The Borrowed Ring

“Afternoon, Mrs. Andreas.”

She nodded. “Bernard.”

“Mr. Drake went all out to make sure you'll have a nice picnic. Chef's packed a real special meal for you.”

“How thoughtful.” B.J. allowed Daniel to help her onto the sleek cruiser, where she settled on a deep-cushioned seat. Daniel sat beside her, and Bernard took the controls, nodding to a brown-skinned teenager who stood by to assist them in casting off.

&nbsp

; The cruise took half an hour, and B.J. had to admit the time passed pleasantly. Daniel stretched his long legs out comfortably, one of his arms slung casually behind her. She enjoyed being on the water. Unconcerned about her tossing hair, she held on to her sunglasses and turned her face into the brisk, salty breeze.

The island was as pretty as a calendar page. Bernard docked the boat at a pier marked with bold signs marked Private Property: No Trespassing.

Beyond a stretch of clean, inviting beach, a picnic pavilion had been nestled into the landscaping. Covered by a picturesque thatched roof, the shelter had three open sides that could be closed off from weather by roll-down awnings. Kitchen facilities had been built into the back wall—an enormous grill, a sink and preparation and serving counters, beneath which were cabinets presumably holding supplies. Two doors marked with male and female silhouettes indicated restrooms at either end of the wall.

The stone floor looked recently swept, so apparently the pavilion received regular maintenance, perhaps daily. Two large teak picnic tables and several teak lounge chairs provided seating for more than a dozen people. Tiki torches surrounded the shelter to provide illumination for evening parties, and party lights were strung inside the pavilion ceiling.

“There's electricity?” B.J. asked in surprise.

“By way of large generators, back behind the shelter,” Bernard explained. “They aren't on right now, since you and Mr. Andreas won't be needing electricity for your picnic. The restrooms have skylights that will provide all the illumination you need for daytime use.”

Setting an enormous hamper on one of the tables, he then handed Daniel a key on a large yellow holder. “This opens all the cabinets and the restroom doors. We keep them locked because sometimes trespassers make use of the island despite the signs, but we send patrols out enough to keep it from being a big problem. You'll find seat cushions and anything else you might need in the cabinets. Make yourselves comfortable while you're here.”

Daniel set a covered plastic box of picnic supplies on the table next to the hamper. “Will you be joining us for dinner?”

B.J. was relieved when Bernard shook his bald head. “I'll be back to collect you later. Mr. Drake wants you to have a relaxing meal—just the two of you.”

B.J. was relieved that Bernard was leaving, but the thought of being alone on Drake's island with Daniel didn't make her overly comfortable, either. Especially after the kisses they had shared the last time they were alone on a beach together.

Watching the cruiser disappear into the distance, B.J. turned back to Daniel with a forced smile. “How do you suppose Drake ended up with this island?”

Daniel shrugged. “Who knows? He claimed he often hosts parties here for celebrities wanting to get away from the paparazzi. Other times—like today—he has guests come over just to spend a day relaxing and enjoying a few hours away from cell phones and computers. During the height of tourist season, he said the island is reserved nearly every day. It's even a popular wedding site.”

Looking around at the trees and birds and flowers and beach, B.J. had no doubt that Drake's island had a steady stream of visitors who longed to get away from ringing phones and beeping computers.

Because that subject seemed to have been exhausted, she moved toward the picnic hamper. “Let's see what's in this thing. I'm starving.”

Daniel chuckled, though she thought he sounded distracted. “You're always hungry.”

“Pretty much. I'm lucky I have the Walker metabolism. The Samples family tend to be somewhat stockier. My brother takes after that side. There's no fat on him because he's totally into sports and running, but he's more broad-shouldered and squarely built than the Walkers.” Not that Daniel cared about any of this information, of course. She was just babbling nervously.

Yet he proved that he had been paying attention by asking, “And what about your sister? Seems like I remember her being pretty slender.”

“Dawne has the kind of figure that makes men walk into walls,” B.J. replied matter-of-factly. “I guess she got the best of the Walkers and the Samples.”

“As did you.”

She hadn't been fishing for a compliment. Opening the picnic hamper, she began to dig busily inside, changing the subject again. “Wow. This thing is packed.”

Daniel had been standing rather stiffly, staring at the water in the direction in which Bernard had disappeared. He seemed to give himself a mental shake and turned then to assist her. “Hang on. I'll get the seat cushions out of the storage cabinets.”

She watched as he placed brightly colored cushions on the picnic benches and lounge chairs. A bit more digging produced a pile of straw mats, two of which Daniel arranged at opposite sides of the table.

Having watched him with a frown, B.J. asked, “Daniel, what's wrong? You've been acting oddly ever since Bernard left.”

“Sorry. Guess I'm just distracted.”

“You aren't still angry that I talked with Kurt earlier, are you?” Because if he was, she intended to make it clear that—