the cause of it, none of it casting the Casillas brothers in a favourable light.
Let them be the ones to deal with it, Chloe thought defiantly, shoving her beach bag over her shoulder and slipping on her sparkly flip-flops. She was safe here in the Bahamas and her brother was safely cocooned with Freya in his chateau.
Leaving the tranquillity of the complex for only the third time since her arrival a week ago, she spent an enjoyable fifteen minutes strolling in the early-morning sun to Port Lucaya, very much looking forward to a day of island hopping on the complex owner’s yacht.
The invitation had been hand delivered by the manager the evening before, the man explaining it was an excursion the owner provided for favoured guests whenever she visited. A guest had been taken ill so the invitation was Chloe’s if she wanted it. Thinking she couldn’t come to much harm if it was a woman hosting the event—she’d read too many horror stories about young women and rich men on yachts to have been comfortable with it being run by a rich male stranger—she had been delighted to accept. She couldn’t spend a fortnight in the Bahamas hiding away.
Chloe liked to keep busy. She liked to be with people. Being alone with only her thoughts for company meant too much time to think. Better to let the past stay where it was by always looking forward and keeping her mind busy and her life full.
She found the port easily, the pristine yachts lined up in the small bay an excellent giveaway. Opposite it was the Port Lucaya Marketplace she’d heard so much about and which she had promised herself a visit to. Looking at the quaint colourful tourist trap bustling with life and exotic scents brought a big smile to her face. She would go there tomorrow.
Turning her attention back to the yachts, Chloe scanned them carefully, looking for the one named Marietta. Her excitement rose when she finally located it. At least four decks high, the Marietta was the biggest and most luxurious-looking of the lot. Not quite cruise-ship size, it looked big enough to accommodate dozens of guests with room to spare.
But where was everyone? The metal walkway for passengers to board had been lowered but she saw and heard none of the sounds and sights you would expect of a large party going off on an all-inclusive day trip.
As she hesitated over whether to step onto the walkway, a figure wearing what she assumed was captain attire appeared on deck.
‘Good morning,’ he said, approaching her with a welcoming smile. ‘Miss Guillem?’
She nodded.
‘I am Captain Andrew Brand. Let me show you in. I’ll give you the mandatory safety talk as we go.’
Chloe joined him on the gleaming yacht with a grin that only got wider as he showed off the magnificent vessel, pointing out the bar, swimming pool and hot tub on the next deck up, then taking her inside.
This yacht had everything, she thought in awe as she tried her hardest to pay attention to what she was being shown and told.
After showing her the Finnish sauna that had a window looking straight out to sea, he took her to the top deck to what was appropriately named ‘the sky lounge’ and left her with a young woman with tightly curled hair who made her a cocktail of coconut blended with mango and rum and served it in the coconut shell with a straw. This stretched Chloe’s smile so wide her mouth must have reached her ears. She enjoyed it so much she readily accepted a second, then took a seat on one of the plentiful cappuccino-coloured leather seats encircling the lounge.
She gazed out of one of the many windows, imagining the spectacular view of the stars at night from this wonderful vantage point, and hoped she would be lucky enough to experience it for herself. The estimated finish time of the day’s excursion had been vague.
Which reminded her that she still seemed to be the only guest.
And where had the barwoman gone?
Unease crawling through her, Chloe opened her beach bag to search for her phone.
Just as her fingers closed on it, a tall figure stepped into the lounge.
Although the figure was only in the periphery of her vision, it was enough for her stomach to roil and ice to plunge into her veins.
Feeling very much like a teenager watching a horror movie and wishing she could cover her eyes to hide from the scary bit, she slowly turned her head.
And there he stood, filling the space around him like a dark, menacing shadow, a grim smile on his face.
Luis.
‘Hello, bonita. It is a pleasure to see you again.’
LUIS FELT IMMENSE satisfaction to read the horror in Chloe’s baby-blue eyes.
‘Nothing to say?’ he taunted. ‘I have travelled a long way to see you, bonita. I would have thought that deserved an enthusiastic welcome.’
Those wonderful pillowy lips he’d fantasised about kissing parted then snapped shut as she swallowed, shock clearly rendering her dumb.
‘You’re not normally this shy.’ He folded his arms across his chest and stroked his jaw. ‘Is it delight at seeing me that has struck you mute?’
Her wonderfully graceful throat moved, colour creeping over her cheeks. ‘What...? How...?’
‘Is that the best you can come up with?’ He shook his head with mock incredulity.
She blinked rapidly and blew in and out. ‘I’ve been set up.’
‘The sun hasn’t damaged your observation skills, I see.’
The baby-blue eyes stared straight into his. ‘You bastard.’
‘If we are moving straight to the name-calling, I have a select number of insults I can apply to you. Which shall I start with?’
‘Forget it.’ Hooking her large bag over her shoulder, she got to her feet. ‘Let’s not waste time. Say what you need to say. I have a holiday to enjoy.’
He gazed at the long legs now fully on display, only the top half of her supple thighs covered by the tight blue denim shorts she wore. Dios, for a She-Devil she had the most amazing body. Beauty, heavy breasts covered in a red T-shirt, a slim waist and a pert bottom...he defied any red-blooded heterosexual man out there not to fantasise about bedding her.
‘My apologies,’ he said sardonically. ‘I didn’t realise you were on a holiday. I thought you had run away.’
‘No, it’s definitely a holiday. Sun, sea, pina coladas and hot men.’ She smiled as she listed the latter, a jibe he knew perfectly well was intended to cut at him. ‘Getting far away from you was an added incentive but not the main consideration.’
‘Would your brother have paid for you to holiday in the Bahamas if you hadn’t agreed to do his dirty work?’ The booking for her flights and villa had been paid for personally by Benjamin.
‘Au contraire,’ she said, switching from English to her native French. Between them they spoke each other’s
