bride here, but like an innocent again. Alive in a childlike way, anticipating wonderful things that each and every day might bring her now!
She flipped open her laptop and waited for the satellite signal, grinning when she saw Grant’s message.
SUBJECT: You go, girl!
We’re happy you’re so happy, Cat! Your money has been deposited at the Bank of St. Lucia in Castries, so if Porto Di Angelo is your heart’s desire, you should have it! Proceed with caution, sweetheart: those island types may appear unsophisticated and primitive, but things aren’t always what they seem.
“Amen to that,” she breathed.
When she read the last few lines, about the latest pirate fantasies he and Bruce and Trevor had enacted, she knew it was time to turn her own sense of adventure loose, too. Shopping for clothes had to be a high priority today: in her fuchsia print overblouse with navy twills, she looked like a middle-class wife from the Midwest, and it was time to change that!
Cat banished the recollection of two nude bodies on the beach and went downstairs. Heavenly scents of sweet spices and bacon met her on the stairway, and those colorful angels floating from the ceiling put her in a cheerful mood. She followed voices out to the porch, where her two caretakers lingered over their coffee.
“Good morning, Catalina!” Leilani’s blue eyes glistened like crystals in her bronzed face. She poured a cup of tea from the scarlet Fiesta pot while Ramon hopped up to pull out a chair.
“You slept well, I hope?” he asked.
Cat sat down. How should she say what was on her mind? “You know how it is,” she hedged. “I was keyed up about coming here, and tired from—”
“Not to mention aroused after watching sex on the beach that had nothing to do with liquor?”
She blinked. Leilani’s voice hinted at a challenge, pride in what they’d done! “Well, I wasn’t expecting to see—”
“Pardon my French, but we have an entire island to ourselves, so we fuck like bunnies.” Ramon’s eyes steamed like the tea in her cup. “Adventuress that she was, the Contessa encouraged us to love freely wherever—”
“And did she share in that love?” Cat’s cheeks flamed when such a blatant question slipped out before she could catch it.
“Most times she was entertaining her own lovers.” Leilani smiled enigmatically and passed a plate of nut breads and pastries that looked homemade. “We all agreed that this would be the best way to remain on proper footing, far as relations between the owner and her help. If what you saw last night upset or disgusted you—”
“No, I just—”
“—we’ll be more discreet.” Leilani gave her husband a pointed look when he opened his mouth to protest. “We must all adjust to this new situation, because Ramon and I are overjoyed that you’re interested in Porto Di Angelo. Several corporate and Asian investors want to turn our home into a gentlemen’s retreat or a swingers’ resort, and I’m not ready to go there!”
Cat laughed, relaxing. “Maybe—at least until we’re better acquainted—you could warn me when you’ll be running around outside my balcony…fucking like bunnies. Especially if I can’t have any.”
How crude did that sound? Cat quickly bit into a slice of papaya poppyseed bread so tender it fell apart in her fingers.
Ramon’s snicker prompted Leilani to laugh out loud. “Point well taken.”
“Yes, you did take it well, my witchy woman,” her husband teased. “But you ladies are right. Miss Gamble’s…desperation…isn’t what we should be inspiring.”
Again Cat’s cheeks flared, but the issue had been defused, hadn’t it? Thanks to Ramon’s lusty humor and Leilani’s gentle yet head-on handling of the situation, she could enjoy this wonderful breakfast, and her other issues would be a lot easier to discuss, too. She reached for a pinwheel pastry with apricot filling oozing out of it while Leilani poured her husband another cup of coffee.
“You’ve come to a decision,” the housekeeper stated with a faraway smile. “So how may we help you implement it?”
The pastry fell back to Cat’s plate. Was she that easy to read, or was Leilani tuned in to her deepest frequencies?
“I—I’ve decided to buy Porto Di Angelo! My attorney tells me the money’s been deposited at the Bank of St. Lucia, so I’d like to go there as soon as possible—”
“Today,” Ramon affirmed with a grin. “This is the news we’ve hoped for, pretty lady!”
“—but first you’ve got to tell me why your English is so perfect!” It was an odd request, but now was the time to clear up all the discrepancies between reality and her expectations, wasn’t it? “So many things here are too good to be true. I certainly never expected domestics whose command of the language exceeds my own. And I don’t say that to just anyone!”
Leilani’s blue-eyed smile focused more intently. “I mentioned, I think, that my parents were English. My mother was a teacher, and my father sailed in the merchant marine. Since my dark skin and wavy hair are so very different from theirs, my…lineage was always a matter of speculation. Even to me.” She smiled ruefully and sipped her coffee. “I was a fanciful child with many imaginary playmates,” she went on, “but when I learned I was the result of my mother’s affair with a cabana boy, my invisible friends revealed themselves as my angels. They protected me from cruel remarks and the judgmental attitudes of Father’s friends.”
“Oh, my.” The beautiful woman’s thin voice told a more poignant tale than her steady smile let on. “I didn’t mean to intrude—or be nosy—”
“No, no. I’ve come to terms with my mother’s pursuit of happiness. I survived the teasing of the neighborhood children by immersing myself in my books—and my angels. I was earning my second master’s degree when I met Ramon—savvy, dashing man that he is! That’s when I knew I needed a life and a lover much more than I needed more time in school.”
“She speaks seven island languages, as well as English, French, and Portuguese,” Ramon chimed in proudly.
“And Italian, since Valenzia thought we girls should have a language all our own.” Leilani grinned impishly. “Of course, you’ve learned that Ramon is very good with…tongues…himself. But you have more pressing issues on your mind than our love life, Catalina! If you have questions about this house—or how the island is maintained—please ask us!”
The housekeeper’s dazzling smile derailed Cat’s train of thought—another uncanny talent Leilani had. “Yes! I’d like to arrange the sale and payment for Porto Di Angelo today. And I’d certainly like to buy some appropriate clothes!”
“I’ll prepare the yacht, then. We’ll be on our way as soon as you ladies are ready,” Ramon crooned. “If you’ll allow us, we can make sure your transaction goes without a hitch.”
“My cousin is a loan officer at the Bank of St. Lucia. He’ll be sure no hidden fees or taxes get figured in just because you’re American and wouldn’t be aware of them,” Leilani clarified.
“I, of course, will see that no one takes advantage of a pretty Anglo woman here alone,” her husband added suavely. “You know by now that I’m not violent by nature—”
“But nobody messes with a guy who stands nearly seven feet tall! And who has very interesting…thumbnails.” Once again Cat wondered where such a question had come from. Had Spike prodded her into saying that? Or were this witchy woman and her buck lover redefining her rules of engagement?
Ramon’s coffee-colored eyes steamed as he gazed at her. He clasped his hands together so those unique nails were on the tops of his fists, pointed upward like swords. He looked very, very confident. Downright predatory.
“Do