat unleashed an animal hunger in her that exploded from the core of her womb to drench every molecule in her body. But when the jolt shot her dream eyes wide, David was gone. The man fucking her was a sublime being with hair as dark as a starless night and eyes a blazing obsidian that burned from within. His gaze took her as sexually as his heated penetration did, and she gasped in shock.

“What are you?” she asked in panic. “Where’s David?” His laugh rippled the air in waves around them, and he thrust himself forward to take possession of her again. “I am the power of your own need.” He leaned close to her ear, and the rest came out in a growled whisper that mesmerized. “I am Lust.” When she jolted awake she was sitting straight up, throbbing and panting with her sheets pooled at her waist. “Good gods,” she said into the dark. “I need a grip.” Or a damned vibrator. Gina punched her pillow with more force than was necessary, trying to beat out the lumps no doubt responsible for her trouble sleeping. Not that her fifteen-hundred-dollar room had lumpy old pillows, but better to lay blame there than admit the real reason she was fast becoming a sexual deviant. Besides, the fist pounding offered a desperately needed physical outlet, one that couldn’t quite distract her from the pulsing between her moist thighs. Glancing over at the bedside clock, she heaved a sigh and sat up. Blackout curtains often confused time inside the room, but the clock told her that seven a.m. had come and gone with nothing to show for it besides fitful spurts of slumber. Some restful vacation. She tossed back a plump array of covers and wandered to the slider. With a brief hesitation, she threw back green, velvet curtains. She blinked rapidly at the bright, cheery morning outside. She opened the door to let in fresh, tropical air, but since she was dressed in only a silk teddy and tap pants, she admired the view from inside. The ocean rolled and frothed and bubbled with the happy chatter of morning, and she wondered whether to be part of it or enjoy its rapture via room service. Part way to the bathroom, she plucked up the desk phone to place her usual breakfast order. By the time she’d showered and dressed, Eggs Benedict and fresh fruit were served on fine china and crystal on the deck. The sea air was crisp at this hour, though the chill would give way to summer warmth soon enough. With the perfect tang of lemony Hollandaise in her mouth and a ruffle of sea breeze on her face, she pondered what to do for the day. She never got her fill of the Amante del Mar. For five summers she’d come, sometimes exhausting herself with the wide range of activities the resort had to offer, other times doing absolutely nothing. Three months of mindless respite probably made her sound spoiled and lazy, but she knew better. She earned her summers here, hitting the ground running each August for another year of college cum laude, a part-time job that had edged closer to full-time last semester, and an assortment of family obligations that kept her hopping. In exchange for being an unflagging worker bee with top grades, she’d been awarded a trip here each summer since high school. Perhaps she’d hit the beach for some reading and sun. The new thriller sitting in her bag promised to be a page-turner. Still, immersing in the world of a book was tough when one of the most entrancing beaches in the world begged for attention. The

breathtaking panorama sang a siren song that was hard to ignore. People watching was almost a legal necessity, too. The dramas that unfolded on the island bordered on the sexual supernatural, and much like a train wreck, it was difficult to look away. Not to mention that the singularity of the island’s charms was related to Gina’s double major, psychology and alternative studies, a.k.a. parapsychology. There was little hope she’d be able to ignore her surroundings for long. Her parents had no idea Gina had carried a double major in the weird and unexplained. They would think she’d gone completely mental. Alex knew, however, and he supported her in part by offering these trips to immerse herself in an apex of paranormal energy. This place was magic incarnate, and she wondered if Alex realized just how much she appreciated being part of it. Or how bittersweet this summer was, now that the annual treks were at an end. With college officially behind her, it was time to enter the world of adult employment and responsibility. This was the last carefree summer she would have on the island, the last time she would have weeks on end to bask in the realm of unexplained passion phenomena and mentally catalog her findings. As a scientific bystander, of course. Not a participant. Her fork clanged as she set it down on her empty plate, and she sat back to sip coffee while listening to the sound of advancing morn. Gulls cheered, palms waved, and the ocean gurgled. It was a welcoming sound, a sound of home. There were no sounds of building in progress, either. Not from this side of the hotel. The construction project she knew broke ground a week ago wasn’t visible or even audible from her room. She wouldn’t have known about it at all if David’s work hadn’t put an official end to her private sunbathing nook. David. Lack of sleep rubbed grit inside her eyes with every blink, and he was the reason for it. He leaped into her thoughts when she least expected it. Memories of his electrifying kiss cropped up during morning breakfasts on the deck, late at night when she closed her eyes, and in the shower as steam caressed her and her hands roamed. A blind woman would be sexually haunted by the ripple of construction-sculpted muscles, the jaw chiseled from limestone, and dark eyes that blazed like a furnace from under a teasing sweep of sun-drenched blond. Not that Gina saw those delectable features anymore. She’d committed them to memory. Ten days had gone by since that fateful kiss, and they had managed to avoid each other completely. She had spotted him twice, actually. Once dashing through the lobby, and again on his way to the bar with a group of “good old boys”. She hardly wanted to bust in on that to say hello. Even worse, she was ashamed to admit she raced to the peephole in her door whenever she thought she heard him out in the hall. What would she do if she saw him there, anyway? Fling open the door like a love-struck groupie and beg him to kiss her again? Pretend she just happened to be going out?

She snorted at her folly. The power of this place must be getting to her. She did spend an inordinate amount of time in the company of romantic specter, after all. She’d learned the hard way about the odd energies on the island and their pull on libidinous heartstrings—energies every bit as real and potent as the tidal pull of the moon. Well, it might be tough to walk through fire unscathed, but the right flame retardant would keep it from consuming her. She forced thoughts of David from her mind and scuffed her chair back as she rose to survey the beach. It was midweek and not crowded. Beach with a book it was. Besides, she should get out and observe all the oogey boogey paranormal phenomena she could this summer, because it would be over soon. Forever. A stab of loss lanced her chest as she wandered inside to gather up her beach things. Oh, it wasn’t like she’d never be back to the Amante. She could return for a week here and there, just long enough to tease her before shipping her back to earth. No more full summers enjoying the tropics. It was an ungrateful attitude perhaps, but in her heart she knew this year’s trip was the end of an era. Grabbing hat, glasses, and beach tote, she headed out for another day in paradise. The urgent rush of the waterfall called to her in the lobby. Nooo, the whooshing water seemed to say. Don’t leave. She emerged outside, squinting into the bright light as she became one with the joyous fervor of sun, sand, and sea. Putting on dark sunglasses cleared her vision even as a new possibility occurred to her. Why did the era have to end? She had a full life ahead, with a number of very important decisions looming close by. Did they have to involve forcing her rather unconventional education into a white collar mold? A fawning couple passed by, and she could feel the raw, sexual energy of the island as it coaxed and cocooned the pair into a mire of private lust. There was a research project waiting to happen. She should make it official. The thought jolted her. Why not? Couldn’t her what-to-do-now choice involve ongoing research here on the island? A grant to investigate the natural and supernatural powers that made this place tick would allow her to stay on for some time. Then again, she knew why not. Alex. As much as he supported her summer forays here, going official with paranormal grant money would draw attention to this place that he would never approve of. Damn few people knew the truth that she did, and there was a great deal more going on here that she didn’t. She knew Alex kept things from her, and he no doubt had good reason for doing so. The world wasn’t ready for a place like the Amante del Mar, which sprung up in the midst of the north Atlantic like an anomalous wellspring in a parched desert of mundane mortality. It was welcome and compelling, but out of place. Such a location would not be allowed to exist as is if the world found out about its existence. It would become a source of panic, suspicion and fascination. People would dissect, analyze, and defend against the powers at work here. But not Gina. She was ready to face the unknown and understand it.

She crossed the bridge over a bubbling koi pond, then hit the beach and shuffled over smooth white sand to a vacant lounge chair. A thick towel lay over the tops of each unoccupied chair, and another was folded at the foot. Something she could have used during a fateful sunbathing session not long ago. A wry grin twisted as she deposited her tote on a tatami mat alongside the first available seat. Nearby palms chirped with the welcome of exotic birds, competing with the melee of a frolicking tide that seemed intent on drawing her away from the book beside her. As she slathered on sunscreen, she allowed her senses to absorb the idyllic setting. The topic of how to avoid calling this vacation a final hoo-rah returned to mind. She couldn’t ask Alex to fund her further. He’d done so much already, and an uncle’s generosity should only have to extend so far. Nor was it plausible to pursue a grant on her own, considering how few could be trusted with the knowledge of what she planned to study. With a sigh, she lay back and picked up her book. So few. But not none. The tiny thought was potential-laden, and she let it swell and take shape like a grain of sand in the path of an oyster. There were others who already knew about the island’s uniqueness, others with significant money. Perhaps they’d be willing to invest in the niece of Alex Rose for the greater good, or simply to ingratiate themselves to the resort owner. Her book forgotten, she spent some time pondering the idea. It could work. She’d talk to Alex, see who among his confidantes would be a good candidate. Then she could stay here for how long? Six months? A year? Ocean surf foam pushed higher on the beach, as if egging her on. The research would end eventually, of course. Nothing lasted forever. But it was something. If she had any hope of making this work, she would first have to formulate a solid plan. Grants meant proposals—well-conceived, professional and compelling proposals that people paid good money and a greater amount of time to prepare. She couldn’t come off like some fluffy new grad with a half-baked idea. Painstaking detail, that’s what she’d need. Along with perseverance and a fair amount of personal grit. She tossed her book aside and settled her mind to preparation mode. This was it— her chance to find a purpose and answers to this place. No more Miss Fun Gal. Her last hoo-rah had just officially rounded the corner to Serious Business.

Five DAVID DUCKED INSIDE THE RESORT through the delivery entrance, pausing first to stomp mud and sand from his work boots. Water droplets whipped off his hair as he tossed rebellious strands back off his forehead and muttered some less-thanappreciative comments about the weather. It was to be expected—he was in the tropics, after all. Still, if his research on average rainfall had been accurate, the amount of water dumped on his project thus far was triple the norm. Construction had been hampered by frequent and sudden precipitation, insidious storms that cropped up with no warning. He’d rise to sunny skies and maybe a few cottony wisps, but by noon the near-omnipresent sea breeze would whip into an urgent frenzy and usher in a shroud of roiling, black clouds that meant business. With long strides, he passed the kitchens and storage areas to a long hall that threaded him back to the main elevators. On the way, he wished for many things. He wished he had a towel, and that his slicker wasn’t dripping water onto the imported, Italian marble floors. He wished he was dry and warm, ideally with a beer in hand. And he wished his bottom line wasn’t in such dire straits. He punched the elevator button with a grunt of irritation. Three weeks since breaking ground, and he was far enough behind to make even a contractor sweat. Delays were inevitable, and weather was an uncertainty any construction business worth its galvanized nails factored into their schedule. But this was ridiculous. Every time he tried to hammer into this island, it fought back by tossing a bucket of water on his efforts. The elevator dinged, and he entered and pressed the button for the second floor. A distracted male and a besotted couple floated in behind him, the latter too enamored with one another to bothering punching in their floor. The tall guy was dressed down enough to be a fellow economy-floor roomie, but the lovebirds had a higher-end look that made second floor accommodations less likely. Then again, the last person he assumed that about proved him quite wrong. David snorted at the thought of that day, then threw a self conscious glance around in hopes no one noticed. The couple hadn’t, but the other man gave him a sideways look and tucked what appeared to be a romance novel into the bag he carried. Weird. Still, far be it from David to judge a guy by the cover of his book, especially one who kept himself in as good of fighting trim as this one did. He glanced down at the guy’s bag, which seemed to contain several other fluffy novels. Hell, maybe he should ask to

borrow some. Might be an improvement over the whole lot of nothing he did when the weather turned his schedule to shit. That was really what his irritation was all about. After all, he’d done construction since he was thirteen, and the whims of Mother Nature hadn’t ever thrown him for this much of a loop before. He simply went home and lived life until it was time to get back on the construction site. But here, there was no “life” to live. Unscheduled visits by the rain gods meant cabin fever in his room. Oh, he’d been told he had access to some of the standard resort amenities, but that didn’t intrigue him. Besides, he was the hired help, not an ultra rich over-indulger. The elevator let him out on the second floor, along with Closet Romance Reader. As suspected, the lust bunnies didn’t move except to wind themselves around each other tighter. An image of finding them still interlocked the next time he boarded the elevator almost produced a chuckle, but he stifled it on behalf of the guy walking a few steps ahead. They parted ways when the other stopped at his door. As he shifted his gaze to avoid eye contact, David caught a glimpse of himself in a gilded wall mirror. Christ. Half his hair was pasted down, and the rest looked like it was trying to launch into space. He looked scary and bedraggled, not worthy of the resort basement let alone the “cheap” quarters. The Amante del Mar had high expectations of their worker bees and wouldn’t approve of his current state, which most closely resembled Frankenstein’s older, uglier brother. He was grateful the resort owner hadn’t seen him. Or Gina. He cast an instinctive glance at her door as he strode up to his own. Not that her seeing him was likely. They hadn’t managed to cross paths at all lately. He pulled the snaps open on his rain slicker so he could reach the keycard in his back pocket. Another night of masturbating in the shower as he imagined finally hooking up with his sun goddess. Great. He gritted his teeth at the notion of spending another night alone in his room, sleepless and obsessing over Gina. Standing outside in the downpour had been more fun. He could just knock on her damn door. He’d gone there twice already with on the lame pretense of claiming his hot water was out and asking if hers was, too. She hadn’t answered his knock either time, leaving him to wonder whether she’d been out or didn’t want to open the door for him. Maybe she wasn’t checked into the room anymore. He hadn’t seen her at all for two weeks, making it highly unlikely she was still at the resort. Maybe she’d been joking about him being stuck with her all summer. Maybe it was payback for the searing kiss he’d foisted on her without asking. Or maybe heaven had called and demanded her return. Goddesses of her caliber were in short supply, even in Xanadu. The back of his jeans were damp beneath the mid-thigh-length slicker as he jerked the card loose and fitted it in the door. “Wow, it’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?”

He swung around, startled that he hadn’t heard anyone coming down the hall, let alone the very object of his thoughts. Whereas the storm had turned David into one of the Universal Classic Monsters, Gina’s brush with nature only made her more beautiful. Dewy drops of water clung to her forehead and long lashes while a towel draped like a veil over her head. A rosy pinch on her bronzed cheeks gave her a blushing bride look he found damned sexy. Another towel wrapped her like a caress, covering most of her from the armpits to the tops of her gleaming, wet thighs. His stomach somehow managed to sink to the floor and leap to the ceiling at the same time. With a blink of shock, he realized she’d been speaking to him. “I said, hope all this rain isn’t holding up construction too much?” He stepped back through the portal to the Real World and shrugged. “This is what I get for taking on a tropical climate.” She pulled the towel from her head to drape it across her shoulders, rubbing one end over soaking ringlets that were much wavier than he envisioned during fantasies of her standing before him dripping and naked. An eyebrow lifted skyward, and she stopped toweling off. “Is something funny? Besides me looking like a drowned rat, that is.” A quick mental inspection of his facial muscles turned up an unauthorized smirk, and he banished it. “You look great. I was just thinking that it’s funny seeing you here.” She gave a meaningful glance at her own door. “Well, we are neighbors.” He shrugged off the slicker and held it with one finger crooked inside the collar. “I wasn’t sure of that anymore. Thought maybe you’d gone home.” “Getting rid of me isn’t that easy.” “I hadn’t planned on trying. I just hope you aren’t too mad at me for taking away your private tanning booth.” Her laugh tingled along previously nonexistent parts of his body. “I’ve come to terms with being just another commoner on the public beach now.” “Oh, you’re definitely not common.” His eyes moved over her with a deliberation that deepened the pink on her cheeks and jack hammered his pulse. “Life in the public eye has done you good.” “Thank you, but this weather hasn’t been great for sunbathing. I’m not usually this wet.” Her pink cheeks went downright scarlet at the slip. “I mean, it’s not usually this intense. The season.” His eyes locked on hers, and his stomach started a slow boil. “I know what you mean. It’s definitely intense.” For a long moment they stared, each lost in private thoughts David hoped were circling the same neighborhood. Her lips parted, dragging him back to the night he’d tasted them in this very hall. The storm outside moved into his veins, churning up a

longing that made him grateful for the slicker he held in front of his stiffening, aching cock. Her emerald eyes darkened as she broke contact and glanced back at her door. He realized she was contemplating a quick retreat and blurted out, “Let’s shower and have dinner together.” To her shocked stare, he swore mentally. “I mean, why don’t we each get dried off and dressed, then you can come by my room and I’ll cook us up some room service?” Her hesitation stuck a dagger of disappointment in his gut. Dinner in his room had come off as too presumptive, too forward. After a long pause, she blew out a breath. “That sounds great. But my place has an ocean view. Say in one hour?” His dick leapt with applause even as he tried to keep himself grounded in reality. She was offering dinner, not a pole dance. Besides, he wasn’t supposed to be spending this island excursion rutting like a Wild Kingdom mating episode. Although, as they finished making dinner plans and disappeared behind respective doors, he couldn’t come up with a very convincing reason why not.

Six STUPID. SHE WAS SO STUPID. As Gina bustled around the room, tidying up with one hand while towel drying her hair with the other, she wondered what paranormal being had possessed her when she’d not only accepted David’s dinner bid but had raised him an ocean view in her own room. What must he think of her? No doubt what any man thought of a woman who cavorts naked on an island and invites them to her bedroom. With that she threw a guilty look at the bed, wishing it were the kind that disappeared by folding it up into the wall. Then there’d be no mistaking her intent. Maid service had been there in the past few hours, so at least the freshly made bed would make it look more hands-off, right? Or maybe that just made it appear all the more welcoming. She frowned and grabbed the stack of notes she’d been jotting for her research proposal, stuffing them inside the desk drawer. Turning to survey the room, she realized there wasn’t much she could do to alter the screaming focal point of the bed. The monster sat there staring at her accusingly, as obvious and insistent as if she’d trained spotlights on it. All that was missing was a neon arrow pointing to the mattress. Maybe they should eat dinner out on the deck. Then they’d at least be out of the bedroom. She opened the slider and stuck her head out to check the weather. The rain had stopped. Tropical air hung a bit heavier with moisture than normal, but the early evening was warm and inviting. Good. Still, the deck furniture was beaded with a generous amount of moisture. She looked at the towel in her hand. Wet furniture? No problem. With a smile, she raced back inside to grab the rest of the linens from the bathroom. The job required three of her four bath towels, but it was done. When she went in to point a blow dryer at her unruly tumble of hair, she felt reasonably certain the outdoor seating arrangement would send a clear message about the propriety of her invitation. Not that she hadn’t had some damn improper thoughts out in the hall when she’d seen him standing there muscled and dripping. Well, who could blame her? She was a red-blooded woman. Eros, god of lust himself, couldn’t possibly project more raw, sexual power than David Gilroy. Should his construction career ever collapse, he could easily find work as a fashion model—perhaps for Calvin Klein underwear. Or in a calendar, dressed in a construction hat, tool belt and nothing else.

The image touched a smile to her lips that taunted the reflection facing her. Yeah, so, the guy was hotter than hot, and to make matters worse, the resort seemed to be amplifying her libido’s antennae. So what? She was a woman of high enough intelligence to hide a secret double major from her parents and maintain a 4.0 grade point average. Surely she could handle a night of room service with Mr. Calendar Model. After setting down the hair dryer, she checked the results of her efforts. Rain had softened her strawberry locks, leaving them with a buttery glow that fell in soft waves around her shoulders. Her makeup was subtle and her outfit as close to school marm as she could manage. After three expeditions through her travel wardrobe, she’d opted for her favorite red halter dress. She’d worn the same thing last time they’d dined together, but it covered more square footage of her than anything else she’d brought. She’d packed for hot tropical weather, not hunk self-defense. The top plunged and the halter back exposed a fair amount of skin, but she was fresh out of bulky knits and turtlenecks. Besides, he’d already seen her in nothing more than the scant bottom of her bikini. Surely a dress he’d already seen wouldn’t give him any ideas. A knock at the door wiped away all her brave thoughts, along with most of the moisture in her mouth. What little remained evaporated when she opened the door to a sight even more tantalizing than earlier visions of him as a calendar model. This was David Gilroy in the living, breathing, ungodly handsome flesh. Gods. Dinner in her room? She was in big trouble. David’s hair fell enviably straight in the humid climate, trying without success to conceal a stomach-churning blaze of chestnut eyes. He was freshly shaved and smelled of leather and soap. Lightweight casual slacks and a short sleeve hunter-green shirt clung to the delicious musculature of someone who was solid male. When her eyes finally found his again, his stare drove Gina’s pulse into her throat. The way his smoky gaze took in every curve was enough to make her glance down to ensure her breasts hadn’t fallen out of her dress. So much for her clothes not giving him ideas. After their eyes concluded respective side trips, it was David who spoke first. “Wow. I feel underdressed.” Better than undressed, which was how she felt. “Not at all. It was either this or various old shorts I kick around in.” Or her mini dress. Or the bikini. Fat chance of that. “Come in.” She forced herself to release an iron grip on the door and step aside. A tingle of energy shot through her when he brushed against her arm on his way in, and she rubbed the spot as her eyes followed him. The man definitely knew how to work a pair of jeans. “Considering I’m not here on vacation,” he said, “I’m afraid I didn’t bring much in the way of proper dining attire.”

She closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, and her gaze bounced guiltily upward when he turned around. Had he caught her staring at his ass? “Luckily,” she said, “the second floor rooms don’t require a coat and tie.” Though she might require CPR soon, the way she was hyperventilating. Alone in her room with a hunk. What had she been thinking? His laugh tumbled through her, landing in a very dangerous spot that catapulted her out of her spot and straight to the room service menu on the desk. “So, are you hungry?” she asked. “Starved.” He took a seat in one of the club chairs flanking a small table in the far corner of the room. She walked over to him while she flipped through the menu, somehow unable to make sense of the words she’d seen a hundred times before. “I thought we’d eat outside,” she said. “You know, on the deck.” She winced when her attempt to make the suggestion sound casual fell flat under a nervous stutter. A small quirk twisted a corner of David’s mouth as he shot a quick glance at the bed. “To take advantage of that ocean view, no doubt.” She nodded. “It’s not one to miss, especially at sunset.” She appreciated him giving her a graceful way out of the bedroom subject until he practically bolted from his seat to stand right in front of her. His nearness threw the room into an odd sideways keel that left her dizzy. “We don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable,” he said. “We could go out instead.” She stepped back, trying to distance herself from the flipping sensation his voice set loose in her belly. “Don’t be silly. It’s perfectly all right.” “I wasn’t trying to play spider-lures-the-fly when I asked you to dinner.” “I know.” Yet she felt a twinge of disappointment at the thought. Maybe the fly had secretly hoped the spider wanted more than a meal. “I just didn’t want to wait weeks before seeing you again.” He folded his arms across a chest she had the sudden urge to lay her head against. “Preferably when I didn’t look like I’d just stepped out of a mud pit.” “Me too. I just thought the patio would be, uh, nice.” And safe, a notion his proximity now made seem ludicrous. The danger wasn’t standing in front of her. She was in greater danger from herself. He nodded, and his smile widened into something that warmed her stomach like fine brandy. “So what’s good around this place?” Her brow rose. “Plenty. But I figured you’d be a room service expert by now yourself.” A guilty look flashed across brown eyes. “Not really. I’ve only ordered a couple breakfasts in.”

“I usually do breakfast in my room, too. But most guests are all about the huge buffet at the Amante Pier.” He shrugged. “I’m more low-key about the morning meal. Plus it’s easier to order in while I get ready for the work day.” “Agreed.” She picked the menu up off the table, offering it to him with a tiny smile. “Everything is grade-A here. I just don’t know what you like.” His answering smile suggested he liked something in a red dress nearby. She swallowed as he took the menu from her, and they sat down to order. This was going to be a long night, and she tried to beat down fantasies of how it would end.

Seven DAVID WASN’T SURE WHAT PART of the evening was more spectacular—the volcanic sunset, the sinfully decadent food, or his mesmerizing dinner companion. He’d seen right through her suggestion to dine outside, which had obviously been to put distance between him and her bed. That didn’t make the suggestion any less brilliant. The sky ignited with a passion unlike any he’d seen, and as they ate, colors churned over the horizon like a kaleidoscope in perpetual motion. While his room’s view was tropical and pleasant enough, Gina had been right to offer dining on her side of the hall. His steak practically cut itself, and the garlic mushrooms were seasoned to utter perfection. Food had never been such a near sexual experience before, though his last meal with Gina had come close. Was the food here always so sublime, or was it just her presence that turned dining so sensually enticing? Since his budget had prompted him to start dining primarily from the sundries shop, he hadn’t had much opportunity to compare. The skyline dimmed from brilliant neon to the soft, velvet blue of imminent evening as their artistic arrangements of food dwindled to empty plates. The magic of the setting only heightened as nighttime approached. They shared the scenic view with mutual appreciation and casual conversation. He learned much about the woman across from him, and each new fact intrigued and impressed him more. She’d just earned a four-year degree in psychology, summa cum laude, and was preparing a grant proposal for an indepth field research project. A far cry from the empty-headed, trust fund babe he’d imagined. Gina Munson was gorgeous, intelligent, and projected an erotic heat that far outshone the electric sunset they’d shared together. And apparently she had money, or came from money. A complete, gift-wrapped package that would send most men leaping through a circus full of fiery hoops in hopes of possessing her. Many men liked their women more moneyed and less intelligent, perhaps, but David preferred the opposite. The women he’d known with substantial wealth tended toward a certain take on reality he wouldn’t exactly refer to as “earthly.” Each dollar spent came with a puppet string attached that tried to impose changes on his existence. No thanks. David marched to an altogether different drum, which was why he’d intervened when Gina ordered their meal and attempted to put in on her tab. He had dinner billed to his room instead. She’d objected, but at his insistence, relented with a grace he appreciated. The truth was, he could “afford” to eat room service at every meal, if he chose. But the point of taking this job hadn’t been to squander the earnings on the simple task of

fueling his body. He had other things to fund at present and preferred a bargain when he found it. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t spring for a heavenly meal every now and again—especially if the likes of Gina came with the deal. Now that was a bargain. “It’s getting a little chilly,” she said, pulling him back to the sounds of sea and exotic nighttime creatures. “Maybe I should grab a wrap.” Gina rubbed at one bare, silken shoulder and smiled. When the vaguest lean of her body suggested she was about to rise from her seat, David beat her to it and helped her out of the chair. “We could sit inside,” he said from behind her as she rose. To be sure she didn’t misunderstand where he expected to plant himself he added, “There’s a table and chairs in there.” She nodded, silent. The room was warmer, truly. David’s livelihood made him less vulnerable to weather, but Gina was exposed to a lot more of it in that dress. He held back the appreciative growl that tried to escape as she preceded him to the table. That dress had half driven him crazy the last time they’d been together. Had she realized the effect it had on him? Was that why she’d chosen it? Either way, the familiar full mounds of her breasts had strained against the crimson fabric all throughout dinner, begging him for a much closer inspection than the momentary glimpse he’d seen the day they’d met. Realizing where his thoughts were plummeting, perhaps suggesting they move one enchanted evening inside hadn’t been the wisest choice. Nor was what Gina did next. She whirled on David without warning while he was still on the move, bringing them to within a scant heartbeat of one another. His heart stopped as she sucked in a gasp, then took a step—albeit a small one—back. “I wanted to say thanks again,” she said. “For the lovely dinner.” The tentative tone aroused his suspicion. He let his eyes roam over the fine, gentle contours of her face. “You’re welcome. But it sounds like there’s a ‘Sorry you have to eat and run’ in there.” Her voice held the rasp edge of a file to it, but her gaze was steady as it met his. “Not at all. I just wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed the meal. I’m glad you suggested it.” Something about the way her mouth took on a pouty contour when she said you twisted his insides into a hard and pleasurable knot. “I couldn’t have you getting away again. We don’t manage to bump into one another very often.” Her swallow was visible, along with the rose-red flush on her cheeks. His undoing, however, was when his gaze rose back to find her pupils widening. He knew what it meant. She wanted him. Their lips met before David realized he’d reached for her, and the room around them imploded until there was no reality left outside the utter perfection of their joining. He felt her stiffen for a couple of heart-pounding beats, then melt against him. Her hair smelled of tropical secrets, and he ran his fingers through the silken tresses as he

devoured her. The moan he elicited when his tongue found hers drove his already hard cock to near immolation. Gods, she tasted good. Better than in the hall. Gina had been a cool flame during their times together, reserved and aloof but with glimpses of burning desire hidden within her depths. Now, he saw the door to her need fling wide open to reveal a virtual goddess of passion. He whispered her name against her lips as her hands went exploring, running down the breadth of his shoulders and along his back to just above his ass. She slid those delicious hands around to stroke the sides of his hips, and her dangerously close proximity to the bulging ache in his fly prompted him to tighten his grip on her. He was overcome by the desire to possess this woman in a way no other man had or ever would again. The electricity in her touch made him shiver and sent a growl rumbling up from his throat. Her tongue stroked and teased his mouth until he had to restrain animalistic groans, and he released her hair to embark on an expedition of his own. As his caress slid along her upper arms, he allowed his thumbs to graze the rounded perfection of full breasts. Her gasp was immediate and tightened his abdomen. He pushed his hips forward, grinding against her in a way that left little of his intent in question. His intoxication with this woman was potent and complete, and as his hands squeezed her breasts, he thought incurable. The atmosphere around them seemed to thicken, as if molecules of lust had spilled out of them to hang in the air like tropical mist. He would have given anything to scoop her up and take her to bed right then, but he didn’t want to push ahead too fast and risk breaking the powerful spell. He relinquished their kiss enough to pull back and gaze into her eyes, finding them heavy-lidded and dark green. His own eyes would no doubt be black and alien by now, as much as he needed her. As he watched the soft but urgent rise and fall of her quickening breath, David reached for the tie behind her neck. His voice was a half whisper, half growl as he slowly pulled one end. “I’ve wanted to do this since the day we met.” A half-dozen expressions flicked through her gaze, but she made no move or sound other than the ragged control of her breathing. One commanding tug pulled the bow loose, and he peeled the halter halfway down before letting it fall. His stomach knotted with urgent want as her full breasts sprang free. Her pink nipples were highlighted to even greater degree by the creamy tan lines now surrounding them. “My God, Gina. You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.” More compelling than perfect rounds of flesh and rosy nipples was the way they strained toward him, firm and hard in evidence of his effect on her. That proof of her desire made him groan, and when he did, they puckered even harder. With a rapturous moan, his fingers brushed over the tips of those nipples until her head dropped back. His mouth took possession of the one nipple, reveling in her tender, sweet taste. He alternated flicking his tongue and suckling her while his hands slid along the soft curves under her dress. When he found her firm ass cheeks, he molded

them in his grasp and pushed his groin against her. The feel of her beneath the fabric seared him until his cock grew too impatient to wait for freedom. He returned his mouth to her kiss-swollen lips, letting one hand stroke both breasts while the other slid down to seek out her pussy through the fabric of her dress. As soon as his fingers located her soft mound, she gasped and her legs seemed to weaken enough for her to grip his shoulders for support. He desperately wanted to shift their venue to the bed nearby, but not yet. He fought the urge, hoping to prolong the sweet torment just a bit longer. With slow deliberation, he inched the floor-length dress upward, grasping folds of fabric and sliding it along her thighs. Her breath came in quick, short bursts now; and her hands were tugging at the waistband of his slacks to pull the tucked ends of his shirt free. Her hands snaked underneath, and she offered tiny sounds of appreciation as she roamed the contours of his abdomen and chest. His teeth clenched when Gina found his nipples, teasing them by raking nails with precision over the nubs. The sharp-soft touch ignited him, and his hands finally found their way all the way up beneath the long skirt to the taut, satiny-smooth ass he’d lain awake at night imagining he was anointing with coconut oil. He swore under his breath at the surprise at finding that ass bare, but a bit more exploration revealed she hadn’t gone naked beneath her dress. She was wearing a thong that was even scantier than the bikini he frequently fantasized bout. Sexy. Damn sexy. His fingers slid under the hip strings while he again claimed her lips, and soon the negligible undergarment was out of his way. Her pussy curls were soft and trimmed close, making quick work of his search for her pussy lips. One stroke along wet, slick heat made Gina cry out, then whisper words of encouragement he couldn’t quite make out. Her hands traced a molten path down his stomach to the front of his pants, and the first squeeze over his cock told him he wouldn’t last if he allowed her frenzied touch to continue. He pulled back and gave into the instinct he’d been restraining. He circled her in his arms and hoisted her up, cutting off her squeal of surprise with a teasing kiss as he walked them over to the bed. Her sandals dropped to the floor along the way. He laid her on her back with care. Her dress was still on, but the bodice was down around her waist and the skirt was hiked mid-thigh. She gazed at him with smoky longing as he kicked off his own shoes and peeled his shirt over his head, and she reached for him as soon as he lowered himself on the bed. Silken bedding wrapped them together in a heated tangle of limbs and murmurs and hungry lips. A tug on his zipper granted his cock freedom at last. When he pressed it into her eager hand, his groan was guttural and the tension in his balls almost painfully exquisite. God, how he wanted this woman, like nothing and no one he’d ever desired before. Everything paled to the feel of her body, and the smell of her passion blooming for him.

A shocking geyser of emotions churned inside him. He literally felt taken over, consumed by a force that drove his every move and touch and shudder. He’d never loved a woman before, not truly. There had been desire, of course. Downright lust, sure, and even utter infatuation. But this was nothing like the rest. Was this what it felt like to fall in love? To make love, to truly take the emotion of two hearts and spirits and manifest that energy into a palpable sexual force? As he settled himself over her, staring down into gentle, yet wildly chaotic eyes, he knew it was the truth. He was falling in love with a woman he barely knew. And he was about to enter her with more than just his cock’s fevered, male need. He would penetrate her with his mind, body, and soul. Terrified as that prospect should have made him, the notion didn’t alarm him at all. It invigorated him.

* * * * Gina had never been this aroused in her life. David’s hands slid over her—deft, powerful, stroking her until every nerve ending cried for a universe where nothing existed but his longing for her. And long for her he did. She could see it in the feral gleam in his eyes. It touched a primal chord deep within her, one that resounded with the chorus of ancient days. She saw bizarre flashes of early human ancestors, dating back to a time when tribal drums and soaring bonfires were insignificant next to the pounding, insatiable beat of a man yearning to mate with a female. His female, the one he would brand as his own by losing himself deep inside her forever. Every time her eyes met his, she felt his gaze plunge deeper into her, down to that real but dangerous place where tangible body met immortal spirit. A place that was dangerous, because any man who succeeded in crossing the barrier would take the key to her very soul. The last one to barely come close had taught her just what a painful, cumbersome task it was to change the locks. Oh, Lord, this was no good. She was falling for David hard and fast. Closing her eyes against the intensity was useless. As the burning caress of his touch plunged between her thighs, Gina cried out not only in desperate need but shocked awareness. How shallow her feelings for the cabana boy had truly been! She’d thought Giovanni had pierced her to the quick that summer. Now she realized he’d barely grazed the surface of what she could feel for a man. She’d always known her need for Giovanni outweighed his for her, and that insight had been proven beyond true. Not so with David. What she saw in his molten brown eyes was honest fire, a passion that would frighten most. When he looked at her, that fire blazed into something just short of nuclear. She knew that when he sank into her, he would be claiming more than a notch on his bedpost. He would fuse to her in a lasting,

molecular bond. It was a look she’d seen so many times at the Amante del Mar that she’d lost count. But such a look had never been directed at her. His lips traced a trail of fire between her breasts, bringing her back from her thoughts. His tongue lingered over each nipple in turn, almost driving her right over the edge of irreversible madness. “David,” she moaned, her voice too clouded with desire to maintain any kind of normal cadence. “Please.” He ran a hand over her quivering stomach and down between her legs. As it approached her clit, she thrashed her head sideways with a sharp moan. He bypassed the throbbing nub, however, to seek out her entrance. Her pussy burned to feel the length of his hard cock drive into it, and she was wet and ready for him. She heard him let out an approving growl when two of his fingers slid easily into her. For long moments, he worked his fingers with a delicious friction in and out of her pussy. She bucked her hips toward him in desperation while her dress climbed steadily to bunch around her waist. When his soaking fingers were withdrawn and slid upwards to find her clit, her orgasm exploded. She cried out in a shock that brought his mouth down to hers, not as if trying to silence her, but to partake in the delighted moans her throat and lips could barely utter. Then his smoldering stare darkened with male impatience, and with slow deliberation he lowered himself. His cock was hot even against the fire blazing between her thighs, and she murmured his name in a desperate whisper when he paused torturously at the entrance. One hand went to her breast as he pushed inside her, one slow inch at a time until he stretched her wide and pierced her deep. She’d never been filled with a man like this; neither in girth nor intensity. He did not merely give her his cock, he gave himself to her, a sensation of two bodies united into one boundless, universal entity that took long moments of utter, still silence to comprehend. “My God, Gina, honey.” She felt his body shiver as the awestruck words provoked a quiver in her own. “What is this spell you’ve got over me?” He began to move, spearing her with a new wave of heightening desire which begged to explode in another series of rhythmic pulses of ecstasy-obsession. Then his words began to sink through her sexual fog. A spell. Of course. Jesus, that’s all this was. She’d been so carried away by the sensations he evoked that she’d nearly forgotten where they were. She froze beneath him, the catch in her breath alerting him to something other than complete surrender to erotic heaven taking place beneath him. He stopped moving. “What is it?” His tone was gentle, yet ragged with breathless desire. “It’s this.” Try as she might, she couldn’t will herself to move away, nor would her voice rise above a whisper. “This isn’t real.” “I know.”

She blinked in surprise when she found his gaze calm and accepting. “You do?” He brushed a sweaty strand of hair back from her forehead, pressing his lips to the area he’d left abandoned. “I’ve dreamed of you so many times that it’s hard to believe you’re really here with me.” The tone was hypnotic and dangerous, threatening to weave her back into the sticky trap of island magic. Somehow, she had to stay logical. She had to think this through. Gina shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “That isn’t what I mean. This isn’t what we think it is. What you feel, what I’m feeling, isn’t real.” “This isn’t real?” “No.” He teased her lips open with his tongue, igniting a maelstrom of pleasure with his tongue. “So, we’re just imagining this?” “David...” His head lowered to her breasts, nipping one peak lightly to elicit a soft cry. “This doesn’t feel real to you?” He pulled his thick, pulsing erection back, then plunged it with gentle but firm insistence until she cried out. “How about this?” A fresh prickle of perspiration broke out on her brow, and she closed her eyes to avoid the possessed, burning reality of his own. “We can’t let this win.” He moved in and out of her again, seeking to claim all new depths of her by pushing his hips against her pelvis. “Yes we can. Because if you’re not real,” he said, his breath coming in shorter gasps as his control seemed to waver, “then I want to stay in this dream with you forever.” This time, his lips came down on hers with almost bruising desire. All logical thought ceased to exist. No longer able to fight the burning need, she wrapped her legs around his back and pulled him deep inside her. He drove his cock deep, over and over until orgasm overtook them both in a cannonade of cries and moans and sweat-slicked caresses. They lay silent and panting in one another’s arms until the world resumed its slow spin around the sun some time later. David stayed in her room that night, and a few whispered bits of conversation was all that lay between the two of them and the rhythmic breathing of slumber. Still, it was much later into the endless night—during which time the man who believed their passion was real reached for her again—before Gina was able to relinquish herself to a fitful, guilt-laden sleep.

Eight ALTHOUGH THE TROPICAL SETTING could hardly be regarded as “dry” by a man from a desert region, David had to admit the morning sun had done an admirable job of eliminating traces of the previous day’s thunder shower. Not dry enough to where much work could get done, but as he and his foreman sipped coffee from the lobby hospitality station, he was satisfied with what he saw. The day had dawned with a razor-crisp edge and a sky so brightly blue that it almost hurt his eyes. Not the slightest wisp of cloud had stayed behind as evidence of yesterday’s downpour, and the air held just enough warmth to make a light jacket optional. David wore a tight-fitting T-shirt and jeans with work boots, the latter getting far less muddy than he’d expect following the sudden turn in the weather just fifteen hours earlier. The cement slab poured last week was still dark and wet with moisture; he was happy to note the slight slant had allowed the rain to run off properly. No small puddles meant his work with the bull float had netted a flat, even surface. Good. Work could begin again as soon as tomorrow if the weather held, and they could have the elevated stage poured and ready by the end of the week. A nearby pile of treated lumber that had been hastily covered by a tarp had been examined and was as bone dry as the setting could allow. The crew’s last-minute efforts to shelter the site had helped quite a bit. All in all, David was more than satisfied with the status of things. He grunted in approval as he allowed the earthy scent of coffee steam to fill his nostrils. Of course, he had to admit there were other reasons for his current satisfaction. Too bad he had to meet his foreman so early to survey the damage and discuss the schedule. After last night’s surprise detour to nirvana, he was having a hard time focusing on anything other than wishing he’d had time to awaken Gina with some slow lovemaking before beginning the day. She’d worn him out during the night, and he’d barely managed to get up in time to meet Joe as it was. Maybe he could make his quick exit up to Gina with a nooner. A tiny smile hedged over the brim of his coffee cup at the thought. “Hello?” David blinked to erase the image of Gina’s delectable curves and looked at his foreman, Joe Casino. The man was eyeing him carefully, and the hand that wasn’t clutching a coffee cup was propped on one hip. “I could have sworn I left a boss around here someplace.” David frowned. “Sorry, what?”

Joe shook his curly black head. “Where are you today, man? That’s the third time I’ve realized I’m talking to myself. What’s on your mind?” “Nothing.” “Come on, spill. You’ve been miles away all morning.” David sighed. “I’m just tired.” He hid the smile that tried to hitchhike on the comment. “Didn’t get much sleep last night. So what were you saying?” “I said, I think tomorrow would be safer for starting in on the upper slab. What do you think?” David nodded. “Not much else we can do, unless you want to come out here with your hair dryer.” “Don’t knock it. I’m about ready to try anything to keep us from getting farther behind. If the weather would hold for just one more day, the guys and I can get the second slab framed up and poured. With you being supreme master of the bull float and all, it’ll be leveled and covered by nightfall.” “Weather reports say possible rain again tomorrow,” David said. “But only a twenty percent chance right now.” Joe rolled his eyes. “I’ll be eligible for social security by the time this ‘quick’ project of yours is done. That is what you called this job, as I recall.” “Hey, I can’t control freak weather.” David took another slug of his coffee and helped Joe pull the plastic cover the rest of the way off the slab. “Besides, you said you always wanted to visit the tropics.” “Visit, not work in.” The man’s dark eyes flicked in the direction of the hotel. “It’s a wonder they ever got that thing built. Must have taken twenty years.” “The weather’s been a lot wetter than normal this season.” “Just my luck.” David had to laugh at the man’s dour expression. “Leave it to you to bitch about being forced to stay longer in paradise.” He clapped the man on the back. “I take it absence isn’t making Larissa’s heart grow fonder?” Joe grunted. “Just greener-eyed with envy.” “I told you to bring her. She could hardly object to work delays if she were hanging out on the beach.” “Are you fucking kidding? Larissa can object to Sunday ending in y when she wants to. Anyway, I couldn’t afford to bring her.” “We could have worked something out.” Joe shrugged, the nylon of his windbreaker rustling with the movement. “I didn’t want to ask that. I know you’re scraping together every cent for Jenny’s college.” David took a long drink of coffee that was fast cooling but still a warm welcome to his stomach. “Yeah, figures my niece would inherit the family genius and destine herself for Ivy League.”

The man offered a wicked grin. “Besides, I didn’t want to be the only guy bringing a date along. I’ll survive, assuming I don’t get washed out to sea by a flash flood.” David grinned. “We’ll get back on schedule. We always do.” “A positive line of bull I hope the client buys. When’s your next meeting with Rose?” “I’ll bring him up to speed next week, by which time I’m hoping to report that things are chugging full steam. Meanwhile, all you need to worry about is not letting the slabs get over-wet. At least there’s no worry about them drying too fast.” The foreman began an oration on why this was easier said than done, but David’s attention slid away the second he spotted the slender figure approaching. His heart sped as tanned legs strolled toward him, her hair bouncing in a jaunty high ponytail that exposed her long neck. Gina’s breasts were barely restrained in a thin tank top that begged him for a repeat performance of the previous night. The smile on his face stretched until it almost hurt until he noticed the serious expression she wore. The curve on his lips faded to pleased caution as he walked toward her. “Hey,” Joe called after him. “Where you going?” He ignored the man and kept walking until he was a couple feet away from Gina. The look in her eyes stopped him from bridging the gap to kiss those dewy, full lips. Maybe she was mad because he’d left without saying goodbye. “Good morning,” he said. “Sorry I had to leave so early. I tried to be quiet so I wouldn’t wake you.” She didn’t reply. She was pissed at him. Damn. “I left a note,” he persisted. “I saw it.” Dark clouds of unease sailed in over the perfect morning, and David wondered what had happened to warrant this harbinger-of-doom attitude. He waited as her gaze evaded his for several beats until his patience wore out. “What’s wrong?” She folded her arms under her breasts. “I came to tell you I think it’s best if we don’t see each other anymore.” The words jabbed into his abdomen. “You came to see me to tell me you can’t see me?” Her chin lifted a fraction. “I didn’t think a Dear John letter would be fair. I wanted to tell you in person.” What the holy shit? “Is this because I left this morning? I said I’m sorry.” “No, David, that’s not it. I just can’t pretend like this.” His spine stiffened. “What the hell does that mean? What exactly are you pretending?” She blew out an upwards breath, delicate bangs flying back off her face. “Not pretend, exactly. That’s not the right word.”

“Well, what is the right word?” His voice edged upward out of encouragement and into frustration. “What was last night to you, anyway? Some kind of joke?” “Of course not!” “Then what are you playing at?” Green eyes flashed a warning. “I’m not the one playing. It’s this place.” She waved an arm around. He stared at her quizically. “What about it?” “There are things you don’t know about this resort. It does things to people. They come here normal, but before they know it, they get carried away with their feelings.” He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s called romantic atmosphere. So what?” She shook her head. “No, it’s more than that. A lot more. You don’t understand.” “Because you’re not making any sense.” “I can’t explain it. Just believe me when I say I’m trying to do the right thing.” His grip on the coffee cup tightened until the cardboard buckled inward. “Funny, because this is feeling a whole lot like the wrong thing.” Her voice dropped. “You don’t really want me. It’s best if we admit that now.” Shock flew out in the form of a laugh. “I don’t? After last night, how can there be the slightest chance that you believe that?” “I know it seems like it, but you don’t really feel that way. Not honestly.” “I was there last night. And I’m here now. I know what I feel.” His gaze narrowed. “Or is it that you don’t want me?” “No. I mean yes, of course I do. I did.” He threw his free hand upward. “Then what’s the problem?” “Look, this isn’t easy for me. I learned the hard way what happens when people let this island get to them. I can’t let that happen to me again.” “So that’s what this is about? Some other guy dumping you?” He moved closer, smoothing his voice into a reassuring murmur. “I’d never hurt you, Gina. Whoever it was that hurt you, I’m not that other guy.” “I know.” Her features softened, and for a gratifying moment, David thought he’d battled her demons and won. When he lowered his lips toward hers, however, she flinched back. “I’m not worried you’ll do what he did. I just know what we’re feeling isn’t real. And that’s not fair to either of us.” He broke off his pursuit of her lips, blowing out a whoosh of annoyance. “You keep saying that. But what’s so not real about us?” An ugly thought narrowed his gaze. “Wait. The rich girl doesn’t want to be seen with the hired hand, is that it?” The jaw that fell open seemed almost convincing enough that he was off base. “Don’t be ridiculous! How can you even say something like that?” He folded his arms. “I call ’em as I see ’em. And right now there isn’t a single thing about this that makes sense except for the fact that you woke up and realized I’m not worthy of you. Or should I say your bank account.”

She set her fists on her hips, her cheeks reddening. He heard the scrape of boot heels behind him even before Gina’s gaze flicked over his shoulder. One look from her fiery emeralds was enough to send Joe into a hasty retreat. “Is that what you think of me? A spoiled rich girl who thinks she’s too good for anyone else?” “I don’t see anyone else around here who feels entitled to take over an entire side of the resort for private sunbathing.” “Take over?” She closed her eyes for a moment. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” “That makes two of us. You don’t want to see me because last night was nothing more than some giant game to you. Now you can’t even be honest about why you find me so repulsive.” “I never said you were repulsive. You’re a great guy.” “Oh, sure, I’m great.” He leaned toward her a little to punctuate the word. “So great you want to dump me. What choice do I have other than to fill in my own blanks? Admit it. Our investment portfolios aren’t a suitable match.” They glared at each other in silence. Then Gina shook her head. “I obviously made a mistake coming here. I was trying to be honest with you because it was the right thing to do. But if this is what you think of me, maybe you don’t deserve the effort.” He threw his crumpled coffee cup aside. For shit sakes, what was this Judgment Day crap? A little past baggage he understood—hell, who didn’t fly the romance jet these days without at least a carry on? But what the hell had he done to earn the Satan’s Spawn treatment? Why did he always wind up with the flaming drama queens? God save him from trust fund babies. “Yeah, I’m a real bastard,” he said with enough vehemence to fling a drop of spittle in the direction of his fallen cup. “Compliments, dinners, pleasant conversation, telling you what was in my heart, making obnoxiously passionate love to you. I should be drawn and quartered.” She snorted. “Don’t forget accusing me of being a game playing, overindulged heiress. That’s my personal favorite.” “If the princess slipper fits.” The look she shot at him could have melted glass. “And to think I was worried the spell I was under might be tough to break. Thanks for mooting the point.” Gina spun on her heel and made it three steps before turning back for a final jab. “Not that it matters now, but you’re so wrong about me it borders on criminal. I wouldn’t care if you were penniless, other than to hope you weren’t coming onto me because you thought I could be your Sugar Mama. You’d be disappointed if you were. I’m not equipped for it.” She flicked a quick gaze skyward. “I wish you sunny skies for the rest of your job here.”

As she stormed off, he heard the unspoken remainder of her wish. So you can be finished and out of my life that much faster.

Nine GINA COULDN’T REMEMBER WHEN she’d been in such a foul mood. Being out among nature always had a calming, cheerful effect on her. Today, however, the harder the gulls tried to cheer and the more spectacularly the ocean sprayed against the jetty, the more irritated she felt. Yet for some masochistic reason, she remained on a beach that continued to darken her outlook the brighter it sparkled. Couples scattered around served as a constant reminder of what pawns humans were in the games of love and lust. And she’d been quite the willing chess piece, hadn’t she? The island had nearly taken her whole, a victim like the rest. Only for her, it was worse. The other poor bastards didn’t know what hit them. She’d known damn well a tornado was coming, and instead of running like hell, she’d spread her arms wide for it. She made the mistake of shutting her eyes against the annoyingly perfect afternoon and was instantly punished for it with an image of David. She saw him as he’d looked looming over her the week before, bare-chested and dark-eyed with a potent longing that had carried her to unimaginable heights. Unimaginable and imaginary, she reminded herself. She was a student of the paranormal who was about to go pro. She should have known better than to let the island’s potent energies divorce her from common sense. How could she ever hope to start a career here if she lost her grip on reality before research even began? After their explosive lovemaking—the second time had been even more tender and surreal than the first—Gina had lain awake most of the night, teeter-tottering between wanting to cry tears of victory or shout in agonized defeat. David evoked feelings she never believed existed. Perhaps they didn’t. The whole thing had been a distortion played out in the world’s largest sexual fun house mirror, the Amante del Mar. The worst part was knowing David wasn’t truly taken with her. He was a victim too, an erotic DUI who’d gotten drunk on sexual energy. If not for the power of this place, she might not even inspire him to hold the elevator door for her, let alone send her into orgasmic bliss. So that night—that glorious, breathtaking night—had been an awful mistake. A painful waste of her time and heart. If she was to be a researcher studying the metaphysical properties of the island, she needed to be professional. She had to shield herself from its power. She could chalk up her experience with David—and Giovanni, for that matter—to raw data collected in person. But no more “samples” could be allowed. Big words that failed to buoy her spirits in the week since she and David had sex. Because you know it was more than sex—much more.

No. She’d felt the pull of this place long before he’d stumbled across her in that clearing. She’d always sensed the island’s sensual undercurrent and had seen firsthand how readily it pulled people under. Did the phenomenon occur only on this island, or did apexes of lust exist elsewhere? Maybe in her research she would discover that many popular romance destinations had become so because they were imbued with otherworldly eroticism. Could those explosive energies be controlled? Harnessed? Conquered? She knew she couldn’t afford to wait any longer. She had her proposal and should go to Alex with it. Gina would ask for potential sponsors for this paranormal venture. If she had her way, she’d make Mr. Rose himself a test subject. After all, the man had lived here for more than ten years, yet seemed impervious to its supernatural charms. How did he do it when she couldn’t last the summer? She snorted as she gathered her things and shuffled through sand and late afternoon shadow. Perhaps she could develop a vaccine using his blood and inoculate herself. Who knew, maybe bottling his immunity could earn them both a fortune. Then again, was he truly that unmoved by the power of this place? She wasn’t here all year round, after all. Maybe he struggled with it, too. Night had fallen by the time Gina entered the long hall of offices representing the corporate hub of the Amante del Mar. She’d called ahead as soon as she’d returned to her room, only to be told Mr. Rose was unavailable. No matter. He’d make time for her. He almost always did. Besides, her proposal was important enough to risk catching him in a conference call to Paraguay, ordering a hundred cases of Cristal for the five-star restaurant, or whatever else it was resort owners did when secretaries claimed they were unavailable. She’d showered and dressed as professionally as island vacation wear could manage, then grabbed up her proposal notes and headed downstairs. Halfway down the hall, her footsteps slowed in response to the dark blue uniform standing outside Alex’s office. What was Security doing there? The paunchy, frizz-haired man looked familiar, but she couldn’t recall his name. “Is there a problem?” she asked. “No, Miss Munson,” he said, but he nevertheless held up a hand to stop her advance. “He’s in a meeting. Do you have an appointment?” “I’m family. I don’t generally make appointments.” “I’m sorry, but he says he’s not to be disturbed. You’ll have to come back later.” She frowned, propping the hand not presently clutching her notes on one hip. “What’s going on?” “Resort business. Nothing to worry about. I’ll tell him you stopped by.” She was wavering between pressing the matter and leaving when the door flew open and a distraught woman strode out. Gina’s eyes widened. “Jessamine? What’s

wrong?” The woman’s eyes were glazed and haunted, though neither detracted from her Amazon-like statuesque beauty. She pushed back a lush fall of raven hair and wavered a moment, but just shook her head and walked away. What was that about? Jessamine Valentine was a hostess and waitress at the resort, not a position that normally reported directly to the hotel owner. Then again, Jessamine was no ordinary hostess. Alex had taken her under his wing for reasons Gina didn’t know. He’d refuted her suspicions that romantic intentions were involved, though. Whatever she was to him, it was strictly business. And from the looks of things, business was off. Alex caught sight of her through the open door. “Gina?” With no further invitation, she brushed past the guard who was watching the other woman’s departure and swept into the office. “What happened to Jessamine? She looks upset.” Though not as upset as he looked. Alex looked rattled. Despite casual island attire, he was beyond businesslike, but his face was etched with lines that should be a good ten years off. The corners of an already serious mouth were pointed even farther south. In that moment, the blond streaks painted throughout the temples and crown of his nearly jet-black hair looked gray. Then in an instant, his features sprang upward in what could only be described as a miraculous—or, more likely, fake—recovery. “It’s nothing,” he said a bit too quickly. “Just a small matter of hotel security I’ll have to deal with after a quick meeting I have scheduled in a few moments.” He cleared his throat and made a visible effort to relax his stiff composure. “What brings you here?” She tried to lighten the mood by batting her eyes in innocence. “Does a niece need a reason to visit her favorite uncle?” He grunted in suspicion. “And her only uncle?” “Makes it no less true. Actually, I have some rather exciting news I want to talk to you about.” She flicked him a brief guilty look. “News that involves asking you for a favor. But it seems I’ve come at a really bad time.” He glanced at his watch, but favored her with a doting uncle’s smile. “I’m afraid so, but I admit you’ve got me intrigued. How about a clue as to the general nature of this news, then we can discuss the rest over breakfast tomorrow?” She weighed whether she should leave him wondering until the morning. Still, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’ve decided what I want to do with my degree.” His brows lifted with so much genuine approval that the rest tumbled out before she could stop it. “I want to launch a research project here at the resort.” His brows dropped again. “Oh? What kind of research?” His tone implied he knew precisely what kind.

“I want to know more about what makes the island tick.” He shook his head. “We’ve talked about this, Gina. I don’t want to shine more light on some of the unique aspects of the resort.” A knock on the door interrupted, and Gina swore under her breath when she saw who was standing in the open doorway. “I’m sorry,” David said. “Am I early?” His expression was pleasant enough, if not a bit frazzled, until he spotted her. Then he froze. “I seem to be interrupting something.” “Not at all.” Alex, who had been leaning against his desk with arms folded, launched forward with the brisk motion of a man with no time to lose. “Right on time.” The men shook hands, then Alex turned to Gina. “Mr. Gilroy, this is Gina Munson, my niece. Gina, this is David Gilroy, owner of Built-Rite Construction. Mr. Gilroy is handling a remodeling project on the west side of the resort.” A damn annoying look of triumph glittered in the man’s features as he strolled forward to extend a hand. It was an I-had-you-pegged-right look. “Pleased to meet you.” She sent back a look that said you’re-still-flunking-Gina-101. “Mr. Gilroy.” She infused her tone with smooth velvet as she took his hand, a task made much harder by the thrill of electricity his touch shot through her. “I haven’t heard any construction noise. But then I imagine you must not be getting much work done with the wet reception the island has given you.” She gritted her teeth when he squeezed her hand a bit harder than was polite. “I’ve faced worse and lived to tell the tale.” He gave her a dangerous grin. “Quite recently, in fact.” With a small jerk she pulled her hand away, working to keep her smile glued in place. She refused to allow him to bait her. “I’ll just leave you two to your meeting. I’m sure you must have a lot to talk about, what with all the inevitable delays the rain must be causing.” She turned to Alex, annoyed to see his expression blended between curious confusion and amusement. “Breakfast tomorrow, then?” A twinkle in his gaze told her he would definitely be bringing this brief interlude up later. Apparently, she hadn’t fooled him. She swallowed. “Do you want to meet at the pier?” he asked as she walked up and offered him a quick hug. “Or shall I have room service set up here in the office?” “Here would be easier. Lots of private business to discuss.” At the doorway she paused and flicked the briefest of glances at the irritated man who was scowling at her across the room. “Mr. Gilroy, Uncle Alex. Good night.”

Ten “I SAID I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.” David sat with Joe and three of his construction guys in La Isla Taberna at a table he swore was shrinking by the minute. He wondered for the fiftieth time why he had agreed to share company in the lobby bar with four boisterous, sweaty men. Hell, he wasn’t in the mood to share company with the lottery commissioner if he was waving a ten-million-dollar winnings check. “Yeah, I heard you.” Joe swigged back another twelve ounces or so of imported draft and tipped back in his chair. “I’m not saying you should talk about it, I’m just saying don’t worry about it.” “Which still involves us talking about it.” “Still can’t believe you were doin’ a rich beach babe right under my nose.” “Joe,” David said in warning. “Chicks like that ain’t nothing but trouble, man. Even hot ones like her that make you want to drop your shorts right where you stand and shove it to her like—” “Joe! You’re still talking about it. And I’m still your boss.” Joe put his hands up. “Sorry.” The other three failed to choke back laughter. Jake spewed foam from his fresh beer head into David’s already scowling face. That sobered the man up. “Sorry, Boss.” Yep, this table was definitely closing in on him. David pushed back from the table, nearly taking a drink waitress out at the knees. “Hey, don’t go,” Joe said. “I told you I was sorry.” “I’m going to turn in, guys. Early day tomorrow.” A few grunts accompanied David as he turned away. Before he was out of earshot, he heard Jake mutter, “Told you to lay off, dude. Thought you’d have wised up after the whole Veronica thing.” David rolled his eyes as he stalked away with a clenched jaw. Oh, sure. God forbid they should leave out any of his other relationship highlights. Yeah, so this wasn’t the first time he’d been had by a femme fatale. Big news flash. The last one had treated him like a pup on a leash. Or maybe a purse puppy with a diamond studded collar. Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate, either. A miniature terrier would have received top-notch treatment in Veronica’s impeccably groomed hands. David was simply a chew toy. As he walked past the waterfall to the elevator bay, he cast a glance down the hall in the direction where his earlier meeting had taken place. Not to mention an unscheduled confrontation with Gina Munson, a.k.a My Family Owns This Island.

Despite her dramatic speech, he’d been right about her. She might be less highbrow than his last girlfriend, but she was a pampered princess nonetheless. No wonder restaurant waiters fell over themselves to serve her while she hung around to torment David all summer. She was dialed into the bank account behind a billion-dollar fantasy island. She probably came by private charter or a yacht larger than his home. My dinner was on the house. He snorted at the memory. Of course it was. So was all her meals, entertainment, jewelry, clothes, whims, men... The elevator opened, and as he punched up the second floor, he lingered a moment on the button. What was Princess Paradise doing on the second floor, anyway? Why slum with the cheapskates instead of lording over a penthouse suite with a view of the pearly gates? Maybe she ranked bottom-of-the-rung accommodations because of her position in the family. Or was she being punished for some perceived wrongdoing? Or had it been her choice? Interesting. He shoved the thought away. Interesting maybe, but irrelevant. Gina was a few logs short of a cabin. Perhaps she was caught in the grip of some bizarre tropical disease that morphed hot-looking females into neurotic she-wolves who mated, then devoured unworthy partners afterward. Yeah, some mystical force on the island possessed gorgeous women and turned them into succubi. A moment of panic gripped him as he got off the elevator as it always did now. He was afraid he might see her. After a few moments frozen in place, he kicked himself. Why tiptoe around in fear? There was nothing he could do about it. If Murphy’s Law had anything to say about it, it would happen. When he’d desperately wanted to see her, he couldn’t catch a glimpse to save his soul. Now, fate would no doubt find it hilarious to stick her in his path at every turn. He all but stomped down the hall, the deep plush of the hall carpet irritating him as his feet sank in. Good God, they’d even overspent on high-foot-traffic hell, daring the wrath of the carpet gods by installing incredibly thick, dense velvet pile where other hotels wisely put in indoor-outdoor or commercial nylon carpet. And this was what they put on the “cheap” second floor. Were the carpets even more outrageous higher up? Wall-to-wall mink on a padding of natural sea sponge, perhaps? How often did they have to vacuum footprints and steam traffic dirt off this? Replace it entirely, for that matter? It was decadent and impractical to the point of irresponsible waste. Yeah, industrial waste. He was so intent on cataloging the resort’s flaws that he almost bypassed his own door. With an abrupt halt he fumbled for his key card, acutely aware of the door pointing at his back with all the innocence of a semi-automatic. Any moment it could fly open, unleashing another exhilarating round of kick-the-dummy. As he clicked his lock open, he shot a glance over his shoulder. Maybe he should knock on her door, try to straighten out this mess. They could call a cease fire to avoid

awkward stress for the remainder of his time here. So what if the sole fault lay with her inexcusable, paranoid behavior? He could be the bigger person. If nothing else, it smacked the ball back in her court. Then she could be the one worrying about ducking in and out without being seen. He pulled the card out of the slot, but a thought held his feet in place. Her uncle was his client. Should he so much as blink wrong at Gina, she could run crying to Uncle Dearest, who in turn could find another contractor. David would be sent packing on some phony pretense without getting paid for the work already done. He could sue, but the resort’s inexhaustible financial resources could tie things up in court for years. Where would that leave his promise to his widowed sister that he would help out with his niece’s bright college future? Goodbye, Ivy League. Hello, “Would you like fries with that?” He couldn’t risk messing with client family ties. Screwing the resort’s guests while on contract would likely be considered ethical poor taste. Screwing the client’s niece, on the other hand, could get David pushed out to sea on a barrel. Or inside it. An even worse thought materialized as he pushed open his door. What had Gina and her uncle been discussing when David arrived? Convenient timing. Was she already greasing the cog to get him fired? Perhaps she’d gone whining about the dastardly hired help, the nasty construction worker who shooed half-naked princesses from sunbathing hidey-holes and then robbed them of their virtue. If she wanted to make trouble for him, David’s breezy island flower could turn into a category five hurricane. He shut the door behind him with overabundant zeal, flinging the key card on a side table as he stormed into the bathroom. A razor-sharp stare over flared nostrils greeted him in the mirror, and he began flinging items of clothing this way and that. He needed to wash off this day, preferably with a pressure hose and a flame thrower. Still, as he reached into the shower to yank the water on, a note of reason floated into his outrage. Alex Rose had been nothing but business cordial. Brief and rushed, perhaps, but not suspiciously so. He’d even gifted David with a voucher for breakfast on the pier to thank him for keeping as close to schedule as possible despite the weather. A voucher he would be damn well be happy to use tomorrow. There would be no risk of running into Gina since she would be dining in Rose’s office. Maybe Gina being in the office was just coincidence. They were family, after all. Or maybe Rose was just biding his time, weighing the options before taking action. Maybe he wanted to give David a false sense of security before pulling the mink rug out from under him. Scrubbing himself raw with the washcloth did little to rub away thoughts assaulting him from every direction, but there was nothing he could do now. Either Rose knew David had slept with his niece, or he didn’t. If he did, David could try and explain his side of things. He’d done absolutely nothing wrong. Gina was of age, had consented, and had gone mental afterward. Sad, but these things happened. If Rose was a sensible

man, surely he’d seen how eccentric his niece could be. This should have no bearing on David’s job. Right. More likely, any man who touched Rose’s niece would be presumed dead until proven guilty. Shit. Of all the women who had flirted with him here, shaking their bikini thongs and barely covered breasts at him, why did he have to go and tangle with the one Rose would regard sacred above all the rest? Yep, one of these days someone was going to have to repeal that damnable Murphy’s Law. It was causing him way too much trouble.

Eleven GINA WATCHED THE KISS, which was suffused with an ageless, almost fatal passion, rather than doing the polite thing and turning away from the couple. It was like a living entity that existed apart from the two lovers, yet bound them together the way a thread joins two fabrics while retaining an identity of its own. “Did he kiss you like that?” Gina’s attention snapped away from the adjoining table, where the couple was joined surgically at the lips. Her head whipped around as she gaped at her uncle. “What did you say?” “I said, do you need a tissue for that?” He nodded to a tear she hadn’t even felt begin to trickle down her cheek. Where had that come from? She shook her head, stunned and embarrassed as she dabbed the offending moisture with a corner of her napkin. “I’m fine. Must be allergies.” This was number eight in her list of reasons why Alex’s last minute change of breakfast venue was a bad idea. She was in no humor to witness the universe’s utter lack of regard for her romantic apocalypse. Early morning had come and gone, the sun teasing in annoyance as it danced in and out from behind palm trees dotting the shoreline behind the pier. Clouds swept by on a breeze whose speed seemed out of sync with the blowing strands of Gina’s hair. Images of puffy white dragons and geese and Christmas trees flew by, reminding her of happy summer days staring at clouds as a child. A ridiculously perfect morning. Or perfectly ridiculous, depending on one’s outlook. “Steak and eggs, medium-rare and over easy.” The waitress sang out Gina’s order with pride as a plate the size of Manhattan appeared in front of her. Reason nine was that everyone was far too damned chipper that morning. “I’m still a bit surprised you ordered that,” Alex said, nodding to her plate as he picked up a fork to assault his own meal. “Thought you didn’t like meat for breakfast.” In point of fact, this morning she didn’t like the thought of anything for breakfast. She hadn’t slept and wasn’t hungry. Still, she’d be damned if she would let a certain nail pounder ruin this much-anticipated conversation with her uncle. So, she’d echoed Alex’s breakfast order, which she’d figured would be a good business tactic. Maybe it would hint at like minds and common motives. Besides, the thought of grinding her teeth on something meaty was a rather satisfying prospect. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

About as much as she wanted to tie her steak to her naked body and go for a swim in a shark tank. “Nothing. I’m just surprised you wanted to eat out here. All things considered.” Reason number two for skipping the pier was the theme of her proposal. Considering Alex’s strong wish to keep certain island secrets, she’d been surprised that he changed their meeting venue to the restaurant. Why risk being overheard? His smile twisted this way and that as he chewed what was probably a delectable piece of steak. Gina wouldn’t know, as she didn’t seem able to taste hers. “On the contrary. All things considered, this seemed like the perfect place to discuss it.” She gazed at him in suspicion. He was acting all a-twitter, looking almost anomalous in his cheerful contentment today. Or maybe his typical cool reserve of Alex Rose just looked cheerful compared to her current mood. “Then let’s get to it.” She set down her fork and finished chewing a mouthful of egg. “Now that I have my degree in parapsychology, I want to use it.” She lowered her voice despite the empty tables in their immediate vicinity. “I want to conduct a research project here. Not to publish, of course. Very under the radar. I completely respect the need for discretion. Still, I believe it could be pivotal to furthering my personal studies as a scientist.” He didn’t reply, still spearing food into his mouth but meeting her gaze often enough for her to know he was listening. She took his lack of immediate rejection as a positive sign and stammered on before he could burst the bubble. “The information gained could be beneficial to you in running this place as well. The papers I already gave you include the full, detailed proposal with all the parameters. All I need is your approval.” She paused for a deep breath. “And private funding from someone or ones you can trust not to exploit my findings publicly.” His smile burned bright for a moment, and Gina’s heart soared with hope. Then she noticed his gaze was directed somewhere over her left shoulder. “Good morning,” he said to someone behind her. “I see you decided to take in the sea air closer to the shore than the construction site.” Gina’s soaring heart crash landed into the nearby palm trees when David drew level with their table and stopped. He barely glanced at her as he answered. “Thought I’d take advantage of that voucher,” David said. “Thank you for your generosity.” Voucher? She shot a gaze at her uncle, whose own was still directed at his contractor. “Why don’t you join us?” Alex asked. The bump Gina heard against the table made her think her jaw had landed on it at first, but a spasm of pain made her realize she’d jerked her knee upward instead. “We have plenty of room,” Alex went on, oblivious or uncaring to her stifled whimper of protest.

David’s hazy brown stare shot to her, and one of his brows lifted in a silent what’sgoing-on look. She shrugged almost imperceptibly and hoped he’d make his excuses. “I couldn’t impose on a family meal,” he said in answer to her prayer. “I’ll just go grab a bite.” “Nonsense.” Her uncle shoved his chair back and rose while gesturing their waitress over. “We’ll need another place setting here, Janet. Mr. Gilroy is joining us.” Damn. Silver and crystal arrived out of thin air, and looking as though he’d been bushwhacked, David sank into the seat on Gina’s left. She stared at her uncle as he sat back down, still giving orders. She swatted down the immediate question that came to mind. There was no way her uncle knew about her and David. Considering his reaction to her last ill-fated island dalliance, if Alex knew another hired worker had treated his niece as a resort perk, he certainly wouldn’t be inviting the man to dine with them. He would be inviting David to an execution. His own. That brought her to an even more troubling question, which was why he would ask an outsider to join them in the middle of her secret proposal. Doing so effectively ended the meeting, and the reason for that was obvious. He’d already decided to turn her down and saw no reason to talk further. She frowned while the two men discussed whether David wanted a menu or the buffet. This kind of backhanded tactic wasn’t Uncle Alex’s style. He was a man of few words, true, but the ones he chose tended to be direct and unapologetic. Maybe he’d changed their location because he never intended to hear her idiocy out in the first place. Remorse and irritation clumped together in her stomach at the thought. David rose and headed for the buffet. Perfect. Now she could find out what her uncle was up to. She’d barely opened her mouth to grill Alex when he pushed back from the table as well. “Excuse me, my dear. I need to have a quick word with the gentlemen over there.” She turned in her seat to watch his retreating back, frowning harder as he joined two figures sitting at the very back end of the restaurant. The men raised suspicion in both their manner and choice of seating. The forward tables were more desirable, for one thing. The farther out over the water, the better. Back tables were the last choice when the rest were full, but the restaurant was only sparsely occupied. These guys wanted inconspicuous seating. There was something familiar about the men, but they were no employees of her uncle. Their clothing said expensive casual, and the air around them almost shimmered by proximity to their gleaming skin. She blinked at the odd mirage for a moment. Both were exceedingly handsome, one golden blond and the other... She gaped as her eyes took in the other man. Hair of blackest obsidian, his features the chiseled artwork of a Greek masterpiece. She recognized him in an instant.

I am Lust. The mystery lover from her dream seemed to sense her inquisitive stare and turned to look straight at her. A lightning bolt gaze whispered of frighteningly seductive, fascinating secrets. The lazy curve of his mouth twitched up on one side to shoot an undeniable sensation through her. Memories flooded in, sending a flood of heat to her cheeks. She couldn’t fight off the image of her dream lover taking possession of her, and right on its heels came a replay of the night David plunged inside her, sending her soaring into sexual bliss. “Where’s your uncle?” She jerked, spinning around to face the live version of the hallucination she’d just been having. It was impossible to see David now without feeling the dizzying, erotic power in his liquid brown stare. The sheen of his sun-shot hair, and the powerful, taut muscles beneath his white tank called to her need. She swore she heard a growling, sensual laugh coming from the dark-haired man, even though he was sitting too far away for her to hear such a thing. Her heart fluttered somewhere in the base of her throat as she batted away the echoes of erotic memory. “He’s over there,” she said, nodding Alex’s direction. “He wanted to talk to someone.” David sat down with a large plate that surprised her. What a scant amount of food he’d seen fit to place on it. The last time she’d seen him here, he’d followed most folks’ typical buffet footsteps by heaping his plate. This one would barely fill the belly of a ten-year-old. She glanced down at her own bulging platter, wondering when they’d managed to switch eating habits. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I had no idea my uncle was going to do this.” He shot her a narrowed gaze. “Not a problem.” For a few awkward moments they picked at their food in silence. A thick layer of indecision weighed down the otherwise idyllic setting. Her stomach flipped with one passing moment, flopped with the next, then twisted over on itself completely. Eating became impossible. When Gina was unable to stand the silence any longer, she broke it. “So, is construction coming along okay?” He chased scrambled egg around his plate with his fork. “Not much more progress since yesterday.” Okay, she hadn’t expected there to be. But at least she was trying to make polite conversation. “Still,” his tone rose a bit from flat to casual reserved, “if the weather holds we expect to be back on schedule by the end of this week.” “That’s good.” The waitress came along with the welcome diversion of more coffee, and Gina took her time measuring and stirring cream and sugar in with a shaky hand. An experimental

sip prompted a grimace. She’d dumped in far too much sugar. David gulped his own coffee, not bothering to add anything to his. His eyes slid toward hers on occasion, both bouncing away from the jolt each time like rubberized bumper cars. Quite awkward, dining with one’s jilted lover. She’d had little occasion to face Giovanni post breakup. He’d been sent away shortly after she’d discovered him in the top half of a sixty-nine with another guest. Turned out it hadn’t been the first time, nor even the tenth since he’d bedded her. The man needed a revolving door in his bedroom. Sitting at the table with David was worse, anyway. He thought she was the bad guy and that he was innocent. And he was, really. What made this more difficult was the knowledge that she’d been the one to inflict the hurt. She’d known about the resort, but hadn’t stopped things before they’d gone too far. So she had little moral high ground to perch on. Although she could never explain to David why their tryst had been no more than a metaphysical farce, she hoped someday he’d realize that ending it was for the best. A bite of toast taken into an already dry mouth proved a mistake, and she coughed on the food she had no saliva to moisten. “Are you all right?” There was honest concern in his tone, a bare shimmer of the caring man whose hopes she’d dashed against the rocks. She nodded, swallowing hyper-sweet coffee until she could speak again. “Fine. Thank you.” After a pause, she stammered, “And you? How are you, uh, doing?” He stopped mid-reach for his fork. “I’ll be better once I know we’re back on track.” Her heart hammered against her chest, begging her to take him up on that offer. But it wouldn’t change the truth. “Once the job gets back on track,” he went on, “the rest should progress swiftly. Then we can pack out of here and get home.” Ah. He mean on track with the job, not her. No doubt he was in a hurry to finish so he could get away from her. Where was her uncle? His “quick word” had somehow become the Gettysburg address. As if the thought had loosed the genie from the bottle, her uncle appeared at her side. “Sorry about that.” She flicked a look over her shoulder at the compelling men. They were watching her. “Is everything all right?” she asked her uncle, shooting her head back around when the dark-eyed dream man gave her a knowing wink. Her abdomen gave a heated jolt. “Fine.” Alex smiled down at her, but made no move to round the table back to his own seat. “I think everything will be just perfect. But I’m afraid I have to cut breakfast

short. I’ve been called away on a rather important matter.” “Oh, no,” she said, feeling panicked. “Can’t it wait?” “It can’t.” “Sorry to hear that,” David said, and he jumped out of his seat to offer Alex a firm handshake. Gina was too shell shocked to speak. “We’ll do it another time,” Alex told the man. “Until then, I wonder if I could ask a favor of you.” David nodded. “Anything.” Gina pulled the napkin from her lap and dropped it on the table beside her. Now was the time to excuse herself, while everyone else was standing. She could run back to her room like the coward she was. “About that special side project I approved,” Alex went on as she started to scoot her chair back. “I’d like you to show it to Gina.” She froze, shooting a curious gaze at David. His eyes had widened enough to cause alarm, but he recovered quickly. “It’s not finished.” Alex smiled. “I wouldn’t expect so. But I’d like her opinion, if you don’t mind.” There was a brief hesitation. “Of course.” “Good. Let’s meet soon. I have some other construction ideas to discuss with you that you can start on when the current work is done, if you’re up for it.” David’s eyes widened in a surprise that matched Gina’s own. “For now, if I could steal my niece for a moment?” Alex looked at Gina. “I’d like a word. Family business.” Her tongue froze as David sat back down. What now? Her uncle scooted her chair out for her, taking her by the arm and steering her to a spot by the pier railing before she could say a word. Roaring thoughts almost drowned out the gentle sound of waves lapping smooth rocks several feet beneath. What the devil was going on with her uncle today? “Alex?” she asked when she found her voice. “What’s wrong?” “I’ve always tried to offer you encouragement, not advice,” he told her, looking out over the rail at the mesmerizing glimmer of the Atlantic. “But I have advice to offer you today.” He stopped and shot a look at the two men who were still watching, “And a message.” She furrowed her brow. “A message from whom?” Her gaze followed Alex’s to land on each of the strangers, both as different as night and day. One was as pale gold as the other was darkest night. Yet both shared a unique quality that transcended the realm of mortal men. The flaxen-haired man radiated the sunlight somehow, even though Sol was hidden behind a palm tree. The man offered her a slight nod and her breath left her. “What kind of message?” she whispered. Alex turned toward her with a gentle expression she’d not seen on his face in years. “You want to research some things about the island. Those two men can offer you some

special inside data.” She started to ask, but he cut her off. “I can tell you this much. The power you feel—the energy you sense here—it is real. But it doesn’t conjure up false visions of love. It merely echoes feelings that already exist inside of you.” She shook her head, confused. “I don’t understand.” “The energies don’t force you at someone you aren’t meant for, Gina.” He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “They merely turn up the volume on desires you might otherwise conveniently ignore. We humans are a busy and stubborn lot, you know. But in this place, certain feelings bubble right on the surface where they insist you examine them closely.” An internal battle ensued between woman and scientist as she processed this new information. “So what are you saying? That what I—what the other guests feel—is genuine?” “Of course. Do you think me so cruel I would knowingly profit from dreams built on nothing more than mystical falsehood?” She blinked. “No. I just thought maybe you didn’t realize it was happening.” He gave her a knowing smile. “Passion is hit with a spotlight here, but the feelings are all real. They come from within. Those feelings will remain—or not—after people leave, depending on their heart and intentions.” She risked a glance back to where David sat pretending to eat his food, though she caught his gaze slide over to hers again. “Okay, so that’s the message.” She flicked a glance at the mysterious men whose heads were now bent together in conversation. “What’s the advice you wanted to give?” “That you listen to the message. Let it in. Don’t be afraid to examine your feelings for him, Gina.” There was sadness in his eyes and words, a longing Gina knew meant he was offering personal experience. Before she could comment, he released her hand and jerked his head toward the back of the restaurant. “And one other thing. Don’t go near those two alone when you’re doing your research. If you want to meet with them, I’ll arrange it—and supervise.” A little late for that warning, she thought as a quick flash of her dream replayed. Then the final word Alex had said sank in, and her breath caught. “Research? You mean I can stay?” A smile cracked his features. “Your funding is guaranteed for two years. If you still want it.” “I do! Thank you, Uncle Alex!” She flung her arms around his neck, wondering which bit of his news was cause for greater excitement. His laugh was subdued but sincere. “We’ll talk terms later. For now, I’ll leave you to enjoy your tour of the new construction.” He’d taken no more than two steps when she stopped him. “Uncle Alex? Who are they? Those men.”

He turned back. “Part of many amazing things about this place that you don’t know yet.” He paused. “Though to be fair, they’re not entirely what you’d call men.” She tilted her head, a queer knowledge spreading through their stomach. “Then what are they?” His smile lit his eyes with something fiery. “Love and Lust.” Her eyes flew back to the table, which was now empty. The two were gone. She stared after her uncle as he made fast tracks toward the exit. Love and Lust. What kind of supernatural beings were they, then? Fairies? Angels? Gods? The gap in her knowledge of this place had just widened into a mystical canyon. One she couldn’t wait to explore. Her thoughts drifted back to the other table, to the man she’d believed up until now was nothing more than a supernatural distraction. But what she’d felt for him had been real. All of it. Which meant...so had what he’d felt for her. Her heart fluttered as she wondered how many more of her dreams she dared ask the fates to fulfill in one day. Her stomach thudded with a dull undertone of pain as she came to grips with the fact that she’d thrown away genuine passion. The island had merely put it under a magnifier where she couldn’t dismiss it. Now, however, her focus was crystal clear. Gina was in love with David—had been since that day he’d snapped her half-naked picture. Sadly, her ignorance and fear had cost her a man who would probably never forgive her or regain whatever feelings he’d once had. For all her pride in being a top student, she sure was the class dummy where love was concerned. Could she convince David she’d been guilty of temporary insanity? What could she say to get him to give her another chance? Nothing, most likely. And he wouldn’t take Alex up on the offer to extend his stay here to do more construction. No doubt he wanted to get away from this island as fast as possible. Still, shouldn’t she at least try? She turned back to the table, smoothing her white cotton shift. Today she’d taken her life in a new direction. It was time to see how much of she wanted would come along for the ride.

Twelve DAVID WAS REELING FROM Rose’s comment about further construction projects. How long did the man expect him to stick around? A month? Three? Longer? More work sounded good, even if he’d have to use a little profit to bring Joe’s sweetheart over periodically. Then again, more island work meant more time watching other couples indulge romantic vacations of a lifetime when his own love life had gone right down the crapper. He glanced up from his internal debate just as Gina was walking back. He had no clue what “family business” had been discussed out of earshot, but it was a very different Gina who returned to the table. This version still wore a look of shell shock, but now it was as if she’d been barraged by joy-tipped bullets. The glow on her face seemed to have little to do with the moist sea air, and her emerald eyes were lit with inner fire. Her gaze twisted his insides even tighter than the cool glare she’d shot him earlier. Neither her current daze nor earlier indifference had subdued her beauty any, that was for sure. Though framed by a miraculous island day, Gina was no more outshone by it than a true masterpiece was downplayed by the frame surrounding it. Silken hair and the wisp of an almost-too-sheer cotton dress fluttered on a lazy breeze as she stood tableside, her curves begging his hands to take their fill. The bite of cantaloupe he’d been chewing turned to ash in his mouth. “So, about this tour you're supposed to give me?” she asked. Her tone had changed as well. There was still ambivalence, but also layers of light teasing rather than flat nonchalance. Alarms sounded in the back of his mind. What was she playing at now? Still, he threw his napkin down alongside the meal he couldn’t eat and stood. “Sure. I’m finished anyway.” As they walked together in silence across the sand to the winding walkway, he wished he could find a way to postpone the inevitable ridicule. Perhaps his damn phone would ring. As much as he paid to have service out here, would that be too much to ask? Some urgent request for immediate attention elsewhere would get him out of this. Or maybe a dormant volcano on the island would erupt. Then he could take a rain check he’d never cash. He’d been shot down by this woman enough. Having to give her a private showing of the depths to which his romantic hogwash sank was about all he could take. Then again, perhaps a fresh dose of humiliation would cure him from the idea of staying at the Amante to take on more work.

Both of them made scattered attempts to drum up pointless conversation, but neither seemed able to pick up the rhythm. A heavy question mark hung over them like a thundercloud threatening to spoil an otherwise sunny day. The sight he was about to show her would do the job quite well. As they reached the wide dirt stretch that had been cleared to make room for foot traffic and equipment going to the site, he stopped and took a deep breath. He turned off and ducked around a pair of A-frame barricades to a new, narrow path winding through nearby flora. This would be interesting. Talk about stepping off the beaten path. He started off to Gina’s apparent surprise. “That isn’t the way to the site.” “We’re not going to that site. There’s another one.” The path was wide enough to allow the pair to walk comfortably side by side and still allow another to pass in the other direction, had anyone been there. But there was no one. This was a secret still well-kept. Concrete footing had been laid in the same width and style of fan-combed concrete comprising the walkways fronting the resort beach cottages and five-star restaurant, though this one deliberately meandered this way and that, leaving explorers to take their leisure and wonder what lay hidden beyond the next turn. As they reached the final bend to their destination, David’s pulse thudded in his throat. “It’s not finished yet,” he said, his voice sounding strange and dry in his ears. “But you’ll get the general idea.” They stepped out into a clearing that was familiar, yet transformed. An audible breath caught in Gina’s throat as he watched her wide eyes take in the new space. “Oh my God,” she said quietly. “When did you do this?” “I got approval three days after I first saw you here.” His gaze followed hers around the space, which had been widened to house a small courtyard with a sitting nook, a water feature, and a tiny gazebo, the latter two items in place but neither painted nor running. Lighting had not yet been installed, and more seating and landscaping was on order. It was hardly the right time to show off his handiwork. Still, he could picture the finished setting and was pleased with the progress thus far. Gina moved forward, the shell-shocked look returning as she spun in a slow circle. Stopping in front of the fountain that had been shipped in and assembled the day before, she stared at the captivating and near life-sized mermaid positioned almost on the exact spot David had first seen Gina. Sculpted marble hair spilled behind the siren in luxurious waves as she arched her back, naked breasts pointing skyward. A pair of dolphins poked their heads out of what would be the waterline to regard her beauty. David felt his cheeks burn as he watched her stare at it. With a hiccup that was possibly a giggle, Gina rushed from there over to the nearby gazebo, pausing when a sandaled foot lifted toward the first step. “May I?”

“Of course.” She was in the gazebo a heartbeat later, turning back to face him with an unreadable expression. His stomach cranked down on his few bites of breakfast as he waited for laughter to erupt at his foolish, romantic idealism. Hell, his men had laughed their asses off at the idea—and they’d had no clue about the ludicrous fantasy behind his sudden inspiration. Mr. Rose, on the other hand, had loved the idea and approved it immediately. An ironic move, considering who David had been thinking of while recommending half-naked statuary and intimate seating arrangements. Framed in the open woodwork of the gazebo with a breeze toying with strands of her hair, Gina appeared every bit as much a mystical goddess as the fountain sculpture in his foreground. David would give anything to be in that gazebo with her, but truth kept his feet riveted in place. Whether or not she chose to mock his display of infatuation, things between them hadn’t changed. She didn’t want him, a fact that made every second toiling over this side project burn like a jagged sliver up his love life. But finish it he would. Someone deserved the happiness he’d thought he had found here, people who could revel within a private heaven-in-paradise. Thoughts pulled his gaze along every familiar curve and angle in the setting, and when he found Gina’s eyes again, he jerked in surprise. A glassy sheen blurred her sparkling emeralds, and her face was a mask of emotion. Her whisper was almost inaudible from the dozen or so feet separating them. “Oh, David. It’s so beautiful.” His feet began to move of their own accord, drawn by the sultry allure of her voice. Keep your head. “There’s a lot more work to be done before it can be opened to the public,” he said. “But your uncle agreed it won’t be an advertised setting. This will be left a private mystery for the adventurous few to stumble upon. At least until word of mouth gets out.” The upward curve of her lips pulled him still closer. “The adventurous few?” Somehow his feet found the pair of steps leading him up into the gazebo. “I’m sorry if this all seems presumptuous. I was just so taken by, uh, the setting when I first saw it that the idea came to me.” The setting or someone in it, anyway. “No, not at all,” she said. “I’m just so stunned that you thought to do this.” He drew as close to her as he dared while his eyes searched the endless depths in hers. “I promised you I’d do my best to preserve the magic here.” “You’ve done more than that.” She glanced to the fountain, color rising in her cheeks. “You've gone well beyond exceeding it.” The velvet in her voice wove a spell that wrapped itself around his vocal chords. He cleared this throat. “I’m glad you like it.” “It’s incredible. David, I don’t know what to say.” She averted her gaze from him, but he felt her silken smooth hand slip around his own. A jolt surged up his arm. “Thank you for showing me this. I know it was my uncle’s idea for you to bring me here, but

I’m glad you did.” She frowned. “Why did he ask you to show me this? You didn’t tell him about the day you found this nook?” He shook his head. “I never mentioned that to anyone. Good thing in your uncle’s case. He’d probably have skinned me alive.” She seemed to think for a moment, then nodded to the mermaid. “A little memento since I made you destroy your camera film?” He snorted. “There never was any film. The camera is digital.” Green eyes widened. “So I am on the Internet, then?” “I deleted your shots off the card. Couldn’t have my crew ogling the scenery.” Her smile twisted into an expression of regret. “After everything I’ve done, you shouldn’t have cared. And you shouldn’t have had to bring me here. I don’t deserve it.” Her voice dropped back to a whisper. “That must have been difficult. I’m sorry.” David’s stomach dropped at the sorrow in her words. He pulled his hand away from hers, the heart-grabbing rejection in her gaze flickering to confusion when he framed her angelic face with both hands. “Of course you deserve it. This was—is— your secret paradise.” He glanced around for a moment, then returned to her mesmerizing stare. “Even if I tried to insinuate myself into it.” Stroking back soft strands of strawberry blonde, he forced the rest past a cautionary lump in his throat. “I don’t know what I did to drive you away, Gina, but I’m truly sorry for it. I wish things were different.” She took the hand caressing her hair and pressed a gentle, yet inflaming kiss into his palm. “You did nothing other than show me caring and honesty. Which is more than I can say for how I treated you.” A tear fell into his palm, and with no other prompting, he wrapped her in his arms. He wondered if she could hear his hammering heart. “It’s okay.” “No, it isn’t.” She pulled back and met his gaze with fire. “I was a coward, afraid that the magic of this resort was all that lay between us.” She turned her back on him. “As you may have gathered from this little testament to the day we met,” he said, taking her by the shoulders and gently twisting her back to face him, “you got a bit farther under my skin than that.” “I know. And I brushed you off like sand from the beach.” “I wasn’t completely innocent.” He shoved a lock of dampened hair off his forehead. “I accused you of being a spoiled princess, the type of wealthy string-puller I’d vowed never to get involved with again.” She laughed. “I understand why it must have looked that way, but I’m strictly lower middle class when I’m not living off my uncle’s summer graces.” He shrugged. “I’m sorry. As wrong as I was about all that, you were never just sand I could brush off at the door, Gina.” He took a deep breath. “I fell in love with you.” Her expression went blank for a painful stretch of moments, and he knew he’d gone too far again. He’d barely been reeling her back in from emotional abyss when he

dropped that bomb. Before he could reply, the shock of searing fire branded his lips. Her kiss startled him so much that he went rigid, but the burning intensity melted him a scant heartbeat later. He groaned in relief as she molded herself to his embrace. Disbelief and hope spiraled around each other as his heart soared, and as he circled his arms around her, he sent out a fervent wish to the gods. If this was nothing more than a dream world, like Gina had claimed, he wished that he would never wake from it. When she’d kissed the last bit of breath out him, David pulled back. “Does this mean you approve of my tanning booth remodel?” he asked. She shook her head. “No.” “You don’t?” “What it means is that I love you too, David Gilroy.” Clothing slipped away, and they proceeded to christen the new retreat right in the middle of the gazebo. No sun had ever burned brighter on the shores of the Amante del Mar than the rays shining on the pair of lovers lost forever to the magic of their secluded jungle hideaway. A magic of their own making.

Thank you for reading Their Secret Paradise! I hope you’ll consider leaving a review to let me know what you thought. I originally wrote this book intending it to be a stand alone story, but the idea of a resort island where supernatural beings live and influence the environment was too enticing to pass up. I wrote four more tales set at the Amante del Mar, each involving a different couple’s romance and all occurring more or less simultaneously to the other books. This includes Tropical Heat, which details what was going on when Gina encounters an upset Jessamine leaving Alex’s office. Also, more will be revealed about the mysterious gods Love and Lust, particularly in Jessamine’s tale as well as the final installment, Immortal Menage. I am a fan of crossover elements between books/series, so it might be of interest to note that much of the lore I created for this series about gods, travel across the veil, and the existence of certain other realms can be found in my Sons of Herne series as well as an upcoming fantasy, Bound to Her Master. This seems to be a world I just can’t leave behind, and I hope you fall in love with it as much as I have.

...Read on for more about the Immortal Paradise series:

Book 1: Suite Seduction

A hotel room mix-up at a sexy island resort offers two total strangers the passion of a lifetime—with the wrong partners. But are they really "wrong" for each other? Neither Julietta nor Collier realizes the shocking sex-with-a-stranger “mix up” was no accident—supernatural strings are being pulled behind the scenes by none other than the gods Love and Lust. In the immortals’ contest to prove whose powers are greater, how will Julietta and Collier come to terms with their budding feelings—and the relationship fallout from their “accidental” passion? Note: Features both characters having an accidental encounter while on vacation with other (cheating/wrong for them) partners. GET SUITE SEDUCTION

Book 2: Tropical Heat

Jessamine could care less about the paranormally-enhanced eroticism at the island hotel where she works until sexy P.I. Steve Detroit shows up with smoldering emerald eyes and awakens a need she has long tried to forget. Steve's only concern is his current case, at least until he encounters a tropical beauty with a fiery tongue and a passion he yearns to unlock. He soon discovers Jessamine also holds the key to his mission there, but when he inadvertently stumbles on the island’s most well-guarded secret, what he knows threatens to separate them permanently. GET TROPICAL HEAT

Book 3: Seduced by an Angel

When an angel glows, sparks will fly! When seven virgins are brought to the resort to be propositioned by a sexy angel, hotel employee Kazia is mortified to learn she is one of the potentials...and that her job depends on her cooperation. Archangel Andel hopes to create an immortal child before his fertility phase runs out. He has some thoughts about his ideal mate, but also secrets he is afraid to divulge. Kazia is drawn to Andel’s eroticism, but secrets of her own could keep him from claiming her. And behind the scenes, supernatural powers are conspiring to prevent Andel from perpetuating his blood line. How will they overcome their pasts— and heaven itself—in order to consummate their passion? GET SEDUCED BY AN ANGEL

Book 4: Immortal Menage

Lexie knows it's crazy to fly to the Bahamas in search of the mystery lover who has been heating up her dreams, but she can’t shake the nagging feeling that he exists. Grayel is a powerful god ready to claim the woman awaiting him in the earth realm, but a single touch could kill his mortal bride. Though his father is convinced his choice of mate will throw the entire realm into chaos, Grayel enlists demigods Love and Lust to aid in a sexual ritual that will transform Lexie into a goddess. Only then will he be able to share his passion for her outside of their dreams. Between plots in the other realm and the demigods' mounting attraction for Lexie, their union is threatened. Can she become a goddess in an explosive ménage if the demigod they need for it isn't certain he wants to let her go? What if a goddess's wish to claim Grayel for herself keeps him from their appointment with destiny? Note: This is not a typical menage relationship romance, but a one-time encounter of necessity. The story ends with a MF happily-ever-after. GET IMMORTAL MENAGE

About the Author Award-winning short story writer J. Rose Allister pens romantic fiction from her home in Southern California. When not writing or working as a (somewhat) mild-mannered hospital unit secretary, she enjoys reading, binging Netflix, and spending time with her family. From time to time, she is known to fadaddle with video games, Minecraft being a favorite. She has more books in her to-be-read pile than she can ever hope to find time for, a good place to be.

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