afternoon in front of La Playa Real."
She blinked. "What?"
"This afternoon," he repeated. "We don't sail until eight o'clock."
"I thought you had a meeting." Ostensibly that was why he'd made his dramatic entrance through the secret panel in the hallway.
"I do, but I'll bail out early."
"I don't want you to lose your job, Jake." She wasn't being altruistic. She simply didn't want it on her conscience.
"Don't worry about my job." He bent down and kissed her thoroughly. "The clock's ticking, Megan. Let's make the most of it."
#
Megan swore she wasn't going to meet him. God knew, she had every reason not to. What had happened between them was beyond explanation. Six long years had vanished at the first intoxicating feel of skin against skin and Megan had responded like one possessed, but that was no reason to think it had to happen a second time.
She didn't want to feel this way. She'd wanted to discover that his magic had disappeared along with their marriage, discover that she could live without magic and warm kisses and dreams she no longer believed could come true.
But La Mirada was far from reality. The island was a verdant swell of land southwest of Nassau, one of those lushly beautiful places that seemed designed strictly to put people in the mood for romance.
Bougainvillea bloomed everywhere you looked. Beach roses vied with gardenias for room. The houses were pastel confections of lemon and mint and sky blue with wrought-iron grille-work and window boxes overflowing with geraniums. It was easy to forget there was a real world out there.
Back home she might be able to convince herself she was happy with the status quo, but there in that lush Caribbean paradise it was hard to imagine being satisfied with anything less than the splendor she'd found last night in his arms.
"I wish you were coming with us," Val said as she and Megan parted company in town. "Tropicale is flying us over to Freeport to visit the casinos."
"Sounds terrific," Megan said, "but I thought I'd do a little sightseeing right here."
Val shrugged. "To each her own." She hurried off to catch up with her sister and the rest of the group who were boarding the jitney bus that would take them to the tiny airport.
Megan watched as the bus rattled down the street, then disappeared around the corner, leaving her alone.
But not really.
She sensed his presence as strongly as she had the first night aboard ship. A bone-deep awareness of the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the way she held her head. The awareness was almost painful
"You're late," he said, stepping out from the shadows.
"Not very."
"Having second thoughts?"
"No," she said as he approached, all male swagger and splendor. His jeans were faded. His smile was bright. "Are you?"
He took her arm, the pressure of his fingers blatantly possessive. "Ask me again in a few hours."
Suddenly the thought of spending more than a few minutes alone with her ex-husband seemed an exercise in insanity. Forty-eight hours ago Jake had been nothing more than a memory, a part of Megan's past that she could summon up at will or relegate to the farthest corner of her mind. But there was no way she could dismiss the man next to her. He commanded attention. She saw it in the glances of the women strolling past, in the way other men moved aside to make way for him as they started down the narrow cobblestone street.
In her own acquiescence to the force of his will.
A ripple of anticipation ran up her spine. This is why you're here, she reminded herself as Jake led her up a narrow path that wound its way up a steep hill lined with bougainvillea and gardenias. She wanted the passion between them to blaze hotter than the sun overhead, then burn itself out once and for all.
They picked their way over the uneven road toward El Cielo, a 16th century fort on the eastern side of the tiny island. Jake seemed to know the island by heart, from the twisting roads to the history of the fort.
"How did you learn so much about La Mirada?" she asked.
"I lived here for a few months after we divorced."
"A bit off the beaten path, isn't it?"
"That's what I was looking for."
"I remember," she said softly. Don't ask me to be like your father, Meggie...there's more to life than the bottom line and stock options when you retire.... She cleared her throat. "Still planning to sail around