When She Was Bad...

Evan said nothing, but she could see that he was thinking about what she’d said.

“When I get back to San Francisco, I’m going to give the Rossis a chance to see me for what I am. And I’m going to see what kind of a contribution I can make to Rossi Investigations. They may not like me any more than my grandmother did, but I’m going to give them a chance to get to know the real me.”

Evan turned his hand and gripped her fingers hard. “What if they can’t accept you for what you are?”

“What if they can? I don’t want to miss out on that. And you don’t want to either.”

Evan drew in a deep breath. “You make it sound so easy.”

She shook her head. “Believe me, it’s not. But there’s one thing that we both have if things get rocky.”

“What?”

She smiled at him. “We’ve got a good friend to talk to about it.”

“NOW WHY DO I GET the feeling that I’m not getting the whole story?” Luke asked.

Cole bit back a grin and sat down on one of the lounge chairs that dotted Butch’s veranda. Stretching out his legs and crossing his ankles, he let the silence stretch for a minute. He could picture his old friend sitting behind his desk, his blond hair tousled from running his hand through it, his fingers working magic on his computer. Cole wasn’t a bit surprised that Luke Rossi wasn’t completely buying the story they’d manufactured.

“This is the Caribbean,” Cole finally said. “The criminal justice system works a little differently down here.”

“Bullshit.” Luke’s tone was amiable, and this time Cole did grin as his friend continued. “The thing I’m still trying to figure out is how my sister beat you down there, and why you didn’t mention her before.”

“She swore me to secrecy,” Cole said easily. Leave it to Luke to zero in on the weakest part of the story. “But she was the one who had a line on LeBlanc. She didn’t know his name, of course, but she found out the name he was using when he crashed Evan’s party.” Of course, LeBlanc hadn’t crashed the party. He’d been on the roof waiting to steal the painting. But Luke wouldn’t have any way of knowing that. “She was the one who swiped the glass and lifted his fingerprints. I don’t think that you have a Pepper Problem anymore. She’s going to be a real asset to the firm.”

“Really? And you say she rappelled down from the roof, broke into LeBlanc’s suite and stole the painting right out from under his nose—while you sat around twiddling your thumbs?”

“There are witnesses,” Cole said. “You can talk to Butch Castellano. He owns the place and he saw everything.”

“Okay, I give up. But one day I’ll figure out the true story.”

Cole laughed then. He had no doubt Luke would do just that. There was no one who was better at tracking down the truth than Luke Rossi.

“So when are you going to be back here with the painting?”

Cole let his glance stray to the living room of the mansion where Pepper was holding Evan’s hand. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to her since they’d sorted things out in Atwell’s suite. Their time on the island had just about run out. He could hear each minute slipping away in his mind.

“Cole?”

Luke’s voice drew him back to the conversation.

“I’ll be leaving here within the hour. I’ve already called the airport and told them to gas up the plane I chartered. Tell Mrs. Atwell her painting will be back in plenty of time for the auction.”

“I’ll do that.”

“And tell her that she has Pepper Rossi to thank for it.”

“I’ll do that, too.”

As he hung up his phone, Happy joined him on the veranda.

“Looks like we’re the odd men out,” Happy said.

“Yes, it does.” On the outside looking in, Cole thought and he remembered Pepper’s reference to Jane Eyre and Heathcliff.

“I don’t think I ever had a chance with Irene,” Happy said. “But I’d say you have an excellent chance with Pepper.”

Did he? Cole said nothing. The time for their island “deal” had almost run out. And part of the agreement had been that when they got back to San Francisco they’d go back to the way things had been between them. The one thing he knew for certain was that he couldn’t allow that to happen. Ever since LeBlanc had been carted off, he’d been trying to come up with the right strategy. Everything depended on the right plan. And so far his mind was a blank.

“A man like you, I bet you’ve got a plan.”

He’d always had one before. “I thought I might give her some time. I’ve rushed her and pushed her into something that she might be having second thoughts about.”

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Later, he would think how odd it was that it was there on the veranda, talking to Happy and watching Pepper take Evan’s hand in hers that he finally was able to say it out loud. Yes, he was in love with Pepper Rossi. He’d probably fallen in love with her the first time he’d seen that picture that Luke carried around in his wallet. What in hell was he going to do about it?

Happy patted his hand. “Life’s short. It gets even shorter when you get to be my age. Don’t wait too long to tell her.”

“She’s going to need some time with her aunt. And I have to get the Monet back to San Francisco.” Maybe he could think of a plan on the long flight across the continent. And then he’d approach her in San Francisco. With his head still spinning, Cole turned to the man beside him. “What are you going to do?”

Happy grinned at him. “Butch is gassing up his private launch, and I understand that one of his men is going to give me a personal escort. He’s not taking any chances where Irene is concerned. Can’t say I blame him. I have five days left of my vacation package on Eden. I still might find someone, not that she’d hold a candle to Irene.”

As Happy spoke, Irene came into the room, her hand in Butch’s. Cole didn’t hear what she said, but it caused Pepper to leap up from the couch and throw her arms around her aunt in a fierce hug.

They’d have a lot to talk about, he mused. And he had a job to do. Turning, he walked off the veranda and headed toward the car he’d driven from the hotel.

18

Saturday, February 14—11:50 a.m.

“TO HAPPY ENDINGS,” Irene said as she raised her champagne flute in a toast.

As Pepper raised hers, she realized that Cole wasn’t in the room. The last time she’d seen him he’d been on the veranda talking to Luke on the phone.

“If you’re looking for Cole, he told me that he was going to take the Monet back to San Francisco,” Happy said.

A mix of panic and anger streamed through her. “Thanks,” she murmured to Happy as she moved toward H.

“I need to get to the airport,” she said. “Cole’s on his way there. He’s on his way back to San Francisco.”

“If you want, I can make sure he doesn’t take off,” H said.

She glanced at him. “You’d take him on? He’s ex-CIA.”

For the first time since she’d met him, H smiled at her. “I wasn’t thinking of anything quite that dramatic. I’ll just call the control tower and make sure his charter isn’t cleared for takeoff.”

“Thanks.” When they stepped out the door, Pepper stopped short and stared as Cole’s sporty red convertible pulled into a parking space at the end of the long driveway.

“Looks like he’s changed his mind,” H murmured, then moved back into the house.

Pepper watched as Cole climbed out of the car and started toward her. Relief and anxiety slammed into her as she tried to gather her thoughts. Their time on the island was up, and they were going to have to talk about what came next.

Panic bubbled up. On the surface, he seemed all wrong for her. That much hadn’t changed. He was patient; she wasn’t. He was a planner; she almost always relied on instinct. She wished, oh how hard she wished, that she was a better planner right now. But she was going to handle this. Because she knew. She started walking toward him.

She recalled the conversation she’d had with Irene on the night that her aunt had stolen the Monet for the first time. “I knew the first time I looked at Butch that he was the only man for me.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the gazebo in the garden that H had mentioned. Elena had probably known that about Adam, too.

Cole Buchanan was the only man for her. She’d known it the first time she’d seen him, and it had scared her to death. Wasn’t that part of the reason that she’d tried so hard to compete with him? Why she’d tried to avoid him? And why she’d agreed so readily to the twenty-four-hour deal he’d offered her?

She was only about ten feet away from him when she realized that not only didn’t she have a plan, she couldn’t even think of anyone to pretend to be. And she had no idea what was going to come out of her mouth.