The Island

She had always loved it.

Until now.

Today it seemed the island itself was working against her. She lost the trail and almost emerged at the other end of the beach. Retracing her steps, she swore softly.

A large mosquito decided to take a good chunk out of her arm, and she slapped it furiously, taking inordinate pleasure out of the fact that she managed to kill it.

At last she wound her way back to the clearing where she had stood the day before with the girls.

She looked around, trying to assess the area. Fallen palm fronds seemed to be everywhere.

Had there been that many yesterday? She tried to remember exactly where they had been standing.

And then where Keith Henson had emerged from the trees.

In the end, because there were so many palm fronds down on the ground, she decided to examine them one by one.

She tried to make sure she didn’t miss an area. She had gotten to her fourth frond when she heard footsteps.

Someone else was heading for the clearing.

She forced herself to pause and listen. After determining the direction from which the sounds were coming, she headed across the clearing. As soon as she reached the shelter of the trees, she spun around, afraid that whoever it was had already burst into the clearing and seen her.

Through the trees, she could see something glinting.

She narrowed her eyes and swallowed hard. Whoever was coming was carrying a knife. A big knife.

A machete.

Staring intently at that deadly glint, she backed farther into the trees.

Suddenly she felt an arm reach around her middle, pulling her deeper into the foliage.

A scream rose to her throat.

But a second hand clamped tightly over her mouth, and no sound escaped.

4

STRETCHED OUT ON THE SAND, Amber watched her aunt disappear into the foliage, then rolled again to face Kimberly with a sigh.

“We’ve got to do something!”

“About what?”

“Beth, of course.”

“You’re calling her ‘Beth’ now?” Kimberly queried with a brow arched high in a semblance of mature disapproval.

“No…it’s just, we’ve got to do something.”

“She’s so cute,” Kim agreed.

“And so is he,” Amber said.

“Which one?” Kim asked, frowning.

“The cute one.”

“Even your dad is cute,” Kim said.

Amber laughed, shuddering. “Ugh. Dads are not cute.”

Kim shrugged. “I’m sure he is to lots of people.”

“I know, but…ugh. No, I’m talking about him. And I know you know which one I’m talking about.”

“Keith Henson,” Kim agreed sagely.

“We need to get the two of them fixed up.”

“Amber, they’re both here. If they want to get fixed up, they’ll do it.” Kim giggled. “I mean, they’re older than we are. They’ve got to have some smarts.”

“Do you think he has a wife somewhere? Or a girlfriend?” Amber asked worriedly.

“I don’t think so.”

“He better have, like, a real job. I don’t want my aunt working her whole life to support some beach bum.”

“Amber, we’re not getting them married off or anything.”

“But we should get them together,” Amber protested. “Seriously, she’s so pretty, but she never goes out. She needs a date.”

Kim blushed. “You mean she’s not getting any?” she asked with a giggle.

“Kim!” Amber nudged her hard.

“Well?”

“We need to set her up. But first we have to check him out.”

“How are we supposed to do that?”

“I’m not sure yet. We’ll have to see when we get home. Dad has lots of cop friends. We can talk to one of them.”

“Amber, we may never see these guys again once we go home.”

Amber sat up, grinning, and did an amazing Alfred Hitchcock impersonation. “Have you ever had a premonition?”

Kim laughed. “All right. We’ll do a real investigation when we get home. Meanwhile, I’ll find out a few things about him.”

“And how will you do that?” Amber demanded.

Kim smiled smugly. “Silly. I’ll just ask him.”

THE YACHT WAS STATE OF THE ART. Ben loved it the minute he stepped aboard.

“Wow,” he said simply to Lee.

He worked hard and earned decent money as an attorney, and he’d been proud of his own boat, but in comparison, Time Off was small.

And simple.

What the hell does this guy do for a living? he wondered, though he was too polite to ask. None of the guys seemed like dope dealers, and he’d learned that in Miami, lots of people were simply independently wealthy.

Hank Mason wasn’t quite so hesitant.

“How the hell do you afford a puppy like this?” he demanded.

“Family money, I’m afraid.” Lee’s pride was justified when he grinned and said, “She’s something, huh? She’s a Hatteras, top of the line, and she’s been customized, since most of these ladies aren’t set up for real fishing.”

Customized to a T, Ben thought. Topside, there was the kind of rigging that made deep-water sport fishing fun. The flybridge offered every convenience from a global explorer to sonar and radar equipment, along with a stereo system and the more mundane racks for drinks and snacks. The upper deck offered complete comfort, and the decking was exquisite, with teak trimming. There was even a small refrigerator. The stern afforded racks for at least twelve diving tanks, and a lift-top seat bore a small sign that read Diving Equipment.

“Come into the cabin. You’ll like her even more,” Lee told Ben.

“I like her already,” Amanda said. She smiled up at Ben and linked an arm through his. “Now this, I must say, is a boat.”

Ben had known Amanda for several years, though never well. She was definitely beautiful, capable of stirring his senses, but also making him uncomfortable. He’d learned a long time ago that when someone you loved died, you lost a part of yourself, but you were still among the living. And being alive, he definitely had sexual urges. Amanda gave a man the impression that she could fulfill those urges beyond his wildest dreams. It would be a lie to say she didn’t have an effect on him. The problem was, she gave the same impression to every man. He would never trust a woman like her if he so much as blinked. For some guys, it would be okay. They were players. It was curious, though, that she seemed to be hanging on to him. He knew he was decent looking, fit and made a good living.

But the island, as Amanda had said herself, was chockfull of testosterone. Lee, Matt and Keith were the kind of men women always seemed to go for—well-muscled, tall, with the slightly rough good looks and hard-adventure attitude that seemed to draw women like moths.

So why the hell was Amanda clinging to him?

He wasn’t a player. His life focused—maybe too much, as Beth was always warning him—on his daughter. And he had a great career. So unless he found himself falling head over heels in love again, he kept his social life discreet. It actually did exist, which might surprise his sister.

But then, a lot about him might surprise his sister.

“Cool, huh?” Amanda murmured, snuggling a little closer. She was wearing sexy perfume, and she knew how to press her anatomy against a guy.

He smiled and shrugged, looking down at her. “It’s one hell of a boat,” he agreed.

“Come below,” Lee urged, and the rest followed.

Only Lee and Matt were hosting their excursion. Keith had chosen not to come, and despite his impatience with Beth, Ben had to admit that the guy staying back had caused him a bit of concern. But Brad and Sandy were on the island, as well, as was Roger. Though he vaguely felt he should be concerned about Keith, he just couldn’t believe the man had any real evil intentions. He didn’t like to believe in instinct—he’d worked in the D.A.’s office long enough to learn that it was unreliable at best—but no matter what logic told him, he didn’t fear for his daughter, her friend or his sister when they were with the guy.

“Oh, wow!” Amanda exclaimed, hugging his arm. “This is beautiful!”

The cabin utilized its limited space with sleek elegance. A turn to the left of the steps led straight to an aft cabin, while the steps themselves led into a galley that seemed to offer more appliances than his home kitchen. The galley spilled into a main salon with a desk that held a computer, a radio and a number of electronics he couldn’t even name. A table looked as if it could hold up to eight diners, and a hallway led to a forward cabin and the head. Everything was leather, teak or chrome.

“Can I get anyone anything?” Lee asked.

“Beer,” Ben said.

Lee moved into the galley, grinning. “Amanda?”

“You have any white wine back there?”

“Sure. Hank…Gerald?”

The other two men settled on beers. After the drinks were served—even Amanda’s wine was in a small bottle—Lee led the way through to the aft cabin. The master stateroom held a large, comfortable bed. “It’s a trundle,” Lee explained proudly. “When you need more space, you just pull it out. Of course, you lose your floor space that way. But it allows for a lot of sleeping space. There are a couple of ‘closet bunks’ in the hallway, as well. There’s a private head here in the master stateroom, too, with a shower. But it’s the fishing we’re out for. Let’s head back up.”

Ben thought Matt might have gone topside already, to fire up the motor. But he hadn’t.

He had remained in the cabin by the computer desk, radio, and Ben had the oddest feeling that the guy was guarding them.

Amanda was still glued to his arm, but Ben had a feeling she, too, was aware that although the saying here seemed to be Make yourself at home, there were certain areas of home that were off-limits.

Why?

His instincts were kicking in again. There was something askew with this picture. But what? For a sick moment he wondered if these guys were involved in a modern piracy ring, if they hadn’t acquired the yacht illegally. Then again, if a vessel like this had gone missing, he would have heard about it. The members of the club had associates all over the world as well, and the theft of a craft like the Sea Serpent wouldn’t have gone unnoted.

So much for his instincts. On the one hand, he was convinced that Keith, back onshore, would never cause the least danger to the people Ben loved. And on the other hand…

“C’mon,” Lee urged. “Come see the fish finder on this beauty. We’ll be hauling in our dinner at turbo speed.”

Amanda disentangled herself from Ben, yawning. “You know, I was thinking maybe I’d take a little snooze.” She laughed softly, looking at Ben. “We were all awakened in the middle of the night,” she reminded them.

“No way,” Lee protested. “We’re striking out to sea, all for one and one for all. Everyone topside!”

Amanda pouted prettily. She would have spoken again, Ben was certain, except that Lee was striding toward them, ready to herd them all up, as if he were a friendly sheepdog keeping the masses together.

He wondered if he was just creating a sense of something that wasn’t there, more spooked by Beth’s unease than he’d realized.

She was worse than he was, worrying about Amber, worrying about him, spending the majority of her time at work. For most young women, the club would be a smorgasbord of rugged, tanned, athletic professional men. But not for Beth, who didn’t date where she worked. It was as if she was oblivious.

Tall, tanned, perfectly fit in a feminine way—stacked—with her dark hair and exotic eyes, she was probably the greatest catch on the island. But even here, she was proving adept at keeping her distance.

“You’re mean,” Amanda teased Lee, and clasping his arm, a pretty moue on her face. “I’m just so sleepy.”

“I’ll set you up on deck. You’ll love it,” Lee assured her.

At that moment Ben knew for a fact that his suspicions were correct.

No one, for any reason, was going to be left in the cabin alone.

So just what were they up to?

“SHH!”

Beth found the sound absurdly reassuring. Though she couldn’t see the man whose hand was on her mouth, she knew it was Keith Henson. Was it the feel of him? A certain chemistry? It didn’t matter. She just knew.

She felt his other hand spanning the bare flesh of her midriff. He was tense but no longer forceful, and the hand on her mouth eased, then moved away. She could feel the thud of both his heart and her own.

As they stood there, silent, strangely bonded, Brad and Sandy appeared in the clearing.

And Brad was the one wielding the machete.

It was a wicked-looking weapon, and yet…boaters planning to put ashore on an island might readily have one. In fact, he was using it for the exact purpose one might expect in such a circumstance—chopping away at the heavy growth.

“I think it was here,” Sandy said wearily.

“Here is an awfully damn big space,” Brad said irritably.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a small island.”

“Way too small, at the moment. We should have realized. It’s a weekend.”

“Should we just quit moaning and start looking?”

Beth adjusted her footing ever so slightly. Behind her, Keith did likewise. He seemed to have no intention of letting her go, accosting the pair or letting his own presence be known. She could feel the coiled tension in him. He was listening intently.

Were they looking for a skull?

And if Keith Henson didn’t know about the skull, why would he be so worried about a young couple searching a clearing on the island?

She turned slightly, looking up at him as Brad hacked away at overhanging fronds and branches. He shook his head, warning her that she shouldn’t move, shouldn’t give herself away.

A fly buzzed near her nose. She began to wonder just how long she could stand so perfectly still. Yet, her own heart continued to race, and her suspicions were hiked to the limit, every fiber of her being attuned to danger.

“I hear something,” Sandy announced suddenly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Brad told her.

“No, no, I hear something. From the beach.”

“They’re fishing.”

“They’re not all fishing.”

“So what? We’re just walking around the island.”

“I don’t like this, Brad. Let’s go back.”

“Are you scared?”

“You bet.” She looked at him pleadingly. “Come on, they all have jobs. They’ll have to get back to work in a couple of days. The island will be all ours again. Please, let’s just get out of here for now.”

Brad let out a long sigh. Then he slipped his arms around her, letting the machete dangle.

“Ooh, nice sword,” Sandy teased.

“You bet, baby.”

He started to kiss her. Then, with his free hand, to fondle her.

Beth held her breath, feeling acutely uncomfortable. She could still feel the hand on her own midriff, and watching these two get more and more intimate…

I thought you were scared, Sandy! she longed to shout.

Then things got worse.

“Want to really fool around?” Brad whispered.

“Maybe.”

“Then you won’t be scared? Worried about getting caught?”

“There’s something kind of exciting about it,” Sandy whispered in return. Her hand slid from his chest.

Lower. Lower.

Beth could feel her cheeks flaming to a bright pink.

“Then again…I should be punishing you,” Sandy said huskily. “You were all over the blonde today.”

“The blonde was all over me today,” Brad protested.

“You didn’t seem to mind.”

“Hey…she was determined to let me know she was full-bodied.”

“You and every other guy there.”

“Um, true, but you shouldn’t let her worry you.”

“No,” Sandy agreed. “It’s the other one I’m worried about. You were looking at her.”

“I was looking at her?”

“Yeah, you know. Looking.”

“Well, she is really sexy. Legs that go on forever. Imagine what she could do with those legs.”

Beth could feel the flames deepen in her cheeks, and she imagined that Keith had to be aware of it, too. She couldn’t stand much more of this. Self-preservation had kept her silent so far. Embarrassment might well send her flying from cover.

“Hey,” Sandy protested.

“Am I turning you on yet?” Brad demanded.

“Seriously…I keep hearing something.”

“What happened to the idea of being caught in the act of being so hot and sexy?”

“Those girls are underage.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, the last thing we need now is to be arrested for contributing to the delinquency of a minor,” Sandy said.

“Good point,” Brad agreed seriously. But then he quickly returned to his lighter tone. “Hey…the tent is exotic and hot, you know.”

“So let’s get back to the beach—please! In a couple of days, they’ll all leave. It will be our island again, Brad. Then we can take care of things.”

At last the two of them left, disappearing across the clearing, taking the same trail Beth had used.

Behind her, Keith remained still for what seemed like an aeon. It was all she could do to keep from wrenching away. And yet he was right—they needed to let Sandy and Brad put some distance between them.

Finally, however, she could stand it no longer. He was still touching her, his hand still on her midriff, her body backed flush against his.

She stepped away and turned, staring at him, tense and wary.

“What was that all about?” she demanded.

His eyes were as dark as ebony. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, but his eyes still gave no clue of what thoughts lurked in his mind.

“Shh,” he warned her.

“They’re gone,” she reminded him.

“The trees may well have ears,” he said quietly, studying her.

She lowered her voice. “What were they looking for?” she demanded.

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you accost them?”

“Do you really think it’s a great idea to accost a man carrying a machete?” he cross-queried.

“But…” She shook her head. “Now we’ll never know what they were doing.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

She backed away another step, frowning. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking.”

“Looking for what?” she demanded sharply.

He leaned back against a tree, crossing his arms over his chest. “Whatever you were trying to hide when we met.”

Startled, she hesitated, then came back at him far too late. “Don’t be ridiculous. I wasn’t hiding anything.”

“Then I wasn’t really looking for anything, was I?”

She let out a sigh of irritation and started to turn away. Then she swung back and collided with him once again. Embarrassed, she braced her hands against his chest and regained her footing quickly.

“Why aren’t you out fishing?” she demanded. “I thought you went out on the boat.”

“Obviously I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“There was a full crew.”

“But you snuck around to come back here,” she accused him.

“I didn’t sneak anywhere.”

“Then why didn’t I see you before?”

“Probably because you weren’t paying any attention. There was no secret about me staying behind. I didn’t jump off the boat when no one was looking and swim back.”

She stared at him, shaking her head. “There’s something wrong with you.”

That brought a wry smile to his lips. “I’m not exactly sure how you mean that, but…You should certainly hope not. You’re alone with me on an island, and all help is far away.”

She took a step back again.

He sighed, reaching for her. She jumped; he let his arm fall, shaking his head.

“I’m going to give you some advice, whether you want it or not. Stay away from this area of the island. Obviously it’s of interest to someone, and we don’t know why. Keep your mouth shut about seeing Sandy and Brad looking around here. In fact, if you have any suspicions about anyone, pretend that you don’t.”

She narrowed her eyes, staring at him hard. “Someone might have been killed here.”

“And you wouldn’t want to join them.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Good God, no. It’s a warning.”

“Right. And you should be trusted?”

“Actually, yes.”

She studied him long and hard. He was a man in the prime of his life, muscled and hard. She was suddenly certain that, if he had chosen, he could have wrenched the machete away from Brad without breaking a sweat.

To her discomfort, she also remembered the strength with which he had held her.

She spun around, striding for the trail.

He caught her arm, swinging her back. She didn’t open her mouth to protest, only narrowed her eyes at him in serious warning, arching her brows slowly as she gazed from his eyes to the place where his hand rested on her arm.

“I was serious. Keep your mouth shut.”

“You know something, so you’d better be planning on talking to the police,” she warned him.

“If I knew something, I wouldn’t need to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations.”

“I think we should call the police.”

“And tell them what?” he demanded.

She faltered. “That…that…”

“That there might have been a skull on the island? That a young couple was scrounging around, looking for something? So far, they haven’t done a thing that’s illegal. And so far, you haven’t got anything at all to tell the police. Guess what? You need to get your nose out of it. You need to keep your mouth shut and pretend that you haven’t seen a single thing on this island.”

“You are threatening me.”

“I’m not the threat!” he protested angrily. “But just maybe there is a threat out there.”

“Then we need to stop them. Now.”

“There’s this little thing called the law. You think you can just tie up Sandy and Brad and call the Coast Guard, and they’ll arrest them for acting in what you’ve decided is a suspicious manner?”

She felt herself flush. He was still holding her. She swallowed, strangely far more afraid now than she had been at any time before. Odd, it felt far too good, especially under the circumstances. She wanted to close her eyes. Lean against him. Let the moment go on. She loathed the concept of basic instinct, but she realized that she was feeling one right then. There was something so right about feeling his touch. She told herself it was just because she hadn’t so much as dated in a very long time, but inside she knew it was because she had simply never felt anything so right.

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