Chapter Three

Jaime embraced her new identity as fully as she could, flouncing across the sand in a bikini she'd never imagined she'd have the courage to wear in public. Her intention was to keep this new, single persona - 'Susanna' - completely separate from Jaime Sommers. She chose a padded lounge chair just slightly off to the side from the main action on the beach. Her goal, after all, was not to blend in. After accepting an iced pineapple juice from a scantily-clad waiter, she scanned the crowd but saw no sign of Marcos, or of Steve.

She tried focusing on various conversations, but the only plans she heard being made seemed to be for an impending orgy, not an assassination. Feeling somewhat drowsy in the midday tropical sun, Jaime closed her eyes.

His voice was so soft and so smooth that at first Jaime thought she was drifting somewhere in dreamland. "Well now, a woman as beautiful as you are shouldn't be spending the best part of the day alone."

Jaime opened her eyes slowly. Yes, it was Marcos, and she took a quick moment to catch her breath when she saw that his eyes were an even lighter, brighter shade of blue than they'd seemed in the photo. She gave him her sweetest smile. "Maybe I was waiting...for you."

"Beautiful and charming! You are someone I need to know." He bent down with just the right flourish and kissed Jaime's hand. "I'm Alex."

"Susanna."

"I hate to seem too forward, but I'd love to buy you a drink," he said softly.

"Alright; I think I'd like that."

Two drinks later, Alex was still oozing charm from every pore, and Jaime obviously had his full attention. She discovered that he wasn't staying in one of the cottages or the cabanas. He was renting the villa - the island's version of a VIP suite, more closely resembling a large ranch home. There were six bedrooms, each with its own bath, a large private dining room and a smaller, more intimate dining alcove. With great (hidden) satisfaction, Jaime accepted Alex's invitation to have dinner at the villa, served by his private chef.

In the short amount of time Jaime took to return to her cottage to get dressed, Alex worked a minor miracle. The alcove's small glass table was set with a dozen white votive candles glowing in the center. He bowed gallantly and, touching her for the first time, put an arm around Jaime's waist to lead her to her chair, where a single rose waited next to her plate. In spite of herself, Jaime was enchanted.

She watched Alex as closely as she dared through the multiple courses of a gourmet dinner, fascinated by his eyes. Jaime had never seen eyes that color, and in order to avoid becoming enthralled by the way they seemed to so gently penetrate deep inside her, she watched him watching her. Susanna came vividly to life, hanging on Alex's every word, smiling and laughing flirtatiously while Jaime studied her subject. He was soft-spoken, romantic and smooth without seeming the least bit slimy or false. She realized that if she was actually single, she'd already be falling for him - hard.

"What do you do, Alex?" Jaime asked him. "When you're not chasing women out of their beach chairs, I mean."

Alex smiled warmly. "I own a private helicopter touring business. My choppers go wherever they're hired to go, within reason, of course. No war zones and nothing that would put my pilots at undue risk."

"Wow!" she gushed as Susanna. Jaime filed every detail away for possible future use. "How many helicopters? Do you actually fly one yourself?"

"I've got six for the company, and one of my own. I fly mine more for pleasure, though."

Jaime prided herself on her ability to read people, and she was having trouble reconciling the man who sat across from her with what Oscar had said about him. The pieces just didn't fit...

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Steve, meanwhile, was a million miles away - in his head - from the flock of girls who were already trying to grab his attention. He'd assured Oscar that Jaime was ready to work again, but was she really? He kept picturing Franklin Bailey dangling her limp body over the hole he'd dug to serve as her grave. Bailey's intention had been to hurt Steve in the worst way possible, and his plan was to bury Jaime alive. Steve had always known his wife was resilient, but he was amazed the incident hadn't given her nightmares. He'd had them; still did. Now, as he gazed down the beach toward the villa, Jaime and Alex were just emerging and Steve had to watch another man put his hands on her, albeit for a very different reason. It hurt him terribly, tearing holes straight through his heart, but for some bizarre reason, he was unable to look away.

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It had been a wonderful dinner, one they'd lingered over for hours, until they no longer felt like strangers. Jaime wasn't sure how much of what he'd told her was really true, but when she'd summed up her life for him, it had been a great work of fiction, so lies all around the table seemed only fair and fitting.

Alex led Jaime to the edge of the water with his arm around her waist. As he turned to look at her, his other arm moved very gently around her as well, completely encircling her. "You're even more beautiful in the moonlight...if that's possible," he told her, his eyes soft and happy. Jaime held her breath, sensing what would probably happen next, trying to be prepared.

She was right. Alex's eyes locked magnetically into hers as he leaned in, ever-so-slowly, to brush his lips against Jaime's. Jaime was surprised to discover that...it wasn't terrible.

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