Roarke grinned. “Ah,” he said. “An hour. That’s just about right.”
The housekeeper put her hands on her hips. “Twenty minutes, señor.”
“Constancia! How can I show Señorita Hamilton the most glorious sunset in the world in so short a time?”
Jennifer laughed. “An hour? To watch the sun set?”
“Do you see how little the woman knows of sunsets?” he said as he took Jennifer’s hand. “One hour, Constancia. Not a second more. I promise.”
The housekeeper smiled. “One hour,” she said, “and perhaps I will even grant you five minutes beyond that. The sunset on our island deserves it.”
* * *
It took no time at all to realize why it was going to take an hour to watch the sun set on Isla de la Pantera.
Roarke described it as a solemn old custom, although within minutes it was easy to see that whatever customs were involved were being invented, right on the spot.
They stopped first in the library, where he pulled off his jacket and tie and dumped them over the back of a chair.
“All right,” he said, peering into the depths of a handsome mahogany wall unit that opened to reveal a drinks cabinet. “We’ll need provisions for our trip.”
Jennifer laughed. “What are you talking about? What trip?”
“What do you think?” he said, ignoring her questions. “Rum? Gin? How about a piña colada? What’s your preference?”
“I’ve never had a piña whatever—”
“Colada.” He smiled at her as he took out a decanter of rum, then reached into a small refrigerator tucked discreetly into the base of the unit. “Pineapple juice, ice—now for the special Campbell magic.”
She watched, laughing, as he dumped things into a blender, then whirred them to a froth.
“There we are,” he said, pouring their drinks with a flourish. “Sustenance for our journey. Are you ready, Miss Hamilton?”
“I suppose so. But where are we going?”
Roarke smiled mysteriously as he handed her a chilled glass. “On the eternal quest,” he said. “We seek the perfect sunset.” He touched his glass lightly to hers. “And tonight, who knows? We may just find it.”
He took her hand in his and wove their fingers together as they made their way down the terrace and into the garden. A giant Sierra palm tree grew in its heart; by the time they reached it, its white-blossomed fruit spikes seemed to be tipped with the fire of the sun.
“The first stop on the Campbell tour,” Roarke said, nodding toward the towering tree. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s beautiful,” she said softly.
Their eyes met. There was a sudden silence, and then he tugged lightly on her hand. “Let’s go,” he said. “We’ve two more stops to make.”
Jennifer laughed. “Two more? But—”
“I know what you’re thinking. If we’re late, the show will go on without us.” He grinned. “Trust me. It wouldn’t dare.”
No, she thought, it wouldn’t. She couldn’t imagine anything or anyone deliberately disappointing this man.
“So, lift your glass to the Sierra palm. That’s it. Take a sip of your drink—good.” His fingers laced through hers again. “Okay. Next stop, the top of Panther Mountain.”
The mountain was really little more than a gentle slope that rose in the center of Isla de la Pantera. A narrow, grassy trail curved up to the top and by the time they reached what Roarke laughingly called the summit, the sun hung suspended over the sea, turning the high, puffy clouds that always floated over the island to crimson and gold.
“Oh, Roarke.” Jennifer’s voice was barely a whisper. “How beautiful.”
His arm slid around her shoulders. “I think I could live here for a thousand years and never grow tired of this view.” He pointed out across the sea with his glass. “In the fall, if you’re lucky, you can see the storms as they blow in across the Caribbean.”