Praise for the novels of
CARLY PHILLIPS

“Fast-paced and fabulously fun, Carly Phillips entertains with witty dialogue and delightful characters.”

—New York Times bestselling author Rachel Gibson

“Popular Phillips’ first attempt at romantic suspense should be eagerly received by her loyal readership, and the denouement hints at a future romance for Hunter as well.”

—Booklist on Cross My Heart

“Who doesn’t love a reunion of long-lost loves? Add a diabolical villain as Carly Phillips does and you have everything you need for a beach read.”

—Columbus Dispatch on Cross My Heart

“Contemporary pizzazz with a good old-fashioned happily ever after.”

—Michelle Buonfiglio, Romance: B(u)y the Book, WNBC.com/romance

“Cross My Heart engages readers with a light and perky story that will absorb you from start to finish…. You’ll be smiling while you read the book, and grinning when you finish.”

—Lezlie Patterson, MCT News Service

“Phillips has penned a charming, fast-paced contemporary romp.”

—Booklist on Hot Item

“A great summer read that should not be missed.”

—BookReporter.com on Hot Item

“A sassy treat full of titillating twists sure to ring your (wedding) bell.”

—Playgirl on The Bachelor

“A titillating read…on a scale of one to five: a high five for fun, ease of reading and sex—actually I would’ve given it a six for sex if I could have.”

—Kelly Ripa on The Bachelor

Carly Phillips

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHOR

Secret Fantasy

Secret Fantasy

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

PROLOGUE

MERRILEE SCHAEFER-WESTON flipped through the freshly delivered paperwork on her desk. The file in her hand held detailed information on Juliette Stanton—her likes, dislikes, dress size and even shoe size. Everything and anything necessary to prepare and make a woman’s fantasy come true. Juliette Stanton, otherwise known as Chicago’s Runaway Bride, was an unwilling public figure thanks to the scandal surrounding her aborted wedding and her illustrious senator father’s reputation. Now she was a client of Fantasies, Inc.

Merrilee read the first question she posed to all clients, though she knew the words by heart. What is your fantasy?

The answer always proved to be elusive. In Juliette Stanton’s case: To experience the luxury of being catered to and doted upon by a very special man. To feel desirable, be the center of his universe and forget the hurt of a broken engagement.

Now this was what Fantasies, Inc. was all about. Merrilee’s four lush island resorts were founded for the express purpose of making people’s dreams, wishes and longings come true. And though she could give Juliette only what she sought, Merrilee always tried to go that one step further, by giving her guests a happier ending than she, herself, had had.

A knock sounded at the door, calling her attention. She rose, expecting her ten o’clock appointment. “Come in.”

The door opened and a tall, imposing-looking man entered the room. “Mr. Houston?” At his nod, she gestured for him to enter. “I’m Merrilee Schaefer-Weston. Welcome to Secret Fantasy. I hope you had a good flight?”

He settled himself in the chair in front of her desk. “Perfect. Call me Doug, please.” He treated her to a charming grin that no doubt worked wonders on any eligible, breathing younger woman.

She braced her hands on the desk and got to the point. “I assume you have a fantasy you want fulfilled?”

“Doesn’t everybody?”

“Thanks to this business I’ve discovered that to be true.”

Though he laughed, Merrilee recognized his reluctance to talk. “Would you prefer to tour the island before revealing your fantasy?”

He shook his head and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m a reporter for the Chicago Tribune.”

Interesting, Merrilee thought. And as she looked into his eyes, she realized his discomfort was real. “Go on, please.”

He cleared his throat. “I’m coming off a relationship that ended badly. I was involved with a woman for the last two years but I wasn’t ready to commit. I didn’t tell her that though.” He ran a hand through his black hair. “Still, I thought things were going well—but appearances can be deceiving.”

“And relationships can be messy and sometimes unpleasant.”

“You understand.”

She nodded. More than he knew. She glanced at the thin band of gold and rubies encircling the third finger on her right hand—a symbol of the love she’d had too briefly and lost as a result of the Vietnam War. Her life hadn’t gone as planned, but then whose did? Fate generally took over. “How does your recent past relate to your present desire?” she asked Doug.

“My ex and I shared business and pleasure. We had fun and because she was well-connected in certain social circles, I trusted her information.” He shook his head, his frustration obvious.

“I take it she wasn’t reliable?”

“She was reliable until she asked outright when I’d be ready to get married. I wasn’t. But she seemed to accept it well, or so I thought. But she decided I was using her and fed me information that, inexplicably, I could no longer confirm once my story ran.” His lips twisted in a wry grin. “The typical woman scorned.”

“And were you? Using her, I mean?”

He paused, giving her question thought. That he didn’t answer her with an outright “no” told Merrilee he valued truth as much as she did.

He let out a groan. “At the time I would have said no. But looking back, I suppose half the thrill of the relationship was the personal—as opposed to professional—‘in’ she gave me to certain social circles and people I wanted to expose.”

She appreciated his honesty and nodded in empathy. “And now you’re here. So tell me—what is your fantasy?”

He leaned forward in his seat. “To make up for what I’ve done. I need to be able to look at myself in the mirror.” He drew a deep breath. “I need to know I can put a woman before myself.”

“So you’re asking me to…”

“Pair me up with Juliette Stanton, Chicago’s Runaway Bride. I know she’s booked to come down here.”

Merrilee narrowed her gaze. “And you know this how?” Because if he’d gone to the trouble to hunt Juliette down and discover information other reporters hadn’t, his agenda would bring Merrilee as well as Juliette Stanton nothing but trouble.

“A tip from someone who felt I needed to know. Look, that story I just mentioned? It involved Juliette Stanton’s fiancé. And I have a hard time believing her run from the altar was coincidence. The gossip rags are holding her up for ridicule and the radio stations are running contests about why she ran. My gut tells me the woman’s hurting and I’m the cause. I want to help her get past it.”

“And what of your journalistic instincts? How do I know you aren’t looking to expose her story like the rest of the reporters out there? How do I know you won’t use the information should it fall into your lap?” Merrilee’s business and reputation, and Juliette’s well-being, hinged on his answer and his sincerity.

She held his gaze, making sure she didn’t miss anything, from a tic in his jaw to a flash of guilt in his eyes. But all she discovered was his ability to look her head-on.

He raised his shoulders in a shrug. “You don’t. Any man you fix her up with can conceivably find out the same information and use it against her whether he’s a reporter or not.”

Merrilee nodded. He had a point. Anyone could potentially uncover the reasons Juliette had run from the altar and expose them for money or personal gain—something Juliette, the senator’s daughter and runaway bride had to know going into her fantasy. She hadn’t put any restrictions or limitations on who or what kind of man she wanted to fulfill her needs. Merrilee inclined her head and waited for him to continue.

He didn’t disappoint her. “Look, I’m here, I’m spilling my guts and I’m giving you my word—I’m not looking to hurt her. That’s the best I can do.”

Merrilee nodded slowly. “Tell me something, Doug. Do you believe in happily ever after?” Merrilee needed to know more about Doug Houston’s character and intentions before she agreed to any match.

His eyebrows crinkled and his jaw clenched tight, then he let out a loud breath of air. “Yes, ma’am, I do. My parents are celebrating their fortieth anniversary this year.”

“That’s wonderful, but evasive. Not that I’m surprised, since you’re a reporter. But do you believe in happily ever after for you?”

“If I found the right woman, and if she could put up with me, then yes, I do.” His blue-eyed stare never wavered, then obviously satisfied he’d made his point, he stood. “I won’t take any more of your time but I’d appreciate it if you’d think about my request and get back to me.”

“I’ll do that.” Merrilee rose and shook Doug’s hand before letting him go. He shut the door behind him.

She clasped her hands in front of her, on top of Juliette Stanton’s file, and paused in thought. Merrilee had been in this business a long time and based her decisions on experience, instinct and faith. She could deny Doug Houston his request, a risk he’d taken laying all his cards on the table. Or she could let fate take over.

Juliette needed to heal. Doug needed to atone for his mistakes. If Merrilee gave in to his request, while making Juliette Stanton feel cherished and special, Doug could discover he was a human being beneath the reporter exterior. He could realize that people were more important than a career.

And love was the most important thing of all.

CHAPTER ONE

“FIX YOUR SKIRT. It’s tucked under at the hem.”

Juliette Stanton sighed and shook out the ruffled bottom of the denim miniskirt she’d borrowed from her freer, more eclectic sister, and adjusted the loose flowing cotton top hanging off one shoulder. “This is insanity at its finest.” She zipped her suitcase closed and turned back to face Gillian, her twin. “Tell me again why you spent your hard-earned savings so I could take a vacation.” Juliette loved her sister dearly but didn’t want her worrying or pampering her just because she was going through a difficult time.

Juliette slipped the luggage tag into the compartment on the side of the suitcase, muttering as she packed and not giving Gillian a chance to answer. “Much as I appreciate the gesture, I don’t want a vacation. I don’t need a vacation. I simply need to get back into my life.”

Gillian laughed. “Exactly right. You need to get a life, which is why you’re going on this trip.” She placed her hands on her hips, wrinkling the cream-colored pantsuit she’d borrowed from Juliette. The twins had traded outfits as part of an elaborate plan to elude the reporters and get Juliette to the airport unnoticed.

Though Juliette understood the need for the charade, she hated the deceit. She shot her sister a disgruntled look. “I’m going on this trip because you cared enough to arrange it for me,” she said, her voice softening.

“And you have to admit, getting away from the tabloids and rumor mill has to hold a certain appeal,” Gillian added.

Knowing her sister was right, Juliette reached over and squeezed her tightly.

“You know I love you, too,” her sister said.

Juliette knew. If not for her twin’s solid support, getting through these past few weeks would have been impossible. Since the day Juliette had bolted from the church, the reporters had been ruthless, staking out both Juliette’s house and Gillian’s apartment in hopes of getting the scoop on the Runaway Bride. But no one outside of Gillian or the groom knew why Juliette had called off the wedding.

And no one would. At least not until she figured out how to protect her father and let him retire from the senate, his reputation and pride intact. At which point the press could have at Stuart Barnes and his shady dealings.

“So have you heard from the louse?” Gillian grabbed a pillow and sat down.

Juliette shook her head, emotion clogging her throat. Although she’d never say she’d been in love with Stuart, what they’d shared had been comfortable and secure. Too comfortable, she acknowledged now.

With hindsight she could see the reasons for her engagement. They were twofold and simple. Juliette adored her mother and father and idolized their loving relationship. They were wonderful parents who’d managed to keep a family intact despite the fishbowl in which they lived. Juliette wanted a stable family and comfortable marriage like her parents had. She’d believed she could share those things with Stuart, a childhood friend she thought she knew well.

And then there was the other reason she’d gotten engaged—the one Juliette hated to admit, even to herself. While neither her mother nor her father had ever asked for her to sacrifice, she’d always taken the expected road. Perhaps because Gillian had taken on the part of the wild child, Juliette, the older sister by a matter of minutes, had always seen her role as that of the good girl. So when Stuart set his sights on Juliette, she’d fallen into the relationship without question. Because she’d recently been hurt by a man more interested in her father’s name and connections than in her, Stuart who’d always been a part of her life, seemed safe. And because her parents liked and trusted him, they’d been thrilled and could claim “they knew Juliette and Stuart belonged together all along.”

But they hadn’t belonged together and if Juliette had looked hard enough, she’d have seen the signs. Yet she’d never questioned their relationship, not even their lukewarm sex life, which deep down she’d blamed herself for. Certainly her previous painful affair hadn’t boosted her confidence. Perhaps she’d known all along that if she questioned her decision, she’d discover she’d repeated her mistake. Stuart wanted leverage in achieving her father’s soon-to-be-vacant senate seat. Nothing more. Especially not Juliette Stanton, the woman.

“Earth to Juliette.” Gillian snapped her fingers.

She shook her head. “Sorry. Too much thinking going on. No, I haven’t heard a word since our confrontation in the church. But what’s he going to say? ‘Thanks for keeping the press off my back so I can take your father’s place in November’?”

Gillian sniffed in disdain. “He could say, ‘I’m an ass.’ That would be a start.”

“I agree. And considering he all but threatened to drag Dad down with him, he’s trusting me to keep quiet about why I bolted.” Stuart was her father’s protégé. His choice to succeed him. If Stuart’s shady dealings came to light, Juliette’s father, his decisions and choices would all be suspect, tainting the good he’d accomplished during his tenure.

Gillian clenched her teeth. “He’s trusting your love for Dad.”

Juliette let out a harsh laugh. “He’s certainly not banking on my love for him.” Or what was left of it.

She’d thought they shared caring and consideration based on their years of friendship. Even after scandal had hit the papers, accusing Stuart’s business partner, Congressman Haywood, of laundering Mob money through Coffee Connections, their import-export business, she’d believed her fiancé’s denials. In this instance, she hadn’t shut her eyes to the truth, rather, like her father, she’d believed in Stuart’s integrity. And since Stuart hadn’t been labeled as an accessory and the story about Congressman Haywood had later been retracted, she’d trusted her instincts.

How wrong she’d been. Again. She’d caught Stuart red-handed, his business partner and the reputed Mob boss having a tête-à-tête in the church minutes before she and Stuart were to be married.

She faced her life and the lies at last, confronted him and walked out. And though her parents supported her decision and her need for privacy, she knew they too were waiting for an explanation.

Gillian let out a groan. “We both agree that this needs to be kept under wraps until you figure out a plan, but I don’t like the fact that Stuart’s let the press pin you with the Runaway Bride rap.” She picked up a videotape box containing the movie of the same name. “You might have similar hair—did I mention I love the curls?” She flicked at one of Juliette’s long spirals with her fingers. “And since this is the last time I have to sit for hours with the blow-dryer to copy your stick-straight hair to fake out those reporters, I’m eternally grateful.”

Juliette laughed. “Thanks.” She loved her new look, too.

She’d secretly always envied her sister’s ability to thumb her nose at convention and just be herself, cameras and press be damned. Juliette hoped her new loose-flowing perm, like her free-spirited sister’s, would change both her appearance and outlook for her upcoming trip. If there was ever a time to let loose, this vacation would have to be it.

“Did you pick up those things for me at the mall?” Juliette asked her twin. If her fiancé had been interested in planning a honeymoon instead of a political campaign and election, she’d have the wardrobe basics ready to go. But Stuart had insisted they couldn’t get away. Now she knew why.

“Got ’em. I put them in the empty suitcase while you were on the phone earlier. And you’d be so proud of how I finagled that trip without being followed.” Gillian grinned, obviously pleased with herself.

Juliette cringed. “I’m sure I don’t want to know. It seems everyone’s been making sacrifices to accommodate me these days.” She hated the high maintenance perception that was the result of this nightmare. First her stylist had agreed to do spiral curls and a haircut at her house, not wanting his salon inundated by the press, and now her sister was running around like an undercover spy—and loving every minute.

“They’re not sacrifices, they’re favors. And we love you, so we don’t mind. But I hate that you’re stuck in the house and practically branded, you know?” Gillian tapped her foot impatiently against the hardwood floor. “Damn, I wish we could leak this story.” She shook her head. “But we can’t.”

“Not yet. Dad’s established a long tradition of serving this country. He’s well liked and respected. He has a place in history he’s earned. No way I’ll let him go out tainted by scandal. He doesn’t deserve it.”

Gillian nodded. “I agree.”

For their father’s sake, the secret had to stay secret a little longer. Juliette drew a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

“Okay.” Gillian rose from her seat and grabbed for a bag.

“So let me get this plan straight. I drive your car dressed like you, while you sit in the passenger seat pretending to be me,” Juliette said.

“So far so good.”

“We drive past the reporters, to your apartment where the rest of the vultures are waiting, and pull into the secure underground garage.”

Gillian nodded. “Right. Where they have no access.” Her laugh bordered on giddy at the thought of outwitting the press. “They think you’re visiting me and to reinforce the impression, I, dressed as you, go up to the lobby and out to the convenience store on the corner before heading back inside. They won’t be looking for us to go anywhere while we’re presumably hanging out together.”

“Meanwhile I slip into the back seat of Dad’s car, driven by his chauffeur, cover myself with a blanket and end up at the airport.”

“Exactly. And if anyone happens to see you, they’ll think you’re me. No one’s going to bother following me once I have no access to you. Voilà! You’re home free and on your way.”

Juliette stretched her arms out wide. “Ready to begin a glorious week of fun, sun and solitude.”

Her sister’s gaze darted from hers. “You got the first two right,” she muttered.

Juliette narrowed her eyes. She’d grown up in the shadow of her daring, more adventurous twin and she knew Gillian better than she knew herself. The shifting eyeballs and muttering under her breath meant her sister was up to something. “What aren’t you telling me?” Juliette asked.

“Not a blessed thing.” Gillian glanced at her watch. “You don’t want to miss your flight. We need to get going.”

Juliette grabbed her suitcase. “Okay. And if I haven’t said it before because I was too busy complaining, I am touched you’d spend your savings on me—and I want to pay you back.” Although both girls had trust funds set up in their name from their grandmother’s will, neither lived off the interest or principal. Each chose to make their own way in the world, Juliette as a public relations consultant for a pharmaceutical company, Gillian as a teacher.

“It’s not a gift if you pay me,” her sister reminded her. “Consider this my broken wedding gift to you.”

Juliette squeezed her sister’s hand. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

Gillian grinned. “Yeah, you are.”

They made their way into the two-car garage attached to the old cottage Juliette rented, where Gillian had parked her car.

“Promise me something?” Gillian asked. “It’s private on the island and if we’ve done this right, no cameras are following you, no press is around to ask questions. Let loose and be yourself, okay?”

“You read my mind.” Juliette wasn’t surprised that the twin connection was at work again. She laughed, knowing she’d already decided to take advantage of this time to be free and experiment with who Juliette Stanton really was. She never should have fought Gillian’s attempt to get her to take a vacation. She settled herself into the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition and turned her wrist.

“So,” she said over the rumble of the car’s motor. “Let the adventure begin.”

ONE WEEK after his initial visit, Doug Houston stood in the luxurious open-air lobby of Secret Fantasy’s main building waiting for the object of his fantasy.

His fantasy.

Guilt swamped him over the thought of this whole damned trip and the charade he’d have to employ to get his story. Guilt wasn’t an emotion Doug was familiar with, especially when it came to getting the job done. But this job was too important to let something like unexpected feelings get in the way.

He was at this resort tracking down Juliette Stanton, Chicago’s Runaway Bride, so he could dig up dirt on her ex-fiancé. And therein lay the source of his guilt. He could console himself with the fact that he wasn’t out to dig up dirt on her and in that, at least, he hadn’t lied to Merrilee.

But Doug had a nagging feeling the reasons for Juliette’s run from the altar had everything to do with Doug’s recent troubles—and his journalist father had taught him never to ignore a burning gut. Treat it with antacids, maybe, but pay close attention. After the last fiasco, Doug damn well would.

Doug wasn’t green and knew to be on the lookout for an unreliable source. Problem was he’d never thought to distrust so close to home and when his latest story had come crashing down around him he’d been taken off guard. His adopted father, a journalist and a man respected by all, had trained him to be the best. Yet Doug’s fall from grace had been swift and as public as his damning headline about Congressman Haywood’s meeting with a reputed Mob boss and the laundering of money through a supposed legitimate coffee business.

The congressman was the business partner of Juliette Stanton’s fiancé, the man aspiring to her father’s senate seat. A man, Doug thought, who was just as corrupt as his partner. Doug still believed his story was true. He just didn’t have the proof he needed to back up his story or support his claim. Proof he was certain Juliette Stanton possessed.

Doug ran a hand through his collar-length, windblown hair—another part of this charade. No haircut, no shave until after his time on the island was through. After he was certain Senator Stanton’s daughter wouldn’t recognize him from the more clean-cut picture in his Tribune column.

A week on this tropical island wouldn’t be a hardship if his father wasn’t still in the hospital. Though he’d normally enjoy paradise, Doug had to follow up on this latest tip regarding Juliette and get the hell out. A tip he believed no one else had. And with some serious cash in the right hands he hoped to be the only one who knew Juliette had left town. The only one to spend an uninterrupted week alone with the Runaway Bride—once he got the final okay from Merrilee. She hadn’t thrown him off the island when he’d shown up in time to coincide with Juliette’s visit, but he knew he was on probation.

He’d paid good money to an old military pal of his father’s to dig hard and deep until he broke Merrilee’s security system and came up with the information Doug needed—Juliette Stanton’s fantasy. And in the process, he’d discovered the woman was hurting and he’d been forced to accept some of the blame.

No matter how he consoled himself with truth—that his fantasy would help Juliette Stanton forget her pain, and that he wasn’t out to hurt her—the fact remained, he was using another woman for information. Again.

Doug had no choice.

This story would reinstate him as the Tribune’s ace political reporter, a place he wanted desperately to be and not just because he’d worked damn hard for his professional reputation or because of an overblown ego. He could deal with the kick in the ass. He couldn’t handle disappointing his adoptive father, a man whom Doug owed his life. Doug was ten years old when his mother died and he’d been running from Social Services when Ted Houston had caught him trying to steal his wallet. Doug had figured he needed food in his stomach more than the guy with all the questions needed the cash in his pocket. Within the hour, he’d had Doug’s life story and he’d taken Doug into his home and his heart.

That same heart was bad now and the stress of Doug’s professional problems had taken a toll on the older man, and also on Doug’s mother—the woman who’d raised him like her own son. Which meant Doug had to uncover whatever the Runaway Bride knew about her ex-fiancé and his shady dealings. If he scooped the other papers he’d be back on top. Doug wasn’t ignorant and he knew clearing his name wouldn’t fix his father’s heart. But good news would give the older man an emotional boost, something the doctors said would help his mental state and drive for recovery. They were right. Just knowing Doug was out attempting to prove his claim had done wonders for his father’s attitude. Enough to give Doug the push he needed to remain on the island and give this pretense a shot. And besides, he owed it to the Tribune and his boss to get accurate proof and cement his story.

So now, he awaited his prey. He knew what Juliette looked like thanks to the black-and-white photos in all the papers and the colored ones he’d seen in his research. He wouldn’t be able to mistake the sleek, auburn hair, the chiseled profile or the elegant mannerisms ingrained in her by her public family. Until she’d bolted from the altar, Juliette had been perfection personified. And for Doug, a man intending to embark upon romance and discovery, she was both easy on the eyes as well as the libido.

Without warning, Merrilee, her assistant and a woman Doug had never seen before—but one he’d have no problem viewing again and again—walked into the lobby. Long spiral curls hung down her back in windblown disarray. Disheveled from the breeze and humidity, her hair had a tousled look, like that of a woman who’d just woken up after a night of hot sex. The moment when a woman was most soft, pliant and easily aroused. As aroused as he was now, just looking at her. Doug shifted his stance.

The white ruffle on her short denim miniskirt swayed provocatively in the humid breeze and the matching white, soft-looking cotton top dipped below one shoulder, revealing creamy white skin in stark contrast with fire-rich hair that screamed “touch me.” And he wanted to.

Then she walked closer and he caught the chiseled profile surrounded by the auburn hair. High cheekbones. Pouty lips. Fire-rich hair—auburn hair.

His Runaway Bride.

He’d been so certain he’d know her on sight. He hadn’t. And though he now realized she resembled her twin, Juliette was too distinctive to be identical to any other woman. It wasn’t just the glorious mane of hair that had changed but the sense of liberation he saw both in her face and her more expressive mannerisms. Her hands flew in the air as she spoke to Merrilee. Her eyes glittered with surprise and awe as she took in whatever the older woman was saying.

She no longer resembled the conservative fiancée of Stuart Barnes or the biddable daughter of Senator Stanton. This woman had spark and intensity. Excitement burned inside of her.

She’d undergone a transformation since her almost-wedding and the reasons why intrigued him as much as the story itself.

Which said a lot for a man in search of the proof that would clear his name.

He wondered what it said about the outcome of his fantasy.

SECRET FANTASY. As her sister’s students would say, “Well, duh.” Juliette should have known by the name of the resort this wasn’t just any island retreat. Better yet, she should have known when Gillian had elicited the promise that Juliette let loose that her twin was up to no good. And setting Juliette up for a week of decadence and sin—which was what being paired up with a sexy stranger would amount to—was definitely no good.

Or was it? Juliette gnawed on her lower lip, recognizing an opportunity to make up for all she’d missed by taking the safe and expected route all her life.

“Obviously you didn’t sign on for this. If you decide to leave, I’ll give you a full refund.” Merrilee Schaefer-Weston shook her head and laughed. “Or should I say I’ll give your sister a full refund? I must say this is a first for Fantasies, Inc.” She reached out and touched Juliette’s arm. “But, please, at least stay overnight as my guest. Perhaps the magic of the island will sway you.”

Juliette glanced at the older but still beautiful owner of the complex. “Magic?” she asked wryly.

Merrilee’s eyes danced with delight. “What else would you call a week away from prying eyes? A week solely for yourself, where no one will know what you say or do?”

“Except my fantasy man.” Juliette shivered at the prospect of herself and an unknown stranger together for an entire erotic vacation. No Stuart, no scandal…

No reporters.

“I’ll stay the week.” Just like that she made her decision.

If Merrilee was surprised, she didn’t show it. “Wonderful! You won’t regret it.”

Juliette hoped not. Because such spontaneity wasn’t in her nature. But where had her preplanned, good-girl behavior gotten her? Used and jilted, in a manner of speaking. No one would believe normally conservative Juliette Stanton, a woman who thought out any and every move beforehand, would act on impulse. But as Merrilee said and her sister had ensured, Juliette now had that chance.

“Give me a moment and I’ll see that you get checked in.” Merrilee left her standing in the center of the lobby, an eclectic combination of lush tropical plants and ornate marble floor and pillars. A true island retreat.

She inclined her head and glanced to her left. A tingle of awareness took hold as she realized she was being watched—studied intently by an intriguing man with dark glasses and even darker hair. A well-toned man in swim trunks and nothing more. She swallowed hard.

He lifted his glasses and met her gaze. Her body grew hot from the inside out in a feminine way that had nothing to do with the humidity surrounding her.

“You’re all set.” Merrilee’s voice surprised her. “We’ve got a secluded section of cottages that I’m sure you’ll find to your liking.”

Juliette regretfully withdrew her gaze from the stranger’s compelling one. “I’m certain I’ll love it and appreciate you keeping me away from prying eyes.” She glanced back again, but he was gone. Disappointment, keen and lingering, settled inside her.

“Not to worry. I have a hunch you’ll see him again,” Merrilee said lightly.

“See who?”

Juliette knew she was playing dumb and Merrilee laughed. “Let me show you to the cottage. Your bags will follow shortly.”

She accompanied the other woman out the open French doors and down a winding path, lined with green foliage and pink flowers Juliette couldn’t name but loved on sight. As she passed the pool and various restaurants, her gaze searched restlessly for him.

Well, she thought, her sister believed she needed to get a life. Apparently she was about to find one.

CHAPTER TWO

AFTER A SHORT NAP and quick unpacking, Juliette changed and headed for the beach, stopping on the way to take in the view. Straight ahead, she glimpsed white sand and endless miles of blue water that stretched to the horizon, meeting an azure sky accented by puffy, white clouds. To her left, she found lush floral gardens and, to her right, a huge free-form pool with a cascading waterfall in its center.

“A veritable Garden of Eden,” she murmured.

“Makes you think man was a fool for ever leaving.”

The deep, masculine voice rumbled in her ear and she knew instinctively who stood beside her. Her heartbeat tripled and excitement churned her insides. “If I remember correctly, man didn’t go by choice. He was banished.”

“For tasting the forbidden fruit.” At his words, a shiver of awareness took hold. She had to look.

And if he’d been sexy from afar, up close he was devastating. Without sunglasses, his eyes were a dynamic shade of blue, his features ruggedly handsome. Unlike her ex-fiancé’s fair, all-American looks, this man was a rogue—from his dark hair, tanned skin and razor stubble, down to his baggy yet still sexy swim trunks.

Her fantasy come to life. In her dreams, this was the kind of man who came to her in the dead of night. The one who’d sweep her off her feet and make her the center of his world. No other agenda in sight.

He extended his hand. “Doug. And you are?”

“Pleased to meet you,” she said with a hesitant smile. Being bold didn’t come easily. “I’m Juliette.” No last name attached, just as he hadn’t offered his.

She placed her hand in his warm palm. The flare of heat was instant and intense. From the flicker of awareness in his eyes, he felt it too.

Startled by the strength of the attraction, she tried to withdraw but he held on tight. “Nice to meet you, Juliette.”

His thumb brushed the pulse point on her wrist briefly before he let go. A rush of pleasure took hold, wrapping around her heart and warming her in ways she hadn’t experienced in too long, if ever.

But she liked what she was feeling. Each tingling sensation in her body, every shimmer of awareness in her brain, she enjoyed. After the pain and heartache of the last few weeks, she realized she desperately needed to feel sexy and desirable. She craved the lavish attention that would assure her she wasn’t second best. This man could provide that proof and be her much-needed diversion.

But one real and nagging fear remained. Although she’d escaped to this island, Juliette couldn’t be certain she’d left the press behind. The last thing she wanted was to bring more scandal down on her father now.

Senator’s Daughter’s Secret Fantasy would be even worse than the Runaway Bride headlines. Thanks to his stellar reputation, the senator had weathered that gossip well and denied he’d been publicly embarrassed or cared about anything more than his daughter’s well-being. But Juliette had no desire to shine more negative publicity on him during the last months of his tenure. The revelation about Stuart would be awful enough and she’d yet to figure out how to handle that.

But she was here, Juliette thought, and she deserved some private time. Looking into Doug’s eyes, she felt his sincerity. The attraction was real, his attention singular and genuine. Unless she wanted to lose this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, she had no choice but to put her fears aside and trust.

Unlike Stuart, Doug gazed at her as if she were special and, with everything inside her, Juliette wanted to grab onto what her sister had so generously given her. Juliette didn’t wonder how Gillian had known what she needed. As twins they shared a bond stronger than anything tangible or understood.

“Where are you off to?” Doug asked, startling her out of her private thoughts.

“I was thinking of hitting the beach.” She gestured towards the umbrellas dotting the sand below.

“And I was thinking of hitting on you.” His lips turned upward in a hesitant grin. “That is if you don’t mind the company.”

She met and held his gaze. When she’d decided to remain on Secret Fantasy, she’d decided to trust. She also had to let go of any inhibitions she normally felt. Upon unpacking, she’d discovered her sister had ransacked her suitcase and replaced the sensible items with impractical things and the conservative ones with sexy substitutes. Juliette was outwardly freed from constraint.

Her attitude had to follow. Easier said than done, and definitely easier to accomplish if she didn’t look down at the cleavage her skimpy bathing suit exposed.

She cleared her throat. “As a matter of fact, I’d love company.” She faltered, then reminded herself this man didn’t know her. She could be anyone she wanted to be, act in new and exciting ways.

She held out her hand. He slid his warmer, larger palm against hers, curling his fingers around her skin. His touch was hot and electric, and like two pieces of a puzzle, they fit together.

Juliette didn’t know if this was the man Merrilee had chosen for her fantasy, but after her lukewarm relationship with Stuart, she did know better than to ignore an attraction this strong and consuming. More than just sizzling chemistry differentiated him from her ex-fiancé. Where Stuart presented a civilized front, too civilized, she realized now, this man exuded a raw power and wilder persona. All of which tempted Juliette on a deeper, more sensual level.

She’d never felt like this before and probably never would again. Why wait for another man to approach her, one who couldn’t compete with Doug? Juliette didn’t want some man that Merrilee had chosen for her. She wanted this man and she intended to put in a specific request of her own. She shivered beneath his potent gaze. Whatever this week had in store, no doubt she was in for a treat.

Doug held Juliette’s hand as they walked toward the beach. Questions assailed him from all sides. Who was this woman who’d blindsided him on first sight? Research, photographs and even distant glimpses when she’d accompanied her fiancé to political functions hadn’t prepared him for reality. For the vibrant, seductive woman with just the right hint of naïveté to charm even a jaded reporter.

But he wasn’t yet free to begin his quest. He was still on probation in Merrilee’s eyes and knew she was concerned about his interest in her client. She’d given him twenty-four hours so she could observe and decide. He respected her reluctance and admired her business sense. If the situation were reversed, he might not be trusting himself right now.

In the meantime he had precious few hours to convince both women he was the only man for the job. Persuading them wouldn’t be a problem. Doug had had plenty of experience charming women to get what he needed.

“Where are you from?” Juliette asked.

The warmth and depth in her tone took him by surprise. He’d expected her voice to be more cultured and aloof, less gentle and kind. He suspected her personality would be soft to match. None of which boded well for Doug. Keeping an emotional distance would have been easier if she’d been like the icy politician’s wives and the women in his past he’d grown used to dealing with.

“I’m from Michigan,” he told her. Which he was, technically. Detroit born and raised until he was three months old. Then his father had split and his mother had moved them to Chicago.

But he couldn’t place himself in Chicago because she might become wary and back off. Nor could he give her details like a last name in case she recognized him from his articles in the Tribune. So he’d skirt the outer boundaries of truth as best he could. The more honest he was, less chance of slipping up. The less of that damned guilt he hoped to feel.

She nodded. “I’m a Chicago native myself.”

They strode down a set of wooden stairs and found themselves on soft white sand, facing the ocean. “This is unreal.” She gestured toward the expanse of blue in front of them.

He turned toward her, took in her revealing swimsuit, a navy two-piece number that exposed generous cleavage, a flat stomach and incredibly long legs. He would have swallowed but his mouth had grown dry. “Yes, it is.”

A warm blush burned her cheeks and Doug realized he’d made a mistake. Too forward, too soon.

He needed information, not sex. Well, hell. He shook his head. He was a man, wasn’t he? If he was honest with himself he needed sex, too. But no matter how tempting he found her, how appealing, sex wasn’t on his agenda. He was here to make her fantasy come true—to romance her and make her feel cherished while getting close enough for her to trust and confide in him about her ex-fiancé. Though her effect on him was powerful and strong, sex would be taking things between them too far, using her unfairly for selfish gains. He couldn’t go that route again.

The notion surprised him. The Doug Houston he knew would go as far as he had to in order to get a story. Why should Juliette make things any different?

Because she was different. He didn’t know why, but Juliette and her charming naïveté gave him a glimpse into himself and his less than stellar past. A past he’d be smart to learn from. Not only had he caused Erin immense pain by leading her on, but her vengeance was something he’d never forget. It was the reason he was on this damn island to begin with. But looking back, Doug couldn’t wholly blame Erin. She’d had no reason to suspect he didn’t want forever, if only because he’d never revealed himself. He’d slept with her because he’d been interested, stayed, he realized now, because she’d become convenient, both personally and professionally. But he hadn’t loved her.

He glanced at his companion. Juliette Stanton was too beautiful, too much. Doug had a hunch if he got involved that way, he’d be the one on the receiving end of the kick in the stomach this time. Something he had no intention of experiencing.

He helped Juliette set up a chair and laid a towel across the slatted plastic straps. “Can I get you a drink?”

She shook her head. “I think I’ll just take in the beauty surrounding me.”

His gaze dipped from her flushed cheeks to the cleavage pushed upward by the sexy bathing suit. White mounds of flesh rose enticingly above the navy material. “I’d love to do the same.” But he tamped down the urge to settle in beside her.

He’d made an impression. Enough for her first day. Hell, enough for his.

“Merrilee mentioned there’s a beach party tonight.”

At the sound of Juliette’s excited voice, he turned. “Please don’t tell me you’re entering the wet T-shirt contest.” His heart couldn’t stand the strain.

“I think that would have the men begging Merrilee for a refund.” A grin lifted the corners of her mouth but more than a hint of seriousness filled her gaze.

He shook his head and refrained from glancing downward, to where her full breasts nearly spilled over the triangular covering of her bathing suit. “I think you’re underestimating your impact on the opposite sex.”

“Oh, I think I’m pretty well aware of my impact on men.” Her eyelashes fluttered closed, blocking her feelings and locking them away where he couldn’t reach or see.

Doug eased himself onto the edge of the chair and sat beside her. “I’m not sure you do.” He’d figured her run from the altar was painful, but her complete shutdown now gave him the distinct impression she’d seen or heard something from Stuart Barnes that left her doubting her allure.

Something that would bring her to this island in quest of a fantasy. He remembered everything in her file, but one thing most of all. She wanted to feel desirable. And he wanted to make her feel that way. He wanted to erase the doubt and shadows from her eyes and, for the first time in his jaded life, his motives weren’t purely selfish.

He splayed one hand over her thigh, covering her flesh with his palm. “Why do I think you’re being influenced by someone else’s views?”

“Because you’ve been in the sun too long?” Wide, green eyes met his, genuine laughter in her voice.

Her playful side was back but he wasn’t through with his mission. “I haven’t been in the sun long enough to be delirious. On the other hand, I’ve been around you long enough to know how you affect me.” His thumb brushed against her soft skin.

She sucked in a deep breath. “It’s hot out here.”

“Yeah, it is.” And if he didn’t move his hand, they’d both be getting hotter.

“I, uh, think you made your point.” Her tongue darted out to coat her lips with moisture and he stifled a groan.

“I’m glad. Because I don’t know you well but I can assure you, you’d affect any normal, living breathing guy.”

She grinned. “That’s good to hear. And as for not knowing me, we can remedy that.” She shook her head, obviously embarrassed, causing long reddish-brown curls to cascade over one shoulder and settle above her breast.

“Are you inviting me?” he asked.

She blushed as she nodded. “I believe I am. To the beach party and to get to know me better.” She averted her gaze. “Unless I’m being presumptuous.”

That telling comment cemented his earlier hunch. Her provocative overtures didn’t come easily. He realized how badly her pride and confidence had been battered. Although she’d walked out on the groom, she’d just reinforced his gut feeling that her hand had been forced and she’d taken an emotional beating in the process.

Moving his hand from the warmth of her thigh, he lifted her hand and enclosed it in his. “Well, Juliette, I most certainly do want your company tonight and I gratefully accept your invitation.” He treated her to a slow, provocative grin meant to tease and tantalize. To draw her into the same vortex of interest and anticipation swirling inside him. To make her feel desired.

“Thank you.” Her pink tongue darted across her lower lip once more, an intriguing combination of sensuality and innocence. Her forced daring was admirable, her hesitancy charming.

“Should I pick you up or meet you there?”

She curled her knees upward. “I have some things to take care of first. I’ll meet you there, okay?”

He nodded. Walking away was more difficult than it should have been since he’d be seeing her again in a few hours. He’d never expected conservative Juliette Stanton to make the first move, especially after her initial withdrawal, but he couldn’t deny she’d put him a step closer to his goal.

She’d given him entry into her week here on Secret Fantasy. She’d given him the chance to get his story. To find out what Juliette knew about her ex-fiancé’s dirty business dealings. To discover whether Barnes was involved with the Mob and Haywood’s money laundering scheme. To uncover the information to prove his earlier story was fact, not fiction.

Juliette had provided the opportunity. The rest was up to him.

MERRILEE SAT at her desk, staring at the large bouquet of red roses surrounded by baby’s breath and greenery, specially delivered to her at Secret Fantasy. Apropos considering the card hadn’t been signed, its sender anonymous, secret.

A knock sounded lightly on the closed wooden door to her office. “Come in.”

The door swung open and Juliette Stanton walked inside, dressed as if she’d just come from the beach. “Hello. I’m sorry to disturb you but I was wondering if you had a minute—Oh, what lovely flowers!” She walked forward until she stood in front of the large floral bouquet.

“Thank you.” Merrilee smiled. “I thought so too, though I do wish I knew who sent them,” she murmured.

Juliette bent forward and inhaled the fragrant scent. “A secret admirer? How romantic!”

Merrilee inclined her head. “More like mysterious.”

“Was there a card?” Juliette asked, then immediately waved her hand in the air. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“Actually I’ve always felt once a person divulged their fantasies to me, a bond is created. I don’t mind answering. There was a note.” Merrilee lifted the standard-looking white card that had come attached to the flowers and read the inscription. “Roses, red as rubies. Because they’re your favorite.”

Juliette lowered herself into the armchair across from the desk. “And are they your favorite?”

Merrilee nodded. Because red rubies reminded her of Charlie, she thought, glancing down at her ring. But Charlie was long gone, as she knew too well. Getting sentimental and wistful over an intriguing gesture wouldn’t bring him back. And though she wondered who knew her secrets, now wasn’t the time to figure it out.

She pulled a tissue from the box on her desk and blotted beneath her eyes. “So what can I do for you?” she asked Juliette.

The younger woman’s eyes filled with concern. “Maybe this isn’t the best time. I can come back later.”

Merrilee waved away her misgiving. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” She’d learned to be, of necessity. “Go on, please.”

Juliette twisted her hands in her lap. “Well, I’m not familiar with how this fantasy stuff works but I have a request that may be…unorthodox.”

Merrilee smiled to put her guest at ease. “Trust me, there’s little I haven’t seen or heard as the person in charge of making fantasies come true.”

“Okay then.” Juliette drew a deep breath. “I want Doug—I’m sorry I don’t know his last name—but I want him as my fantasy man.”

Doug. Merrilee knew Juliette meant Doug Houston and realized he’d chosen anonymity as a cover. After Doug’s departure a week earlier, Merrilee had done some research of her own and was quite familiar with the behind-the-scenes story of this particular fantasy. She’d discovered, before agreeing to let him stay upon his second arrival, that he had told her the truth. One point in his favor but he was still on probation.

Merrilee understood now that if Juliette knew she’d chosen the man who’d printed the article on her ex-fiancé’s business partner, she’d bolt. Maybe. But maybe attraction and desire were stronger than fear.

“The man from the lobby earlier?” she asked, just to be certain.

Juliette nodded. “Yes. I know you said I’d be seeing more of him and I want to. I want to make sure he’s the man you’ve chosen for me. Unless he’s already taken?” Juliette’s eyes were wide as she waited for an answer.

“Obviously there’s a strong attraction between you two.”

Juliette blushed and averted her gaze. “I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this way before.” She laughed uncomfortably. “Kind of like it hits you between the eyes and you’re not certain what to do next.”

“Except not let him get away?” Merrilee asked, both amused and pleased Juliette was responding so strongly to Doug.

She grinned. “Exactly.”

The young woman had made Merrilee’s decision that much simpler. Bound by confidentiality and ethics, she wasn’t at liberty to reveal Doug Houston’s background or relation to Juliette’s recent past. That was for the two of them to work out, if and when the time came. But she’d studied Doug all afternoon and watched him around Juliette.

He might not be all he seemed, but Merrilee didn’t believe he was looking to hurt Juliette. “Well, I don’t see any problem. Whatever Doug’s fantasy, and you understand I can’t reveal that, it doesn’t involve another woman.”

Relief washed over Juliette. She hadn’t realized how nervous she’d been that she’d lose Doug before she ever had him. “So he’s…”

“Available.”

She laughed. “I was going to say mine.”

Merrilee leaned back in her seat. “Something tells me the man won’t know what hit him.”

Juliette grinned. “They say turnaround is fair play. As long as I’m giving in to the idea of this fantasy, I figured, why not try for the man who interests me most?”

“And I take it he’s fulfilling your fantasy needs?”

“Making me feel like no one or nothing else is more important than me?” She nodded. “He’s extremely good at that.” And so much more. His intensity was incredible. A woman could go her whole life without being the sole focus of a man’s attention. “I guess I owe my sister a thank-you for giving me this one week to enjoy and escape the problems back home.”

Merrilee nodded. “My hope is that my guests leave here with a whole new perspective on life.”

Juliette met Merrilee’s understanding gaze. “I’m hoping to leave here with a whole new perspective on a lot of things.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do, please stop by again.”

She nodded. “Thank you. For everything. And until you find out who your secret admirer is, I hope you enjoy the attention.”

Just as Juliette would enjoy Doug’s.

Merrilee smiled, then stood, bracing her arms on the desk. “So, enjoy your stay at the resort, and let your fantasy begin.”

“I certainly will.” Juliette nodded, letting herself out of the office.

Her hand still on the cool doorknob, she recalled her time with Doug. For a split second this afternoon, she’d taken one look at such a good-looking man and nearly laughed at herself for thinking he’d be interested in her. Then she’d felt his hot hand against her thigh and his strong words of reassurance. She’d realized it was Stuart speaking inside her, making her doubt herself, stifling the confident woman she ought to be.

She’d allowed Doug to bring her confidence back because he cared enough to try. And caring was something she’d obviously missed out on—along with sexual tension and amazing chemistry. She thought about the upcoming week. Doug was a man who’d distract her from the dilemma over how and when to reveal her ex-fiancé’s deceit. A man with whom she could cast away the safety net she’d hidden behind all her life and discover the sensual side of herself she’d believed was missing or nonexistent. A man she’d never see again after their time together.

And most important, a man who wasn’t using her for her social or political connections.

JULIETTE STEPPED out of her cottage and into the humid night air. The floral scent she’d come to associate with the island hung heavy but, after the stifling isolation of home, she welcomed the fresh air and fragrant smells. She followed the narrow path that led from the isolated set of cottages to the beach where tonight’s festivities awaited her. Where Doug awaited her, she hoped.

Torches lined the sandy shore and the orange glow of flames stood out in stark contrast to the inky night sky. She stepped down the rickety wooden stairs and paused. A bonfire burned on one section of the beach and a band playing Beach Boys type music rocked on a makeshift stage. People mingled, some in pairs, others in groups, a few individuals wandered alone. She wasn’t in the mood to socialize with complete strangers, except maybe one in particular. She narrowed her gaze and searched through the crowd.

“Looking for someone?” His voice sounded from behind her.

Her heartbeat immediately doubled. “Just taking in the sights.”

“If you say so.” He laughed.

The deep, masculine sound caused ripples of warmth to ooze through her veins.

“But I know I was looking for you.” His voice held a gentle heat, but it was his word choice that warmed her.

“You found me. I was just about to take a look around.”

“Sounds good to me.” He gestured with a sweep of his hand, indicating she should go first.

Two strides and she reached the sand where waiters, dressed in baggy shorts and colored T-shirts, stood ready to serve. Juliette continued forward, but Doug grabbed her hand, pulling her aside. “One thing before we check things out.”

She inclined her head. “What’s that?”

He braced his hands on her shoulders, pulling her gently toward him. Razor stubble covered his cheeks, thick and alluring, while his eyes, as blue as the ocean, stared into hers. “Thank you for inviting me to spend the night with you.”

“Now who’s being presumptuous?” she asked.

His eyes opened wide, as he apparently realized what he’d just said and Juliette laughed.

Laugh lines wrinkled around his eyes. “Something tells me not to touch that statement.”

“Not yet, but there’s time.” She laughed nervously, wanting to give him a green light but uncertain of how to proceed. Yet his intensity and obvious interest made her brave when she might have withdrawn.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And neither was she. The irony wasn’t lost on her though. She was a woman who’d learned from early childhood not to reveal too much about herself and to maintain proper decorum at all times lest the press print vile, ugly stories. Yet here she was at the most difficult crossroads of her life opening up enough to trade sexual innuendo with a gorgeous stranger—and not caring a bit.

Juliette drew a calming breath but she inhaled his masculine scent and realized little could still the emotions rampaging inside her, the increased beat of her heart and the building crescendo of excitement.

“Cocktail?” A waiter paused, a variety of multicolored drinks on his tray.

“Piña Colada? Tequila Sunrise?” Doug narrowed his gaze and assessed the assortment. “Or would you like me to go over to the bar and get something else?”

“You choose.”

He took two tall glasses off the tray, handing her a cream-colored drink, and taking one for himself. The waiter moved on, leaving them alone. “Piña Colada.”

She accepted the cool glass and tasted the frothy drink. “Mmm. It’s sweet,” she said, surprised, then licked at her flavored lips with her tongue.

He laughed. “I figured I’d start you off slow.”

“What gave me away?”

“Your huge, curious eyes for one thing. You eyed that tray like you’d never seen anything like it before.”

She ducked her head, embarrassed at her less than worldly ways. “I’m more familiar with wines and champagne.” Fun drinks were a novelty she’d never experienced.

“Something tells me you’ve lived a very sheltered life.”

She shrugged. “More like an ultraconservative one. But my twin—she’s experienced it all.” Juliette changed the subject to Gillian, finding it easier to talk about her sister than let her own lack of experience intrude on the fantasy.

“Well, after this week, you’ll be able to claim the same.”

A grin edged the corners of her mouth. “I’m happy to say we’re on the same wavelength. I’m here to experience it all.” Everything he had to offer. “So what else are you going to introduce me to?”

A tremor wracked Doug’s body. No way did she really want to know what new and enlightening experiences he’d like to share with her. Experiences that would never, could never, pass the bounds of fantasy. No sex, he reminded himself.

But damn, he needed something to distract him from the come-hither looks she covertly sent his way. Despite her provocative comeback, the tremor in her voice and her huge eyes gave her true nature away. As a senator’s daughter, she’d grown up in front of the camera and had learned how to maintain polish and poise. But here on the island, faced with real desire, she radiated a naïveté he hadn’t expected. He didn’t think she could possibly be aware of her hungry gaze or the effect it was having on him.

But he knew. And every time he took in the outfit she’d chosen, his mouth grew dry. The sarong-style skirt tied at one hip revealed an expanse of long, bare leg while the bikini-like top exposed her flat, untanned stomach and accentuated her full, rounded breasts. No different than the clothing worn by most women on the beach tonight, but most women weren’t Juliette. And none of them affected him in the same beguiling way.

The woman was more of a feast than the one prepared by Merrilee’s staff. “Let’s check out the bamboo huts.” He pointed to where makeshift food stations had been set up beneath the thatched roofs, smorgasbord style. “Nothing like choices. What do you want? Hamburgers, hot dogs or do you want to try the Floridian specialty, conch fish?”

Juliette inhaled the assorted smells, wrinkling her nose when the distinct odor of fish came through loud and clear. “I think I’ll stick with your basic burger.”

He laughed. “I guess conservative girls don’t appreciate the art of catching, scaling and gutting a fish.”

She sniffed as if offended, but the smile on her gloss-covered lips gave her away. “I didn’t say I was conservative, I said I lived a conservative life. Big difference. As for you, you’re so relaxed, I don’t see an ounce of conventionality in you or your upbringing. Am I right?”

“Quite right.” And perhaps if he revealed some of his own past, she’d be more comfortable revealing hers. “I was adopted and neither set of parents were what you’d call conservative.”

“I’d say not, especially if you inherited either of their style of dress.” She reached out and fingered the bottom of his long, Hawaiian-print shorts before raising her gaze to his clashing but equally tropical button-down, short-sleeve shirt.

“Offensive?” he asked.

“Different,” she said with a grin. She twirled one of her long curls around her finger.

He wondered if the strands were silky smooth to the touch and when he’d be able to find out. “Different how?”

“Where I come from, men wear power suits and ties or polo shirts and slacks.”

Bingo, he thought. Some insight. Small as it may be, he appreciated any inroad. “Well, if anyone in my family does the suit-and-tie thing I’ve never seen it.”

Ted Houston never wore a suit, not even when he’d won an Associated Press award. Good thing his father’s byline hadn’t been in politics. Doug, on the other hand, knew how to dress up with the best of them, but on the island he’d chosen to let his rebel side dominate. To throw Juliette off his proverbial scent. Disgusted with the reminder and unsure why, when his pursuit of a story had never bothered him before, Doug pushed the thought away—easy to do when surrounded by her beauty.

He smiled, then lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “My adoptive father is color-blind. I guess I inherited the gift.”

She laughed at his joke.

He shut his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to enjoy the light, carefree sound. Just being around her helped him relax for the first time, not just since the paper fiasco, but since his father’s heart attack. He hadn’t realized how much he needed the release until she’d provided it.

“Hey, don’t get me wrong, your style is a welcome change.”

At the sound of her soft voice, he opened his eyes.

“You’re a welcome change,” she said.

And damned if he didn’t believe her.

She paused for another sip of her drink. The waiter had forgotten the straws or Doug hadn’t seen them on the tray. Either way, he didn’t care. It gave him a chance to touch her. He reached out and brushed the foam off her upper lip with the pad of his thumb.

She stilled, those wide, green eyes meeting his, shock evident in her gaze. He recognized the emotion since he felt it, too. His mind told him to use the surprising electric connection that sizzled between them to his advantage since, except for her one vague reference, she’d adeptly avoided any personal replies to his light queries. She had even managed to turn the tables and question him instead. But his heart pounded loud in his chest, urging him merely to enjoy.

He drew back and as she watched, he licked the sweet-tasting froth off his finger. She exhaled, a slow, breathy sound that resembled a sigh of pleasure and his body tensed in response.

Just then, dinner was announced over the sound system, directing people to the buffet and jarring him back to his senses. He’d missed a perfect opportunity to push for information under the guise of getting to know her better. Not only didn’t he understand why, but he was completely off balance. “Saved by the bell,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. How about we get something to eat?”

She nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

A good one because he needed distance. And how much trouble could he get into over the course of one meal?

Half an hour later he had his answer. Too much damn trouble. With food loaded on their plates, they walked by the long picnic tables set up for guests and, at Juliette’s suggestion, headed farther down the beach. She picked a secluded area and requested he pull two lounge chairs together for their private picnic.

Doug was coming to realize he couldn’t deny her anything when she got that excited gleam in her eye. In one short outing, he’d learned to recognize the sparkle that told him she was experiencing something for the first time—from a simple drink to a picnic dinner. He’d grown up quickly, first on the street experiencing deprivation, then at Ted Houston’s side, learning the journalistic ropes from a pro. He’d discovered how to charm the devil himself for information or to gain access to private files or events. From the streets to formal banquets and affairs, Doug had seen it all.

But he’d never lived Juliette’s existence, never realized living a sheltered life could cause a person to miss out on so much. To his surprise, he was grateful he was giving her good memories to replace the more recent painful ones. Ones he’d inadvertently caused. He just wished watching her wasn’t so difficult.

Arousingly difficult. She licked her fingers delicately before turning to the napkin in her lap and wiping her hands. She set the napkin aside and yawned, then said, “It’s not the company, I swear.”

“It’s the travel. I’m surprised you’ve made it this late. Did you want to watch the pathetic rendition of the Beach Boys or call it a night?” He didn’t know which he hoped she’d choose but a night to rethink his strategy wouldn’t be a bad thing.

She sighed. “Much as I hate to say this, I think turning in would be best.”

Disappointment warred with relief. “I understand.”

After they collected and deposited their paper goods and garbage, she turned toward him. “I really enjoyed tonight.”

“Me too. But until I walk you to your door, it’s not over.” He wasn’t ready to let her go yet and hoping for a glimmer of information wasn’t the only reason.

“You don’t need to do that. But I’d like it if you would.”

And he’d like to take a jump into the cool ocean water. Walking her to her secluded cottage door, he felt more like a kid on his first date than an experienced reporter out to get a story. But Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither would he get what he needed tonight.

“Well, we’re here.” She turned around, her back against the door, palms braced behind her.

From the gleam in her eye he wouldn’t get a fast escape and a quick good-night. From his body’s response to this woman, he didn’t want one.

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