between them to clasp the woman’s outstretched hands. Why did she feel she was coming home? What sort of magic did this couple practice, that drew her in before she pondered or analyzed her decision to buy this island? Leilani’s ebony waves flowed past her shoulders, and the bright pink lily tucked at her ear matched the pattern of her simple dress. Her full lips and wide-set eyes captivated Cat, as did her richly tanned skin.
“Leilani, it’s such a pleasure to—”
“The pleasure is mine, Catalina,” the woman purred. “The Contessa wishes she were here to enjoy this historic moment, I can assure you! She used to read your books aloud to us in the evenings, as the rum punch took up where the sunset left off.”
“My stories probably sounded much more inspired when you were sipping that punch,” Cat said with a laugh. “But what a compliment! There’s nothing so wonderful as hearing that people have enjoyed my books.”
“And another will be out soon, I hope?” Leilani pulled out one of the three cushioned chairs at the table for her.
“Easier wished for than done, I’m afraid.” People who weren’t in publishing never really understood how things worked for writers, but perhaps this intuitive woman would get most of it. “My last two books didn’t sell well—never mind that they were eclipsed by the September Eleventh disaster and an unforeseen distribution crisis. So my contract got canceled.”
Leilani’s lovely face fell in sympathy—and disdain. “What fools, to dismiss your talent! I hope that hasn’t discouraged you from writing, dear.”
“I’m working on another story. A pirate romance,” Cat replied. Her voice rose with new hope—a sense that she could succeed again! “I found this fabulous island while I was researching—”
“No, Miss Gamble. Porto Di Angelo found you.”
Her hostess pronounced this with the unflinching certainty of one attuned to higher realms. “We placed our ad again,” she explained, “sensing the time was right to find a new mistress. While we knew this person would never replace Miss Borgia, she will take up where the Contessa left off…will bring a focus—a sense of direction—to the island again.”
Leilani placed her hands on Cat’s then, her smile mystical yet sly. “You might as well say yes, Catalina. I knew the moment you contacted us that we’d finally found the right earth angel for the job.”
Was it the way Leilani used her full name that captivated her? Or the way this woman’s eyes glowed a light, luminous blue in her deep olive face, framed by that cascade of sable waves? The bright pink lily at her temple drew Cat’s attention to an ageless face that radiated serenity and a sense of purpose.
And when Ramon sat down beside his wife, smiling deeply at her, Cat understood implicitly that she could have her hot, edgy fantasies about this man, but hopping into bed with him was not an option.
And that was fine! What a pair they made, he in his high-powered pinstriped suit and she wrapped in a graceful pink sari that draped her shapely curves. The fabric whispered seductively with each move she made pouring tea and passing Cat trays of sliced fruits, crustless sandwiches, and tiny glazed petit fours.
Cat’s mouth dropped open and she couldn’t choose. The Fiesta dishes and tropical fruit made such a colorful presentation, it looked like they were throwing her a party! “Maybe it’s jet lag or those stale pretzels on the flight,” she murmured, “but I’m suddenly hungry within an inch of my life.”
When Leilani laughed, her glimmering eyes urged Cat to really help herself to everything she wanted. Well, everything but Ramon, maybe.
“You’ve heard this before, but your blue eyes are such a…a novelty on someone with your tropical complexion.”
Her hostess smiled proudly. “My father was an Englishman and my mother from Polynesia. Ramon insists I got the best of both their features, even though he never met them. You’ve no doubt discovered what a romantic side he has.”
Cat paused with a small sandwich in front of her open mouth. How was she to answer that? “He—he had a very courtly air as he chauffeured me here, yes. Gallantry is hard to come by these days.”
“It is.” Leilani watched Cat’s eyes for ulterior responses…secrets, perhaps. “I’m sure you understand why I’m a very…possessive wife. He’s the only man on the island, and he’s mine—to share as I see fit.”
“As he should be.” Cat nodded briskly, choosing more fruit and sandwiches. “Believe me, Leilani, after what I went through following my husband’s death and the nasty surprises that came after, it’ll be a while before I want to—”
“No, it won’t. You’re hot for it, same as any healthy, attractive woman.” Leilani’s smile broke through the wariness of their conversation. “I predict you’ll attract a man in less than a week, Catalina. We may be isolated here, surrounded by the sea, but I feel your vibrations already beaming out.”
“Like radar? Or sonar the dolphins communicate with?” It occurred to her then that Spike had been keeping his distance—or at least keeping his smoke to himself. Maybe he had some manners, after all. Or maybe he was already on his mission to find her a man.
Taking her hand, Leilani pointed over the porch railing. “Just like those dolphins frolicking in the surf, yes. They send out their joyful delight, and it returns to them in even greater abundance.”
Cat stood up, mesmerized. While the ad for this island had mentioned dolphins at play, she’d never in her wildest dreams imagined living where she could watch them. Her heart pounded with an inexplicable yearning. Her body tightened with intense excitement. Bright red and white hibiscus bloomed in profusion amid dense, flowering shrubbery that appeared wild yet carefully tended. It was all so pretty. So perfect.
As the dolphins rounded the island beyond her view, she leaned against a porch pillar to take in the view toward the front of the house. The breeze caressed her cheek, and a pair of gulls swooped gracefully over the breaking waves, dipping down to catch their dinner.
Accompanying this dream was the surf, the rhythmic lullaby of waves breaking against the sand. Cat had the sudden urge to shed her black twin set and slacks to walk barefoot in the sand…to feel it ooze up between her toes as the ruffles of white foam lapped at her ankles.
“Perhaps we should see the house,” Leilani suggested, “and then there’s nothing like a sunset walk along the beach to clear your mind. While we talk as if your staying is inevitable or predetermined, you do have a choice. It’s a life-altering decision, dear, so think on it well.”
Cat breathed deeply and then exhaled what felt like a lifetime of stress and heartache and betrayal. “You’re probably right. But then, you already know my answer, don’t you?”
“Leilani knows everyone’s answer, usually before they do,” Ramon remarked. “And because I trust her intuition completely, I’ll leave you ladies to your tour.”
He rose, towering over them, smiling down like some beneficent chocolate god. “If you have questions, please don’t hesitate to ask,” he said in that late-night radio voice. “And if you need inspiration for this book you’re working on, well, we can come up with something for you there, too.”
Cat watched him duck slightly to enter the house, hearing his innuendo and knowing to leave it alone. On impulse, she piled more grapes and petit fours on her plate. “I’m so excited—and so hungry—I hope you won’t mind if I nosh while you show me around.”
The housekeeper smiled that mystical smile again. “Why would I mind? It’s your house. And you’re going to write a blockbuster, breakout novel before you’ve been here six months.”
Cat nipped her lip. Maybe this woman, so very much a Caribbean lily, was more knowledgeable about the world of books and publishing than she’d thought. But then, at this point in her career, she was ready to believe anything, wasn’t she?
From the