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  “Did you pick up those things for me at the mall?” Juliette asked her twin. If her fiancé had been interested in planning a honeymoon instead of a political campaign and election, she’d have the wardrobe basics ready to go. But Stuart had insisted they couldn’t get away. Now she knew why.

  “Got ’em. I put them in the empty suitcase while you were on the phone earlier. And you’d be so proud of how I finagled that trip without being followed.” Gillian grinned, obviously pleased with herself.

  Juliette cringed. “I’m sure I don’t want to know. It seems everyone’s been making sacrifices to accommodate me these days.” She hated the high maintenance perception that was the result of this nightmare. First her stylist had agreed to do spiral curls and a haircut at her house, not wanting his salon inundated by the press, and now her sister was running around like an undercover spy—and loving every minute.

  “They’re not sacrifices, they’re favors. And we love you, so we don’t mind. But I hate that you’re stuck in the house and practically branded, you know?” Gillian tapped her foot impatiently against the hardwood floor. “Damn, I wish we could leak this story.” She shook her head. “But we can’t.”

  “Not yet. Dad’s established a long tradition of serving this country. He’s well liked and respected. He has a place in history he’s earned. No way I’ll let him go out tainted by scandal. He doesn’t deserve it.”

  Gillian nodded. “I agree.”

  For their father’s sake, the secret had to stay secret a little longer. Juliette drew a deep breath. “I’m ready.”

  “Okay.” Gillian rose from her seat and grabbed for a bag.

  “So let me get this plan straight. I drive your car dressed like you, while you sit in the passenger seat pretending to be me,” Juliette said.

  “So far so good.”

  “We drive past the reporters, to your apartment where the rest of the vultures are waiting, and pull into the secure underground garage.”

  Gillian nodded. “Right. Where they have no access.” Her laugh bordered on giddy at the thought of outwitting the press. “They think you’re visiting me and to reinforce the impression, I, dressed as you, go up to the lobby and out to the convenience store on the corner before heading back inside. They won’t be looking for us to go anywhere while we’re presumably hanging out together.”

  “Meanwhile I slip into the back seat of Dad’s car, driven by his chauffeur, cover myself with a blanket and end up at the airport.”

  “Exactly. And if anyone happens to see you, they’ll think you’re me. No one’s going to bother following me once I have no access to you. Voilà! You’re home free and on your way.”

  Juliette stretched her arms out wide. “Ready to begin a glorious week of fun, sun and solitude.”

  Her sister’s gaze darted from hers. “You got the first two right,” she muttered.

  Juliette narrowed her eyes. She’d grown up in the shadow of her daring, more adventurous twin and she knew Gillian better than she knew herself. The shifting eyeballs and muttering under her breath meant her sister was up to something. “What aren’t you telling me?” Juliette asked.

  “Not a blessed thing.” Gillian glanced at her watch. “You don’t want to miss your flight. We need to get going.”

  Juliette grabbed her suitcase. “Okay. And if I haven’t said it before because I was too busy complaining, I am touched you’d spend your savings on me—and I want to pay you back.” Although both girls had trust funds set up in their name from their grandmother’s will, neither lived off the interest or principal. Each chose to make their own way in the world, Juliette as a public relations consultant for a pharmaceutical company, Gillian as a teacher.

  “It’s not a gift if you pay me,” her sister reminded her. “Consider this my broken wedding gift to you.”

  Juliette squeezed her sister’s hand. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

  Gillian grinned. “Yeah, you are.”

  They made their way into the two-car garage attached to the old cottage Juliette rented, where Gillian had parked her car.

  “Promise me something?” Gillian asked. “It’s private on the island and if we’ve done this right, no cameras are following you, no press is around to ask questions. Let loose and be yourself, okay?”

  “You read my mind.” Juliette wasn’t surprised that the twin connection was at work again. She laughed, knowing she’d already decided to take advantage of this time to be free and experiment with who Juliette Stanton really was. She never should have fought Gillian’s attempt to get her to take a vacation. She settled herself into the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition and turned her wrist.

  “So,” she said over the rumble of the car’s motor. “Let the adventure begin.”

  ONE WEEK after his initial visit, Doug Houston stood in the luxurious open-air lobby of Secret Fantasy’s main building waiting for the object of his fantasy.

  His fantasy.

  Guilt swamped him over the thought of this whole damned trip and the charade he’d have to employ to get his story. Guilt wasn’t an emotion Doug was familiar with, especially when it came to getting the job done. But this job was too important to let something like unexpected feelings get in the way.

  He was at this resort tracking down Juliette Stanton, Chicago’s Runaway Bride, so he could dig up dirt on her ex-fiancé. And therein lay the source of his guilt. He could console himself with the fact that he wasn’t out to dig up dirt on her and in that, at least, he hadn’t lied to Merrilee.

  But Doug had a nagging feeling the reasons for Juliette’s run from the altar had everything to do with Doug’s recent troubles—and his journalist father had taught him never to ignore a burning gut. Treat it with antacids, maybe, but pay close attention. After the last fiasco, Doug damn well would.

  Doug wasn’t green and knew to be on the lookout for an unreliable source. Problem was he’d never thought to distrust so close to home and when his latest story had come crashing down around him he’d been taken off guard. His adopted father, a journalist and a man respected by all, had trained him to be the best. Yet Doug’s fall from grace had been swift and as public as his damning headline about Congressman Haywood’s meeting with a reputed Mob boss and the laundering of money through a supposed legitimate coffee business.

  The congressman was the business partner of Juliette Stanton’s fiancé, the man aspiring to her father’s senate seat. A man, Doug thought, who was just as corrupt as his partner. Doug still believed his story was true. He just didn’t have the proof he needed to back up his story or support his claim. Proof he was certain Juliette Stanton possessed.

  Doug ran a hand through his collar-length, windblown hair—another part of this charade. No haircut, no shave until after his time on the island was through. After he was certain Senator Stanton’s daughter wouldn’t recognize him from the more clean-cut picture in his Tribune column.

  A week on this tropical island wouldn’t be a hardship if his father wasn’t still in the hospital. Though he’d normally enjoy paradise, Doug had to follow up on this latest tip regarding Juliette and get the hell out. A tip he believed no one else had. And with some serious cash in the right hands he hoped to be the only one who knew Juliette had left town. The only one to spend an uninterrupted week alone with the Runaway Bride—once he got the final okay from Merrilee. She hadn’t thrown him off the island when he’d shown up in time to coincide with Juliette’s visit, but he knew he was on probation.

  He’d paid good money to an old military pal of his father’s to dig hard and deep until he broke Merrilee’s security system and came up with the information Doug needed—Juliette Stanton’s fantasy. And in the process, he’d discovered the woman was hurting and he’d been forced to accept some of the blame.

  No matter how he consoled himself with truth—that his fantasy would help Juliette Stanton forget her pain, and that he wasn’t out to hurt her—the fact remained, he was using another woman for information. Again.


  Doug had no choice.

  This story would reinstate him as the Tribune’s ace political reporter, a place he wanted desperately to be and not just because he’d worked damn hard for his professional reputation or because of an overblown ego. He could deal with the kick in the ass. He couldn’t handle disappointing his adoptive father, a man whom Doug owed his life. Doug was ten years old when his mother died and he’d been running from Social Services when Ted Houston had caught him trying to steal his wallet. Doug had figured he needed food in his stomach more than the guy with all the questions needed the cash in his pocket. Within the hour, he’d had Doug’s life story and he’d taken Doug into his home and his heart.

  That same heart was bad now and the stress of Doug’s professional problems had taken a toll on the older man, and also on Doug’s mother—the woman who’d raised him like her own son. Which meant Doug had to uncover whatever the Runaway Bride knew about her ex-fiancé and his shady dealings. If he scooped the other papers he’d be back on top. Doug wasn’t ignorant and he knew clearing his name wouldn’t fix his father’s heart. But good news would give the older man an emotional boost, something the doctors said would help his mental state and drive for recovery. They were right. Just knowing Doug was out attempting to prove his claim had done wonders for his father’s attitude. Enough to give Doug the push he needed to remain on the island and give this pretense a shot. And besides, he owed it to the Tribune and his boss to get accurate proof and cement his story.

  So now, he awaited his prey. He knew what Juliette looked like thanks to the black-and-white photos in all the papers and the colored ones he’d seen in his research. He wouldn’t be able to mistake the sleek, auburn hair, the chiseled profile or the elegant mannerisms ingrained in her by her public family. Until she’d bolted from the altar, Juliette had been perfection personified. And for Doug, a man intending to embark upon romance and discovery, she was both easy on the eyes as well as the libido.

  Without warning, Merrilee, her assistant and a woman Doug had never seen before—but one he’d have no problem viewing again and again—walked into the lobby. Long spiral curls hung down her back in windblown disarray. Disheveled from the breeze and humidity, her hair had a tousled look, like that of a woman who’d just woken up after a night of hot sex. The moment when a woman was most soft, pliant and easily aroused. As aroused as he was now, just looking at her. Doug shifted his stance.

  The white ruffle on her short denim miniskirt swayed provocatively in the humid breeze and the matching white, soft-looking cotton top dipped below one shoulder, revealing creamy white skin in stark contrast with fire-rich hair that screamed “touch me.” And he wanted to.

  Then she walked closer and he caught the chiseled profile surrounded by the auburn hair. High cheekbones. Pouty lips. Fire-rich hair—auburn hair.

  His Runaway Bride.

  He’d been so certain he’d know her on sight. He hadn’t. And though he now realized she resembled her twin, Juliette was too distinctive to be identical to any other woman. It wasn’t just the glorious mane of hair that had changed but the sense of liberation he saw both in her face and her more expressive mannerisms. Her hands flew in the air as she spoke to Merrilee. Her eyes glittered with surprise and awe as she took in whatever the older woman was saying.

  She no longer resembled the conservative fiancée of Stuart Barnes or the biddable daughter of Senator Stanton. This woman had spark and intensity. Excitement burned inside of her.

  She’d undergone a transformation since her almost-wedding and the reasons why intrigued him as much as the story itself.

  Which said a lot for a man in search of the proof that would clear his name.

  He wondered what it said about the outcome of his fantasy.

  SECRET FANTASY. As her sister’s students would say, “Well, duh.” Juliette should have known by the name of the resort this wasn’t just any island retreat. Better yet, she should have known when Gillian had elicited the promise that Juliette let loose that her twin was up to no good. And setting Juliette up for a week of decadence and sin—which was what being paired up with a sexy stranger would amount to—was definitely no good.

  Or was it? Juliette gnawed on her lower lip, recognizing an opportunity to make up for all she’d missed by taking the safe and expected route all her life.

  “Obviously you didn’t sign on for this. If you decide to leave, I’ll give you a full refund.” Merrilee Schaefer-Weston shook her head and laughed. “Or should I say I’ll give your sister a full refund? I must say this is a first for Fantasies, Inc.” She reached out and touched Juliette’s arm. “But, please, at least stay overnight as my guest. Perhaps the magic of the island will sway you.”

  Juliette glanced at the older but still beautiful owner of the complex. “Magic?” she asked wryly.

  Merrilee’s eyes danced with delight. “What else would you call a week away from prying eyes? A week solely for yourself, where no one will know what you say or do?”

  “Except my fantasy man.” Juliette shivered at the prospect of herself and an unknown stranger together for an entire erotic vacation. No Stuart, no scandal…

  No reporters.

  “I’ll stay the week.” Just like that she made her decision.

  If Merrilee was surprised, she didn’t show it. “Wonderful! You won’t regret it.”

  Juliette hoped not. Because such spontaneity wasn’t in her nature. But where had her preplanned, good-girl behavior gotten her? Used and jilted, in a manner of speaking. No one would believe normally conservative Juliette Stanton, a woman who thought out any and every move beforehand, would act on impulse. But as Merrilee said and her sister had ensured, Juliette now had that chance.

  “Give me a moment and I’ll see that you get checked in.” Merrilee left her standing in the center of the lobby, an eclectic combination of lush tropical plants and ornate marble floor and pillars. A true island retreat.

  She inclined her head and glanced to her left. A tingle of awareness took hold as she realized she was being watched—studied intently by an intriguing man with dark glasses and even darker hair. A well-toned man in swim trunks and nothing more. She swallowed hard.

  He lifted his glasses and met her gaze. Her body grew hot from the inside out in a feminine way that had nothing to do with the humidity surrounding her.

  “You’re all set.” Merrilee’s voice surprised her. “We’ve got a secluded section of cottages that I’m sure you’ll find to your liking.”

  Juliette regretfully withdrew her gaze from the stranger’s compelling one. “I’m certain I’ll love it and appreciate you keeping me away from prying eyes.” She glanced back again, but he was gone. Disappointment, keen and lingering, settled inside her.

  “Not to worry. I have a hunch you’ll see him again,” Merrilee said lightly.

  “See who?”

  Juliette knew she was playing dumb and Merrilee laughed. “Let me show you to the cottage. Your bags will follow shortly.”

  She accompanied the other woman out the open French doors and down a winding path, lined with green foliage and pink flowers Juliette couldn’t name but loved on sight. As she passed the pool and various restaurants, her gaze searched restlessly for him.

  Well, she thought, her sister believed she needed to get a life. Apparently she was about to find one.

  CHAPTER TWO

  AFTER A SHORT NAP and quick unpacking, Juliette changed and headed for the beach, stopping on the way to take in the view. Straight ahead, she glimpsed white sand and endless miles of blue water that stretched to the horizon, meeting an azure sky accented by puffy, white clouds. To her left, she found lush floral gardens and, to her right, a huge free-form pool with a cascading waterfall in its center.

  “A veritable Garden of Eden,” she murmured.

  “Makes you think man was a fool for ever leaving.”

  The deep, masculine voice rumbled in her ear and she knew instinctively who stood beside her. Her heartbeat tripled and excitement
churned her insides. “If I remember correctly, man didn’t go by choice. He was banished.”

  “For tasting the forbidden fruit.” At his words, a shiver of awareness took hold. She had to look.

  And if he’d been sexy from afar, up close he was devastating. Without sunglasses, his eyes were a dynamic shade of blue, his features ruggedly handsome. Unlike her ex-fiancé’s fair, all-American looks, this man was a rogue—from his dark hair, tanned skin and razor stubble, down to his baggy yet still sexy swim trunks.

  Her fantasy come to life. In her dreams, this was the kind of man who came to her in the dead of night. The one who’d sweep her off her feet and make her the center of his world. No other agenda in sight.

  He extended his hand. “Doug. And you are?”

  “Pleased to meet you,” she said with a hesitant smile. Being bold didn’t come easily. “I’m Juliette.” No last name attached, just as he hadn’t offered his.

  She placed her hand in his warm palm. The flare of heat was instant and intense. From the flicker of awareness in his eyes, he felt it too.

  Startled by the strength of the attraction, she tried to withdraw but he held on tight. “Nice to meet you, Juliette.”

  His thumb brushed the pulse point on her wrist briefly before he let go. A rush of pleasure took hold, wrapping around her heart and warming her in ways she hadn’t experienced in too long, if ever.

  But she liked what she was feeling. Each tingling sensation in her body, every shimmer of awareness in her brain, she enjoyed. After the pain and heartache of the last few weeks, she realized she desperately needed to feel sexy and desirable. She craved the lavish attention that would assure her she wasn’t second best. This man could provide that proof and be her much-needed diversion.

  But one real and nagging fear remained. Although she’d escaped to this island, Juliette couldn’t be certain she’d left the press behind. The last thing she wanted was to bring more scandal down on her father now.