Stuart tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, catching her attention, then looked pointedly toward the sky.
“I’m walking,” she said. “My mind’s made up.”
He didn’t look happy, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he mumbled “Whatever,” and nodded in the general direction of her cabana. “Just don’t get lost.” He tossed her a windbreaker from the back seat.
She caught it with one hand. “Thanks.”
“You won’t be thanking me if it rains. That thing will barely keep you dry.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Hey, the customer is always right,” he said, sliding the Jeep into gear, “even when the customer is soaking wet.”
He pulled out, and Kyra followed in the same direction until she could no longer see the restaurant behind her. Her cabana was on the west beach, and as soon as she saw the little wooden arrow pointing down the footpath, she turned off the main road.
The gravel walkway that wound toward her beach was lined with small footlights. A slight breeze had kicked up, and now the wind rustled through her skirt,causing it to flutter behind her as the stones crunched underneath her sandals.
Like the rest of the island, the nearby flora had been only slightly tamed. Native flowers lined the walk, and the glow from the recessed lights cast a magical tinge over the entire area.
Kyra followed the curving path, breathing in the tropical perfume, then ran her finger over a Bird of Paradise. The flower was aptly named. Certainly, this island was a paradise, and she had one entire week to enjoy it.
She intended to savor every luscious moment.
She walked along, her body absorbing the heady tropical beat, tuning in to the island’s sensual rhythms. In the distance, a flash of lightning ripped the sky, setting the trees and shrubs into eerie relief. Kyra jumped as a rumble of thunder followed. The air hung heavy, and she slipped the windbreaker on over her sundress.
After a while, the jungle-like foliage thinned, revealing the rear of her cabana and the peaceful spread of sand, now glowing under the fading light of the moon. The image was mystical, serene, and she remembered her first impression—a perfect place for a fantasy.
Once again, her mind turned to the adventure-filled fantasy Merrilee had mapped out for her—and the man she would share it with.
Who would he be? How would his hands feel? Strong and rough, or smooth and gentle? Would he touch her without invitation, taking what she gavewithout asking, but somehow knowing her innermost wishes? Or would he make her speak the words, urging her to reveal sensual secrets, things she’d never yet told a living soul.
Either way, he would be special. A man with whom she would have no secrets, but also no history. A man who would know everything about her, and yet know nothing. A man with whom she could lose herself, in whose arms she could forget her responsibilities, her worries, even her future.
As if in harmony with her thoughts, the air crackled, on the verge of releasing a thousand volts of untamed energy as wild as Kyra wanted to feel. Hoping to beat the storm, she hurried toward the back of her cabana. The world brightened as lightning again lit the sky—and something small, black and very fast scurried across the path right in front of her.
“Oh!” Kyra jumped, her hand to her chest. When her heart slowed, she realized it was just a cat, its green eyes glowing from below the broad leaves of a lush island plant.
“Well, hey there, baby.”
It hissed and backed up, eyes narrowed to slits. The sky lit up just long enough for Kyra to see the gash on its ear.
“Poor thing. Were you in a fight? Do you want some food?” The cabana had a well-stocked kitchenette. Surely there was some tuna fish in one of the cabinets.
Large drops splattered on the path, still far enoughapart that Kyra could practically dodge them. Soon, though, the rain would be coming down with a vengeance.
Above her, mountainous clouds rumbled, bits of light dancing through the billows. Despite the impending deluge, she got down on her knees and patted the ground in front of her. The kitty started toward her, but then, in the wake of another flash, turned around and ran up a nearby tree.
“Well, great.” She considered forgetting the whole thing and heading back to her cabana. Clearly the cat wasn’t looking for company.
But as she started to walk away, it started howling, its pitiful mewls drifting down from the tree’s top branches. Kyra tilted her head back and scowled. The cat looked totally stuck and determined not even to try to climb down. When the skies opened, the poor thing was going to get soaked unless Kyra managed to get it out of that tree.
With a frown, she aimed a longing glance toward her cozy cabana, then looked back up into the kitty’s eyes. “You’re going to owe me one, you know.”
The old Kyra would probably have run into the cabana to avoid the storm, then called island security or something to take care of the poor cat. The new Kyra, however…
Saving a kitty wasn’t going to earn her a spot on a Fox Network special about adventurous women, but maybe it was a start.
* * *
