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The Mighty Quinns: Ryan
Kate Hoffmann
Surrender is the greatest sinFor adventure guide Ryan Quinn, a week in Fiji babysitting a hen party should be a cakewalk. Only, the bride turns out to be sexy movie star Serena Hightower, and the wedding turns out to be very much in question. Ryan wants to help Serena, but he's not sure he can trust himself with her–not when she is his every temptation personified…Serena Hightower just needs one week in paradise to figure out what she wants. Unfortunately, what she wants is the one thing she can't have–the rugged and charming Ryan Quinn. Serena craves Ryan's touch, the haven of his arms. But to be with him, she'll have to risk her career and her future, not to mention his. If she throws it all away for the chance at happiness, will he do the same?


Surrender is the greatest sin
For adventure guide Ryan Quinn, a week in Fiji babysitting a hen party should be a cakewalk. Only, the bride turns out to be sexy movie star Serena Hightower, and the wedding turns out to be very much in question. Ryan wants to help Serena, but he’s not sure he can trust himself with her—not when she is his every temptation personified…
Serena Hightower just needs one week in paradise to figure out what she wants. Unfortunately, what she wants is the one thing she can’t have—the rugged and charming Ryan Quinn. Serena craves Ryan’s touch, the haven of his arms. But to be with him, she’ll have to risk her career and her future, not to mention his. If she throws it all away for the chance at happiness, will he do the same?
Praise for Kate Hoffmann’s Mighty Quinns (#ulink_29a485dc-08a5-5004-ac1f-26842e0cef75)
“The author continues to do a wonderful job with her
beloved Quinn family saga. A perfectly paced
page-turner, this setup novel for the New Zealand
Quinns is firmly in place and off to a great start.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Mighty Quinns: Malcolm
“The Mighty Quinns: Malcolm is a winning combination
of exciting adventure and romance. The captivating
prologue pulled me into this engaging story with
characters that are likable, interesting and genuine.
This is a sweet and sexy read that kept me
entertained from start to finish.”
—Harlequin Junkie
“Keep your fan handy! It was impossible for me
to put this steamy, sexy book down until the
last page was turned.”
—Fresh Fiction on The Mighty Quinns: Jack
“Sexy, heartwarming and romantic, this is a story to
settle down with and enjoy—and then reread.”
—RT Book Reviews on The Mighty Quinns: Teague
“This is a fast read that is hard to tear the eyes from.
Once I picked it up I couldn’t put it down.”
—Fresh Fiction on The Mighty Quinns: Dermot
Dear Reader (#ulink_2b25e59b-582a-5bec-9619-a176ea586c87),
It’s hard to believe another Quinn trilogy has come to an end. Every time I finish a miniseries, I always wonder where the Quinns will lead me next. This time it was New Zealand, and it was a wonderful place to research and write about. Next time? Who knows?
I expect, if I looked hard enough, I could find Quinns in every corner of the world. Don’t worry, I’ll keep looking for as long as you like to read about the family. And until we meet again…
Happy reading,
Kate Hoffmann
The Mighty Quinns: Ryan
Kate Hoffmann


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#ulink_cf938b2d-4efc-57b8-8b87-47f6c257a1d3)
KATE HOFFMANN has written over seventy stories for Mills and Boon. Her first book was published in 1993, and last year she celebrated twenty years as a romance writer. In addition to writing, Kate’s interests include theater, music, gardening, costume design and vegetarian cooking. Kate lives in southeastern Wisconsin with her cat, Chloe, and many small dust bunnies.
Contents
Cover (#ucccf5637-a62e-5b34-9c69-4a2dd24cfde4)
Back Cover Text (#u4b9c5a8a-38d4-55fb-a409-17ddb453e1c0)
Praise (#u56cdc855-97ab-557c-85b1-1360ddc1c290)
Dear Reader (#u7bd8d57c-726e-55f4-8a6e-e8bd67d6365f)
Title Page (#u142e0595-477b-5b4d-a7b0-4a9bb8e06cd3)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#u4f254166-0d2f-5c8d-bbc6-445e34353b66)
Prologue (#u9682e4f4-266c-53d5-b140-620393780ef4)
1 (#uafd000bb-ab94-5841-8535-6aecd5263844)
2 (#u5b51ec32-45d3-5533-9043-dd5e19b7792a)
3 (#u9572ca9d-323f-58cf-9b06-905c6bbedc51)
4 (#litres_trial_promo)
5 (#litres_trial_promo)
6 (#litres_trial_promo)
7 (#litres_trial_promo)
8 (#litres_trial_promo)
9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ulink_e1e2b7a4-214d-5582-96e9-aaaaf8babdc0)
THE WIND HOWLED outside the house on Gordon Road, shaking the windows. The dream had Ryan Quinn in its grip, and though he wanted to wake up, he felt as if the darkness had swallowed him whole.
In the dream, a knock sounded at the bedroom door, so loud that it shook the floor. He slowly crossed the room, the floor icy cold against his bare feet. He stopped short as the knob began to turn, the terror welling up inside of him. The door swung open and a huge figure filled the space.
Ryan’s breath came in shallow gasps as the fear overwhelmed him. He looked up from the man’s boots to his cold weather gear. The hood of the man’s jacket was pulled low over his face and Ryan watched as he brushed the hood back.
A scream tore from Ryan’s throat and he bolted up in his bed, his heart slamming against his chest. His twin brother, Rogan, pushed up from his pillow on the bed next to him, rubbing his eyes. “Jaysus, Ryan, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
Ryan swallowed hard, pulling the blankets up to his chin. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”
Rogan shook his head. “What was it this time?”
Since their father’s death a year ago, Ryan had had trouble sleeping. He’d been plagued with vague, unsettling dreams, dreams that reflected the grief and fear that existed in the Quinn house. But this was a new one, more vivid and frightening.
Ryan shivered, his body trembling uncontrollably. “It—it was Dad.”
Rogan crawled out of his bed and sat down on the edge of Ryan’s mattress. “Really. You saw him in your dream?”
Ryan nodded, swallowing back the fear. Tears filled his eyes and he brushed one off his cheek. “He was frozen. His face was made of ice and his eyes were black holes. And there was snow in his hair and beard.”
“Did he say anything?”
“No. But he smiled at me.”
“It was just a dream,” Rogan said.
Ryan turned to him. “Some nights, before I go to sleep, I imagine that he’s still alive. I imagine that he walked off the mountain and is living somewhere in Nepal or Tibet. That he’s safe.”
“He isn’t,” Rogan said. “Mum says that he’s dead and we need to accept that. But...sometimes I wish he was alive, too.”
“Do you think they’ll ever find him?”
“Mal says that even if they do, they could never bring him home. It would be impossible.”
“I wish I could see him just once more. Just so I could remember him.”
“What would you say to him?” Rogan asked.
Ryan had to consider his answer. He knew he shouldn’t be angry with his father, but there was a tiny part of him that was. Max Quinn had promised to always come back, but he’d broken his promise, turning Ryan’s world upside down.
Their lives had changed overnight. Money was suddenly in very short supply, and the worry over the family finances was deeply etched in their mother’s face. They’d had to leave their little house in Rotorua, leave their friends and school and come to live in Raglan with their mother’s parents.
Lydie Quinn had been sad for nearly a year, staying in her room and not coming out, even for Ryan and his three siblings. Ryan had been afraid for such a long time, and he wasn’t sure how to help his mother. But he’d found odd jobs and made a few dollars here and there, each week handing over the money to his grandmother for groceries.
And though his siblings still worshipped the man who had been their father, Ryan was the only one who also saw that he’d had flaws. He’d left his family with nothing. He’d thought he was invincible—and he’d been wrong.
Rogan pulled the blanket up and crawled into the bed. Ryan moved over to make room. “Mum wants to drive to Rotorua tomorrow so we can go to the cemetery. It’s been a year. They put up a monument and she wants us to see it.”
“Is it going to be sad? I don’t want to watch her cry anymore.”
“I expect it will be,” Rogan said. “But best to keep our chins up and carry on.”
Ryan flopped back on the pillow, his gaze fixed on the shadows that danced on the ceiling. “I want him to come home.”
“I know,” Rogan said, lying down beside him. “Someday, maybe we can go look for him. We could bring him home and put him in the cemetery.”
Ryan shook his head, the thought of seeing his father frozen in time more frightening than the nightmare. “I don’t want to remember him that way. I want to remember him like he was when he was alive.” Before he’d broken his promise and died.
“Maybe you’re right,” Rogan said.
“But I do want to climb mountains someday,” he said. “Just like Dad. I want to see all the things that he saw.”
“We will,” Rogan said.
Ryan closed his eyes and tried to picture his father alive and happy. But no matter how hard he tried, the image of the man in the dream kept nagging at his brain. How could this have happened to Max Quinn? He’d always told his children that he would keep himself safe, that they had nothing to fear.
Had he forgotten his promise? Or maybe promises didn’t mean anything to grown-ups. Well, it would mean something to him. Ryan made a silent vow—he would never break a promise, ever.
“Go to sleep,” Rogan said. “You’ll feel better in the morning.” Rogan put his arm around his brother, and Ryan clutched him tightly.
“Promise me that you’ll never die,” Ryan whispered.
“I won’t. I promise. Now you promise, too.”
“I won’t die. Not until I’m an old man. I promise.”
1 (#ulink_57fa9ced-b65e-51ab-ae23-6363cd43ea66)
RYAN QUINN STARED out the rain-blurred windscreen of Rogan’s Land Rover, his gaze fixed on the dark tarmac. In the distance, the landing beacons from Auckland’s airport illuminated the night sky.
“How long are you going to wait?”
“All night if I have to,” Ryan murmured, glancing over at his twin brother, slumped in the driver’s seat. “They’re coming in from Los Angeles on a private jet. I don’t reckon they’ll be keeping to a strict schedule.”
“Serena Hightower,” Rogan said, shaking his head. “How did you get so lucky?”
Ryan shrugged. “I’m not sure I’d call it lucky. It’s just another job.”
“Yeah, but the scenery is going to be splendid,” Rogan said, reaching for the coffee he’d set in the cup holder. “What are you going to do with them? I asked Dana what your plans were, but she said they’re top secret.”
“We’re going to Fiji.”
“Really? We’ve never guided in Fiji before. That’s more of a vacation spot.”
“We’ll do some light trekking, maybe some climbing. Surfing. Sailing.”
“What about supplies and equipment and—”
“It’s not that kind of trip. I’m just on board as...an advisor. Someone who can take care of all the details for whatever they want to do.”
“Kind of like a...babysitter?”
Ryan glanced over at his brother, ready with a retort. But there was no way around it. That was pretty much the job description. But how the hell was he supposed to refuse the offer? He was getting his regular rate plus expenses and a promised bonus at the end, all of which he intended to keep for himself. And if he did the job well, there might be other opportunities—which meant a chance to carve out a life of his own, away from the family business. “I prefer to call it a facilitator.”
He’d been considering a break from the family adventure-guiding business for a long time, and lately, it seemed as if that time was now. Both Mal and Rogan were settling down with women they’d met, planning their futures, searching for ways to cut back on the trips they took for Max Adrenaline. They’d both assumed that Ryan would happily take over the brunt of the work.
But he’d made no promises to them and had plans of his own—he wanted to start a surf school. He lived right on the beach; he’d been surfer since the age of nine. And he’d always been a decent teacher. The only thing he didn’t have was the money to make it happen.
His fee, plus a big tip on this job would provide a good start.
“How did you get this job?” Rogan asked.
“I guided a bloke named Thom Perry last year. He was on our Mount Blanc trip. Perry owns Greenmoor Studios in Los Angeles. Serena Hightower is starring in some big blockbuster they have coming out after Christmas. She’s marrying her boyfriend right before the premiere, and he doesn’t want any bad press.”
“Bad press?”
“This is her hen party. She and her bridesmaids want one last fling before she gets married, and Perry wants to make sure they don’t create any problems for the studio.”
“So it’s your job to get her safely to the altar so this bloke’s movie can make more millions?”
“That’s about it,” Ryan said. “How hard can it be? Five women on a tropical island.”
“So, will you be hiring the male stripper or are you providing those services yourself?”
“It’s not like that,” he said. “Ms. Hightower wants an adventure. According to her instructions, she doesn’t want to spend every minute working on her tan. I expect we won’t be sipping mimosas by the pool the entire time.”
“So you’ll be doing a lot of shopping?”
“Definitely not on the itinerary. Perry has a man in Fiji who will help me with the arrangements. Arthur Cawaru. He’ll meet up with me there.”
“We’re splitting the fee with him?”
Ryan shook his head. “Nope. Like I said, the studio is paying all the bills. And this isn’t a Max Adrenaline job. I’m freelancing on this.”
“Wow,” Rogan muttered. “Mal isn’t going to like that.”
“This isn’t a guiding job. I’m not using company equipment or money. And I don’t care what the hell Mal does and doesn’t like these days,” Ryan muttered. “He’s been so caught up in planning the Everest trip that he’s not interested in anything else.”
Max Quinn, their father, had died nearly twenty years before while guiding a group of climbers to the summit of Everest. Before his death, he’d parlayed his considerable fame as a mountaineer into an adventure business with his Aussie friend and business partner, Roger Innis—who had taken total control of the company, and its profits, after Max’s accident.
And now, with the recent discovery of their father’s body on Everest, there had been a push for his three adventuring sons to make a pilgrimage of sorts to Max Quinn’s final resting place, to retrieve his effects and bury him properly. Mal, Ryan’s older brother, was all for the trip, along with publishing a biography that he and his fiancée, Amy Engalls, were writing about his father.
But not everyone was so enthusiastic about their expedition to Everest. Roger Innis was mounting an expedition of his own to recover their father’s effects, including his climbing journal, which Innis considered company, not personal, property. Mal suspected that Innis was afraid he might be blamed for the mistakes made that day. And Ryan and Rogan knew there were other secrets that might be exposed if their father’s journal got into the wrong hands. The secrets in that book could shatter their perfect memory of their father —and destroy the family he’d left behind.
Ryan drew a deep breath. “We need to tell Mal about Dad and the Montgomery woman. He can still call an end to this.”
“There’s no stopping him,” Rogan said. “The trip is a go.” He paused. “And I’m going with him. I’m not going to let Roger Innis use his expedition to make himself look like the hero.”
“But you said it was morbid.”
“Yeah,” Rogan said. “But I’ve had a change of heart. Claudia has pointed out that I can’t really get on with my future until I deal with my past. Maybe this trip is what it will take for me to understand who he was. And who I am.”
“You know who he was,” Ryan countered. “He was our father. A philanderer.”
“That’s not all he was. Listen, someday I’m going to be a father. And I won’t have Dad around to talk to about it. So I’d like to know him a little better. And I want the truth of why he died on that mountain.”
“And what if the journal’s not there? What if he just died there on the mountain, without anything important to say to his family? Or what if he mentions that Montgomery woman? How do you think that will make Mum feel?”
Rogan drew a deep breath. “I don’t know. But it’s time we found out.”
“You and Mal can go right ahead.”
“It’s something we should all do together,” Rogan insisted.
“Count me out. I’m happy with what I know. I don’t see the need to stir it all up again. It almost destroyed us once already.” Ryan’s chest tightened and he swallowed back a wave of emotion.
His family had never really dealt with his father’s death. At the time, Ryan’s mother, Lydie Quinn, had been so emotionally fragile herself that she hadn’t been able to help her children through the tragedy. Ryan had stood by helplessly as all the happiness had drained out of their lives.
Along the way, Ryan had learned to control his emotions, to stop caring about anything that might make him happy. He’d lived his life waiting for the next disaster to befall their family and building a high wall around his heart to protect himself from the pain.
Malcolm and Rogan had found happiness. They’d fallen in love and were looking forward to rosy futures. But Ryan would never allow himself to be that vulnerable. He couldn’t bring himself to trust that deeply.
“You’re going to have to make a decision soon,” Rogan said. “We leave in three months.”
“Have a good trip,” he muttered.
An uneasy silence fell over the interior of the Range Rover. As if he didn’t already feel like an outsider in his own family, this didn’t make things much better. He and his brothers had always agreed on most subjects, but since Amy and Claudia had come into the picture, that had all changed.
“Is that your plane?” Rogan asked.
Ryan looked up and saw a small jet appear out of the darkness. It rolled to a stop about twenty meters from the car.
“Jaysus, you will be traveling in style,” Rogan said, laughing softly.
“Thanks for the lift,” Ryan said. “I’ll see you in a week.”
The door to the plane dropped down, and Ryan jumped out and grabbed his gear from the rear seat. “Wish me luck,” he said.
“I don’t think you’ll be needing any,” Rogan said. “Stay out of trouble.”
Ryan waved and swung his bag over his shoulder, then jogged across the tarmac to the waiting plane. A young man appeared in the doorway as Ryan climbed the steps.
“Mr. Quinn?”
“Yes,” Ryan said.
“Welcome aboard. I’m Miles DuMont. I’m the studio publicist. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Ryan shook his hand. “A publicist?”
“Oh, don’t worry,” he whispered. “You’ll barely know I’m here. I’m just along to make sure we control the message. And get a few good photos.”
“The message? What does that mean?” Ryan asked as he moved past him.
“Ms. Hightower tends to find herself in the middle of a media firestorm wherever she goes. I’m the one who carries the fire extinguisher.”
The interior of the plane was dark and silent. Ryan stowed his gear in a locker and glanced toward the back of the plane. “They’ve all had plenty to drink,” Miles said. “Come on back. I’ll introduce you to Serena.”
Ryan followed Miles down the aisle of the plane. Four passengers were curled up in the wide leather seats, sound asleep, but a reading light glowed from a seat at the rear.
“Ms. Hightower?”
Ryan held his breath when he got his first glimpse of the actress. She was stunning. Her long hair was pulled back from her fresh-scrubbed face, and she wore dark-rimmed glasses, which did nothing to hide her large liquid-blue eyes.
“Ms. Hightower, this is Ryan Quinn, the guide.”
She smiled warmly and Ryan’s pulse leaped. He knew he ought to say something, but he couldn’t seem to put the words together. Hell, he was the last guy in the world who would be starstruck, but she was possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. “Hello,” he finally managed.
“Hi,” she said, sending him a coy smile. She stared at him for a long moment and Ryan wondered if she could read his thoughts. Not that his thoughts were any different from those of every other bloke who had the pleasure of meeting her. She slowly reached out her hand, and Ryan took it.
“I—I have some interesting adventures planned for you,” he said, his fingers tingling.
“Good. I’m looking forward to having some fun. Do you like to have fun, Quinn? Or are you like Thom Perry? Do you think I need to behave myself?”
“I—” Ryan frowned, drawing his hand away. She spoke with a distinct British accent. He’d assumed she was American, but clearly he’d been wrong. “What was the question?”
She laughed softly. “Miles, why don’t you get Quinn something to eat and drink. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us and I’m sure he’d like to settle in.”
“Yes, Ms. Hightower.”
With that, Ryan nodded, then turned and made his way to a seat at the front of the plane. He looked back once to see Serena leaning into the aisle and watching his retreat.
“Be warned,” Miles said. “That innocent smile hides a very naughty side. Don’t be taken in.”
“No, of course not,” Ryan murmured.
But as he sank into the soft leather seat, a strange sense of anticipation settled over him. He couldn’t help but be curious. Who was Serena Hightower? And why did the simple touch of her hand startle him so?
He rubbed his hand on the faded fabric of his jeans, as if the action might banish all thoughts of Serena from his head. But it didn’t work. Unless he regained a measure of control, this was going to be a very long trip.
* * *
SERENA HIGHTOWER STARED out the window of the jet, her gaze fixed on the blinking light at the end of the wing. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to clear the chaotic thoughts from her mind.
She rubbed her hands together, wondering why the effects of the man’s touch seemed to linger. Yes, Ryan Quinn was attractive...and sexy...and he had a dangerous air. And, yes, any woman would find him irresistible. But she was engaged. Engaged to be married in a few weeks! And all she could think about was some stranger she’d just met.
“Ryan,” she murmured. “Ryan Quinn.”
Serena groaned. How had she allowed this engagement to get so far? When she’d accepted Ben’s proposal, she’d never really believed it would result in a wedding. She’d been infatuated, giddy with the romance of being in love. But the realities of their situation had soon begun to emerge. They hadn’t dated very long, and Serena had soon realized that she didn’t really know Ben. Though they were both actors with high-profile careers and permanent places in the gossip magazines, they had very different ideas about a commited relationship, especially when it came to fidelity.
Serena had spent a lifetime watching her parents make a hash of their multiple marriages. Living life as the only child of a celebrity couple should have opened her eyes to the realities of love, especially the fact that actors had so many temptations to stray.
When they’d first gotten involved, Serena hadn’t cared that Ben Thayer had a reputation as a player—she’d just taken it as a reality of the biz. Besides, she hadn’t been concerned about getting hurt, because she was going into the marriage with her eyes wide open.
So how had she lost control of this?
For some reason she’d assumed that the media would be happy to report the engagement and then move on to more interesting stories. But they’d immediately pressed her to set a wedding date. She’d just tossed a date out, figuring she could always change her mind. Unfortunately, her “team” had taken the date as gospel and had begun to plan, clearing her schedule, searching for wedding venues, hiring a wedding planner.
While she’d been away shooting a movie, her entire wedding had been planned for her, and she’d passed the point of no return before she’d even had a chance to scream “Stop!” Breaking her engagement now would bring a riot of bad press at a time when her career and her reputation as an actress hung in the balance.
Serena had always wanted to be taken seriously as an actress. Yet most of her career to date had been built on popular and not critically acclaimed films. But her most recent film was different. It was her chance to show she was a capable actress.
She would no longer be the child of Will Sheridan and Cassandra Hightower-Fellowes, or the fiancée of Ben Thayer, or the beautiful face that graced the pages of fashion magazines. She wouldn’t be famous for being famous. Once this movie was released, she’d be Serena Hightower, a serious actress.
And then she’d finally be satisfied, finally be happy with her life. This had to be it. She’d tried everything else—meditation, yoga, Kabbalah, juicing—whatever trend had come along, Serena had tried it, hoping that she’d find the answers to her questions. One question, actually. With everything she’d achieved in life, everything she possessed, why couldn’t she be happy?
It was a simple question, yet one that seemed to plague her mind. There had to be something more to life than this. She had money. She had fame. She had every possession she could ever wish for. And if she went ahead with the wedding, she’d have a marriage.
Serena reached out and poured herself a glass of warm champagne. They’d opened the bottles hours ago as a celebration of the adventure they were about to have. But now, the taste of the flat champagne mirrored her feelings.
She pushed out of her seat and wandered to the front of the jet. Her four bridesmaids were sound asleep, exhausted from the excitement of the trip and too much champagne. Miles had his nose buried in his laptop. She glanced over at the passenger they’d taken aboard in Auckland.
Serena plopped down beside him. “Can’t sleep?”
He turned away from the window and met her gaze. “I never sleep on planes.”
The urge to touch him again was overwhelming. She wanted to reach out and run her fingers through his thick dark hair. Why did she find him so fascinating? She’d known her share of handsome men. But Ryan Quinn wore his good looks like he wore his clothes, casually and comfortably. This was a man who never worried over wrinkles and Botox and the effect aging would have on his career. This was a real man.
“So, you’re the nanny Thom has sent along to watch over us,” Serena said, settling back into the leather seat and tucking her feet up under her.
“Nanny?”
“What do you prefer to be called?” she asked.
“Quinn,” he said. “You can call me Quinn.”
She fixed him with her most charming gaze. “What did he tell you, Quinn? Are you meant to keep us out of trouble?”
“I’m supposed to facilitate your travel and activities,” he said.
“If that’s your story,” she said with a shrug. “But you don’t have to pretend. I know why he sent you. He wants to make sure I’m safely delivered to the altar after Christmas.”
“Is that expected to be a problem?”
Serena sighed. “No. Of course not. I’m ready to get married.”
And yet even when she said the words out loud, Serena couldn’t make herself finish the thought—ready to get married to Ben. Was she really ready to marry him? Was she even in love with him? If she was, why was she trying to tease this handsome stranger into conversation when she ought to just go back to her seat and sleep?
“How did you get talked into taking this job?” she asked.
“I guided Thom on a climbing trip last year. He thought I was the right man for the job.”
She laughed softly. “I can imagine,” Serena murmured. Thom was a crafty sort, she mused. He could have sent some gruff, middle-aged security sort, but instead, he’d sent someone young and hot, the kind that her four single bridesmaids would find irresistible. “You’re going to be the hit of the party.”
Serena reached out and grabbed his glass from the table in front of him, draining the last bit of whiskey and water from the bottom. “I’ll get you another,” she said.
“I’m fine,” Ryan replied.
“I’m not,” Serena said.
She crawled out of her seat and made her way to the small galley near the cockpit door. After she filled two tumblers with ice, she grabbed the whiskey bottle and returned to her seat next to Ryan.
“So, why don’t you tell me all about yourself,” Serena said, pouring him a glass.
He pointed to the whiskey, filled to the brim. “Are you trying to get me pissed?”
“It’s a long flight. We have a lot of time to kill. And I’ll get bored if you don’t tell me some interesting stories. I’m just getting you relaxed.”
“I’m always relaxed,” he said.
“Lucky you,” she said. “I never am.”
He pushed the glass in her direction. “Why don’t you drink it, then?”
She’d already had too much champagne and was beginning to feel the effects of a hangover. But she picked up the glass and took a sip, then set it down. Serena’s gaze met his, and for a long moment, she couldn’t look away. Would she be so attracted to him if she loved Ben? Her heart said no, but there was so much riding on this wedding now, she had to be sure. Letting her impulsive nature take over, she leaned forward and kissed him.
It wasn’t a passionate kiss. Nor was it platonic. It existed in the strange space in between. She drew back, her face warming with embarrassment. Thankfully, Ryan didn’t seem to be offended by her brazen nature.
“Sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
“I just...” she murmured. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be engaged?” he asked.
“Yes,” Serena said, frowning. “I am. Don’t you think it odd that I’d feel the urge to kiss you?”
“I can’t say. Do you usually kiss men you barely know?”
Serena nodded. “All the time. I mean, I do on-screen. That’s part of the job. But you’re not...” She sank back into the seat. She had her answer. She hadn’t just enjoyed the kiss, she was desperate to kiss him again. And she didn’t want to stop there. She imagined tearing off his shirt and touching his body, kissing him in places that only she could discover.
She reached for the whiskey and took a big gulp, wincing as the liquor burned a path down her throat.
“I always wondered how that worked,” Ryan said. “How do you kiss someone when it’s just for show?”
“Are you asking if I get turned on?”
He shrugged. “I would think that would be one of the dangers.”
“That’s why so many actors end up together after they’ve worked on a film. At some point, the kissing starts to feel real.”
“Is that what happened with you and...”
“Ben,” she said. “Ben Thayer.”
“Right. Ben.”
“I suppose that’s how it started. He was a really good kisser. And I got a bit swept away.” But she’d never felt quite so infatuated as she was feeling now, sitting next to Ryan Quinn and imagining the next kiss they might share.
“I don’t expect he’d be happy that you kissed me.”
“Hmm.” She smiled at him. “I suppose not. If you don’t tell, I won’t, either. We’ll just make it our little secret.” She needed time and space to be able to figure out what all this meant, and right now she had neither.
“Secrets can be very dangerous,” Ryan said.
Serena took another sip of the whiskey, then handed him the glass. “Tell me one of your secrets,” she said. “As an actor, I’ve become quite keen at observation. And I believe you’re the kind of man who keeps his secrets buried very deep.”
“What you see is what you get,” Ryan said with a shrug. He gave her a sideways glance, then shook his head. “I’m not here for your amusement.”
“Of course not,” she replied.
“And I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Thank you.” She picked up the glass, then got to her feet. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun this week. If I were you, Quinn, I’d get some sleep. I intend to keep you very busy.”
Serena wandered back to her seat. Miles gave her a suspicious look as she passed him, and she rolled her eyes. “I was just being friendly.”
But when she’d settled into her own spot, she closed her eyes and sighed. She couldn’t seem to put the memories of her kiss with Ryan Quinn out of her mind. Even now, her heart was still beating a bit faster than normal, and her breathing had grown shallow and short.
Her gaze dropped to the six-carat diamond ring that sparkled on her finger. She was due to walk down the aisle in just a few weeks. Everything was planned. Two hundred and fifty guests had all received their invitations. And yet she wasn’t thinking about the man waiting for her at home in Los Angeles. Instead, she was obsessing over the man sitting just a few feet away.
It was proof that she didn’t love Ben. But then, she’d never really believed in true love, anyway, so what had changed? When it came down to it, was one kiss reason enough to destroy her chance at happiness? “Get a grip,” she muttered to herself. Ryan was a distraction. Ben was the man she intended to marry.
* * *
A BRIGHTLY PAINTED VAN and a Peugeot sedan were waiting for them when the Learjet landed in Nadi, on the island of Viti Levu. They taxied to stop near a well-lit hangar, and Miles and Ryan helped the ladies gather their luggage and fill out their customs and immigration forms for the waiting official. When they were cleared, the girls stumbled into the van, still half-asleep.
“Please tell me we’re finally here,” one of the women cried.
“You’re here,” Ryan said.
He glanced at Serena, and she smiled warmly before disappearing into the van.
Miles and Ryan decided to ride in the sedan, chauffeured by a smiling Fijian. He held out his hand as they approached. “I am Arthur Cawaru. I manage the house at Bellavista.”
Ryan shook his hand. “I’m Ryan Quinn. Thom said you’d be able to help me out with the arrangements.”
“I am at your service, Mr. Quinn.”
Miles introduced himself to Arthur and they got into the rear seat of the car. Though the sun wasn’t up yet, the eastern sky had begun to change from black to a deep blue, and the stars had started to fade. They drove on narrow, winding roads that hugged the coast, the South Pacific on one side and lush, tropical vegetation on the other.
Ryan chuckled softly. “This is bloody brilliant.”
“Brilliant?”
“Look at us. Someone is paying us to hang out in this tropical paradise with five beautiful women. It’s like we won the lottery.”
“I wouldn’t jump the gun on that,” Miles said.
Ryan glanced over at him. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t know Serena. She can be...a handful. She’s gorgeous and talented. But she’s also mercurial and stubborn. And moody and demanding. One moment she seems smarter than any woman you’ve ever met, and then she’ll do something that defies common sense, and you wonder how she can be so clueless. If she weren’t so damn beautiful and good at what she does, she wouldn’t get work.”
“She can’t be that bad,” Ryan said.
“She’s got lots of baggage,” Miles murmured. “Just don’t get caught up in the fantasy. She’s nothing like she is on the screen.”
“I’ve never seen her movies.”
Miles stared at him in disbelief. “Never?”
“Was that part of the job?”
“No. Maybe it’s for the best. You won’t be captivated by her.”
Ryan chuckled softly. It was too late for that, he mused. “Hey, I’m always a professional, and I made a promise to Mr. Perry. No worries there.”
“She’s a professional, too,” Miles said. “She’s an actress and a good one. So take everything she says with a grain of salt.”
The rest of the ride passed in silence. Ryan found it difficult to reconcile the woman Miles was talking about with the woman he’d met on the plane. He’d found Serena sweet and charming and vulnerable. And yet to hear Miles tell it, Serena Hightower was trouble. For Miles, anything that interfered with the box office profits of Thom Perry’s latest movie would be cause for concern. To both Miles and Thom, Serena was a commodity, an investment that would pay off only if she behaved to their standards.
The sedan turned off the main road, and after a few minutes, they drove through a tall gate. A moment later, a sprawling mansion appeared out of the dark, the white exterior lit by floodlights. “Crikey,” Ryan murmured. “This is a bit more posh than the tents I usually sleep in.”
“We thought it might be better if Ms. Hightower and her party stayed at a private villa instead of a resort,” Miles explained. “That way we can control the environment.”
“What do you expect they’ll be doing? Pillaging the villages? Stealing cars and raping the menfolk?”
“It’s always best to expect the worst,” Miles said.
The vehicles pulled around the large circular drive and stopped at the grand entrance to the house. Ryan hopped out and Miles followed him. A Fijian woman appeared at the door with a tray of drinks, each decorated with a fresh flower.
“Welcome to Bellavista,” Arthur said in his booming voice. “This is my wife, Juni. House cook. She will bring you anything you would like to eat.”
Juni handed them each a glass. “Wonderful,” Miles muttered. “More alcohol.”
“Fruit juice,” Juni whispered, “with ginseng. Good for jet lag.”
The girls walked into the house, one by one, sipping at their drinks. When they were all inside, Ryan followed. He introduced himself to Juni, then trailed after Miles, slowly turning as he took in the luxurious interior. “Nice crib,” he murmured to himself.
“Thom bought it five years ago,” Miles commented.
“Thom owns this?”
“Yeah. He’s got a château in France, a condo in New York, a beach house in L.A., a mansion in Beverly Hills and a place in Aspen. And this. Strange thing is, he hardly has time to vacation. I don’t think he’s been here in two or three years. But it’s a handy place to stash the occasional detoxing actor or actress. Very private. Virtually no media presence on the island.”
“Mr. Quinn, your room is this way,” Arthur said. “Mr. DuMont, please follow Juni. You’re in the other wing.”
Arthur reached for Ryan’s bag, but he shook his head. “I’ve got it.”
“This way.”
His room was airy and spacious, the windows covered with large floor-to-ceiling shutters. Ryan tossed his gear on the bed, then threw open the shutters and walked out onto a wide terrace that overlooked the ocean. It was still dark, but the sound of the surf filled the air.
“I love the way it smells here. What is that? I can’t place the scent.”
Ryan turned to the right and found Serena sitting on the stone wall nearby, staring out at the eastern horizon. She had the room right next to his.
“Frangipani, I think,” Ryan replied. “They’re most fragrant at night. They don’t have nectar, but they use their scent to trick moths into pollinating them. The poor moth does all the work for no reward.”
“Well, I’m impressed.”
“My mother has been trying to grow frangipani for years without any success.” He decided a change of subject was in order. “I figured you’d crawl right into bed. It’s been a long trip.”
She smiled. “No. I can sleep later. I wanted to watch the sunrise.” She pointed out at the water. “Look. It’s about to happen.”
A tiny sliver of red light appeared over the water and they both stared at it. Though they were standing a fair distance away from each other, Ryan felt oddly close to her, as if they’d discovered a connection between them.
As the sun crept higher, it painted the clouds in a blaze of purple and orange. Ryan had seen a lot of sunrises in a lot of beautiful places, but this one was different. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe, as if his senses had suddenly cleared and his mind had sharpened. He should have been exhausted, but instead, he was energized.
“Do you ever wonder if you’re living someone else’s life?” she asked.
Ryan frowned, then turned and braced his hip against the wall. “Yeah. Sometimes.”
It was as if she could read his mind. He’d been feeling like that a lot lately—as if he was living his father’s life, or maybe his brothers’. He was tired of doing things just to please them. But while he’d like to hope he might open that surf school one day, Ryan could barely support himself on what he made. And despite his refusal to join them on the Everest expedition, he couldn’t abandon his brothers when they needed him.
“I don’t know how—or when—I lost control of my own life,” Serena continued. “I’m not sure I ever even had it. God, I’m tired of pretending.”
He heard the exhaustion in her voice and he wanted to go to her and comfort her in some way. But he knew better than to touch her again. “Isn’t that what an actor does for a living?” Ryan asked.
“When the camera is on. But I pretend to be someone I’m not even when the camera is off.” She swung her legs around and jumped off the wall onto the terrace. “This isn’t what you signed on for, is it? Listening to me moan about how horrible my life is.”
“Usually I’m worried about my clients tumbling down the side of a mountain or falling into a crevasse. I think I can manage listening to your problems.”
Serena nodded. “Yes, you’re the kind of man who can handle just about anything, aren’t you? You seem very...competent.” She walked over to him, then looked up to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry about the kiss. I was just—I don’t know. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Ryan knew he should be sorry, too. He hated people who didn’t take their promises seriously. But as his gaze drifted down to her lips he found that he wanted to kiss her again, to drag her into his arms and see where it all might lead. It didn’t even matter that she was supposed to walk down the aisle in less than a month.
Besides being engaged, she was also completely out of his league, Ryan mused. Guys like him didn’t date movie stars. “Hey, I can go home and tell everyone I kissed Serena Hightower. Not that I’ll tell anyone. I won’t. But, occasionally, I might think about it. The kiss, not telling people about it.”
“I suppose that wouldn’t be so bad,” she said. “I might do the same.” She drew a ragged breath and closed her eyes. “I need some sleep. I’ll talk to you later.” She took a step closer and brushed a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Quinn.”
“For what?”
“For...listening,” she said. “No one ever does.”
She walked back inside and Ryan watched her leave, admiring the gentle sway of her hips as she moved. He was left wondering about the things she’d confessed to him. Was she really that unhappy with her life? She was supposedly in love. She had a great career and plenty of money. Everyone knew her name and her face. She flew around the world on private jets and stayed in mansions on tropical islands.
“Yeah, she’s out of your league,” he muttered. “Off limits.”
Ryan groaned softly, then rubbed his hands over his tired eyes. This was unlike any other trip he’d worked. But the goals were the same. Keep the client happy. So if Serena wanted to talk, then he was there to listen. If she wanted to hike, he was there to guide her. And if she wanted to kiss him again...he’d have to draw the line there.
Kissing a client would be considered a breach in the company rules against fraternization—and his own. But thinking about kissing her wasn’t. He could go a long time rewinding what had happened on the plane and imagining what could have happened if they’d both been free to do more.
2 (#ulink_32cddd31-9544-5236-98cc-6ee109cd431a)
SERENA ROLLED OVER in bed and squinted at the clock. From the light filtering through the shutters, she could tell that it was closer to noon than to midnight. She’d slept for five hours without moving and she felt perfectly refreshed.
They’d spend a week on Fiji, and though this was technically her hen party, in truth, she didn’t feel much like celebrating. Instead, she wanted to distract herself with exercise and adventure. Perhaps that was the best way to calm what Thom called her “prewedding jitters.”
“Jitters,” she murmured. Serena held out her hand. She wasn’t jittery. She felt a sense of calm now that she’d put an entire ocean between herself and the wedding plans. She could almost pretend it wasn’t happening.
She smiled, remembering her conversation with Ryan Quinn. The idea of spending the next week with him was more appealing than spending it with her four bridesmaids. And just because she enjoyed his company, didn’t mean she was cheating.
Unfortunately, Ben didn’t have the same loyalty to her. He’d strayed twice in the past year, both times with married costars. The tabloids had printed the rumors but hadn’t been able to confirm them, and Serena had almost convinced herself that his behavior was indeed part of his “process.” In order to play a believable romantic scene on-screen, Ben claimed he needed to experience real romance with his costar.
She frowned. Why did that suddenly seem so disingenuous? Was it because her doubts about their pending marriage were growing deeper with every day that passed? Was it because she was searching for a way out and the clock was ticking down?
Cursing softly, Serena rolled out of bed and rummaged through her suitcase for a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. She slipped into a pair of sport sandals, then grabbed a band and gathered her tousled hair into a ponytail. Her sunglasses were tucked in her purse, and she pulled them out and put them on top of head.
The housekeeper, Juni, was in the kitchen and offered Serena some lunch when she walked through. Serena politely declined, instead grabbing a banana and a bottle of water. “Have you seen Ryan?”
“He said he was going to take a walk on the beach,” Juni said. “The other ladies are at the pool, enjoying mimosas. And Mr. Miles is in the office on the phone.”
She wandered out onto the rear terrace and headed to the pool. Her bridesmaids were dressed in colorful bikinis and sprawled on cushioned chaises. “Let the adventure begin,” Serena called.
They all groaned. “Have a drink,” Arabella insisted, her glass dangling from her fingers. “It’ll help with the hangover and the jet lag. And your infernal enthusiasm.”
Serena settled onto a chair and turned her face up to the sun, but before long, she sighed impatiently. “We can’t spend the entire week lying about like this. It’s a crashing bore.”
Caroline sat up and glanced around. “We could go shopping. I’m up for that.”
“We can shop at home. Don’t you want to explore the island? We’re in Fiji. There are jungles and volcanoes and—well, I don’t know what else. I want to see something amazing.”
“Do they have a Tiffany’s here? We could go look at diamonds,” Cecily said. “They’re amazing.”
“Have a drink, Serena,” Lizzy said. “Relax”
A long silence descended over the group. Maybe they were right. Maybe she should just relax for a day and let everyone decompress from the flight. Then they’d all want to do something tomorrow.
“Who is that?” Lizzy asked, tugging her sunglasses down and staring toward the beach. “Is that our pool boy? Oh, my, I call dibs. That man is going to be in my bed tonight.”
“Then I get him tomorrow night,” Arabella said.
Serena sat up and gazed toward the beach, then smiled. “That’s not the pool boy, that’s Quinn.” All four girls turned and looked at her for further explanation. “Ryan Quinn? He was on the plane with us last night. He helped you with your bags?”
“He’s the butler?” Lizzy asked.
“He’s the adventure guide,” Serena said. She waved to him as he approached, taking a moment to admire the sight. He was dressed in board shorts and nothing more. His tanned chest was muscled, his shoulders wide. He looked impossibly fit but not the fit that came from hours with a trainer. His skin gleamed with a sheen of sweat, and it looked as if he’d been running on the beach.
“Bloody hell, Serena, you’re drooling.”
Serena glanced over at Caroline. “What?”
“Hi,” Ryan said as he climbed the steps to the pool terrace. His gaze was fixed on her and he didn’t seem to notice the other four women there.
“Good morning,” she said. “Or afternoon.”
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. Her heart skipped and Serena drew a deep breath. He was so much sexier in the light of day.
“I did. Sleep. But now I’m ready for some excitement. Adventure.” She cleared her throat. “Ryan, let me introduce you to my bridesmaids. Lizzy Stanton is on the end. And that’s Arabella Moulton-Gray,” she continued. “This is my maid of honor, Cecily Winston. And that’s Caroline Pentwell.”
“Hello,” Ryan said, gifting them all with a charming smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve got a great plan for this afternoon if you’re up for it.”
Serena nodded. “Absolutely.”
“When would you like to go?” he asked.
“Now,” Serena said. “I’m ready now.”
“Let me change and I’ll meet you all out front in ten minutes. Wear sturdy shoes.” He glanced down at Serena’s feet. “Like those.”
He waved and walked to the house, five pairs of eyes fixed on his retreat.
“That man needs an agent. He is all kinds of hot,” Arabella said. She turned to Serena. “And you, my darling Serena, are smitten.”
Serena gasped. “What?”
“Totally smitten,” Cecily said. “So, how was he in bed?”
“I did not sleep with him!” Serena cried.
“Then what was all that talk about sleeping well?” Caroline asked. “And that stare. He looked like he was about to devour you.”
“In case you’ve all forgotten, I’m getting married next month.”
“Yeah, but you don’t love Ben,” Arabella said.
Serena frowned. “What—what makes you say that?”
“You never talk about him,” Cecily said. “You haven’t mentioned him once since we left L.A. We understand. It’s all for show. And it’s a great PR move. We’ll play our part.”
“I’d do the same if I had the chance,” Caroline said. “And after a while, you just get a divorce. It’s no big deal. Every great actress goes through a few marriages before she finds the one that works.”
“Besides, Ben messes around,” Cecily said. “You should be able to have some fun of your own.”
Serena scrambled off her chaise. “It’s not like that. And I am not smitten with Ryan Quinn. Now get up and get dressed. We’re going on an adventure.” She spun around and stalked toward the house. They were right. She didn’t love Ben. She’d been able to convince herself she did, at first, but somewhere between the cheating and the time apart, she’d realized what she really wanted.
She’d fallen for the fantasy, the security of love and marriage, the happily-ever-after. Her parents, both actors, had divorced when she was six and had stumbled through a long series of affairs and marriages. Why had she thought she’d be any different?
She stopped and turned around, then strode back to the girls when she realized they weren’t following. “Are you coming or not?”
Lizzy waved her off. “Let’s just say we did and stay here. I’m still working on my hangover from last night and the jet lag is starting to set in.”
“Count me out,” Caroline said.
“Me, too,” Lizzy added.
Serena frowned. “Bella, you’ll come, right?”
Arabella groaned. “Maybe tomorrow, Serena. I really want to work on my tan. A real tan is so much nicer than a spray tan, and I’m just so white right now. But you go, if you want. Sounds like...fun.” She lowered her sunglasses. “Just be careful. You don’t want a guy like that going to the tabloids and telling all.”
“I’m not going to sleep with him,” Serena shouted. “God, you are the worst bridesmaids in the world.” When she got into the house, Juni was waiting for her with a large basket. “A picnic,” she said. “In case you get hungry?”
Serena took the basket from her. “Thank you. That was thoughtful.”
“He is waiting out front. Are the others coming?”
“No, they just want to rest.”
Juni frowned, her eyebrow arching. “Not very good bridesmaids, I’d say.”
Serena laughed. “No, Juni, not good at all.”
She passed Miles in the hall. “I’m leaving.”
“Wait. Let me grab the camera and I’ll come along,” he said.
“No need. My bridesmaids are staying behind. It’s just me and Ryan.”
“Alone? Just the two of you?” Miles asked. “Wait a moment. Are you really sure you should—”
“Don’t worry, Miles. I’ll behave myself.”
She found Ryan leaning casually against the van parked in the circular drive. She handed him the basket, then pointed to the Jeep parked behind it. “Do you have the keys?” she asked.
“I think they’re already inside,” he replied. “But we can’t take that. There’s not enough room.”
“It’s just going to be you and me,” she said. “And I’ll drive. But we’ve got to move quick or we’ll have to take Miles.” She hopped in behind the wheel and waited for him to get inside.
He tossed his day pack in the backseat, then tucked the basket in a spot on the floor before sliding into the passenger seat.
“Forget my lazy bridesmaids.” She reached for the ignition, and the Jeep roared to life. Serena smiled. “Who cares about them? I’m going to do what I want to do.”
With a hoot, she threw the Jeep into gear and pressed the accelerator to the floor just as Miles emerged from the front door.
Right now, she wanted to forget about the wedding and Ben and the mess that she’d created. She wanted to forget about her bridesmaids and publicity photos and her career. Serena wanted a lovely day with sunshine and happiness and beauty. She’d decide about the rest of it later.
* * *
IT WAS THE perfect day, Ryan mused. The sky was blue, the air was warm and the scents of Fiji filled his head. And for once, he planned to have some fun on the job.
He was usually worried about one thing or another in his professional life, but what could go wrong today? No one was going to fall off a mountainside, no one was going to freeze to death or succumb to altitude sickness. And he had an entire afternoon with Serena Hightower.
Ryan knew he had to ignore his attraction, or at least control it. So he’d decided to admire her from a distance and keep his feelings to himself. He’d be a professional and wouldn’t let his attraction show.
He didn’t have to remind himself that she was engaged. That fact was firmly embedded in his brain. And yet the moment he looked at her, Ryan forgot all about that wall between them. Instead, his mind was hijacked with thoughts of seduction, of casting aside moral objections and letting passion take over.
He drew a deep breath and made a silent vow to behave himself.
She drove along the coastal highway for a few kilometers, then turned inland, smoothly navigating the curves as they headed into the hills. Ryan gave her directions, and they left the paved road and started down a narrow dirt track cut out of the thick rain forest.
“Sorry about the other girls,” Serena said. “They’re really not the hiking sort.”
“This is your hen party. Shouldn’t they do what you want to do? I thought that was their duty as bridesmaids and as friends.”
“They’re not really my friends. I mean, I know them, but we’re not friends.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My wedding planner picked them. Mostly because they looked great in the dresses she chose. They agreed because it’s great publicity for them. And I really didn’t care.”
Was she just exaggerating or was this the truth? Did she have no friends of her own? She was sweet and funny and seemed as though she’d attract friends as easily as she’d attracted him. But then, Ryan could answer only for the males in the crowd.
He glanced over and stole a long look. She was dressed in a simple T-shirt and hiking shorts, her hair in a ponytail, pulled away from her pretty face. He studied her profile—the perfectly set eyes, the straight nose, the lush lips. She was Hollywood beauty. But yet, in this setting, without makeup and a fancy dress, she seemed normal...approachable.
He found the contrast intriguing. Who was this woman who could so easily exist in both his world and that strange, glamorous world of the movies? The more he got to know her, the more complicated she became.
They found the trail to the waterfall he’d researched earlier, and Serena pulled the car into a small clearing and switched off the ignition. Ryan grabbed his day pack and slung it over his shoulder, then picked up the picnic basket.
Since the waterfall was a local secret, the path wasn’t well-worn, and Ryan had to watch carefully so that they didn’t wander in the wrong direction. “What about your real friends?” he asked, reaching out to help her over a muddy spot. “You must have had someone you wanted to pick as a bridesmaid. A sister?”
“I’m an only child.” She glanced over at him. “And I don’t really have a lot of friends,” Serena explained. “I’ve always been a bit of a loner.” She shrugged indifferently. He could see that talking about the past troubled her. “I know. It sounds pathetic, but I grew up with parents who were always on one movie set or another. When I was with either my mom or dad on set, I had a tutor, and I hung around adults all day long. When I was at home, I played with the housekeeper. I just never figured out how to make friends. Or maybe I never wanted friends.”
“Who do you hang out with now? When you’re not working on a movie?”
“There’s Ben. But mostly my dogs.”
“And they don’t look good in the dresses?” Ryan teased.
“I have five dogs,” she said, giggling. “And I would have had them as attendants, but the wedding planner wouldn’t allow it. They’re all rescues. They live at my country house outside London. My housekeeper takes care of them when I’m gone. Do you have dogs?”
“One. Duffy. He lives with my sister, Dana, most of the time, but he stays with me or my brothers when we’re home.”
“You should get more dogs. One is not enough. Lots of dogs need adopting.”
He held out his hand to her again, to help her over a steep spot on the path. But this time, he didn’t let go. The track widened and they were able to walk side by side up a gentle rise, their pace slowing. In the distance, Ryan heard the sound of water.
“I think we’re getting close.” Serena pulled him along the path, and a few moments later, they emerged into a clearing. A soft gasp slipped from her lips and she sighed. They stood at the edge of a clear pool. Above him, water cascaded off a rock cliff and tumbled into the far edge of the pool. “It’s beautiful.”
Ryan had become a bit jaded when it came to natural beauty. He’d seen some of the most extraordinary sights in the world, and he’d always felt the need to rank them in order of perfection, rather than simply enjoy the sight. This was different. He could relax and enjoy what he was seeing. “It is bloody awesome.”
“Good job,” she said, bumping his shoulder with hers. She started toward the edge of the pond. “Do you think if we climb up there, we could jump into the water?”
“There’s supposed to be a spot for that on the right,” he explained, dropping his day pack. “But maybe we ought to leave the jumping for another day. If you crack your head, I’d have to carry you out of here and—”
“You promised me adventure. I want adventure.”
“All right, but first we should make sure the pool is deep enough.”
She tugged her T-shirt over her head, and to Ryan’s surprise, she wasn’t wearing a bikini—she was wearing a lacy black bra. Her shorts came off next, revealing a leopard-print thong. To his great relief, she didn’t remove anything else, and he drew a shaky breath as she walked toward the edge of the pool.
Serena turned around and motioned to him. “Come on.”
He had made a promise to himself, and Ryan Quinn always kept his promises. He yanked off his T-shirt and followed her. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the water with her, gliding out into the center of the pool, their fingers still linked.
“Let me check the depth. I’ll be right back,” he said. Ryan dove beneath the surface, moving down, away from the light. The water was clear, though, and he could easily gauge the distance to the bottom of the pool. He came to the surface, beneath the rock ledge. “It looks good.”
She swam over to him. “I’m glad I have you to look after me.”
“Just doing my job, miss.”
“And you do it so well.”
Serena crawled out of the pool and began to scale the rocks to the right of the waterfall. Ryan climbed up behind her, watching to make sure her footing was secure along the way. She moved with an easy grace and a confidence that surprised him. That was becoming a pattern with Serena. She was always surprising him.
When they reached the ledge, Serena held out her hand. “We have to jump together,” she said.
“All right,” Ryan said. “You count it down.”
She drew a deep breath. “Three. Two. One.”
They leaped off the twenty-foot ledge and fell into the pool, the water rushing up and over them as they broke the surface. Ryan lost his hold on Serena’s hand but felt her body brush against his as he kicked toward the light. She was laughing when he came up in front of her.
Ryan stared into her pretty face, noticing the droplets of water clinging to her lashes. He reached out and smoothed a strand of hair off her cheek, and she turned into his touch, her eyelids fluttering.
Every instinct urged him to kiss her, to take advantage of the moment and forget all that was keeping them apart. But she was engaged, and until she told him differently, he intended to respect that.
“I can’t believe you made that jump,” he said, swimming away from her. “I guess you were right to ask for an adventure guide.”
“Uh-oh.” She reached beneath the surface and, a moment later, raised her hand, her torn bra dangling from her fingertips. “This didn’t survive the fall,” she said, tossing it onto the shore.
Ryan groaned inwardly. Was she tempting him on purpose? “You shouldn’t have done that,” he warned.
Serena looked at him, a quizzical arch to her eyebrow. “Everyone on the planet has seen me naked, Quinn. I’m sure you looked me up on Google and found the pictures.”
“What pictures?”
“The pictures. Of me and one of my former boyfriends, having a bit of a romp on a yacht in the Mediterranean.” She frowned. “You haven’t seen them?”
“Nope.”
Her gaze narrowed and she observed him suspiciously. “How much do you know about me?”
“I know that you’re an actress and you have a movie coming out after Christmas and you’re getting married before the movie comes out.”
“Have you ever watched one of my films?” she asked.
Ryan winced, then shook his head. “I plan on watching them all when I get home. But right now...no, not a one.”
“You’re lying.”
“I don’t go to the movies much. At least not in the last seven or eight years. I spend most of my time in places that don’t have television or movie theatres—or running water.”
“Turn around,” she said, pointing at him. “Right now. Turn around.”
Ryan did as he was told. He heard splashing behind him and he smiled. He didn’t have to see her; he could imagine exactly what she looked like, emerging from the pool, almost naked, her wet body gleaming in the shafts of sunlight that broke through the cover of the trees.
Though he had vowed to fight the temptations of her body, Ryan risked a glance, then immediately regretted it. She stood on the shore, her back to him. His gaze skimmed her body from her shoulders to the sweet curves of her backside, then along her shapely legs. She was like some water nymph, a creature from a magical world.
He felt his body react, so Ryan spun away and swam toward the waterfall. He dove beneath the surface and stroked hard until he reached the edge of the pool, trying to forget the image burned in his brain.
“All right,” she called. “I’m decent.”
Ryan turned around and swam back to the other side of the pool. “Thank you.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I usually don’t have any inhibitions when it comes to nudity. When you’ve gone starkers on the big screen, there’s not much mystery left.”
“I can just imagine,” he murmured.
* * *
THEY SPENT THE entire afternoon at the waterfall. Ryan retrieved the picnic basket from the Jeep and they opened a bottle of wine and sat on a blanket at the edge of the pool, watching the sunlight sparkle across the surface of the water.
“It’s been a perfect day, Quinn,” Serena murmured, drawing her knees up to her chest and fixing her gaze on her handsome companion. “I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun, doing something I wanted to do.” She paused, then reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you.”
“I try to please,” Ryan said.
“I wish we could stay here. You could build us a nice little hut right over there. I could raise some chickens. We could have a simple life.”
“You don’t have to stay here to have a simple life,” he suggested.
There were times when Serena thought that Ryan understood her perfectly. And then, there were moments like this one, when she realized they lived in completely different worlds.
Ben, on the other hand, understood the life of a professional actor, the choices she’d had to make, the difficulties of being a celebrity. That’s one of the reasons why she’d agreed to marry him.
“Tell me about this man of yours,” Ryan said, stretching out on the blanket. He lay on his side and watched her silently, as if he were able to read her mind.
“I don’t want to talk about Ben,” Serena said, shaking her head.
“You’re marrying him in a few weeks. I’d think you’d want to talk about him. Or the wedding. Or your plans for the future.”
She didn’t want to argue with him if he was determined to force the issue. “All right, what do you want to know? Ask me anything. I can tell you about the flower arrangements and the groomsmen’s gifts. I can describe my dress and—”
“Why are you not wearing your ring?” Ryan said, pointing to her hand.
“I—I left it in my room,” she said. “I didn’t want to lose it.”
“Is that the real reason?”
What did he want her to say? Did he want her to admit that she was attracted to him? “No,” she finally said. “I guess I just wanted to forget the wedding for an afternoon.”
“Are you having doubts?”
She laughed softly, then covered her face with her hands. “It’s too late to have doubts, Quinn. I can’t back out now. Everything is planned. And I already have a reputation as a reckless nitwit—a reputation that was well earned when I was younger. But that’s not me now. People are just starting to take me seriously.”
“Is that why you said yes?”
“I also really wanted to believe I was in love and that I could finally have something...normal. That I wouldn’t be alone anymore.”
“So call it off,” Ryan said.
She couldn’t look at him. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to resist him any longer. She was fighting so hard against this attraction. It should be easy, but there was something so comforting about him. Though she barely knew him, Serena sensed that she could trust him.
“My life would be a shambles if I did.” She sat up, drawing a deep breath and gathering her resolve. “I’m going to get married. And in a year or two, if it becomes impossible to carry on, I’ll get a divorce. No one will be surprised. Hollywood marriages never work out the first time.”
“And that’s what you think you deserve?” Ryan asked.
“No. But it’s my fault I let it get this far. It’s a runaway train now. I can’t stop it without the entire thing going off the rails. So many people will be upset with me.”
“But it’s your life,” Ryan said. “You do what makes you happy.”
“How many people are really happy with their lives? We all make sacrifices and compromises,” Serena said. “Are you completely happy with your life, Quinn?”
Ryan considered her question for a long moment. “Not entirely,” he said. “But I’m planning to make some changes.” He cursed softly, shaking his head. “So, where should we put this hut? Over there? Or there?”
Serena lay down, stretching out opposite him and meeting his gaze. “Why aren’t you happy?”
“There have been lots of changes lately.”
“Like?”
“Both of my brothers are settling down and getting married. I’m not real happy with my job. I need a change, but I can’t afford to do what I want to do. And then, my brothers are trying to talk me into climbing Everest, and I’m not real keen on the idea.”
“Isn’t that what you do?”
“My father was a climber and he died on Everest. They found his body last spring and we’re supposed to go up there to retrieve his personal effects. But it’s opening a lot of old wounds that never completely healed.”
“Wow,” she murmured. “And I thought my wedding problems were bad.”
She placed her hand between her and Ryan, her fingers splayed across the blanket, just inches from his face. Serena wanted to touch him, to run her hand over his face. Her fingers trembled and a moment later, Ryan covered her hand with his.
It was such a simple point of contact, and yet it seemed even more intimate than a kiss or a caress. How much longer could she fight this attraction to him? It was wrong, yet it felt right. But was it real? Was she just transferring her hopes for normalcy and belonging from Ben to Ryan? Or was there something between them that went beyond a sexual attraction? That was the question Serena couldn’t answer.
“It’s feels so odd when you touch me,” she murmured, her gaze fixed on his hand. He drew his hand away, but she caught his fingers and laced them through hers. “Am I cheating?”
“I don’t know,” Ryan said. “Are you?”
“I feel like I am.”
“Then we should stop,” Ryan said.
She yanked her hand away and sat up. “You’re right. We should probably go. It’s getting late and the girls are going to wonder where we are. Miles is probably ready to call the local police.”
“Would it make it easier if I left Fiji?” Ryan asked. “I can. I’ll call one of my brothers, and he could be on a plane in a few hours, to take over. I can assure you, they’re not nearly as charming as I am.”
Serena knew she ought to accept his offer. It was the only safe thing to do. But in her heart, she didn’t think it would make a difference. She’d already started down this road—the road away from Ben and toward Ryan—and with every step, she was more determined not to turn back.
“No,” she said. “We can control our impulses. But maybe we should make sure that we don’t spend a lot of time alone.”
“You’re right,” he said. “If the girls don’t want to come along, we’ll bring Miles.”
“It’s a plan,” she said.
“There is one thing I’d like to say before we leave.”
“Do I want to hear it?” Serena asked.
“Probably not. But I’m going to say it anyway. You deserve to be happy. You deserve everything good in life, and you shouldn’t settle for anything less.”
“So you think I should call off the wedding, Quinn?”
“I can’t tell you to do that,” Ryan said.
“Of course you can,” Serena countered. “Just say it. Say ‘Serena, call off the wedding.’ It’s not that hard. Everyone has an opinion.”
“Everyone does.”
“Say it,” Serena insisted.
“I can’t. I won’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have less noble reasons for saying something like that. Because I want to kiss you again. I want to touch you without feeling guilty. And I don’t want to be the bloke who ruined your wedding.”
Serena stood up. “See? This is my problem. No one ever tells me the truth. They only tell me what they think I want to hear. I can’t make my own decisions. I never have been able to. I’m the princess of self-doubt. And now, when I am finally ready to make a decision, everyone is telling me not to. So just give me the truth. Tell me that I can call off this wedding and it might be messy for a while but everything will be all right.”
She saw the conflict in his expression, and Serena understood his reluctance to get involved. He was right. What man wanted to be responsible for breaking up the current Hollywood supercouple? No doubt word would leak out about the cause of her abandoned wedding. There were four women on this trip who would gladly sell the story to the tabloids. And he had his own reputation to worry about.
“All right,” she said. “I understand. I’m being ridiculous.”
“Serena, I—”
“No,” she said, pressing a finger to his lips. “This has been a pleasant little diversion, but you’re right. We’ll keep our distance and always have a chaperone.”
“If that’s what you want,” he said. “At the end of the week, I’ll just tell Thom that you wanted to relax and that the adventure part of the trip didn’t happen.”
Serena nodded. It was a reasonable compromise. And it gave her time. She had to make her own decisions. Right now, she had no idea what she was going to do, but by the end of the week, she’d have it all sorted out.
3 (#ulink_3db7adfb-f674-54cc-afdc-f968f5daedbe)
THE SUN WAS just barely over the horizon when Ryan walked into the kitchen. Juni and Arthur were enjoying their breakfast, but both of them got to their feet when he entered. “Sit,” Ryan said. “I can get my own coffee.” He poured himself a mug and joined them at the table.
“What can I make you for breakfast?” Juni asked.
He pointed to a plate of fresh bread. “I’ll have a bit of that? What is it?”
“Bibingka,” Juni said. “It is a bread made of cassava, coconut cream, eggs and cheese. I’ve made scones for the misses. And I have fresh papaya and mango. May I make you an omelet?”
“No, this sounds good, thanks,” Ryan said. He grabbed a piece of the bibingka and took a bite. “Umm. I’ve never eaten anything quite like this. It’s delicious.”
Arthur nodded. “My wife makes excellent bibingka. A tasty prawn curry, too. She is a very good cook.”
There was pride and affection in Arthur’s smile. He’d seen that same look on Mal’s face when he talked about Amy, and in Rogan’s expression when he spoke about Claudia. It was like some secret knowledge that men had when they were in love, and until now, he hadn’t really understood. But now he did.
He felt the same when he thought about Serena, about all the qualities that made her such an amazing woman. And he wasn’t even in love with her.
“Have another,” Juni said, holding out the plate of bibingka. Startled out of his thoughts, Ryan accepted the offer. He made a mental note to ask Juni to recommend some Fijian restaurants. Now that he had more time, he could enjoy everything the island had to offer, including its cuisine. But first he had to work up an appetite.
“Arthur, I’d like to go surfing today. I understand there are some awesome reef breaks off Nadi, but I need to get a board.”
“Mr. Thom has some surfboards,” Arthur said. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you used them. I’ll get them out for you.”

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