When She Was Bad...

She would, Pepper decided. But right now, she was thinking about the boy who’d had to fit in with more families than she could imagine.

Cole took her hand and drew her to her feet. “While we’re waiting for your whiz-kid brother to work his magic, I have an idea about what we can do to pass the time.”

“So do I,” she said. “I’ll race you to the cave.” Then she dove into the lagoon.

10

Friday, February 13—8:30 p.m.

PEPPER GLANCED AT herself in the mirror that filled one wall of the small room. She was dressing for a date with Cole Buchanan, and for some reason the idea had nerves tangling in her stomach.

Cole had proposed the idea when they’d been sailing back from the lagoon. After all, he’d argued, they really hadn’t gone out on an official first date yet, and since they were going to “accidentally” bump into Evan and Jean Claude at the poolside café, why not combine their sleuthing activities with a date?

Cole had overcome her one objection that she didn’t have anything to wear by escorting her to one of the shops that opened off the main lobby of the hotel and placing her in the capable hands of Gari’s friend Reynaldo.

The small trim man who’d given her a quick tour of his shop was the polar opposite of Gari. While Gari radiated charm and enthusiasm, Reynaldo was soft-spoken, astute, and totally focused on business. His shop offered an array of exclusive designer merchandise, from dresses and shoes to cosmetics. There was even a glass display case totally devoted to jewelry from Cartier. Sometime during her tour, Cole had disappeared.

A knock at the dressing room door had her turning as Reynaldo stepped into the room.

“Why don’t we start with these sarong dresses? They’re all made by craftsmen here on the island.” Reynaldo wore his long, dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and in place of the island uniform of white shorts and blue flowered shirt, he wore impeccably pressed white trousers and a short-sleeved navy silk shirt. In spite of his small stature, the man managed to radiate the authority of a five-star general.

Pepper glanced at the selection of sarongs he was holding. “They’re all so beautiful. But…this is not what I usually wear.”

The look he gave her held understanding. “I hear you. I worked in New York for several years, and I’m still getting used to the more informal attire of the island. But you have an advantage. You’re only going to be here for a short while. You don’t have to make a permanent change. A visit to Escapade Island is the perfect opportunity to try something different and—shall we say a bit wild?”

Try something different and a bit wild? Pepper swallowed a nervous laugh. That’s exactly what she was doing, wasn’t it? Only it wasn’t just a sarong she was trying on—it was Cole Buchanan. And it was only temporary.

Instead of relaxing her, the thought had a band of pain tightening around her heart. Her time with Cole Buchanan was running out. Tonight might not only be their first date. It might very well be their last.

Turning her so that she faced the mirror, Reynaldo held two sarong dresses in front of her. One was splashed with the red flowers she’d seen blooming everywhere on the island. She could imagine the slave girl Elena wearing it. The other sarong was plain white.

And Cole had remembered the white linen dress she’d worn the first time they’d met.

“White is definitely your color,” Reynaldo said.

“Yes.” It was her color, and if it was going to be her first and last date with Cole she wanted to be herself tonight.

“Try it on,” Reynaldo commanded. Then, as quickly as he’d entered the room, he left.

After discarding her jeans and T-shirt, she slipped into the sarong. Then she stared at herself in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was not the Pepper Rossi she knew.

“If you’re decent, I’d like to take a peek,” Reynaldo said from outside the slatted door.

“Come in.” Decent wasn’t exactly the word she would have chosen to describe what she looked like. Pepper wasn’t even sure she was going for decent. The dress certainly wasn’t. She would have called the look provocative. She’d never worn anything like it.

“Turn,” Reynaldo commanded.

Pepper did what he asked. The thin material of the sarong hugged her breasts and waist before it draped over her thighs to just above her knees. On the side where it tied, a good half of her thigh was revealed.

No, this wasn’t something that Pepper Rossi would have worn. But then she’d never before dressed with the sole purpose of pleasing a man.

Reynaldo clasped his hands together and for the first time the serious expression faded from his face, and he smiled. “Exquisite. Simply exquisite. Your man is going to be smitten. You look like a goddess.”

Pepper frowned. “I’m not going for goddess. I’m going for me.”

Reynaldo’s eyes widened and gestured toward her image in the mirror. “But that is you. Look.”

Pepper did what he asked. She looked sophisticated and together, with a hint of the unexpected. Straightening her shoulders, she drew in a deep breath and studied her image more closely. Cole had said that if she quit hiding behind masks, she might discover qualities in herself that she would like. Could this be what she looked like when those masks were peeled away?

“You need shoes.” Reynaldo’s tone had turned brisk and businesslike again. “Contessas might be able to go barefoot, but never goddesses. What size?”

“Six,” Pepper said.

“I have just the thing.” Whirling, he sped out of the room.

Pepper studied her image in the mirror. Goddesses were always confident, she supposed. And it would be an interesting break from the slave girl fantasy. What would it be like to make love with Cole if she pretended to be a goddess?

No. Pepper slammed the brakes on her wandering thoughts. She wasn’t going there. The whole idea of this “first date” was that they were going to be themselves and get to know each other. Besides, if this was to be her last night with Cole, she wanted him to remember her.

Last night. She pressed her hand against her chest to ease the ache around her heart as she thought of that. But they’d made a deal that they’d enjoy this time together on the island. And then it was over.

A chime sounded, indicating that someone was coming into the shop. It was probably Cole, she thought. And she wasn’t ready. Through the slats in the door, she heard Reynaldo welcoming customers. “Mr. Atwell, Mr. Rambeau, so nice to see you again. How can I be of help?”

Evan and Jean Claude. Whirling, she peered through the slats.

“The diamond-and-gold cuff links,” Jean Claude said.

Reynaldo used his key on the display case, and handed them to Jean Claude. “They’re lovely, aren’t they?”

“Exquisite,” Jean Claude murmured, holding them up to the light. “Don’t you agree, Evan?”

“They’re too expensive,” Evan said.

She couldn’t see the expression on Evan’s face, but his tone was less enthusiastic than Jean Claude’s.

“How much are they?” Evan asked Reynaldo.

“Ten thousand,” Reynaldo said. “The diamonds are a carat each and they’re flawless. They’re by a young Italian designer.”

“Do you like them?” Jean Claude asked Evan.

“Yes, but I think we should wait. We don’t know yet—”

Jean Claude put a hand on Evan’s arm. “You bought the ring for me yesterday, and I saw you looking at these. Indulge me and let me buy these for you as a Valentine’s Day gift.”

“Yes. Okay,” Evan agreed.

Jean Claude turned to Reynaldo. “Wrap them. And put them on the room tab.”

“But of course,” Reynaldo murmured as he hurried to another counter.

Pepper’s nerves knotted when Jean Claude drew Evan closer to the dressing room door.

“You worry too much,” Jean Claude said in a soft voice.

“We haven’t closed the deal yet,” Evan said.

“We will. Relax.”

“Here you are, Mr. Rambeau.”

Pepper watched the two men turn in unison and walk back to the counter. After taking the package, they left the shop. Her mind raced. What was the deal that they hadn’t yet closed? Was it with Butch?

The sinking feeling in her stomach had her thinking that her suspicion was dead on. Did they have the Monet and were they in the process of selling it to Butch? But they hadn’t mentioned the painting. And she still didn’t want to think that Evan was involved in stealing his own painting.

The knock on her door had her jumping. Then Reynaldo stepped into the dressing room, a box in his hands. “Wait till you see. In these, you can dance until dawn. Sit.”

She did what he asked and then watched as he pulled a red velvet bag out of the box and extracted a pair of white sandals. Then he dropped to one knee and extended his hand. “Your foot.”

She gave it to him. The heels on the sandal were impossibly high, the straps thin, and when she spotted the designer name on the bottom of one shoe, she had to swallow hard. The price tag was going to be four figures. Not even when she was a Pendleton had she bought that particular brand. “You must have some very rich guests staying here.”