They were lost.

“Great, now I’m cold and my clothes are soaked,” Lena complained.

Colt ground his hips against her, making a ribbon of need wind slowly through her body.

“I’m sure we can find a way to keep you warm.”

“Oh yeah.” She arched her back and pressed her breasts against the expanse of his chest.

She wanted to touch him, taste him… And here was as good a place as any.

Reaching between them, she wiggled her hand down under the edge of his waistband.

“I was talking about building a fire,” Colt said, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Jerk,” she grumbled, suppressing her own smile.

She took a step away, but Colt pulled her back into his arms, stealing her breath with a kiss.

Maybe being lost wasn’t so bad after all…

Dear Reader,

I began brainstorming my ISLAND NIGHTS series in the middle of one of the coldest winters we’ve had in a long time. Let me tell you, slipping away to a romantic tropical island sure seemed like a wonderful idea! Writing these books allowed me that opportunity in my mind if not in real life.

I started wondering what kind of people might visit a remote tropical resort. Honeymooners were an obvious choice, especially as I started fleshing out Escape’s unique history and business model. We’re talking about Blaze® here, so of course they cater to adults looking for a bit of fantasy. But what if the fantasy fell apart, the wedding didn’t happen and the bride ended up on the island with her very hot—and very male—best friend

Add a local legend about finding your heart’s desire—whether it’s what you were looking for or not—and you’ve got the recipe for some sexy, sultry beachside fun.

I had such a good time writing Lena and Colt’s story and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! I’d love to hear what you think. You can contact me at Kira@KiraSinclair.com or visit me at www.KiraSinclair.com.

Best wishes,

Kira

About the Author

When not working as an office manager for a project management firm or juggling plot lines, KIRA SINCLAIR spends her time on a small farm in north Alabama with her wonderful husband, two amazing daughters and a menagerie of animals. It’s amazing to see how this self-proclaimed city girl has (or has not, depending on who you ask) adapted to country life. Kira enjoys hearing from her readers at www.KiraSinclair.com. Or stop by www.writingplayground.blogspot.com and join in the fight to stop the acquisition of an alpaca.

Bring It On

Kira Sinclair

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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I want to dedicate this book to my wonderful

editor, Laura Barth. Not only is she a joy to work

with, but her strengths are a perfect balance for

my weaknesses. She helps me write the best book

possible. Laura, here’s definite proof that together

we can figure anything out. Thank you!

1

“IF ANY MAN CAN SHOW just cause why this man and this woman should not be joined in holy matrimony, let him speak now or forever hold his peace.”

Lena Fuller’s stomach rolled as if she’d just gorged herself on junk food and then gotten on the worst roller coaster. Was it her imagination, or was every person inside the church holding their breath?

No, wait, that was just her.

But she wasn’t imagining that everyone was staring at her. Although she supposed wearing a wedding dress made that a given.

She looked across at the man she was marrying. Wyn Rand. Flawless features. Aristocratic D.C. family. Challenging job. Limitless future.

Wyn was the perfect man for her. Nothing like the men her mother had paraded through her childhood. He respected her and appreciated her intelligence. He didn’t treat her like a piece of meat, assuming the only thing she was good for was warming his bed.

All of her friends were jealous that she’d snagged such a wonderful man. So why were the butterflies threatening to break through her stomach in a replay of Alien?

Her eyes drifted from Wyn with his pearly-white smile and confident gaze to the line of men standing diagonally behind him. Her gaze skipped purposely to Colt Douglas, one of her best friends.

He was three back in line, put there because she’d asked Wyn to include him in the wedding party. Wyn had never liked Colt, although Lena still didn’t understand why. But Wyn had reluctantly acquiesced because it had been so important to her. She wanted—needed—Colt standing beside her on this important day.

She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, maybe a smile of encouragement or a calm certainty she couldn’t seem to find inside herself. It definitely wasn’t the intense, laser-sharp stare Colt leveled at her. Nor the beginnings of a frown as the space between his brows wrinkled. Lena felt an answering pucker pull at her face.

No, wait, she should be smiling.

“I object.” The small voice behind her quivered, but everyone heard the words anyway.

And suddenly Lena could breathe again.

Wyn’s shocked gaze morphed into a glare that he directed somewhere over her shoulder. Something in the back of the church clattered loudly against the stone floor. The preacher sputtered, “Excuse me? I—I’ve never actually had anyone object.”

No, probably not.

The preacher looked at her with a befuddled expression, as if she could tell him what to do next. As if this happened to her on a regular basis.

“I can’t let you do this, Lena. I’m in love with Wyn. We’ve been having an affair for the last two months.” Mitzi, her youngest aunt’s oldest daughter, raced from the line of bridesmaids to stand between her and Wyn.

Lena focused in on her cousin’s face. Peaches-and-cream beautiful, her eyes sparkling with the innocence of youth. An innocence she had no doubt this girl was about to lose. Wyn’s mother was not going to be happy, and the woman was connected enough to make Mitzi’s life hell. Lena tried to dredge up some sympathy for her but couldn’t.

She watched mutely as Wyn attempted to pull Mitzi out from between them, to make her disappear, as if he could make the problem go away.

He hadn’t even tried to deny it. And deep down, Lena wasn’t surprised. Wyn didn’t ask forgiveness of anyone … especially his future wife. Former future wife.

Mitzi leaned forward, straining against Wyn’s hold. “I’m so sorry.”

Yeah, right.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen, Lena, honest. I ran into him at a club one weekend. We had a few drinks. One thing led to another.”

Despite the shock and pressure suffusing her chest, Lena’s own temper began to break through. How could this all be happening? On her wedding day.

“If you tell me he slipped and his dick fell into your vagina I’m going to strangle you.”

A nervous titter went up from the congregation beside her. Lena shot the entire mob a glare. Several of them stirred, the century-old wooden pews creaking beneath the weight of their guilty consciences.

“Mitzi, shut up.” The first words Wyn bothered to speak and they were seriously less than helpful.

Around Lena chaos finally erupted. A cacophony of noise reached out to grab her. Pain burst through her chest when she looked into Wyn’s eyes and realized that it was true. Guests talked to, at and above each other, making it difficult to pick out single voices from the crowd.

Her mother’s high-pitched squeal, “I always said your daughter was a whore,” joined her aunt’s “At least she isn’t a stuck-up snob who thinks she’s better than everyone else.”

Lena cringed at her aunt’s words. She was not a snob. She just preferred not to associate with her mother’s family. Frankly, they were all cut from the same self-absorbed, overly emotional cloth and she just didn’t have the energy to deal with them. Putting up with her mother was draining enough.

Two of her cousins, Barley and Matthew, grabbed Mitzi’s arms and tried to pull her away from the mass of people pouring up onto the steps of the sanctuary. Lena’s best friends had rounded on the poor girl, their faces livid as they yelled at her for ruining Lena’s wedding. And through it all, Wyn wouldn’t let Mitzi go.

Lena stood in the center of it all, the motion and noise rushing past her, completely ignored.

Lena stared at her cousin. Nineteen. The girl was at least eight years younger than Wyn. And in maturity and experience, he was light-years ahead.

A red haze filtered across Lena’s vision. She closed the few steps that had separated her from Wyn and hauled back and slapped him. “Bastard.”

Wyn looked stunned. Unfortunately, the livid red handprint across his cheek did nothing to dampen his perfect New England aristocratic good looks. For that, she hauled off and slapped him again.

Spinning on her heel, Lena tried to walk away, but the crowd of people pressed in around her. Her mother. Her cousin. Her best friends. Wyn. Wyn’s mother. The people who moments ago had ignored her in favor of yelling at each other suddenly wouldn’t let her leave.

Their fingers plucked at her. Someone stepped on her train. The dress had cost her six months’ salary but had been worth every penny. She’d dreamed of what she would wear on this day ever since she was six, and the reality had been perfect. Had being the operative word.

The nasty sound of ripping satin and tulle made her cringe and the ping of crystal beads as they hit the marble floor made her want to scream. Her body jerked, straining against the phantom hold. And then she was blessedly free.

People, flower petals and sequins trailed in her wake as she raced down the aisle. She stumbled on the torn train, stopping long enough to scoop up the material and throw it over her elbow.

God, she must look a sight.

Her veil clouded around her face, obscuring her vision and irritating the hell out of her. Lena reached up, yanked the thing off and threw it at someone as she flew by.

“Don’t do anything rash, Lena. I’m sure you can work this out, dear,” Diane, Wyn’s mother, yelled behind her. The woman must really be panicked if she was willing to make that kind of public declaration. Diane was the perfect D.C. wife who spent her days organizing charitable events but didn’t have an identity outside of her family and husband. Her face was frozen in place by too much Botox. Her hair was pulled back so tightly Lena wondered how the woman didn’t have a permanent headache. And even on this day, her trademark single strand of pearls draped across the conservative neckline of her plum-colored dress.

That was what she’d almost signed up for. Relief washed over her.

But it was short-lived. Everywhere she looked there were people. Family, strangers, friends, enemies. All crying, yelling and full of pity.

She couldn’t take it. It was all too much.

Pressing her hands over her ears, Lena looked for a way out.

She was halfway across the church when a calm in the center of the storm appeared. Colt stood beside the heavy wooden doors at the back of the church. His long and languid body was propped against the elegantly carved frame, both hands shoved into the pockets of his tux pants, one ankle crossed over the other as if he was just hanging out there, waiting.

He wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t freaking out.

She met his eyes, beautiful calm green eyes, so familiar and friendly. No pity or sorrow or anger or anything else, just Colt.

Relief pulsed beneath her skin, along with the urgent need to get out.

Her heels clicked against hard stone as she hurried toward Colt. Skidding to a halt, she looked into his eyes and said breathlessly, “Take me home.”

“GET ME OUT OF THIS THING,” she growled the minute her apartment door closed.

Not waiting for Colt to do as she’d asked, Lena craned her arms behind her, scrabbling at the tiny row of buttons running down the length of her spine. She struggled, twisting, trying in vain to reach them all and rid herself of the mountain of satin she’d crushed into the tiny passenger seat of his Porsche. That car definitely had not been made to hold two people and a wedding gown.

Brushing her fingers out of the way, Colt said, “Let me,” and finished the job for her.

The slight tremor in her hands did not go unnoticed and Colt fought the urge—once again—to drive back to the church and beat the shit out of that sorry excuse for a man she’d almost married. The only thing that stopped him was knowing Lena wouldn’t want him to make a scene. She hated drama. Never wanted to be the center of attention. While it would definitely make him feel better, it wouldn’t do her any good.

He just hated to see her upset.

The bottom button had barely popped free before she was pushing the voluminous mess off her shoulders and down her body. Pulling at the slip beneath, she left the lump of satin behind. Miraculously, it retained its shape, a sad white bell of material with a hole where her body should have been.

She blew out a sigh of relief, pushing the swell of her breasts against the edge of the full-length bra that skimmed over her hips and waist. Colt tried to ignore the way his mouth went dry, telling himself it was a normal male reaction to any woman undressing in front of him.

This was Lena. They’d been friends since they were kids. And if he’d occasionally woken from erotic dreams about her in the past, he told himself that it was simply the pitfall of having a female friend. Men thought about sex all the time, right? It was inevitable that his brain would put two and two together eventually.

Lena disappeared down the hallway. Deciding not to follow, Colt went into the kitchen and filled a wineglass from the open bottle he found in the fridge. It was the same bottle that had been there when he’d visited three months ago on his way to film a piece in Spain. He remembered because he’d come from Alaska where the frigid temperatures had played havoc with the film equipment. He’d brought the bottle with him, picking it up in the airport. He could no longer recall which airport it had been, they all started to look the same after a while.

Colt shook his head, hoping the wine hadn’t spoiled. Yelling down the hall, he asked, “What now, Lee?”

She stuck her head around the corner, her bare shoulders just visible and her lips twisting into a crooked line. “I have no idea,” she said before disappearing again.

Taking a sip of the chilled wine, he stopped in the open doorway of the kitchen, leaning against the jamb. The place was definitely bare. Lena had spent a lot of time and energy filling her apartment with things that mattered. It had been comfortable, warm and welcoming. This place had always been her pride and joy.

Boxes were stacked in the corner. He could see the neat labeling from here and knew she probably had a master list tucked into a binder cataloguing which box held what. The whole thing was depressing.

Lena returned wearing an oversize T-shirt and a pair of black leggings. Her hair, previously arranged into a twist that had probably taken hours, was now piled haphazardly on top of her head, tufts sticking out in every direction. In that moment she reminded him so much of the young girl he’d met so many years ago.

They’d both been ten the summer Lena and her mother moved into the estate next door. They’d become fast friends, inseparable. She’d spent more time at his house than hers, blending seamlessly into his family. His parents had treated her like one of their own.

When she’d left nine months later he’d been so upset. His parents had given Lena a laptop so they could keep in touch. And they had, building a friendship on emails, phone calls and brief visits here and there that had lasted through distance and time.

He hadn’t seen that carefree girl in a very long time. He wasn’t sure when she’d disappeared—probably when her mother was dragging her all over the world. Or maybe after his parents’ fatal accident. His life had been falling apart and she’d been holding together the pieces for him. Or possibly while he was rushing from one corner of the globe to another, working his butt off trying to prove his talents as a photographer and documentarian were more important than his bank account and family name.

Sure, he could have bought a production company and hired himself to direct any film he wanted, but that wouldn’t prove he had the skills to make it on his own.

Staring at Lena, he wondered what else he’d missed in the months and years they’d been separated. And whether he could have prevented the debacle at the church if he’d been here more than a few days at a time.

Closing the space between them, he held out the wine he’d poured for her. With a sad smile, she took a long swallow. Cradling the glass against her body, her mouth twisted over the rim. “I think it’s going to take more than some wine to fix this one.”

Unfortunately she was right, and her family would likely descend at any moment. “This probably isn’t the best place to hide. Maybe you should get away for a few days?” he suggested. “Let things die down a bit before you have to deal with everything.”

“I can’t afford to go anywhere. I spent all my savings on the dress.” She gestured halfheartedly to the pile of satin still sitting behind them in the entranceway.

“What about the honeymoon?”

“Wyn paid for it,” she said slowly, drawing out the words as she apparently turned over the idea. “But I’ve got all of the travel documents.”

For the first time since he’d walked into the church, Colt felt a genuine smile tug at his lips. “Even better. Where was he going to take you?”

A spark flickered in her eyes for just a moment as she told him, “To a secluded Caribbean resort off the coast of St. Lucia. It’s supposed to be upscale, adults only. I was really looking forward to it.”

“Well then, I think it’s the least the bastard owes you.”

“No, I can’t. Besides, I wouldn’t want to go by myself. That would just be … depressing.”

“So take a friend.”

Lena’s head cocked to the side as she studied him for several moments. “What are you doing for the next week?”

“No, I didn’t mean me,” he sputtered.

“Why not? I haven’t seen you in forever. The last time you were in town hardly counts. You were so jet-lagged you spent half your time sleeping.”

Colt could see the hope in Lena’s eyes. He hated to disappoint her. “I was hoping to be in Peru to film a documentary about an exciting archaeological find, but the producer chose another director.”

“I’m so sorry, Colt. I know you really wanted to land that one. Why didn’t you tell me when you found out?”

“You were all wrapped up in the wedding plans. Besides, it isn’t important. Something else will come along. It always does.”

He tried to hide his disappointment, but probably failed miserably. The job was perfect, everything he’d been working and waiting for. A great opportunity, an interesting subject and a challenging location.

Lena didn’t seem to pick up on his lie, though; she was understandably preoccupied with her own disappointment.

“So there’s no reason you can’t go with me. Come on. Fruity drinks and lounge chairs on the beach. Sleeping late, five-star meals. You know you want to.”

He opened his mouth to say no again, but as her eyes went misty with unshed tears, Colt realized it was a losing battle. When she said, “Please, Colt, I need you,” it was the final nail in his coffin.

“Fine.” He sighed, and tried to ignore the tremble of her bottom lip when she wrapped her arms around his body and squeezed tight.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his skin, her nose buried in the crook of his neck.

Her breath tickled and something thick tightened in the back of his throat. He ignored it.

He held her, knowing what she needed right now more than anything was a friend. But the moment was interrupted when a loud knock sounded on the door.

“Lena, let me in.” A man’s voice boomed through the closed door.

Colt didn’t have to ask who was on the other side. The stiffening of Lena’s muscles beneath the circle of his arms said it all.

Jerking away from him, she faced the door, but didn’t actually move to open it. “Go away, Wyn. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Fine, but your mother gave me your suitcase.”

Lena cursed under her breath. “Of course she did. Remind me to thank her.” She rolled her eyes and grimaced. “Right after I kill her.”

Shaking her head, Lena headed for the door. Colt reached out to stop her, but she was too fast. “You don’t have to let him in.”

“I do if I want any clothes to wear on the island. I wonder how long it took my mother to realize she could hand Wyn the perfect excuse to make me see him.”

Not long, Colt guessed. The woman was flighty, but she was also calculating. From everything Lena had told him about her childhood—which wasn’t much—he’d gathered her mother had spent her entire life moving from man to man—and dragging Lena behind her. Her only valuable skills seemed to be charming and wheedling her way into whatever she wanted.

The minute Lena opened the door, Wyn pushed past her. However, he slammed to a halt the minute he saw Colt. With a dark scowl on his face, he said, “What’s he doing here?”

Colt knew Wyn had never liked him, but then the feeling had been mutual, so he didn’t exactly hold that against him. What he did have a problem with was the way he’d treated Lena.

She deserved better.

“Give me one good reason. That’s all I need,” Colt promised in a calm and even voice, taking a menacing step towards him.

Lena inserted herself in the middle, splitting a hard stare between them. Tension simmered as they both glared across the top of Lena’s head.

“Stop it, both of you.”

Wyn took a step forward, but she planted her hand hard into the center of his chest, stopping him in his tracks. The minute her palm collided with him, she recoiled. A knowing smirk touched Colt’s lips and he enjoyed the way Wyn’s mouth tightened into a hard line.

“Thanks for returning my suitcase. You can go now.”

Wyn tried to reach for her, but she scooted backward, straight into Colt. For a minute she jerked the other way, but as soon as her mind caught up and she realized he wasn’t a threat, she leaned gratefully against the solid line of his body.

“Lena, we need to talk,” Wyn said, grinding the words out between clenched teeth.

“I have nothing to say.”

“Okay, then just listen.”

“I don’t want to hear it. All I want is for you to leave.”

“Look, we still have the honeymoon. Why don’t we go away? See if we can fix this. I mean, see if I can fix this.”

Lena shook her head, sadness clouding her eyes. Colt wanted to rush to her defense, to stand between them both and defend her, but he realized she didn’t need his help. She was perfectly capable of handling this on her own. She’d always been a strong woman—it was something he admired about her.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I am, however, taking the trip that you promised me. I think it’s the least that you owe me. A chance to get away, sort through some things. Maybe after I get back I’ll be ready to talk to you, but don’t think for a second that means I’ll ever take you back. I experienced enough dysfunctional, toxic relationships with my mother. I have no intention of falling into one myself.”

A hard glint entered Wyn’s eyes. He wasn’t happy, but then there wasn’t much he could do about it. What did it say about Colt that he delighted in seeing the other man thwarted?

“What if I just show up?”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Besides, I’m not going alone. Colt is coming with me.”

Wyn’s body bowed tight with anger. Colt had no doubt that it was barely in check. Taking a deliberate step forward, Colt drew Wyn’s glittering gaze.

“I always knew there was something more between you two.”

Lena let out an exasperated sound, as if this was ground they’d covered more than once and she was sick of traveling it. “How many times do I have to tell you? There’s nothing between us. Hell, I barely see him. Don’t paint me with your brush just because you’re feeling guilty at being caught.”

Wyn’s teeth ground together. Colt could hear them from where he stood several feet away. If the man had come here to beg forgiveness, he certainly had an ass-backward way of doing it. But Colt had no intention of pointing that out.

“Fine. Enjoy your trip.” Looking Colt square in the eyes, Wyn said, “I hope you get sunburned.”

Colt delighted in being able to smile at him and promise, “Don’t worry about me. I never burn. And I swear I’ll keep Lena good and covered up. Or even better, out of the sun altogether. I wonder what else there is to do on a romantic tropical island besides swim?”

2

THE LAST TWENTY-FOUR HOURS had been hell. Sure, Colt had upgraded them both to first class but a delayed flight, two hours sitting on the tarmac, a missed connection and nine hours in the Atlanta airport were not how she’d envisioned the trip beginning. Of course, nothing about the past day had happened as planned.

But they were here now and that was what mattered.

The island was about forty-five minutes by ferry from St. Lucia. The ride over had been amazing—bright blue sky, therapeutic sunshine and a brisk tropical breeze that had helped to clear the jetlag cobwebs from her brain.

When Wyn had told her he’d booked them at Escape, Lena had checked the place out online. The resort, the only thing on Île du Coeur, had a volatile and romantic history. The small island had originally been a cocoa plantation but had been turned into a boutique resort about fifty years ago. It had been renovated, added onto, changed hands multiple times and let fall into disrepair until the current owner had purchased it almost three years ago. The place was now billed as an adult-only tropical retreat. Small and intimate, lush and seductive, perfect for a honeymoon.

Apparently, there was a local legend to the name of the place. Île du Coeur literally translated meant Heart Island. Supposedly, everyone who visited found their heart’s desire—whether it was what they were looking for or not. Lena had her doubts, but she had to admit that it was a great marketing angle.

Lena had been surprised that Wyn had sprung for the most expensive bungalow at an already pricey resort. The man came from money, but he was very careful about how he spent it. His frugal nature was one of the things that had attracted her to Wyn in the first place. Considering where she’d come from, that quality had been extremely important to Lena.

Her mother had been … erratic. Hell, she was still unreliable. Using her ethereal beauty and fragility, she’d spent her life conning a succession of men into taking care of her. But the arrangement was never permanent. It had been a good year if Lena didn’t have to change schools more than once. And that was assuming her mother actually enrolled her. Sure, she’d lived in Europe, Brazil, D.C., New York and possibly every state in between, and she’d hated every last second of it. Except for those few months with Colt and his family. That was the only time she’d ever felt that she belonged.

All she’d ever wanted was to find someplace permanent, to grow some roots. Someplace that wouldn’t change in the middle of the night when the wife discovered the mistress, and Lena and her mother were thrown out on their ear.

The only contact she’d ever had from her father was the monthly check that provided the only steady income they had. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to keep her mother in the lifestyle she preferred. Lena had often wondered if her mother had gotten pregnant on purpose, just to ensure money would come from somewhere. She’d never been brave enough to ask. Probably because she’d been afraid of what the answer might be.

Normally Lena wouldn’t have been one to splurge on unnecessary luxuries, but whatever Wyn had spent on the honeymoon had been worth every penny.

The island was gorgeous, just what she’d expected. Lush colors—green grass, red, pink and yellow flowers, rough brown trunks of towering palm trees and clear turquoise water—surrounded her. The pebbled path leading from the pier to the main building wound through perfect landscaping. She could hear laughter and music floating on the warm sultry air.

The grand facade of the plantation house greeted them. Antique wood and faded walls lent an aura of old-world charm and history that just couldn’t be faked. A larger more modern building rose up behind the house. No doubt it had been added at some point to expand the hotel space.

Lena spun on the path trying to take it all in as Colt held the door open for her. Ducking beneath his outstretched arm, she scooted past. The minute her body brushed against his, an unexpected tension stole into her limbs. It wasn’t the first time she’d had this kind of reaction to Colt, although it had been a while. She groaned inwardly. Why did the physical reaction always have to blindside her? It was nothing. Chemistry. Shaking it off, she tried to focus on the lobby.

Polished wooden floors, hand-carved molding and period fabrics covering the chairs all gave the space an air of authenticity that immediately charmed her. From across the room a cheerful woman with friendly eyes asked, “Checking in?”

Lena nodded, the first genuine smile she’d felt in days on her face. “Lena Fuller.”

“Rand,” Colt’s deep voice rumbled behind her.

She whipped her head around to look at him. “What?”

“I imagine they’d have you listed under Rand, not Fuller.”

Lena wrinkled her nose. “I suppose so.”

“Oh, are you the Rands?”

“No—”

“Not rea—”

The cheerful woman spoke over their words, moving away as she said, “We’ve been expecting you, although we thought you were arriving on the earlier ferry. Let me get Marcy for you, she’ll be handling everything while you’re here.”

Not only was she friendly, but fast. The woman disappeared, leaving Lena standing at the vacant counter, her mouth hanging open, unsaid words stuck in her throat. Colt tapped his finger on her chin and she snapped her jaws shut, ignoring the rush of heat that blasted through her face.

A small woman burst through the doorway behind the wooden counter. Beautiful pale hair fluttered around the sharp angles of her face. She carried her shoulders in the straight line of a drill sergeant, telling Lena that she was definitely in charge.

Marcy stuck her hand out and Lena automatically grasped it.

“Welcome to Escape. I’m Marcy.”

She reached for Colt’s hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Wyn. Of course, I’ll be working with you both this week, trying to keep everything flowing smoothly.”

“Working?” Lena’s mind raced, but she couldn’t make sense of what Marcy was saying.

“The production crew arrived yesterday and set up this morning. We were under the impression you’d be arriving earlier, but I suppose things happen when you’re traveling.”

Lena found herself apologizing, although she wasn’t exactly sure why. Normally, hotels didn’t care when you checked in and none of the literature she’d read about Escape indicated there was a strict policy. “We missed a connection.”

“No matter. We’re on a tight schedule, but we’ve adjusted things accordingly. The team would like to start immediately with some romantic shots during your welcome dinner this evening once you’ve settled.”

The fireball glanced down at the tiny gold watch wrapped around her slender wrist. “Your reservations are at seven so that gives you a couple hours to settle into your bungalow and unpack.” With a smile that was more perfunctory than welcoming, she asked, “Any questions?”

“Yes, what are you talking about?” Lena stared blankly at Marcy. It was as if she was speaking another language, one Lena knew she should understand but didn’t.

“The photo shoot.” The other woman’s eyes glanced behind her at Colt before returning to Lena again. “Surely Wyn explained everything to you.”

Colt cleared his throat. “Perhaps you could do us both a favor and go over it again.”

An expression of disbelief and irritation flitted across Marcy’s face, but she looked at Lena and explained. “Wyn and I have been working on a marketing campaign for Escape. When we started throwing around the idea of featuring a couple, he had the brilliant suggestion that we use you both as a real example of a loving couple honeymooning on our beautiful island.”

“Why would we want to spend our honeymoon posing for an ad campaign?”

Marcy’s brow wrinkled as her frown deepened. “Because you aren’t paying for the vacation.” She shot another nasty look across at Colt. “He really didn’t tell you any of this?”

“No, no, he didn’t.”

“I’m going to kill him.” Colt’s words were low and she thought Marcy hadn’t actually heard them. He started to turn, but Lena grasped his arm and held him there beside her. His biceps flexed beneath her hand. When had he gotten so strong?

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To catch the first ferry so I can kick his ass. He could have stopped us or told us, but he didn’t. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

Frowning at him, she said, “That isn’t funny,” before directing her attention back to Marcy who now looked just as confused as Lena had been moments ago.

“Marcy, there’s been a mix-up.”

“You aren’t Lena Rand?”

“No, yes, I mean I’m Lena but—”

“Are you telling me that if we don’t go through with the photo shoot that we can’t stay at the resort?” Colt raised his voice to drown out the rest of her words.

“Yes. No. Why would you want to back out now?” Marcy’s gaze bored into Colt’s. “You signed a contract, Wyn.”

“Um, I didn’t get married and this isn’t Wyn,” Lena blurted out. She almost felt sorry for Marcy as her eyes widened with shock before narrowing into slits.

“What do you mean this isn’t Wyn? What the hell is going on?”

Lena swallowed, realizing it was the first time she’d had to say out loud what had happened since leaving the church. “Let’s just say that Wyn decided he preferred my teenage whore of a cousin.”

Marcy blinked owlishly and then waved her hand in Colt’s direction. “Then who is this?”

“A friend,” she said, before realizing just how that might sound.

Marcy’s eyes narrowed just a little more as she took in the sight of Lena, unmarried Lena, with Colt towering over her in that way of his.

Lena launched a preemptive strike. “No, seriously, we’re just friends. When the wedding fell apart Colt was there. I had the honeymoon, or what I thought was supposed to be a honeymoon, and we hadn’t seen each other in a very long time.” Lena realized she was rambling but couldn’t seem to stop herself. “He travels. He’s a director. He makes documentaries all over the world.”

“Well, isn’t that nice for him,” Marcy said, looking unconvinced.

“How much would a week here cost, Marcy?” Colt asked, filling the pregnant silence. Which was a good thing because who knew what might come out of Lena’s mouth if she opened it again.

“We reserved the honeymoon bungalow for Wyn, the best location on property. An entire week there would cost $8,595. Not including tax.”

“It’s a private island. How can there be tax?” Colt asked.

“We have to pay the mainland for use of their utilities, municipal resources and the ferry service. But price isn’t the problem.”

Tension poured off Colt in waves. Lena could feel it tightening the muscles in her own back. He was frustrated, angry and ready to kill someone; the only problem was that the target for his anger was an entire ocean away. Normally, she wasn’t a violent person, but if Wyn had been standing next to them, she most definitely would have let Colt have at him. She was getting angrier and angrier with her ex-fiancé by the minute.

“Then what is the problem?” she asked.

“We’re booked solid. I don’t have another available room for four days. I have a contract with the production company, a deadline with the ad agency and an internationally distributed travel magazine. I don’t need more paying guests, I need a couple to photograph for our ad campaign.”

With a dismayed glance behind her, Marcy looked at Colt. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t his job to fix the mess Wyn had created.

“So basically, you’re saying our choices are to agree to appear in your photo shoot and get a free vacation or leave?”

For a moment, Lena thought she saw a glimmer of panic and regret flash through the other woman’s eyes, but before she could pounce it was gone.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. You’re both attractive. You’d make a great couple for our ad campaign. If you’re willing to do the work, I’d be happy to give you the same agreement I offered Wyn. Free room, food and amenities in exchange for your cooperation with our photography team.”

Lena looked around her at the charmingly elegant lobby. Outside the windows she could see the beckoning water and almost hear the lap of the waves as they hit the sand.

She didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Her life back home was a shambles. She wasn’t ready to face it. The resort was beautiful. She’d been looking forward to staying.

“I suppose it could be worse,” she said, looking back at Colt and raising one eyebrow in reluctant surrender.

“How?”

“I could have actually married Wyn.”

A laugh rumbled deep in Colt’s chest. Lena was close enough to feel the vibrations and found an answering smile touch her lips.

“I suppose it would be an adventure. How much work could it possibly be? We’re here …” His voice trailed off. Even he seemed reluctant to turn around immediately and leave. And considering what an ordeal it had been to get here, Lena didn’t blame him. The thought of getting back on a plane right now was not appealing. Especially when she had sandy beaches and a crystal-clear sea stretching invitingly in front of her.

Marcy’s relieved smile was hard to miss. “I guess the only question that remains—since you insist that you’re not a couple—is can the two of you pull off looking like honeymooners for the cameras?”

“Please. I’ve spent most of my adult life behind the camera, plotting angles and setting up shots. I think I can handle being in front of it.”

Without any warning, Colt grasped Lena’s upper arm and spun her around to face him. She wobbled a little, until his arms around her body steadied her. What was he doing?

Laughter still lingered in the back of his bright green eyes. A soft smile touched his mouth, curving his lips even as they parted, moved closer. Lena found her own lips drifting apart. What was she doing?

He bent her backward over his arm, making the room and her equilibrium tilt. His mouth claimed hers in a devastating kiss. She had a moment of shock when her body went rigid, but it was quickly overwhelmed by a radiating warmth that melted through her bones.

He didn’t devour her as some men had a habit of doing. He gently persuaded her to open to him, constant pressure and reassurance that he wouldn’t push beyond what she was comfortable giving.

After several seconds … or maybe minutes, he slowly, smoothly, pulled her back upright and let her go. The world tilted around her for a few seconds.

Her lungs burned. She took a deep breath to fill them back up again, but instead of the tropical scent permeating the lobby, all she could smell now was Colt. A masculine scent that always made her think of sandalwood.

What the hell had just happened?

“Satisfied?” Colt’s voice was smooth and poised. Unaffected. While Lena wasn’t sure she could actually form coherent words. She blinked, trying to clear her vision and the shift her world had taken.

She’d always known he was a good kisser. While he never kept a girl around long, she’d had occasion to mingle with a few of his conquests. They’d always been quick to sing his praises, as if they had some shared knowledge. No one ever believed her when she said they’d never slept together.

Marcy arched an eyebrow, pursed her lips and considered them for several seconds. “I suppose that settles that. Welcome to Escape.”

3

WHY HAD HE KISSED HER?

It had seemed like a harmless thing to do at the time—take a little dig at Marcy and show her she had nothing to worry about—right up until the moment his lips had touched Lena’s. He’d expected it to be light, quick, unimportant. Somehow between the idea and the execution, it had all gone wrong. Instead of something theatrical, he’d found himself really kissing her.

He’d pressed in slowly and asked her for more. And she’d given it. He wasn’t sure what was more shocking, his reaction or hers.

The gut-deep wrench of yearning had come out of nowhere. Left him breathless and reeling. It’d taken everything he had inside to let her go. To pretend nothing had happened. Nothing had changed.

But it had.

He’d known her for sixteen years. When they were children it had been easy, connecting mostly through emails and phone calls. They’d skipped the awkward exploration of teenage years because she was always so far away. And while they’d both gone to college in D.C., they’d been at different schools. They’d seen each other more often, but not every day. They’d always lived separate lives and it was easy to continue to do that even in the same city.

And then his parents had died and he’d … floundered. His brother had tried to fill the void, but he had a young family to take care of. Lena was there for him, and he’d needed her so much. Needed the steady support of their friendship. It was the only thing that had felt real and solid when the rest of his life had spun out of control.

D.C. had become a constant reminder of the parents he’d lost. The family home. His brother, sister-in-law and newborn niece. He’d begun taking jobs, going anywhere as a way to escape it all. However, the work had quickly become important to him for other reasons. He enjoyed the challenges that came with difficult projects and the transient lifestyle that allowed him to move from place to place, constantly experiencing something new.

Ahead of him on the path, Lena’s bright voice floated back to him. “Ooh, they have snorkeling. Maybe Marcy will let us do that one afternoon.”

It was a fluke. That was all. This was Lena they were talking about. They’d studied together, shared pizza, razzed each other about horrible taste in movies, spent hours on the phone when he called from faraway places. She’d been there for him during the worst possible moments of his life.

She’d been the first person at the hospital the night he’d crashed his car going one-twenty down a back-country road. She’d tried to talk him out of skydiving, base jumping and extreme rock climbing. But when he’d refused to listen, she’d been there to bandage his cuts and smack the back of his head. Ultimately, she was the one who shook him out of his grief over losing his parents and convinced him he needed to get back to living.

Lena was important.

Sure, they rarely saw each other now—for the past five years he’d been wandering the globe trying to make his mark as a filmmaker—but their friendship was easy. They could go weeks or even months without talking, but when he did pick up the phone, it was as if they’d spoken the night before.

He didn’t want to lose that. He needed her grounding influence in his life.

Gritting his teeth, Colt determined to ignore the firestorm of hormones raging inside his body until it went away. She’d just been jilted, for heaven’s sake. The last thing she needed was to deal with his wayward lust. And really, that’s all it was. A quick reaction based on a bad decision. He’d been so busy on his last job in Kenya that he hadn’t had time to blow off steam.

Eventually, it would subside and things would go back to normal. Until then, he could fake it.

“Ooh,” she said again, stopping short on the path. Skidding to a halt, he barely missed colliding with her.

She looked up at the tiny bungalow Marcy had assigned them, although he supposed tiny was a relative term. As a permanent residence it would never have done. But as vacation spots went it was pretty amazing.

The outside was made of warm, polished wood that gleamed beneath the late-afternoon sun. Lena pushed open the solid door, revealing the dark interior. Cool air leaked out to touch Colt’s skin. Before that moment, he hadn’t realized how hot it was here.

Their bags, along with an itinerary Marcy was eager to get started on, were to be delivered shortly. In the meantime, they had nothing to do but explore their temporary home.

Lena was busy wandering around the edges of the room, looking through the windows and squealing about their private infinity pool on their secluded patio.

All he could see was the single king-size four-poster bed that dominated half the room.

Eventually, Lena made her way over to it. She bounced down onto the mattress, the comforter bunching up around her and the pillows toppling haphazardly behind her.

“One bed, huh. Wanna draw straws?”

“Please. You’re welcome to take the couch if you don’t trust yourself in the same bed with me,” he joked, a smile plastered to his still-pulsing lips.

She snorted. “It’s my honeymoon. If anyone’s sleeping on the couch, it’s you.” She flopped onto her back, her arms spread wide across the entire length of the bed. “It would be the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“You’ve known me for how long?”

“Long enough.”

“So you know better than to accuse me of being a gentleman.”

“True enough.” She laughed. Sitting up, she looked across at him.

“Why did you do that?”

He thought he knew what she was talking about, but part of him hoped he was wrong. “Do what?” Her mouth took on a serious slant. “Kiss me.” He shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Awkwardness, never present before, settled between them. He realized that he should probably apologize. Or maybe promise her he wouldn’t do it again. But the words didn’t form.

“Well, um, let’s try to avoid having to do that again.”

“Well, hell, I’ve never gotten any complaints before.” He exaggerated his words, pulling his face into a mock scowl, trying to restore the equilibrium they’d lost. “Was kissing me such a hardship?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“I didn’t say that, either,” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes.

“Anyway, I don’t think Marcy will require that kind of commitment. From either of us.” He hoped.

“Maybe not, but I’d really like to avoid having to explain to everyone what happened. I’m here to forget about the wedding, and I’m afraid these photo sessions will cause a stir. Maybe we should just pretend that we’re actually married.”

Well, he definitely hadn’t expected this. But, now that he thought about it, her suggestion made sense. If he were in her position, he wouldn’t want to have to retell the story over and over, reliving the painful experience.

“All right,” he agreed slowly. “I have a problem with outright lying, but I don’t mind letting people think whatever they want.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

A knock at the door signaled the arrival of their luggage and put an end to their conversation. Several minutes later, he found himself outside walking slowly around the rim of the pool while Lena got ready for their first assignment—a romantic dinner, according to Marcy.

He just hoped he could get through the night without doing something he’d regret. Like kissing her again.

AWKWARDNESS HAD SETTLED around them again. The restaurant was elegant and romantic, which probably didn’t help the situation. Decorated in soft blues and greens that complemented the untamed tropical beauty outside, the dining area had an undercurrent of sensuality and sophistication. It was the sort of place a man took a woman he was planning to seduce, Lena thought.

Her eyes strayed sideways to Colt as the maître d’ led them through the restaurant. Colt’s hand settled lightly on the small of her back, guiding her through the maze of tables. Her muscles tightened beneath his touch, making her feel even more unsettled.

Colt had touched her a thousand times. Hadn’t he? Her body had never responded this way before. Had it?

Lena thought hard. Maybe. When they were both in college, there’d been some faint wisp of attraction. But it had gone away, to be replaced by deep affection. Which meant more than a fleeting physical attraction that could burn out and die. Right?

She’d seen it time and time again growing up. Her mother would gush over the latest man in her life. Her cheeks would be pink, her eyes would glow. But three months later there would be yelling and crying. Until the next man and the next place. If Lena had learned anything from watching her mother, it was that sexual attraction never lasted and was hardly the foundation for a good relationship.

Oh, she liked sex just as much as the next woman, but she’d always looked for more than a spark. Which is what she’d thought she’d found with Wyn.

The sommelier approached their table and introduced himself. “Marcy has arranged for a flight of excellent wines to accompany your dinner this evening.” Twisting the bottle he’d held against his arm, he presented it to Colt for his inspection. “This is our best champagne, compliments of the house in celebration of your marriage.”

Colt, who had leaned forward, sprawled back into his chair. The tip of his shoe nudged against her foot. Lena drew her own feet back underneath her chair. Two days ago, heck two hours ago, it wouldn’t have bothered her. But something had changed. An awareness of him as a man had sprung up seemingly out of nowhere.

Oh, she’d always thought he was an attractive man. With his rugged good looks and the well-defined muscles his dangerous hobbies had given him, any woman would be hard-pressed to argue. Colt had an air about him, an adventurous spirit that made you think you’d never be bored while he was around.

But she didn’t want adventure, never had. She wanted a man who would settle in one place, build a solid and stable life for her and their children. Colt didn’t fit that bill. Yet another reason she’d never thought of him in a romantic or sexual way.

“Didn’t you hear? We’re not—”

Lena kicked him with her sandal-clad foot, stubbing her toe and shutting him up in one fell swoop. Grimacing, she said, “Colt, behave.”

“What would be the fun in that?” he asked, mischief glinting in his eyes. She’d seen that look before, many times, and it usually heralded some harebrained scheme that she wanted no part of—such as jumping out of a perfectly functioning airplane.

There were many things about Colt that she liked. He was a good friend, always there for her when she needed him. But there was plenty about him that she just didn’t understand, and she had convinced herself a long time ago she never would.

She shot Colt a warning look for good measure as the sommelier poured. Lena gratefully accepted her glass. Taking a sip, she let the chilled bubbles tickle her nose and cascade down her throat. “Mmm, this is good.” It was light and fruity, sweet on her tongue. She took another sip. And another.

Looking at Colt, she smiled. Candlelight flickered between them, casting shifting shadows across his face. She wanted to reach out and run the pad of her finger over his skin. Her smile vanished and her eyes darted away. What was she thinking? She lifted her glass and drained it.

Colt palmed the bottle from the waiting bucket and asked, “More?”

The playful mask he’d been wearing slipped and for the first time Lena realized he was worried about her. The space between his eyebrows wrinkled and his lips pulled tight into a straight line.

“I’m fine,” she said.

Colt shrugged, the dress shirt he’d put on pulling tight against the broad expanse of his shoulders. “If you say so.”

She was halfway through her second glass, on an empty stomach, when Marcy appeared at her elbow.

“All settled in?”

Lena looked up at the other woman, at the strained smile that stretched her lips but didn’t touch her eyes.

“Yes, the bungalow is lovely.”

“I’m so glad you’re pleased.”

Marcy plunked something that made a metallic twang onto the table. The plain gold bands rattled for a moment before settling against each other. “I noticed you didn’t have rings. We’ll need them for the photographs.”

Lena stared at the rings. Without looking at her, Colt reached for the bigger one, slipping it onto his finger.

She swallowed, picked hers up and slid it snugly against the princess-cut diamond already on her finger. She’d been wearing the engagement ring for so long she’d forgotten it was there. Now, however, it felt all wrong, and she wished she’d left it back in D.C. Both bands sat heavy against her skin. She didn’t want either of them, but when Marcy let out a sigh of relief, Lena dropped her hands into her lap, her naked right covering her left.

With a wave of her hand, Marcy pulled over a man with a camera draped across his neck. Lena had wondered when the three-ring circus would start.

“This is Mikhail. He’s going to be the photographer this week. The photo shoot was supposed to be organic, catching a real honeymooning couple as they explored all the resort had to offer. We were hoping to use candid shots. Obviously, that might be a little difficult now.”

“Why do you say that?” Colt asked.

Marcy shot him an incredulous look. “Well, for starters, you’re both sitting as far away from each other as possible without being at separate tables.”

Colt’s lips dipped down into a frown. Lena took in their positions and realized Marcy was right. A hard glint entered Colt’s eyes. Slapping his hand down onto the table, his open palm waited expectantly as he said, “Give me your hand.”

Reluctantly, Lena placed her hand in his. His fingers brushed against the pulse at her wrist, sending it skittering. A warm heat that had nothing to do with the alcohol she’d drunk suffused her skin.

Colt’s eyes changed, going from hard to soft. He pulled their joined hands closer, forcing her to either let go or press her body against the biting edge of the table.

She’d left her hair down and it fell around her face, somehow closing the rest of the restaurant out and training her focus solely on him. Colt leaned forward, meeting her halfway across the table. His tongue licked across his lips, drawing her attention to his mouth. She’d never bothered to study it before. Or maybe it had been intentional avoidance. But since he’d used his mouth against her …

It was sensual, wide. The dip in the center of his top lip flared out in a way that made her want to close the gap between them and suck it into her own mouth.

Something flared in the back of his eyes. An awareness and intensity she’d only ever seen him focus on someone else.

She leaned closer. The candle burning between them flickered with the breeze from their joined breaths.

What was she doing?

Her teeth clinked together and she pulled back. He reluctantly let her hand go. His palm scraped slowly against hers. Her nerve endings pulsed and flared, sending unwanted signals all through her body.

Lena put her hands in her lap and rubbed her palm, trying to stop the ripple effect. It didn’t work. The damage was already done. She blinked, feeling sluggish, disoriented and sorely out of her element.

“Better?” he asked in a low rumbling voice that sent shivers down her spine.

Without thought, Lena nodded, and then realized Colt was no longer looking at her but up at Marcy.

“Uh-huh,” Marcy uttered before clearing her throat and jerking her gaze away. “Mikhail, we’ll try the candid shots tonight.”

Marcy flicked them one more calculating glance before melting away from their table. Lena thought she heard the other woman whisper, “Wine. Lots of wine,” to their sommelier as she passed, but she couldn’t be certain.

Lena looked across at Colt and for the first time in their friendship had no idea what to say. Luckily, the salad course arrived and saved her from having to come up with something.

Her mouth watered at the crisp greens, strawberries, candied nuts and light citrus dressing their waiter placed before her. She was grateful for something to occupy her hands … and her mouth.

But apparently Colt wasn’t as desperate for the distraction. He took a few bites and then set his fork down. Instead of eating, he watched her. Several times she picked up her napkin and blotted her lips for fear that the dressing was dribbling down her chin. She was already on edge and he wasn’t helping any. She was about to tell him to knock it off, but he spoke before her.

“Why did you want to marry Wyn?”

Surprised by his question, she sputtered for a few seconds, unsure what to say. They’d never really talked about her relationship with Wyn before. She didn’t know why, but there was some tacit agreement between them. He didn’t tell her about the women who flitted through his life and she rarely mentioned Wyn when they spoke.

It felt weird to be talking with Colt about him now, but he’d asked. She tried to remember exactly what it was about Wyn that had mattered. Her brain felt fuzzy and the only thing she could come up with was, “Because … he was good to me.”

“Not because you loved him.”

“Of course I loved him,” Lena protested.

Colt shook his head. “I don’t think there’s any ‘of course’ about it. You haven’t even cried.”

“I hate crying in front of people. You know that,” she scoffed, dismissing his statement without really even thinking about it.

“Maybe. But I watched you up on that altar. You were so pale I was worried you might faint. Right up until the minute your cousin objected and then color flooded your cheeks. You were shocked, possibly angry, but that was relief I saw all over your face.”

Lena looked at him, the pleasant buzz that had entered her blood lessening just a little. Was he right?

“You’re upset because things didn’t work out the way you wanted them to. Maybe you’re even embarrassed that it fell apart in front of so many people.” Colt paused. “But you aren’t heartbroken.”

He was wrong. Wasn’t he? “How is heartbroken supposed to look, Colt? Am I supposed to be inconsolable? Sobbing in my bed surrounded by spent tissues? Please. I’ve seen that scene before, more times than I care to count.”

Her tongue felt loose, unhinged. Even as she said the words, she realized she was sharing more with him than she meant to. More than she’d ever said before. To anyone. “Do you know how often I scraped together the pieces of my mother and tried to put them back together? How many times I had to beg and plead with her just to get out of bed? After every man—there were plenty and they all left—she’d spend days, weeks, sometimes months inconsolable and incapable of doing anything. Especially taking care of a child.”

She glared across at him, years of conviction radiating from her eyes. “I refuse to be like her. I will not let a relationship devastate or control me like that. So, yes, I’m upset. Wyn and I were supposed to have a life together. He betrayed me in the worst possible way. With my cousin. Excuse me if I’m not handling the situation the way you expected me to.”

Colt’s eyes were round with shock. His silence slammed down between them and the minute it did Lena regretted her words. It was obvious that he’d gotten way more than he’d bargained for.

Their food hadn’t even arrived, but that didn’t matter. Lena wasn’t hungry anymore. In fact, she needed to get out of there before she said even more. Lena scraped her chair against the stone floor and walked toward the exit.

Colt called her name. The photographer cursed.

She ignored them both.

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