Breaker's Passion

Leaving a trail of broken hearts scattered across the islands, surf instructor Colby
Taylor, aka Breaker, is running full speed away from her selfish actions years earlier.
Hiding in the crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean, the last thing she expects to
encounter is Elizabeth Collins, a stuffy, judgmental college professor forced down her
own escape path. Elizabeth is uncharacteristically drawn to the mysterious surfer but
can’t picture herself having a vacation fling, or any other relationship with the enigmatic
Breaker.

Set in the backdrop of Maui, one of Hawaii’s most beautiful islands, both women must
overcome their doubts and apprehensions to discover the true beauty of life—each
other.

Chapter One

The nightmare always began the same. Bodies bathed in sweat. Arms and legs twisted among
wrinkled sheets damp from hours of passion. The only noise in the room came from the two
figures bound together in pleasure. It wasn’t until the barest rays of dawn peeked over the
horizon that silence engulfed the room. The next sound was the sick, piercing scream.
Earsplitting at first, it started to diminish second after second, softer and softer until silence
reigned again.

Colby woke with a start. The crushing weight in her chest, the room spinning, her face
drenched in sweat were familiar. The pounding in her temples overwhelmed her, not letting up.
She shook her head, running her fingers through her short black hair and squeezing tight, as if
the pain that her action caused would stop the throbbing.

It took her a few moments to realize the pounding wasn’t inside her head, but outside her small
apartment. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and walked naked across the room.
Opening the curtain she looked down to see a group of seven or eight people by her front door,
one of them knocking. It was her eight a.m. surfing class. Colby stepped back before any of
the eager students noticed her bare breasts through the window above their head. Grabbing a
T-shirt off the chair beside her, she pulled it over her head before she opened the window.

“Hey, sorry about that. Be down in a second.” Colby waved, then slid the window shut.

She brushed her teeth and washed her face in less than five minutes. Her hands had finally
stopped shaking from the nightmare as she stepped outside into the new day. No matter how
bright the sun, every morning transformed the nightmare into reality.

Elizabeth was ready to explode. She’d been waiting in baggage claim for the last ninety minutes
with no sign of her luggage. She fumed again, though Elizabeth Collins never lost her temper.
She was always calm and composed. Libra was her astrological sign—the scales. She was
well-balanced in both her personal and professional life and rarely experienced the highs and

lows that most people did. An ex-girlfriend had said she was inhibited. During one of their many
ugly fights, another called her frigid. She didn’t care what people thought. She was comfortable
with herself, except for right now.

Elizabeth looked around one more time. Another crowd of people eager to begin their dream
vacations descended on baggage claim, grabbing their luggage as it tumbled off conveyor belt
#4. For the past thirty minutes, eight such crowds had come and gone. To her left a single
green bag circled clockwise around belt #2, going nowhere, obviously unclaimed. Elizabeth was
too pissed off to wonder about its owner.

She seemed to have been going around in circles with the lone bag. First, no sign of her
suitcases, then a trip to customer service, then back to baggage claim, and again back to the
same woman at the customer-service counter, who this time assured her that her three
suitcases were on the next inbound flight. Three flights later Elizabeth was still wondering which
next she was referring to. This wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare.

The warm Hawaiian air made a bead of sweat snake between her breasts, and she was glad
she had put her shoulder-length blond hair up with a large clip. The humidity would make her
curls even more unmanageable. The entire baggage-claim area was open, with no doors or
windows, simply a dozen or more thick cement columns supporting a tall roof. Luggage carts,
lined up at least sixty deep between carousels #1 and #2, were waiting to be loaded with
tourist baggage. Two vending machines prepared to spit out Coke products and junk food
stood on the far wall next to the entrance to the restrooms. Behind her was the required
Starbucks stand and next to it a small magazine outlet. Apart from the open-air baggage-claim
area and the sign on the ladies’ room door that said Wahine, the biggest surprise of island life
so far was that the TSA security screeners wore shorts.

A steady breeze blew through the entrance, causing tourist brochures to flap in their holders.
She had read just about every one while waiting for her AWOL bags to appear and learned that
while she was on the island she could do everything from visiting an aquarium and sailing down
a zip line to eating every kind of seafood imaginable.

She reached for her phone, but before she had a chance to flip it open, it rang. Recognizing the
number displayed on the face, she didn’t mince words.

“What?”

“Jesus, Elizabeth, you’re in paradise, supposed to be relaxing with a fruity drink in your hand,
not biting my head off.”

“Sorry, Diane. I’m still at the airport waiting for my luggage.”

“I thought you’d be on the beach by now.”

Elizabeth gave her best friend, Diane Tatum, the CliffsNotes version of her trip so far. “What’s
up?” she finally asked.

“My mother broke her hip.” Diane’s New York accent echoed in her ear. Mother sounded more
like muth-a.

“What?” Elizabeth wasn’t sure if she understood because another flock of tourists heading
toward the baggage carousel had distracted her.

“I said my mother broke her hip. She tripped over that goddamn mutt of hers and fell. She was
on the floor all night before she was able to get to the phone and call me.”

Elizabeth’s stomach knotted. She had spent so much time at Diane’s house when she was
growing up, Lucille Tatum had been almost as much a constant in her life as her own mother.

“My God, Diane, how is she?”

“Not good.” Diane sighed into the phone, sounding weary. “The doctor said it’s practically
shattered. She needs a hip replacement. She’s in a lot of pain and heavily sedated. Surgery is
the day after tomorrow.”

Recovering from the shock, Elizabeth started walking toward the ticket counter. Maybe she
could get a return flight to the mainland on the next US Airways flight. “Look, I’ll come back.
You’ll need help with her when she’s recovering.”

“Don’t.” Diane’s voice was firm, and Elizabeth stopped as though Diane had reached through
the cell-phone waves and grabbed her. “There’s nothing you can do here. She’ll be in the
hospital for about a week, then off to a rehab facility for at least a month or two. I want you to
stay. You need a vacation, Elizabeth. You promised me you’d relax.”

After months of needling, she had promised Diane she would do just that. She had been more
keyed up lately, at least for her, and as much as she had dragged her feet on this trip, she
knew it would be good for her.

“She won’t die. She’ll live another thirty years. That dog of hers might not make it through
tomorrow, though, if I have to take care of it.” Diane was beginning to sound like her normal
sarcastic self.

“Di—”

“No, Elizabeth,” Diane barked back at her. “If I find out you came back I’ll kick your butt.”

With relief she saw her bags pop out of the chute. A few more words with Diane, then she hung
up. She glanced at her watch, furious. It was almost one thirty. She slung her backpack over
her shoulder, grabbed her luggage, and headed for the rental-car counter.

Elizabeth looked at her watch for the third time in almost as many minutes while the rental-car
attendant demonstrated how the sleek sedan transformed into a sleeker convertible with just a
click of a button. She knew how these things worked, but this guy probably had to follow rules
and regulations and procedures to reduce their liability if she did something stupid like try to
open the top while driving. Trying to exhibit more patience than she felt, Elizabeth listened to the
safety instructions, where she could and couldn’t take the vehicle, blah, blah, blah.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, he handed her the keys, wished her a good day, and
she was on her way. She asked how to get to her hotel as she exited the rental-car lot. After a
quick left turn, then a right, Elizabeth slid her Ray-Bans on her face, her Arizona Diamondbacks
cap on her head, and stepped on the gas.

Traffic was light, at least in comparison to what she was used to, and she maneuvered the car
in and out of the unimpressive vehicles on the road. The cars in the Enterprise lot were either

Jeep Wranglers, convertibles like hers, or minivans. God forbid she would ever be caught
driving a minivan. Even if by some strange luck she found herself with half a dozen kids she
would never, ever own one. They were the pure symbol of white-middle-class heterosexuality.
She was more the Cadillac Escalade kind of woman.

Passing the requisite Home Depot, Costco, and Kmart on her left, Elizabeth was soon enjoying
the cool air as she made her way west out of town. After she turned left on the Honoapiilani
Highway, traffic was almost nonexistent and she increased her speed. She was still pissed off
about the luggage delay, but the green rolling hills on the right calmed her.

Even though the entire island was formed of lava rock, the sheer fortitude of Mother Nature
created a lush, tropical landscape. In preparation for the trip, Elizabeth had kept a close eye on
the weather forecast and knew Maui had received an unusually large amount of rainfall
recently. The greenery along the highway confirmed it.

Three or four miles farther, the shoreline finally appeared to her left, as beautiful and
breathtaking as Elizabeth had imagined. It was early afternoon and the sun was still high in the
sky behind her, reflecting off the crystal-clear blue ocean and the crashing white waves. The
sight of the cresting waves and the clear sky, with other islands off in the distance, affected her
with surprising intensity.

She was not emotional. Far from it. She was analytical, looking for a reason and an explanation
for just about everything. In fact, Diane often teased her, had tagged her emotional stability a
flatline. At first she was amused, but the more she thought about the term the more she didn’t
like it. She was pleased she didn’t suffer the emotional highs and lows of her friends, but the
reference to flatline indicated no heartbeat, no pulse, and no life. She wasn’t dead. Far from it.
She was alive and lived life fully. She was happy. At least she thought she was.

As she drove, she remembered a recent conversation when one of her friends called at ten
p.m. sobbing because she had just broken up with her girlfriend. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. It
was ridiculous. Her friend had known this woman all of six months and she was heartbroken,
practically wailing into the telephone with words like “I’ll never love again,” “How could she do
this to me,” and “We were perfect together.” How could she be so emotionally upset when their
relationship ended? Elizabeth hadn’t acted even close to that bad when she had finally admitted
her relationship with Sarah was over.

She had met Sarah eight years earlier in a public library, both of them reaching for the same
copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s collected poems. Dozens of lunches, dinners, cups of coffee, and
sleepovers later, Elizabeth finally admitted they were a couple. Sarah had wanted to live
together, but Elizabeth had drawn the line at that point. She had watched far too many friends
become typical lesbians and move in with each other after one or two months. No way would
she humiliate herself by doing the same thing, only to find that after a few months the
relationship fizzled and one of them was left trying to find a new place to live. With her luck
she’d be stuck trying to throw Sarah out because they were living in her place.

She rarely thought about Sarah in the years since their relationship ended. It started out fun and
exciting, even lustful, but after several years they discovered they were too much alike. Most
people would consider that a good thing, she and Sarah being exactly alike in temperament.
They weren’t particularly adventurous either inside or outside the bedroom, let alone anywhere

else in their lives. In the beginning of any new relationship the atmosphere at the same old
restaurant always brightened and the food tasted better. The same shops had a new look and
feel, walks were more beautiful, and smells were more acute when you were holding hands
with your new love. But after a while the excitement faded and one day simply melted into
another, which melted into another. With Sarah it melted into four years.

Elizabeth hadn’t tried to analyze the growing discomfort in her sedate relationship. Instead of
feeling relaxed and secure she was anxious, as if she was looking for something but didn’t
know what. Like something might just show up and knock on her door.

Sarah had no idea their relationship was ending when she agreed to Elizabeth’s plans to have
dinner at Sarah’s apartment. Elizabeth didn’t know when to break it to Sarah, but over coffee
and dessert she started the conversation she had rehearsed earlier that day. Sarah took it
surprisingly well, and since they didn’t live together Elizabeth merely had to collect some
toiletries and a few clothes she had left in Sarah’s closet. Two grocery bags later Sarah was
out of her life. Nice and neat.

Sure, it had hurt a little, but she wasn’t sure if it was because she cared for Sarah or because
yet another relationship hadn’t worked out. For some reason she had thought about this sad
fact of her life on the flight over and realized that her relationships with women had fallen into a
pattern, an unsuccessful one. She’d meet someone, they’d hit it off, then the relationship would
go stale, and she’d move on.

Halfway into the flight she’d decided she wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship. She
wasn’t made for one. She never felt overwhelming desire or craved a woman’s touch. She liked
sex, but it never really rang her bell that loud, so to speak, like it did with her friends. Passion,
want, that never-ending thrill of a lover’s touch was critical in a partner. She just didn’t have it in
her.

The honking of a horn brought her attention back to the road. She was alone in a sleek sports
car in paradise and should be acting like it. She was still angry about the luggage fiasco, even
though she should just get over it. The navigation system directed her to turn left in one hundred
yards. Regardless of why she was here alone, she intended to make the most of this vacation.

She pulled into the wide circular drive of the resort. The valet hurried around the front of the
car, opening the driver’s door almost before she slid the gear into Park.

“Good afternoon and welcome to the Carlyle. Do you have a reservation with us?”

“Yes, I do,” she replied, stepping out of the car.

“Wonderful. The lobby is right through those doors.” The young man pointed over her left
shoulder. “I’ll have your luggage sent right up.”

She had three bags; one she had managed to squeeze into the practically nonexistent trunk, the
others were tossed casually into the backseat. Exchanging her last name for a claim check, she
turned toward the lobby, slowing her pace as she approached the sliding doors the valet had
indicated. Everywhere else there were open doorways and large spaces where windows would
have been in a more traditional hotel lobby, but the open floor plan let the freshness of the
warm Hawaiian afternoon drift through.

She walked to the registration desk, her tennis shoes not making a sound on the highly polished
marble floor. Two women behind the desk dressed in twin hotel uniforms looked more like
leaders of an outdoor adventure than desk clerks in a five-star resort. Both of the stunningly
beautiful women smiled as she approached. The woman on the left spoke first, repeating the
question the valet had just asked.

“Checking in?”

“Yes, I’m Elizabeth Collins.”

“One moment, Ms. Collins.” The clerk’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

Elizabeth glanced around the lobby again. The sound of birds chirping was so close and clear
Elizabeth turned around, fully expecting to see them hovering overhead. The woman drew her
attention back.

“Here it is, Ms. Collins. I’m confirming that you’re scheduled to be with us for ten weeks?”

“Yes, that’s correct.” Elizabeth slid her backpack off her shoulder and placed it on the low
counter in front of her.

“All right, Ms. Collins. If I could please see your driver’s license, I can finish checking you in. It
should just take a minute or two.”

Elizabeth finished the rest of the paperwork, then the clerk gave her directions to the wing
where her villa was located. Instead of going directly to her room she needed to stretch her
legs a bit. Between sitting at the airport and the flight itself, she had been inactive for the past
twelve hours and felt groggy and lethargic. She needed sunshine and fresh air.

She quickly exited the lobby and soon stood in front of an entrance to what appeared to be a
miniature tropical rain forest. A brick sidewalk branched to the left and right, and a flagstone
path curved out in front of her and disappeared into the foliage. A waterfall at least twenty feet
high that flowed into a koi pond at her feet was the centerpiece of the entrance. The fish,
between six and eighteen inches long, swam in lazy circles, occasionally breaking the surface
as if searching for their own breath of fresh air. As the water cascaded over the rocks, the
tension in her shoulders soon drifted away and her head cleared. Water did have amazing
healing powers. She looked forward to spending as much time as possible at the beach.

Taking the flagstone path she was quickly engulfed by trees and bushes; barely any light shone
through the thick foliage in some places. A few more steps and she stood in a stunningly
beautiful courtyard surrounded by dozens of bright pink hibiscus open to the sun that cut
through the thick trees. At the other end of the courtyard was a small, blistering white gazebo.
She could practically hear the multitude of wedding vows that had been repeated in the
splendor of these intimate surroundings.

The sound of the ocean drifted into her head, and she turned toward it like a horse picking up
an unfamiliar scent. Drawn to the ocean, she reluctantly left the sanctuary of the courtyard.

The path led her to another small patio, this one covered by a large green cabana and occupied
by a small wedding party. The bride was beaming, the groom looked terrified, and a baby in
the front row was crying. She continued past a flat, wide expanse of green grass with the
dozens of lounge chairs scattered there supporting resort guests in various stages of dress

worshipping the late-afternoon sun. A couple of kids no older than nine or ten were throwing a
Frisbee back and forth while another pair tossed a football.

She passed a small restaurant tucked discreetly behind a large hedge. The clink of silverware
and smell of seafood greeted her as she rounded the corner. Not particularly hungry, she kept
walking past another pool with as many people in the water as out. At several tables guests
were relaxing with pitchers of beer. Other vacationers held red or orange beverages and their
boisterous laughter indicated they had been drinking for some time. She wasn’t big on alcohol.
Rum, the main ingredient of tropical drinks, gave her a headache, but a few mild ones wouldn’t
be too bad.

Holding on to a handrail she untied her left shoe, pulled it off, stuffed her sock inside, then
removed the other one. Two more steps and she was in the sand. Step after step her toes
sank and her calf muscles tightened then relaxed. It was about twenty yards to the water, and
in less than a minute the Pacific Ocean was lapping around her ankles.

As she stood there gazing out over the horizon, salt water splashed the legs of her shorts, but
she didn’t care. For the first time in years she wasn’t on any timetable. She didn’t have to punch
a clock or keep one eye on her BlackBerry for the next meeting reminder to pop up. There was
absolutely no place she had to be for the next ten weeks. She was here to relax and work on
her new book, but her time was her own. The mere thought of the unending free time, the vast
openness of her schedule, her calendar, her life almost overwhelmed her. She seemed to be in
the middle of the ocean in front of her with no land in sight in any direction and nothing to hold
on to. With no anchor she felt adrift and was suddenly uncomfortable.

Sensing she needed a significant change in her life, when she planned this trip she’d
intentionally done nothing more than sketch out how far she wanted to get each day in the
research for her book. She could do everything via the Internet these days, which was very
different from twenty years ago when she’d gathered information for her PhD dissertation on
seventeenth-century tribal warfare in Western Europe. She had spent years in dark, damp
rooms in the back halls of musty old libraries digging through volumes of books with pages
yellowed with age. She loved books—their texture, their smell, the way they fit in her hands.
She missed being able to almost touch the history she knew so well.

Due to technological advances and the green initiative at Embers College, her students didn’t
even have textbooks. Everything was digital, either downloaded via the mysterious World Wide
Web or uploaded onto their tablet PCs from a flash drive no bigger than her little finger. The
college library was small, housing only a few thousand books and reference material that had
not yet made it to the digital age. Before leaving for this vacation she had shipped the last case
of books to a small college in Nigeria that had asked for books to help their students learn
English.

The receding tide tugged at her legs and she looked to her left, then her right, down the
shoreline. Two kids laughed as they chased a third, who darted in front of her, forcing her to
step back to avoid getting run over. “Sorry, lady,” came a high voice from one of the kids as he
raced to catch up with his friends. Smiling at the joy of youth, she turned to her left and started
down the beach.

She wandered in and out of the tide, the water soaking her shorts then barely covering her toes

as if teasing her to jump in and splash around like a kid again. Because she grew up only an
hour from San Diego, Elizabeth had been to the beach as a child more times than she could
remember. Her father was the produce manager in a grocery store, her mother a stay-at-home
mom tending to the needs of Elizabeth’s two siblings and making magical meals from the
various leftovers her father brought home from work every day. Money was tight in the Collins
house, so practically every weekend they packed the picnic basket, piled into the station
wagon, and headed to Mission Bay, where her brother and sister swam and surfed all day. She
preferred to bury her nose in a good book.

She didn’t particularly care for the water. Actually she didn’t like the seaweed brushing against
her calves and wrapping around her legs. When she was five, her brother played a cruel trick
on her, convincing her that what she felt on her legs was a school of piranhas attacking her.
She rarely went into the water again until she was much older. She wasn’t squeamish or
frightened anymore, but the feel of seaweed brushing her legs still gave her the creeps. This
beach was free of it, though, and she continued walking.

As she passed resort after resort, the tension in her body drained away. “How can you not
relax in such a beautiful place,” she said out loud, no one within a hundred yards.

She was surprised when she glanced at her watch to see that more than an hour had passed.
Even though it was barely after five, her stomach told her it was definitely past dinnertime.
Fighting the urge to keep walking as far as she could around this beautiful island, she turned
around and headed back toward her hotel.

A man wearing a scrap of brightly colored material that barely covered his crotch lay prone on
a lounge chair to her right. He was far too overweight and hairy for any woman, even a straight
one, to consider him the slightest bit attractive. But obviously no one had ever told him, judging
by the way he proudly displayed his manliness. He was wearing mirrored sunglasses and she
felt his eyes rake over her. She was wearing sunglasses too, albeit much more fashionable,
and as much as she tried not to look at him too closely, it was like passing a train wreck. Her
eyes kept darting over at him. She quickened her pace and chose instead to look at the
adjacent islands off in the distance.

Chapter Two

Grabbing her keys and water bottle, Colby Taylor hurried across the small room and out the
front door, closing and locking it behind her. She jogged to the narrow driveway, in a hurry to
reach the beach before the setting sun began to dip below the horizon. Her surfboard was
already secured on the custom-made rack on the back of her Toyota pickup. She had other
cars she hadn’t touched in longer than she could remember, but she chose to drive this vehicle
every day.

Colby slowly backed out of the long circular drive. When traffic cleared she crossed the road
and headed east toward her favorite surfing spot. Her mind was a jumble, as it typically was at
the end of the day. She thought about her classes, how she had managed to convey to her
students the sometimes-difficult concept of how to stay upright on a highly waxed, eighteen-inch
board rocking up and down in three-foot waves. She tried to spend more time with the students
who were unable to stand on the board at all. These were the ones she always recalled. She

analyzed everything, especially her failures. Her mind started to drift to a previous life, and
before she went too far on that downhill spiral she focused on the conversation between two
radio talk-show hosts.

Startled, she looked around and found she was in the parking lot at the beach. All too often she
found herself driving on autopilot from point A to point B, which was a good way to die. She
didn’t have a death wish. Even after everything that had happened, she wanted to live every
day, though lately she’d begun to slip back and remember her old life more often than not. She
never wanted to go down that backward path again. During the day she stayed busy, focusing
on the task at hand. She could concentrate so fully she wouldn’t be aware of a riot around her.
That single-mindedness had made her successful in her other life, but she was afraid of it if she
ever returned.

Colby hurried out of her truck, unstrapped her board from its protective case, and within
minutes was paddling into the deep blue water.

“Hey, Breaker, what’s up?” one of the guys on a bright green board asked.

Every surfer had a nickname. The guys on the water with her now were Striker, Paddle Boy,
and Pencil. Every nickname came with a story. She had hers within months of returning to Maui.
“Breaker” symbolized the way she attacked and conquered the waves of the Pacific Ocean.
That and the trail of broken hearts she had left in her wake her first year back on the island. At
least that’s what everybody thought, and she didn’t have the energy or interest to correct them.

“Nothing much.” The greetings continued as she paddled farther away from shore. Seeking
solace, she maintained enough distance from the others so conversation was impossible but
not far enough to be considered unsociable. She wasn’t having a good day. At least not a good
afternoon. Before driving to the beach she had finished her monthly call to her mother. It had
begun and ended just like all the others—difficult and repetitive.

“Hi, Mom, it’s me.”

“Colby Morgan Taylor. Where are you?”

No matter how many times she told her mother, she continued to ask the same question.

“Mom, I told you I’m fine and I’m safe.” She steeled herself for what was to come.

“Colby, how can you continue to do this to me and your sisters?” Her mother sounded better
than last month. Then she’d been suffering from a bad case of laryngitis and Colby could barely
hear what she was saying. Unfortunately this conversation was crystal clear.

“Mom, please, we’ve had this discussion. A dozen times, in fact. I know you love me and I love
all of you, but you and my sisters would be here in twenty-four hours if you knew where I was.
I’m perfectly fine and healthy, and I’m sorry, I do love you. I love everyone. I just don’t want you
here.” Colby repeated that same statement to her mother every time she called, which was
always on the first day of the month.

She had nothing against her family. She loved them, but she refused to return to a cheerful
existence as if nothing had happened. They would try to engage her in life again, encourage her
to return to work. She was just not interested. She didn’t have the energy to subject herself to
the barrage of questions that her mother and five very nosy siblings would ask.

Her mother and her sisters couldn’t believe she would simply throw her career away. But Colby
didn’t care what they thought. It was her face she needed to look at in the mirror every
morning. She was culpable in a very ugly part of her life and had no desire to return.

“Colby, please, you’re my daughter,” Jeanette said in a quiet tone, as if that was the perfect
reason Colby should dredge all the ugliness of her character to the surface.

Since the death of her father when she was twenty-two, she had maintained a very close
relationship with her mother. She missed her. She missed her more than anything. On more
than one occasion she had almost called her mother and told her everything about what
happened that fateful night. What happened to that child. What happened to Gretchen.

But every time she picked up the phone and started to dial, Colby realized this was her cross to
bear, no one else’s. Her mother would feel her pain, her agony, and she would hurt for her
daughter. Colby didn’t want anyone else to experience the slightest pain over that night. It was
difficult for her mother not to know where she was or what she was doing. Before she left,
Colby had given her best friend and her attorney her cell-phone number. She swore them both
to secrecy, to not give the information to anyone unless in an extreme emergency. Both had
understood what that meant and so far, after three years, had kept their promise.

“It’s just that I worry about you, Colby, you’re my daughter,” Jeanette repeated.

“Mom, please, I’m not having this conversation with you. Now, how is everybody?” She took
this approach call after call, month after month. Her mother knew she could be very
hardheaded once she set her mind to something and had learned not to push.

“Cindy is about to be a partner, Teresa has more clients than she has room for, and Samantha
just hit the million-dollars-in-sales club. Christine still has that same old job at Wal-Mart, and
Lindsay is enjoying her summer vacation.”

As her mother spoke, the faces of her five sisters flashed across her closed eyes. The lawyer,
the stockbroker, the real-estate agent, the store manager, and the teacher. All six of the Taylor
women were successful, accomplished, professional women. Four of them were married to
their original husbands, and her baby sister Teresa had not yet found Mr. Right. Colby, well,
she was where she was.

The conversation with her mother lasted another ten or fifteen minutes. Her mother did most of
the talking, and more often lately it sparked a wave of loneliness, even after three years. Colby
was still angry at herself that her thoughtless words and actions had put her here. Her absence
was hurting the ones she loved, but she deserved this punishment.

Colby lost track of time like she always did when she was riding the waves. The angle of the
sun told her that she had no more than fifteen minutes left before it was too dark to surf safely.
Many nights she stayed long into the darkness, hour after hour, until exhaustion finally forced
her ashore, where she staggered home and collapsed in bed.

But something was different about this evening. A prickle on the back of her neck told her
someone was watching her. That wasn’t unusual. The ratio of male to female surfers was very
one-sided, and, all edge aside, none of the guys were as good as she was. Often people
stared and pointed. She didn’t like the attention and didn’t know if she should feel uncomfortable
or flattered. While she waited for the next wave she scanned the shoreline. It was too dark to

see clearly, but someone appeared to be sitting in one of the lounge chairs not far from the
entrance to the resort pool area. She had a strange feeling this person had been watching her
for quite some time.

Elizabeth looked out at the horizon and accepted a glass of wine from the waiter. The maitre d’
must have guessed she preferred patio seating to the boisterous noise inside the restaurant.
He had led her to this table at the far end closest to the railing that separated her from the
beach retreat below. She glanced at the menu, but was more interested in her surroundings.
The large patio still had an intimate feel. The small tables and chairs were arranged to provide
maximum privacy. She imagined lovers, newlyweds, or people celebrating monumental
anniversaries sitting at these tables and watching the sunset.

Sipping her wine, she observed the die-hard beachgoers. The other tourists had most likely
retreated to their rooms to shower or get ready for dinner. By the looks of some she saw
earlier, more than a few were probably applying sunburn relief.

She also noticed the surfers in the water and stopped counting at fourteen, deciding she wasn’t
here to analyze how many were surfing or what they were doing, but to just enjoy the scenery.
Finishing her first drink, she watched the surfers alternately ride the waves or fall off their
boards almost as quick as they got up. They all looked about the same in their board shorts
that hung down to their knees, their tank tops, and an occasional wet suit. They were various
shapes, sizes, and heights, and had very different skill levels.

Her dinner arrived and she ate leisurely, with no pressure from her waiter, which she
appreciated. Far too often as a lone diner she felt hurried, the wait staff eager to dispose of
her and her small tip in favor of a larger table and a corresponding larger one. Her waiter was
cordial, polite, and attentive yet wasn’t a pest.

She ate her fresh tuna fillet, glancing often at the surfers, especially one. The more she
watched, the more she sensed something different about this individual other than the bright
yellow shorts. This one was better than the three or four remaining surfers. Much better, with a
skill obviously practiced over and over. Even from this distance she could sense the surfer’s
confidence and mastery of the waves, as if anticipating what the wave would do. No matter
how much practice or how many lessons she had, she would never be as good as the one in
the yellow shorts.

Transferring her third glass of wine to a plastic cup, she paid her bill and again headed toward
the water. No glass was allowed on the beach, and she didn’t mind drinking out of plastic. She
was here for the weather and relaxation, and to work, so the ambience was secondary.

Settling into one of the many now-vacant beach chairs, she was intent on enjoying her drink and
the sand between her toes. In the time it took to finish her dinner, all but one of the surfers had
come ashore. The one remaining was the one who had caught her eye earlier. She couldn’t
quite place what was different about this surfer as she watched the form ride the board into
shore.

Colby emerged from the water and shook her head several times, flinging salt water from her

hair. After she tucked her board under her right arm she headed toward the parking lot. She
scanned the few remaining faces of those hardy enough to stay on the beach after the sun
went down, and her sixth sense told her that it was the woman in the khaki shorts and navy
polo shirt who had been watching her.

Something about the woman drew Colby to her. Maybe it was the way she was lying relaxed,
legs stretched out in front of her, the recliner tilted back just a bit. Perhaps it was the casual
way she held the rim of the plastic cup in her hand, her wrist dangling over the arm of the chair.
Or maybe the long blond hair piled on top of her head in a haphazard way that said it was more
for comfort than style. Colby couldn’t put her finger on the reason, but as she headed in her
direction she didn’t question it. The woman was still watching her, and for the first time in a long
time it made her feel good.

Her body had changed since her return to the island. In her previous life she carried an extra
fifteen pounds—not overweight by anyone’s standards. Long hours and strenuous working
conditions were more conducive to resorting to fast food than eating three healthy meals a day.
However, since abandoning that life and spending almost more time in the water than out, she
had dropped close to thirty pounds, and what weight did remain was solid muscle. She wasn’t
naive enough to think that people didn’t look at her because of her body, but she simply didn’t
care.

She was about ten yards away when the woman looked up and their eyes locked. A tingle
Colby hadn’t recognized in years started in the pit of her stomach as the woman held her gaze
confidently. Colby quickly assumed that the woman was self-assured and didn’t shy away from
a challenge. She also knew immediately she was a lesbian.

One night after far too many drinks Colby had sat in her apartment alone and contemplated
how lesbians reacted to each other. She had noticed it often in her previous life as she walked
down the street, at the shopping center, or any other place, for that matter. When lesbians
approached each other, they acknowledged each other in a more subtle way than straight
women did. Never overly demonstrative, they merely nodded, with a certain straightforward
look in the eye when they said hello that signaled who and what they were. The woman in front
of her was speaking loud and clear.

“Have a good evening,” Colby said as she walked by. She didn’t stop, slow down, or break
stride. After several paces she felt the woman’s eyes on her back and gave in to the unfamiliar
desire to turn around and look. She grinned at woman’s expression of complete surprise.

Elizabeth’s heart jumped when she realized the good-looking surfer was a woman and was
walking directly toward her. What the fuck? Suddenly she became more nervous than she ever
remembered. Her hands were sweaty, and it wasn’t due to the humidity. Her throat was dry,
which made absolutely no sense considering the amount of alcohol she’d consumed that
evening. Rarely, if ever, had she felt like this by simply seeing another woman. This was more
than normal attraction, or at least any attraction she’d ever experienced. She was definitely out
of sorts and it had happened instantly.

The woman moved smoothly through the sand as if she were strolling in the park. Earlier that
afternoon when Elizabeth was on the beach, even walking in the hard-packed sand was

awkward, making her stumble more than once. But this woman came toward her like she was
walking on air. She was much taller than average; however, from her viewpoint on the lounge
chair, it was difficult to see exactly how tall. As she grew closer Elizabeth fixated on her face.
The woman looked Hawaiian, with skin the right color, her hair jet black and spiky from the
water flying in all directions.

The woman finally looked up as she stepped closer, and the brilliance of her eyes made
Elizabeth’s stomach drop. She held her gaze and Elizabeth couldn’t drag herself away from the
blistering black eyes looking back at her. A fine thread seemed to connect her with this
stranger.

When the woman spoke, her voice was as soft and smooth as she looked. A twinkle in her eye
told Elizabeth she knew she had been watching her. Instead of feeling embarrassed at being
busted over her voyeurism, she felt more like, “Yes, I was looking at you too and I like what I
see.” All that and much more was conveyed in that moment before the woman passed.
Knowing that she probably would be caught, Elizabeth turned around and watched the woman
walk away. She had the same easy strides, the same languid movement as she rounded the
corner and disappeared.

Elizabeth forgot about her drink, picked up her flip-flops, and stood. Walking in the direction the
woman had, Elizabeth followed her until she reached the same corner. It was dark, and
Elizabeth could see nothing more than an empty parking lot.

“Get a grip,” she said into the darkness, shaking her head. What the hell would she have done
if the woman had been waiting for her? Uncharacteristically she was attracted to her, but what
did she intend to do, have stranger vacation sex? Or would she simply be humiliated at being
caught? Both those scenarios made her shudder, and she spun around and headed to her villa.

She slid her card key into the lock for villa 1104. The red light turned green, the latch clicked,
and she entered the foyer of her home for the summer. A colleague at another college had
offered her the place for an unreasonably low price and she jumped at it. She hadn’t wanted to
stay in a hotel but didn’t want to spend a fortune for a private residence. Her colleague assured
her their villa would have been vacant the entire summer if she hadn’t agreed to rent it.

Kicking her shoes off, she set the keys to her rental car and the card key for the door on a
narrow table and walked into the living room. It had to be at least forty feet square, with a large
plush sofa to her left. Her reflection shot back at her in the gleaming black screen of what had
to be at least a sixty-inch flat-screen TV.

She wasn’t much of a TV watcher except for anything on the Learning Channel, Discovery, or
any cooking show. Since she wasn’t a fan of evening sitcoms she had nothing to contribute to
the plot lines her students and fellow teachers talked about every day. She couldn’t tell you if
Friends had gone into syndication or who the next American Idol would be, let alone who the
last one was. She passed a bentwood rocker and made her way toward the large glass doors
that led outside.

The entire wall of the unit was glass, the doors opening onto a patio. A sturdy click of the lock
on the doors was the only sound as they slid effortlessly along the track. The hum of the ocean
and the crashing waves immediately flooded the room. The unit was on the ground floor, the
ocean no farther than twenty yards away, with a wide patio surrounded by waist-high hibiscus.

A small opening tucked away in one corner provided access to the beach. Past the patio was
nothing but sand and surf. She chuckled. More than likely she had passed her own villa when
she was walking down the beach earlier that afternoon.

The ocean breeze blew the wayward strands that had fallen out of the clip in her hair. She had
taken extra care to secure it when she put the top down on the car, but between the convertible
and her stroll along the beach, more than a little had escaped. She opened the clasp and set
her hair free to fall across her shoulders.

She stepped onto the patio and stopped just short of the decorative fence. A few people were
on the beach in front of her room, but her patio was at a slightly higher elevation than the beach
itself. This assured her that sunbathers wouldn’t be on her patio or, worse yet, peeking into her
villa.

Taking another deep breath of fresh air, she closed her eyes and an odd sensation pulsed in
her. She seemed to be humming with a combination of peace, excitement, and something she
couldn’t put her finger on.

Returning inside, she retraced her steps through the living room toward the kitchen. She was
more than an average cook and had outfitted her kitchen back in New Hampshire with better-
than-average appliances and cookware, all of which she used as often as possible.
Unfortunately, her ancillary duties as president of a private college took up most of her free
time, so she hadn’t had anyone over for dinner in months.

The stainless-steel appliances and spacious marble countertops here drew Elizabeth farther
into the brightly lit work space. She opened drawers and cabinets, deciding what she needed to
buy at the grocery store tomorrow and all the possible meals she could create for herself these
next weeks. She didn’t especially want to dine on her creative concoctions alone, but at this
point she didn’t have many options.

Several of her friends had joked about coming along, either to carry her bags or simply keep
her company. A college professor that she had dated three or four times had joked that all
work and no play in paradise would make her a very dull girl. More than once she had
mentioned that she wasn’t working all summer and made several not-so-subtle offers to rub
sunscreen on Elizabeth’s back. She would rather rub certain other parts of her body, and
Elizabeth just wasn’t interested. At least not in her.

Going back to where she first entered the villa, she approached the bedroom. A king-size bed
sat on a pedestal on the far wall, and she had a quick image of running across the room and
leaping onto the bed. Covered in a dark plum-colored bedspread with six pillows in accenting
colors, it dominated the room. An overstuffed chair, ottoman, and side table filled the sitting
area in front of a bay window to her right. The bellman had placed her suitcases on top of the
padded cedar chest nestled at the foot of the bed. The matching mirror and chest of drawers
were on her left, a large bouquet of orchids sitting prominently on top of a large dresser.
Nightstands flanked the big bed with a tasteful lamp centered on each. Covering the smoky
gray walls were several paintings of the ocean in a style similar to the one in the living room.
The only word to describe the room was sensuous.

Wanting to get settled, she quickly unzipped her two suitcases and unpacked. Then she
grabbed her toiletries and went to take a quick shower before she turned in. She stopped as

she stepped inside the bathroom. “Holy crap.” Her voice echoed. It was bigger than the guest
room in her home. Farther in was a whirlpool tub under another large bay window. The drapes
were open and she was sure she’d have another stunning view of the ocean in the morning.

The variegated blue tile of the shower set off the chrome fixtures and clear glass door. Dual
shower heads were mounted high on opposite walls, with a large seat on one end. Too bad,
she mused. A shower built for two would be wasted on only one this trip.

As she washed off the fine film of salt that had accumulated on her skin and got ready for bed,
her thoughts kept drifting to the surfer. Not long after her head touched the pillow a woman who
was gliding along, floating in the clouds and standing on the shimmering water, filled her
dreams.

Chapter Three

Colby grabbed the shopping cart out of the neat row and headed down the produce aisle. She
hated shopping. She’d rather go to the gynecologist than the grocery store and put off both until
she had no choice. Her cupboards were bare; the refrigerator shelves contained little else than
a couple of six-packs of beer, four half-empty takeout cartons, and assorted condiments. She
didn’t cook, she made things, and there was a big difference. When other women followed a
recipe or transformed leftovers into a three-course meal, she simply boiled water and added
macaroni and spaghetti sauce from a jar. Occasionally she grilled a burger, but more often than
not she pulled a box or can off the shelf and opened it. If her microwave ever went on the fritz,
she’d probably starve.

In her previous life she never had to cook. She never had to shop, for that matter. First she
lived at her parents’ house, then went to college and ate in the cafeteria or grabbed a bite
where she could. Then came Gretchen, who shopped and cooked and did all the other
household duties, which freed Colby to concentrate on her career. When she came home,
dinner was miraculously on the table. She had no idea what it took to get it there, but she
certainly enjoyed the result.

Now, however, she had to cook, and she didn’t know if she didn’t like it because she wasn’t any
good at it or if she was no good at it because she didn’t like it. And postponing shopping until
absolutely necessary more than likely added to her dislike of the event. She had tried several
times to make a list but gave up and now simply trolled, grabbing whatever caught her eye.

She filled clear produce bags with half a dozen apples and twice as many oranges, and
grabbed a pre-wrapped carton of six tomatoes. Seeing nothing else that enticed her, she
moved to the next aisle, tossing a couple loaves of bread and a package of English muffins and
one of tortillas into her cart. At least they were whole wheat. Wanting to get out of the crowded
store, she moved at a rapid pace up and down each aisle. Chips, beer, cans of soup. God, she
ate like this in college and here she was twenty years later, eating like she was nineteen again.
She grabbed two gallons of milk, rounded the next corner, and ran right into the cart of a
shopper approaching from the opposite direction.

“Shit,” she murmured, and looked into the same eyes she had seen just twelve hours earlier.
But more important, those eyes looked back at her in recognition. Under the bright fluorescent
lights she had the chance to see the woman much more clearly than she had last night on the

beach. She was a little shorter than Colby’s five foot ten inches, her hair tied back in a ponytail
high on the top of her head. A white tank top over pale blue shorts did little to hide long, firm
legs from Colby’s appreciative eyes. When she retraced a path up the woman’s body, she was
momentarily stunned by her beauty. Her face was free of any makeup and clear green eyes
sparkled in amusement.

Should she apologize for blatantly cruising the woman in front of the peanut-butter-and-jelly
display in aisle nine? No. The woman had done the same to her last night when she walked
across the sand, and as an attractive woman she should expect it.

Elizabeth was frozen to the spot, oblivious to the other shoppers jockeying around her as the
surfer from last night slowly ran her eyes up and down her body. She flushed all over, as if the
woman was caressing her with her hands instead of those black eyes staring at her now. The
surfer should say something, apologize, or at least acknowledge that she had run into her.

In the few seconds they both stood there, Elizabeth glanced at the contents of the woman’s
cart. Everything was either frozen, prepackaged, or in a jar. Her own cart was filled with fresh
fruit, veggies, and spices—everything she needed to fix herself several meals during the next
few weeks. Not only were they a different height, build, and hair color, but chose very different
food. How could the woman have such a fabulous figure with all the carbohydrates, fats,
sugars, and sodium she had loaded in her cart?

If she asks me to dinner I’m definitely cooking or we’re going out. The thought came out of
nowhere and shook Elizabeth out of her stupor. The woman was looking at her, clearly waiting
for a reply.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said sorry. For running into you.” The voice was as smooth as Elizabeth remembered. The
woman handed her the grocery list she had dropped during the collision.

Her voice wouldn’t come. She swallowed a few times and cleared her throat and was finally
able to reply.

“It’s okay. No problem. I wasn’t watching where I was going either.” The woman didn’t say
anything more but smiled at her, maintaining eye contact even after she was almost behind her.
A warm pulse tickled down Elizabeth’s spine.

After fixing a light lunch, Elizabeth changed into her swimsuit, grabbed a towel, sunscreen, and
the latest bestseller, and headed to the beach. Other than her trip to the grocery store that
morning she had nothing exciting on her agenda today except soaking up the sun.

Settling into a lounge chair and making sure every exposed inch of flesh was covered with SPF
30, she let her mind drift back to the surfer in Safeway. Her eyes were bold, almost brazen, as
if saying, “I know you are and you know I am, so do we intend to do anything about it?”
Elizabeth had remained where she was for several more seconds before another shopper
jostled her and she moved to finish her shopping. As much as she tried, she couldn’t stop
thinking about the woman, her athletic body, and the confidence that filled the air around her.
Elizabeth was completely attracted to her. Interesting.

The sun was high in the sky and she adjusted her sunglasses. She wasn’t paying much
attention to the people around her, but a group of kids in the water with surfboards caught her
eye. They were obviously having a lesson, the instructor’s back to her. Even thirty yards away
she knew it was the same woman. The one from last night and again in the grocery store
today. It was a small island and simply coincidence that they kept running into each other. But
her skin tingled.

The woman spent an equal amount of time with each child with what appeared like words of
encouragement and instruction, as well as heaps of praise when they accomplished what they
had set out to do. The woman had more patience than she would in a similar situation, the lack
thereof typically getting her into trouble. Patience with children was definitely not one of her
strong suits.

Throughout grade school, college, graduate studies, and her PhD exams and dissertation, she
planned and accomplished each phase with complete determination. She thought out every step
of the way almost ad nauseam before she took the next one. As a result, she was a nationally
known scholar in seventeenth-century history, and she frequently received calls from other
universities inquiring about her interest in joining their academic institutions.

In the beginning she was flattered that people were seeking her out. In her typical methodical
way she outlined the pros and cons of each offer, and several times went as far as visiting the
campus and the surrounding area. Most of the times her decision to stay at Embers College
was easy, but several times the pros almost outweighed the cons. Those decisions were the
difficult ones. Her analytical brain told her one thing but her gut said something different.

She liked living in Essington, a small town in eastern New Hampshire. She loved her job, the
energy of the students almost palpable whenever she walked down the hall. She had a few
good friends and many acquaintances, and she had worked hard to build what she considered
a pleasant life.

Sometimes when she saw a couple holding hands or sharing a coffee over breakfast at the
corner cafe, she wondered if she was missing the desire gene or passion vein or whatever
drove someone to be totally infatuated with another human being. As an academic she studied
people and intellectually knew the body’s reaction and chemical reaction to someone. But she
hadn’t really experienced it. She had been attracted to someone and had acted on it often, but
she had never been totally consumed by a woman, experienced an overwhelming need to be
with her, know everything about her, breathe her air.

She had to have a much lower sex drive than her friends, at least according to the stories they
told over their Sunday brunches. She could take or leave sex. Well, she’d rather take it than
leave it, but it was normal for her to go months, if not years, between liaisons. Though it might
be a bit odd, that was just the way she was.

Every few months she would drive to South Humbolt, where she would spend the weekend with
friends, then drive back in the wee hours to be in her office by eight o’clock Monday morning.
She didn’t regret any of her decisions or how she chose to live her life. But the tingling between
her legs as she watched the surf instructor was new and uncomfortable. She needed another
drink and needed it bad.

Colby couldn’t wait for the class to be over. The woman from last night and in the grocery store
was lying half-naked on the beach in just about the same spot as she was when she first saw
her. A few quick glances throughout the afternoon told Colby what she had suspected. The
woman had been watching her again. As much as she wanted to go over and talk to her, she
had three other sessions before her day was over. After that she was invited to Amelia’s house
for dinner at five.

She ate with a friend at least once a week, not necessarily because she needed the company.
On the contrary, she enjoyed her solitude, breaking it when she needed to, not because
society’s standards wouldn’t let her be a hermit. But the six women she had somehow become
friends with didn’t let up, and after she finally gave in they rotated dinner duty. This week was
Amelia’s night. The more she thought about it, the more annoyed she became. Amelia could
talk the white off a picket fence, and Colby would have to make up some excuse to leave early.
She wanted to come back to this spot tonight and see if the beautiful woman was here again.

It was unusual to be so attuned to the stranger. Between their few words last night and not
many more than that this morning at the grocery store, she felt the familiar pull of desire. She
wasn’t looking for love or any kind of attachment. Anything more than three or four nights with a
woman was definitely on her Do Not Do list. Obviously the woman was a guest at the resort.
She had a checkout date with a life to get back to, which made her perfect. That and the fact
that what Colby had seen of her body was stunning.

She had just started the second lesson when the woman returned to her chair, a drink in each
hand. Her hopes dropped slightly. If the woman was still here when she got back, hopefully she
wouldn’t be drunk. She liked her women to be active participants in the event, not sloppy drunks
who fumbled around in the dark. Worse yet, passed out in bed.

One woman several months ago had done just that. The woman didn’t seem to have drunk too
much during dinner or the hour they spent in the hotel bar. But only ten minutes into what Colby
thought was a rather pleasant time between the sheets, the woman fell asleep. At first Colby
couldn’t believe it. It was a first for her. Her ego was a bit bruised and she didn’t try to be quiet
as she slid out of bed and looked for her clothes. But the woman was snoring so loud by the
time Colby left, nothing would have woken her.

The maitre d’ in the restaurant remembered Elizabeth from the night before and didn’t bother to
ask if she preferred a table outside. Elizabeth appreciated the hospitality and settled into one at
the opposite end of the patio. She almost didn’t notice her waiter standing beside the table
because she was looking toward the water for some sign of the surfer. The waiter had to
repeat his question before she gave him her drink order, almost on automatic pilot.

A wave of disappointment far more than she expected filled her when she saw no sign of the
woman in the crashing waves. After a few more minutes of squinting at the shoreline she turned
her attention to the menu. Forty-five minutes later, her dinner finished, she was drawn again to
the ocean. Far different from right after lunch, almost every chair was empty. She took a glass
of ice tea with her this time, and after kicking her legs up she closed her eyes and relaxed,
listening to the sound of the water.

She jerked awake, realizing she must have nodded off. Her watch assured her she had slept

only a few minutes, and without thinking she looked out at the water again. A thrill ran through
her when she recognized the lone surfer calmly walking toward the waves, then into the sea.

The woman wore the top of a bright orange wet suit, and the darkness soon swallowed her.
Elizabeth sat on the edge of the chair, bending forward and straining her eyes. She scanned
the horizon for several minutes for any sign of the woman and was about to give up when the
full moon burst from behind a cloud and illuminated the woman riding the wave into shore.

Elizabeth was fascinated as the surfer quickly turned her board a complete one hundred and
eighty degrees and dropped into a prone position. A second later she began to paddle again
into the churning waves. Instinctively, Elizabeth walked toward the surf and sat just out of reach
of the incoming tide, leaning back, her arms bracing her as she watched the woman repeat the
maneuver several more times. Her breath quickened when the surfer emerged from the water,
her lean body dripping with water. She approached with deliberate steps, peeling off her wet-
suit top as she neared.

Tonight she was wearing purple board shorts that hung low on her hips, a good three inches
below her belly button. Her matching sports bra clung to her wet body, accentuating erect
nipples underneath. Before Elizabeth had a chance to breathe, the woman stood in front of her,
her outstretched arm beckoning Elizabeth to take her hand. Without stopping to think, she did.

Chapter Four

The woman pulled Elizabeth up effortlessly and kissed her. Soft, delicate kisses at first, their
breath mingling as the smells of paradise surrounded them. The surfer stepped closer and
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around the woman’s neck, pressing against the damp flesh. Her
kisses became impatient and insistent. Elizabeth struggled to keep up with the demands of the
tongue invading her mouth and raised herself on her toes to get closer to the mouth, causing
delicious tremors through her body.

The woman pulled away and they stood together in the moonlight. Elizabeth looked up into dark
eyes that tempted her to pick up the gauntlet laid at her feet. She had no doubt she was to
decide how far this would go. She could choose to stop right now or continue what she
instinctively knew would be a mutually satisfying experience. The steamy, sensuous look in the
woman’s eyes, and what she had seen today in the sunlight, reaffirmed that sex with this
stranger would be incredible.

But this was ridiculous. She didn’t know anything about this woman. Elizabeth barely heard her
common sense over the roar of the pounding between her legs. Something about her kept
drawing Elizabeth, something different from anyone she’d ever known. They had barely spoken
to each other, but she sensed the woman probing the depths of her soul with her keen eyes.
She dropped her hands from around the stranger’s neck and, with a subtle nod, took her hand.
She didn’t know where they were going, but she knew exactly what would happen when they
got there.

The surfer retrieved her board, which she’d dropped in the sand sometime during their
embrace. Elizabeth didn’t say a word as she walked beside her, wanting to memorize every
detail of this moment. Something about this entire interlude made her realize she would
remember it forever.

She finally saw the woman was taking her to a place not far from where she’d been sitting—a
cluster of trees that had sprung up in the soft sand. The area had created a natural umbrella
from the sun earlier in the day and now served as the perfect spot for a very private
rendezvous. The ease with which the woman had seduced her gave Elizabeth the impression
that she had done this often. She was probably just another notch on this woman’s surfboard,
but at this particular moment, she didn’t care. She wanted only for the woman to kiss her again.

After only three or four steps into the stand of trees they were practically engulfed in darkness.
The woman sank her board into the sand next to a large tree and turned Elizabeth around,
pinning her back against the smooth board. She moaned when the woman’s hands started to
roam over her. When they slipped under her T-shirt and cupped her breasts, she was sure her
knees would buckle.

The woman’s actions were bold. Elizabeth practically danced when she pinched her erect
nipples. Arching into the caress, she instinctively grabbed the back of the woman’s head,
twisting her fingers in the short dark hair. The woman got the message and in an instant
Elizabeth’s T-shirt was gone and her bikini top quickly followed. In the second it took to
complete the maneuver she felt as if the loss of physical contact had lasted for days. The
stranger lowered her mouth again and Elizabeth was swept away.

It had been a long time since another woman had touched her. Longer still since she had been
taken. She allowed herself to be transported in her primal need for this complete stranger. She
needed the caress of soft, insistent hands that knew what a woman’s body needed. A warm
hand drifted down her stomach and was sneaking under the waistband of her shorts. Awash in
sensation, she let her head fall back against the hard board. Somehow the woman’s sports bra
had disappeared and Elizabeth was exploring small breasts with very tight nipples.

The image of how they must look flashed in Elizabeth’s mind. What would someone see if they
were discovered? One woman bent at the waist, feasting on the breasts of another who was
obviously only moments away from orgasm? Elizabeth was too far gone in her passion to care.
She needed to feel this woman against her. Her hot body on top of her, hard muscles trembling
beneath her fingers. Elizabeth began to sink to the sand.

Somewhere in the fog of desire she heard phrases like, “Holy shit, it’s a couple of girls” and
“Oh, yeah.” She dragged her eyes open and looked right into three pairs of eyes staring back
at her. She blinked a few times, trying to clear her head. Over her anonymous lover’s shoulder
she saw a trio of teenage boys. The woman hadn’t noticed their audience yet, and by the boys’
expressions that was perfectly fine with them. But it was not perfectly fine with Elizabeth.

Now she cursed, and the woman lifted her head, her face a mass of confusion. Seeing
Elizabeth’s expression she looked over her shoulder.

“Fuck,” the woman said, repeating the word Elizabeth had just used.

“Yeah,” one of the boys said, the growing tent in his swim trunks mirroring his words.

“Get lost,” the woman said, straightening up and effectively blocking their view of Elizabeth’s
nakedness.

She could have died from embarrassment. She couldn’t face the boys, choosing instead to bury
her face in the woman’s shoulder.

“I said get the fuck out of here,” the woman repeated, her voice stronger and more threatening
this time. Elizabeth could feel the woman’s chest as she gulped in air to control her erratic
breathing. She heard a rustle and risked a look and saw that the gawkers had indeed fled.

Suddenly she was mortified at her behavior. She didn’t know what to do first—get dressed, say
something, or simply dissolve into the sand. The woman didn’t appear to be terribly concerned
with their state of undress or being caught with her mouth on another woman’s breasts.
Elizabeth wanted to say something but had no idea what.

The woman stepped back, her eyes darting back and forth between Elizabeth’s bare breasts
as if memorizing every detail before they were taken away. Elizabeth forced herself not to
cover herself with her hands. It was a little late for that anyway. She was proud of her body.
She looked better than most other thirty-seven-year-old women, though certainly not as good
as the woman standing half naked in front of her. Elizabeth had worked hard, going to the gym
four or five times a week, and the way the woman was gazing at her now made all the sweat
and pain worthwhile. She felt more beautiful and desired than she had in a long time.

For a moment, she forgot that she was standing on the beach bare from the waist up. She was
looking at the body of the woman who had led her here. It was dark where they were, but she
was able to discern the stark suntan line of the woman’s top. Her arms and chest were well-
defined, and the muscles in her stomach looked as hard as they had felt moments earlier.

Elizabeth started to say something but stopped when the woman retrieved their clothes. Silently
handing Elizabeth her top, she took another step back and tugged her sports bra over her
head. The surfer’s hands were still shaking, and Elizabeth watched with regret as the tantalizing
breasts were quickly covered.

“I’ll walk you back,” the woman said quietly.

When she stepped toward Elizabeth, she thought she might take her in her arms again, but she
reached around her and grabbed her surfboard. Elizabeth followed the woman out of the trees
and down the shoreline to where she had been sitting as silently as they came to this place.
The woman hesitated, as if trying to decide if she should stay or go. Elizabeth watched the
questions form on her face and her make the decision. The woman stepped forward and kissed
her gently on the cheek.

“You’re very beautiful,” she whispered, and walked away.

Chapter Five

Colby had thought her prayers had been answered when she could make out the woman sitting
in the sand. But now she simply said, “Shit, shit, shit.” Steaming as her left foot hit the sidewalk,
then her right, then the left again, she practically stomped back to her truck like an angry kid
who one minute had an ice-cream cone in her hand, and the next held nothing but thin air.

Earlier, when the dark clouds had cleared, the woman had been sitting in the sand as if waiting
for her long-lost sailor to return from the sea. Colby rarely had such romantic thoughts or let
herself be swept away by emotion. She had needed this type of detachment in her previous life
and had continued it in this one, but it had deserted her tonight. Butterflies had jostled for
position in her stomach as she rode the final wave into shore. She was driven by the need to

have this woman, and her craving was worse now after the small sample beneath the
eucalyptus trees.

After slamming her truck door, she started to back out of the parking spot and noticed her
hands were shaking. She stopped and looked at them as if they were foreign objects that had
replaced her familiar ones. In her old life, they were always steady. No matter how difficult or
stressful the situation, she could always depend on them to be as still as the hot night air
surrounding her. Even in the heat of passion, she was always in control. Turning them palm up,
she remembered how heavy and soft the woman’s breasts felt. How responsive she was when
Colby caressed her, tweaked each hard, round nipple. Even in the darkness of the truck’s
interior she could detect a slight tremble as she touched each fingertip with her thumb.

“Damn it,” she shouted into the night, balling her hands into fists and hitting the steering wheel.
What had come over her? She had touched more women than she could count, some she
couldn’t even remember, and had never had this kind of reaction. And she had held the woman
for only moments. She had no doubt where the encounter would have gone if they hadn’t been
interrupted. Those boys certainly got much more than they ever expected on their summer
vacation.

Regaining control she drove home, stopping only at the KFC drive-through for an order of extra
crispy. Fifteen minutes later she was sitting on her couch with the bucket in her lap and a cold
beer within reach on the coffee table. Her television was on to the baseball game she had
TiVoed earlier in the day, baseball her only vice other than surfing.

She could recite the name, position, and stats of practically every player in the league. She had
no idea how she became fascinated with the game. Her father certainly never took her to one.
He never did anything with her other than criticize her choices in life. She didn’t have any
brothers or uncles interested in baseball, and she only played when she was able to sneak out
of the house and round up a few of the neighborhood boys. Their games lasted only a quick
three or four innings before her mother found her and dragged her home. She could hear her
mother’s voice clearly even after all these years.

“Colby Morgan Taylor. Baseball is not a game for a young woman, certainly not a daughter of
mine.”

The way her mother always said woman and daughter was so totally opposite to the gender-
bending name Jeanette Taylor, nee Morgan, had bestowed on her. She was a tomboy from the
minute she shot out of the womb on that unseasonably cold day in May thirty-eight years ago.
The more her mother tried to make her into a prissy little girl, the more Colby fought her. Even
after she had established a very successful life of her own, her mother still commented when
she showed up for dinner in trousers rather than a dress. It didn’t matter that the pants were
raw silk or that they cost more than a month’s worth of groceries for an average family of four.
And at the age of twenty-three when she announced she was a lesbian, she could have sworn
the world stopped.

Her mother was better now, but not by much. She still wanted her eldest daughter to find a
good man, marry, and pop out a few more grandchildren for her. As if the nine she already had
from her other daughters weren’t enough. She couldn’t accept the fact that Mr. Right was in
fact Ms. Right. They had long ago compromised on that subject. Jeanette never asked and

Colby rarely told.

The Detroit Tigers were handily beating her favorite team, the Seattle Mariners, when she set
the KFC bucket next to the four empty Bud Light bottles and drifted to sleep.

The dream tonight was not about death but the very essence of life. The woman’s face was not
clear but her unruly blond hair fell into Colby’s face as she hovered over her. Her body was
hard and warm on top of Colby’s, and the woman wouldn’t let her go until she had her fill.

It all started with a good-night peck on the cheek. Colby didn’t know exactly where they had
gone, but she was standing in the doorway of the woman’s house thinking the evening was over
when the woman slid her arms around her neck and kissed her. Seriously kissed her.

She instinctively gathered the woman in her arms and pulled her closer. The woman deepened
the kiss, her tongue quickly exploring the inside of Colby’s mouth. Not breaking their kiss, she
pulled Colby into the house, slammed the door shut, and pressed her against it.

The anonymous woman was not at all shy about what she wanted, and almost before Colby
knew what was happening her shirt was open and her pants were on their way to the floor. Not
being one to lag behind, she got busy.

Before long they were prone on the woman’s bed. Colby feasted on full breasts with hard
nipples. She kissed the stranger from head to toe and many times in between. She caressed
the woman with her hands and mouth inside and out, until she begged for release. She was
insatiable and took her repeatedly until she was begging for rest.

Then the roles were reversed. The unknown woman devoured her, taking her over the brink and
back more times than Colby could remember. They consumed each other until too exhausted to
do anything but collapse on the moist, tangled sheets.

Like her other dreams, when she woke she was drenched in sweat, her breathing ragged. This
time, though, her body was alive, every nerve active, her head buzzing with sensation. Her
hands were shaking and her legs weak as she staggered to the bathroom. Snapping on the
light she splashed her face with cold water. Her reflection in the mirror was one she hadn’t seen
in a long time. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes dilated, her hair disheveled. She was sexually
aroused almost to the point of pain, something she hadn’t felt in a long time. A very long time.

Chapter Six

Elizabeth woke feeling like a truck had run over her. Her head was pounding and, if she was
careful, very careful, she might not end up bent over the pristine, expensive toilet. Of course if
she hadn’t had that final cocktail last night, or even the three or four before that, she wouldn’t
feel like this.

After the woman left she was too keyed up to go to her room. She went instead to the bar by
the pool and dropped her credit card in the hand of the young bartender. Like the surfer, he
was Hawaiian, with dark skin that she suspected was as smooth as the woman’s had been.
The waitress was very attentive and, thank goodness, not Hawaiian, Elizabeth was not sure
how many more pairs of dark eyes she could handle.

Groaning, she gingerly got out of bed and, holding her temples, shuffled to the bathroom. The

sound of the shower water was like cymbals crashing, and it hurt to think what it would feel like
when it beat against her scalp. She tried to brush her teeth, but watching the back-and-forth
movement of the brush added to her nausea. Already naked, she stepped into the warm spray.

An hour later with a cup of weak coffee and a piece of dry toast staying in her stomach, she
felt almost human. Her head still throbbed and the bright midday sun hurt her eyes so much she
had to put on her sunglasses, even though she was still inside. After dozing on the couch for
another hour or so, she ventured out to the patio.

The beach was crowded, more so than yesterday. Four young kids were making a sand castle
at the water’s edge, not far from a man who was apparently watching them. Three teenage
boys were tossing a Frisbee back and forth, and Elizabeth hated to think they might be the
three who interrupted them last night.

“Last night, God. What was I thinking?” she said out loud, as if asking would give her the
answers she wasn’t able to find last night in her—how many was it—five or six mai tais? She
repeated the question, this time in her head. It hurt too much to talk.

She obviously hadn’t been thinking. If she had, she never would have kissed the surfer, let alone
practically had sex with a complete stranger on the beach. Sure, they were in a secluded place,
or at least they thought they were, but still… Talk about sand in all the wrong places. Or would
it be the right places? She shook her head at the confusion and immediately regretted the quick
movement.

She sat at the table on the patio, a half-empty bottle of water in her hand. The smell of the
hibiscus threatened to unsettle the food she’d been able to keep down, and she took a long
slow drink. It seemed to settle the rolling in her stomach and she repeated the action just to be
sure. It was after noon, which was about the time she ventured out to the beach yesterday.
And saw the woman.

At least she could have learned her name last night. She hated thinking of her as the surfer or
the woman or, worse yet, the stranger. Her name was probably something exotic, befitting her
heritage. Why was she giving surfing lessons and not running some huge conglomerate, curing
cancer, or adorning the cover of some fashion magazine? She had an aura of success,
confidence, and something else Elizabeth couldn’t put her finger on, and her intuition was rarely
wrong. Maybe she was running away from something—a bad breakup or a gambling debt.
Maybe she… Elizabeth saw the woman again. She was walking this way carrying her
surfboard. The board that had been against her back while the woman was pressed against
her front.

Good God, it was happening again. Her throat was dry, her head dizzy, and the throbbing in
her veins settled in her groin. Who was this woman and why was she so affected by her?
Elizabeth’s eyes never left the figure as she neared. Today she had on dark green shorts and a
bikini top that clearly displayed the perfectly round breasts Elizabeth held in her hands the night
before.

The woman hadn’t seen her yet and, with no idea why, Elizabeth slid down in her chair. She
heard voices.

“Hey, Breaker, wanna head out?”

“Not right now, Stingray. I’m looking for somebody.” It was that same voice. Her clitoris started
to throb.

“You lose a student or something?” The other person laughed.

“No, nothing like that. Just looking for somebody I met the other day.”

The person laughed again. “Jesus, Breaker, you get more girls in a month than I get in six.
What is with that? Do all the lesbians in the world know about your talents between the
sheets?”

This time the woman laughed and Elizabeth almost dropped her water. It sounded like they
were directly in front of her.

“Come on, Stingray, I should be so lucky. Don’t you know by now not to believe everything you
hear, especially if it’s coming from Dink and Sandshark? They’re so full of shit. What they don’t
know they make up, and you fall for it every time.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’ve seen you in action, Breaker, and you didn’t get that name by settling
down with just one. Or two or three, for that matter.” Another laugh.

The voices drifted away and Elizabeth cautiously eased back to a sitting position. The woman
from last night was walking away from her, her strong muscles glinting in the sunlight. The man
she was talking to was already halfway to the water’s edge.

“Breaker.” She tried out the unusual name and suspected it was a nickname of sorts, like the
people she referred to. Her brain flashed to the old beach movies she used to watch as a kid
growing up in San Diego.

And what had the guy said? She didn’t get the name Breaker by settling down with one or two?
Did that mean what she thought it did? That the woman had left a trail of broken hearts up and
down the beach? Elizabeth remembered her fleeting thought the night before that the woman
was far too practiced in seduction. But right after that Elizabeth didn’t care and wanted nothing
more than to be her next conquest. “Jesus, I’ve got to get out more,” she said to the retreating
figure.

Funny. She didn’t feel cheap or used, as she probably should have. Then again, she’d gone
willingly into the trees. There was no seduction about it. She wanted the woman. Correction,
she wanted Breaker, and she would have had her if not for their nosey audience. What did that
make her? She was willing to have sex with a woman she had said less than ten words to. She
was a highly respected university president and was acting like one of her students.

“Get a grip, Collins.” She stood and watched the woman walk farther down the beach.

Colby was more than frustrated. The dream last night had left her turned on and on edge. She
hadn’t had a wet dream in years, and the fact that she had one was disturbing enough. She had
not really desired another woman since Gretchen died. That part of her was understandably
dormant, and Colby didn’t intend to bring it out of hibernation. She had sex, but her body’s
reaction to the woman was telling her something different.

She had spent practically every free minute this afternoon uncharacteristically looking for the

woman from last night. Caught in flagrante once before, she had simply shooed off the voyeurs
and finished what she had started. Why hadn’t she done the same with this one? She was
certainly willing. In fact, she was giving just as much as she was taking.

After what seemed like forever, the last class of the day was over. Hurriedly, she gathered the
boards and tucked them in the shed to the left of the lifeguard shack. She would come back
later and load them into her truck for proper storage at her shop. She didn’t know the person
manning the lifeguard tower but, other than a polite wave, didn’t pay much attention to who was
ten feet above her. She was more interested in who she might find at the pool or farther down
the beach.

Strolling more casually than she felt, she passed through the pool area, glancing left and right
for any sign of the familiar figure. By the time she reached the bar she had caught the eye of
several women, none of whom she paid much attention to. She ordered a bottle of water.

“You’re pretty good out there,” someone said over her right shoulder. She swung around
prepared to deflect the come-on but instead found herself looking into the deep green eyes of
the woman in her arms last night.

“Thank you,” she replied instinctively. She fell back on politeness, uncharacteristically tongue-
tied. She wanted to ask if the woman wanted a drink but cringed inside. The question sounded
like a total line.

“How long have you been surfing?”

The woman’s voice was warm with a touch of amusement, an errant strand of hair whipping
across her tanned cheeks.

“Practically my entire life,” she replied. She couldn’t help but ask if the woman wanted a refill of
the drink in her right hand. When she declined she asked, “Would you like to sit down?”

“I suppose we should talk,” the woman replied, and started walking toward an unoccupied
cabana. Colby followed her closely, taking a long look at her backside. The woman didn’t say
anything else until they were both settled on the thick-padded lounge chairs.

“I must say you kiss as well as you surf.”

Colby choked on her water, then sat up and coughed a few times, taking deep gulps of air.

“I’m sorry, did I surprise you?”

Shocked was a more appropriate word. When she was finally able to speak she said,
“Honestly, yes. It was the last thing I expected to hear. I didn’t think you’d even speak to me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She looked at her as if their experience on the beach was the most natural
thing in the world.

Colby sipped her drink before she answered. She needed a minute to think of an appropriate
reply. Finally, she said, “Too embarrassed by what happened?”

“Making out with a complete stranger or getting caught?” The twinkle in the woman’s eye was
a challenge.

“I was referring to my hand down your pants, but your two would work just as well. Take your

pick.” Colby liked her spunk and unabashed banter.

“Well,” the woman said, finishing her drink. “I have to admit I usually know the woman’s name
before I let her hand into my pants. Same with kissing. I enjoyed both but was grateful for the
interruption.”

Holy shit. This woman was like nobody she’d been with since returning to the island. She was
direct, honest, and unafraid to say what was on her mind. A familiar tingle began in her groin.
This woman would surely say exactly what she wanted in bed too.

“I’ll return the compliment and, in the interest of full disclosure, I guess it was better for those
boys to stumble on us when they did than ten minutes later.” Colby was regaining her
equilibrium.

“Really?”

“Really. They would have seen more than even I care to show.” She never took her eyes off
the woman.

“Are you shy?”

The woman scanned her chest, down her legs and back up again.

“Not in the slightest. But there is a big difference between a bare breast and someone’s face
buried between somebody else’s legs.” If this woman could be this bold, she would too. She
was even more surprised when the woman removed her water from her hand and took a
swallow.

“And is that the position you think we would have been in?” She licked a drop off her top lip.

The air between them sizzled and Colby’s precarious equilibrium shook. “That’s where I was
headed.” She returned the look with one of her own that said, “And you wouldn’t have stopped
me.”

Minutes ticked by and her world subtly shifted. Colby wanted to wrap her fingers in this
woman’s blond hair and use it to pull her mouth to hers, to lick her teeth, which were as white
as a Florida beach. She was instantly aroused at the memory of how she had responded in her
arms, how she tasted, how she arched into her touch. She wanted her again, this time more
than their fevered groping of the night before. Much more. Finally, she held out her hand. “Colby
Taylor, surf instructor.”

The woman looked at it, her eyes going dark. “Elizabeth Collins, vacationer.” They shook
hands.

Elizabeth didn’t say what she did for a living, instead stating her current situation. She could be
anything. She had a confidence and sophistication that would easily make her comfortable in a
boardroom. Colby’s curiosity was piqued but she didn’t push it. It didn’t really matter what she
did for a living. She was here and Colby wanted to know for how long.

“Are you a guest at the Carlyle?” She caught the eye of the waitress who had been hovering
nearby and indicated two more drinks.

“Yes.”

“How long are you staying on my beautiful island?”

“Your island?” she asked, looking toward the crashing waves.

Colby chuckled. “Well, it’s not really my island.” She liked Elizabeth’s sense of humor.

“Did you just lie to me, Colby Taylor, surf instructor?” Elizabeth asked with fake outrage.

“Not at all. I was born not far from here. I tend to be a bit territorial about my homeland.” It
was true. She did think of Maui as her island. It was where she grew up, learned how to swim,
rode her first wave, and kissed her first girl. Now, twenty years later, it was where she came to
find peace.

Elizabeth saw the way the waitress looked at Colby, then her, when she returned with their
drinks. She was familiar with that look, which said she wanted more of what she’d already had
and Elizabeth was in her way. She had noticed that expression on the faces of several women
on the beach and around the resort when Colby was near. And why not? With her trim body,
tight muscles, and confident swagger she was more than attractive and certainly could have
any woman in the place. And she probably had. What in the hell was she thinking last night?

Elizabeth shook her head. She wasn’t thinking. And she was headed down that same one-way
road right now. Before she got into any more trouble, she stood.

“I have to go,” she said quickly. By Colby’s surprised expression she either hadn’t expected it
or wasn’t accustomed to being shut down.

“But we’ve just met. Can I interest you in dinner?” Colby rose.

“Yes, you can,” she wanted to say. In fact, she was interested in much more than dinner but
instead replied, “Thanks, but I have plans.” She stepped away for some breathing room.
“Thank you for the drink. It was a pleasure meeting you, Colby Taylor.” Before she could
change her mind, she walked away.

“What the hell?” Stunned, Colby watched Elizabeth practically glide down the sidewalk toward
the resort lobby. All the signs had been pointing to a continuation of where they left off last
night. So why was she sitting here alone? One minute Elizabeth was comfortably flirting with
her, the next she had doused the obvious flame burning between them. Colby shook her head.
The waitress returned but this time stopped closer than she had when Elizabeth was with her.
Even in her confused state she couldn’t miss her intent.

“Hey, Colby,” the waitress said after Elizabeth was out of earshot. “Wanna get together later?
I’m off at eight.”

The waitress was looking at her with absolutely no shyness. Colby had gone out with her a few
times. Actually, stayed in with her, and she didn’t expect anything other than a mutually good
time. She had given Colby exactly what she needed at the time with no strings, unless you
counted the braided rope they used the last time they were together. But when she looked at
the waitress this time it was different. The familiar tingle of physical need she had followed
directly into the woman’s bed had vanished. No stir of arousal, no tingle of anticipation, and
definitely no throb between her legs. At least not for her.

“Sorry. Maybe some other time.” They most likely wouldn’t hook up again. She was tempted to
follow Elizabeth but instead took her remaining drink and returned to the beach.

The angle of the sun was all she needed to know it was close to six o’clock. She rarely looked
at her Ironman watch and never did when she was on her board. She should be hungry, having
skipped lunch trying to find Elizabeth in the throngs of resort guests and sunbathers. And what
was up with that? Colby never went looking for a woman, especially one she didn’t know. She
couldn’t remember the last time she needed to do anything other than say yes to get a woman
in bed, or naked in the sand.

Maybe that’s what surprised her about Elizabeth. She was obviously interested last night,
hadn’t hesitated when Colby took her hand and led her into the trees. And the way Elizabeth
pulled her mouth tighter against her breast didn’t signal a woman who needed any persuasion.
She had no fucking clue what had changed during their fifteen minutes together this afternoon.
Even less of a clue why she cared.

Elizabeth could see Colby from where she stood on her patio. She didn’t remember getting
back to her room, her head full of their conversation and images of Colby lying stretched out on
the chaise. Her legs shook as she watched the majestic figure standing so tall in the setting
sun, as if she were surveying her kingdom, all that was hers.

She’d said this was her island, and even without the clarification Elizabeth knew it to be true.
She saw it in the way she rode the waves, the way she taught kids to surf, the way she moved
so effortlessly in the sand. She’d watched Colby so much in these first few days she felt like
she knew her. Maybe that was why she had flirted with her so shamelessly. Had let her take
her in her arms without a single word between them.

God, what had gotten into her? Her eyes were still on the unmoving figure in the chair by the
pool, her hands burning as she remembered how strong the muscles in Colby’s back were, how
soft her skin was under her fingertips. And, God, how she tasted. A combination of salt, sweat,
and passion that was almost her undoing. Who was she kidding, it was her undoing, and if they
hadn’t been interrupted there would have been a lot more undoing before it was over.

Colby’s voice echoed in her ears. “That’s where I was headed.” When Colby had blatantly
implied that her head would be between her legs, Elizabeth wanted to drag her inside and
make her prove it. She didn’t doubt Colby would be very good. But as much as she wanted to
find out just how good, her common sense had returned from wherever it had flown off to.

She wasn’t like this. Not at all. Elizabeth Collins was a well-respected, relatively conservative
academic with her libido completely under control. Her sexual appetite never got her in trouble.
Hell, it never even got her a warning, let alone a speeding ticket. But something about Colby
made her ignore everything she ever knew about herself. Maybe it was her surroundings, being
in a place where nobody knew her and would never see her again. Maybe it was the sound of
the water, like a demanding caress. Maybe she was just horny. Whatever, she was acting so
out of character she hardly recognized herself.

Look at her now. Standing in the shadows staring at a woman she knew nothing about except
her name and her need to find out if the skin on her legs was as smooth as it looked. Would the
muscles in her stomach quiver when she touched them? Would her mouth drive her even crazier
than it did when they kissed? And her hands. Her flesh was still on fire where Colby had

touched her.

She continued to watch as Colby turned and seemed to look directly at her. She couldn’t be
seen from here, but her head still buzzed and her pulse ran faster. Colby seemed to stare for
several more moments before she turned away and walked down the beach. Elizabeth
suddenly felt cool, as if Colby’s body heat had been stripped away from her.

She didn’t know what to do about this intense craving. She was here to work and relax, and
only for a couple of months at that. Would she have a summer fling, then return to her routine
as if nothing happened? A summer with Colby would not be nearly enough. She wanted her, no
doubt about it, but having her was not an option. Now if she could only convince her body. “It’s
going to be a long, hot summer,” Elizabeth murmured as she returned inside.

Chapter Seven

Colby had hardly slept. The nightmare was back, but this time Elizabeth’s face had replaced the
one that had haunted her dreams for three years. Wide-awake, she glanced at the clock. Four
thirty. In an hour it would be light and another day would begin. She tossed back the sheets,
damp from her tortured dreams. She might as well get up. She couldn’t possibly go back to
sleep and didn’t even want to try. The dream usually came just before dawn. Exactly like the
reality of what had happened.

At one time she had almost killed herself from lack of sleep. When the nightmares began, she
hadn’t slept more than an hour or two at a time. She set her alarm to prevent herself from
falling into a deep sleep, which is when the dreams appeared. One night on the way home she
drove off the road. Luckily, she skidded into a ditch instead of a redwood.

Time heals all wounds, and in her case that was mostly true. The nightmares no longer
occurred nightly, only when she was stressed or the calendar reminded her what day it was.
She was finally beginning to feel human again.

After she put the coffee on, she showered and was dressed in a few minutes in what little she
wore every day. In her previous life she could wake from a deep sleep, shower, and be out the
door in ten minutes, sometimes less. Since then, she had tried to consciously take more time
and enjoy the warm water cascading over her, the luxurious scented soap, but it was hard to
change habits that years of necessity had imposed.

Her hands were still shaking when she poured her first cup of coffee. It always took a while for
her nerves to settle; however, this morning her hands shook more noticeably than usual after
the nightmare. She had made the mistake of glancing at the calendar as she entered the
kitchen and noticed the date. June 5. Three years, three months, and twelve days ago her
selfishness had changed her life. One thousand, one hundred seventy-six days since that awful
night when her lover jumped off the I-90 bridge right before her eyes.

No one knew the complete story except the Seattle police. She had explained everything, every
moment in the days and weeks leading up to that night in excruciating detail until they were
satisfied that she was not to blame. If it were only that simple.

Too jittery to sit in her kitchen, she went downstairs to her store. When she returned to the
island she had bought it from an old man for much less than it was worth now and rebuilt both

the shop and her life. It was her refuge.

The Top Side Surf Shop did a brisk business, and she employed several other locals to staff
and manage it. She preferred to be in the water rather than behind the counter. Only Simi, the
manager, knew she was the boss. Everyone else thought she was simply another hired hand.
She signed the checks but Simi ran the place. She didn’t want any responsibility other than the
lessons that gave her spirit the freedom it needed. And she liked it that way.

As she looked around the shop, familiar names and logos jumped out at her. Bing, Surftech,
and Hobe surfboards; Body Glove and Rip Curl wet suits; Billabong board shorts and bikinis
filled the racks. Boxes of flip-flops were stacked neatly by the dressing rooms, and Oakley
sunglasses flanked the cash register. She was comfortable here. Having grown up in the water
with a board tether practically glued around her ankle, this was where she felt most alive.

The place she had called home before she returned to the island was very different. Cold,
sterile, bright lights adorned the rooms. Blips and beeps systematically indicating life and death,
hurried voices speaking in hushed tones filled her ears. What she had now had replaced all
that.

In the beginning the silence in her apartment was nerve-racking, almost overwhelming. She kept
a radio on continually, tuned to the island’s only talk station to give her the illusion of having
other people around. She waxed boards to the chatter of the afternoon hosts and tallied the
day’s sales with the night crew. More often than not she fell asleep to the overnight show. Once
she hired Simi, she was able to escape the manufactured ambience and relish the reassuring
sound of the ocean.

Locking the door behind her, she headed toward the beach. An early morning swim always
cleared her head and often erased her nightmares. She hoped this morning would be the same.

As she pulled into the deserted parking lot, she forced herself not to look in the direction of the
Carlyle. She kept her back to the sprawling resort as she donned her wet suit. She didn’t want
to give in to the temptation to search for Elizabeth in one of the lighted windows. She had no
idea where her room was and to look would be ridiculous.

Dawn was just peeking over the horizon when she slid into the water as silently as an eel. She
was a strong swimmer, even stronger since returning, but she remained cautious. Stroke after
stroke took her farther from shore. The tides weren’t terribly strong this time of the day, but
once she had got caught in a riptide that scared the shit out of her. When she was no more
than fifty yards from shore she shifted her stroke and started swimming parallel to the beach.
Judging from the lights of the resorts along the beach, Elizabeth’s was far behind her. She
finally relaxed and swam for another half hour, then turned in the direction she had just come.
The sun was fully above the waterline when she stepped out of the surf.

Elizabeth couldn’t believe it. Of all the minutes in the morning she could walk outside, she chose
the exact moment Colby emerged from the ocean. She froze, her coffee cup not quite to her
lips. The sight of Colby uncoiling her body, rising from the water like a sea goddess, took her
breath. The world stopped. No waves crashing to the shore, no birds welcoming the morning,
no low hum of the world around her. Her vision blurred for an instant before she focused on

Colby. She saw nothing else.

Colby shook her head like Elizabeth had seen her do every time she came out of the water.
She flung water from her short locks in every direction before she smoothed the dark hair away
from her face. The wet suit was like a second skin, leaving very little to Elizabeth’s imagination.
She had seen Colby in much less, but the form-fitting blue neoprene covering her from neck to
ankle was the sexiest thing she had ever witnessed.

She continued to stare, unmoving, as Colby strolled across the sand in the opposite direction.
She felt every beat of her heart as her blood raced through her veins. She heard every
molecule of breath enter and exit her lungs. Her knees grew weak and she was suddenly dizzy.
Her fingers tingled and her hands shook so bad her coffee dribbled over the rim of the almost-
full cup. Her nervous system was on overload.

It wasn’t until Colby was completely out of sight that she finally pulled herself together. What in
the hell was wrong with her? It wasn’t as if she had never seen a stunningly beautiful woman.
But even with the one woman in her past she compared all other lovers to, she hadn’t felt this
level of awareness.

She was confused, concerned that she was suffering from a midlife crisis or emotional
breakdown. She had been under tremendous pressure the last few years with her job. As the
first female president at Embers College she was under immense scrutiny, even after seven
years in the position. Not all the members of the board of trustees had voted for her selection
to the post. Every day was a challenge, every decision second-guessed, and that didn’t even
count the conflicts with the faculty. Some days she wondered why she had ever wanted the job.

She had loved being a teacher, sharing her knowledge and love of history with students eager
to learn everything possible about the subject. Young minds that were quick, insightful, and
constantly questioning had kept her on her toes. Now she felt like she was always a half-step
behind where she should be. The paperwork was endless, staff meetings long, and the petty
squabbles between the faculty members tedious. The constant fund-raising and glad-handing
with alumni and benefactors made her nauseous, like little more than a used-car salesman at
times. It was supposedly lonely at the top, and now that she was there she knew exactly what
that meant. Nobody wanted to be up there with you.

The job had taken a toll on her personal life as well. Her days of casual affairs had ended. She
simply didn’t have the time and, frankly, rarely had the interest. When she was a faculty
member, she hadn’t lived in the closet, but she never took a date to a professional event either.
In the first year or two it didn’t matter. She was so engrossed in her new role she barely had
time to do her laundry, let alone have the energy to have sex. But what was her excuse after
that?

Maybe that was it. She finally sat down at the small table in the corner of the patio. Maybe
being in a place she had never been, on a vacation she desperately needed, had kicked-started
her libido. People on vacation often did things they normally wouldn’t even imagine. Especially in
a tropical paradise like Maui. Reality didn’t seem to exist in all this beauty. Was that starting to
transform her into a woman she’d never seen? More important, was she afraid of her or did
she like her?

“May I join you?”

Elizabeth thought the person in her peripheral vision was her waiter, but when the familiar voice
sounded she turned and looked into dark, inquiring eyes. Colby was dressed in a pair of cargo
shorts and an orange tank top, both pressed mercilessly. She had just taken a bite of eggs
Benedict, her mouth too full to answer. Instead she motioned Colby to the chair across from
her. Before she had a chance to speak, the waiter had offered Colby coffee and asked if she
needed a menu.

Her throat suddenly dry, she had trouble swallowing her breakfast and took a drink of her
orange juice. Colby was looking at her as if to ask, “Am I invited to stay for breakfast?” She
nodded to that question as well. Colby ordered orange juice and oatmeal as the waiter filled her
coffee cup. Finally her mouth was clear enough to speak without seeming rude.

“Good morning. How was your swim?” She realized what she had said a second too late. She
didn’t want Colby to know she’d been watching her in the water. The expression of mild interest
on Colby’s face told her she had failed miserably.

“Great. You should have joined me.”

Colby’s voice was low and almost a whisper, causing a chill to dance down her spine. “Thanks,
but I’m not much of a morning person.” Unless it was waking up with Colby next to her.

“That’s a shame. The water’s perfect. Maybe I’ll change your mind someday.” Colby took her
answer almost as a challenge.

She smiled. She knew herself too well. “I doubt that. I don’t do much before two cups of coffee,
one if I’m running late.” She took another bite of her breakfast as Colby waved for a refill.

“Ah, I remember what that was like,” Colby countered before she stopped abruptly.

Her expression changed from engaging to something dark before transforming back to not quite
the same. What was behind the instant change? But it was none of her business.

Sensing Colby’s withdrawal she said, “It’s a habit I tried to break more times than I can count.
But I finally accepted it and have moved on to try to conquer other, more important vices.”

“Such as?” Colby asked as her coffee arrived.

Her breakfast done, Elizabeth pushed her plate to the side and held her glass of water between
her damp palms. “The Krispy Kreme drive-through, McDonald’s French fries, Nora Roberts
novels.”

“Nora Roberts?” Colby was clearly surprised.

“God, yes, I love her work. My mother still can’t figure out why…how does she phrase it.” She
hesitated to get just the right words. “Why does a college-educated woman with a lot of letters
after her name read trashy romance novels?” She could practically hear her mother’s voice
over her shoulder.

“I couldn’t have asked it better myself,” Colby said.

“Actually, Nora Roberts is anything but trashy, especially when she writes as J.D. Robb, but I’ll
tell you what I’ve been telling her for years.”

“I’m on pins and needles.” Colby bent forward in her chair.

She liked Colby’s quick wit. “That after racking my brain all day, making dozens of decisions,
answering hundreds of questions, and sitting through marathon meetings, a girl just wants to
disappear in fantasy occasionally where she doesn’t have to do anything more taxing than turn
the page.”

Colby nodded. “I see your point. I don’t know who Nora Roberts is, or J.D. Robb, for that
matter, but I get it.”

“You don’t know J.D. Robb?” she asked teasingly.

“Should I?”

“Have you been to a bookstore in the last ten years?”

Colby looked abashed. “If I say no, will you make me pick up the check?”

This made her laugh. “Of course not. You’ll need your money to buy Naked in Death.” At
Colby’s confused look she explained. “It’s the first book in the series featuring Detective Eve
Roberts. She’s not a lesbian, but she kicks ass and is h-o-t.”

Colby reached for the check anyway.

“Hey!”

“My treat, since I busted in on you. I think I can swing both breakfast and being naked in bed.”
Her eyes twinkled and Elizabeth knew she had intentionally misspoken the title of the book she
had just referenced.

“It’s Naked in Death, and I’ll just bet you can.”

The waiter cleared off their dishes, but Elizabeth didn’t want their conversation to end. “No
classes this morning?”

“Not on Wednesdays. A girl’s gotta have a chance to unwind, you know, from racking my brain
all day, making dozens of decisions, answering hundreds of questions, and swallowing gallons
of salt water.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“Which part, racking my brain or making dozens of decisions?”

This conversation felt suspiciously like their first one. “Swallowing gallons of salt water? I’ve
seen you out there, surfer Colby Taylor, and you know when to keep your mouth shut and when
to open it.”

She flushed when Colby’s eyes darkened and darted to her lips. Her words were not intended
to be a play on their intimate encounter two nights ago, but they had the same effect.

“My mother taught me never to argue with a woman with a lot of initials after her name.” Colby
leaned toward her, arms on the table.

“I like a girl who listens to her mother,” she said, slightly breathless.

“I like a girl who stands up to hers,” Colby said softly.

For the second time that day her world seemed to center on Colby. The clinking of silverware,
the ringing of glasses touching the tables vanished. The crowded restaurant was silent. She
was absolutely enthralled with the woman sitting across from her. She couldn’t speak and really
didn’t want to. She could look into those dark eyes for hours and never see the same thing.
Colby broke the spell.

“Since we’ve established that we like each other…do you have any plans for the day?”

“No.” At least none that she could recall. Even if she could, she’d quickly change them. That
thought was very uncharacteristic.

“Have you seen much of my island?” Colby grinned at her reaction to her island.

“Not really. I only arrived on Sunday.” God, had it been only three days since she’d first seen
this woman?

Colby stood, extending her hand just like she had that night. “Then I’ve got the perfect thing.
Interested?”

In you, yes. In anything you have in mind, definitely. She took the outstretched hand again.
“Lead on.”

Chapter Eight

“You’re not afraid of heights, are you?” Colby shouted over the whirling rotor blades. They
were sitting in the second seat of an EC-130B4 Eco-Star, the pride of the Blue Hawaiian
helicopter fleet, awaiting final clearance to lift off. Elizabeth’s headset was connected to the
pilot and her fellow passengers by a yellow button, but she shook her head instead. She was
still in shock that within thirty minutes of leaving the resort she was in a helicopter waiting to
take a bird’s-eye view of the island.

Two other couples were on the flight, both newlyweds and somewhat younger than she and
Colby. Over breakfast she had decided that Colby was around her age, but occasionally
revealed a tired sadness in her eyes when she thought no one was looking.

The butterflies in Elizabeth’s stomach settled as the aircraft rose from the ground. She was
sandwiched between the Italian husband on her left and Colby on her right. The pilot had
assigned their seats based on weight, and Colby was sitting next to the window. She had tried
to get the pilot to switch her with Elizabeth, but he had politely refused.

Fifteen minutes later they were flying over the strip of hotels on the Kaanapali side of the island.
She saw her hotel and the familiar pink of the Embassy Villas next door. As the pilot identified
various points of interest, Colby motioned for her to lean over her to get a better view out the
window. Each time she did she caught a whiff of the scent that was uniquely Colby, and more
than once she felt slightly dizzy. Several times during the flight Colby touched her arm or leg to
get her attention while she pointed out something. Every touch was hot and left a mark that only
she could feel.

Halfway into the flight the pilot hovered over the green slopes of Mt. Haleakala. After a few
minutes he descended to a remote landing site. Colby helped her out of the helicopter when the
large blades completely stopped, again offering her hand.

Colby didn’t release her hand as they walked in the lush grass. They strolled to the top of the
slope, and with barely any wind it was absolutely silent. She didn’t say anything, unwilling to
break the solitude. Colby seemed to take her job as tour guide seriously, and her voice was
soft as she pointed out the West Maui Mountains, Lanai, Kahoolawe, Molokini Islet, and the
small island of Molokai. Still holding Colby’s hand, she stood in awe until the pop of a
champagne bottle behind her broke the quiet of Mother Nature.

“Champagne?” Colby asked.

“Seems perfect. I wouldn’t miss it,” she replied, and followed Colby back down the slope.

As they drank, the pilot entertained them with amusing stories of other flights and a brief
geography lesson of the 20,000 acre Ulupalakua Ranch where they had landed. The rolling
green pastureland, forests, and mountain vistas were home to thousands of head of cattle,
some of which Elizabeth saw grazing below.

The pilot insisted they pose in front of the helicopter for several pictures, and Elizabeth’s knees
went weak when Colby put her arm around her waist. The pilot assumed they were a couple
and teased them into the same romantic poses the other passengers had assumed.

The feel of Colby’s strong body pressed against her back, arms wrapped around her waist,
almost undid her. She was on fire. Every nerve ending, one in particular, was ready to explode.
When the pilot said they needed to head back, she didn’t know whether to be relieved or
disappointed.

The remainder of the flight was a blur. She remembered only the feel of soft, hot skin and the
coiled energy of Colby sitting beside her. She was so on e.g. she could barely walk from where
the helicopter landed to Colby’s truck.

“Ready for some lunch?” Colby asked, rolling down her window and handing a five-dollar bill to
the parking-lot attendant.

With her stomach tied in knots, she was in no mood for food. “Sure,” she lied.

The water splashed onto the stamped-cement patio just out of reach of her feet. Colby had let
Elizabeth choose the table at Kimo’s, and now they were sitting outside and Colby was relishing
the fresh air. She had no idea what had gotten into her this morning. First it was breakfast, then
the helicopter ride, and now a lunch invitation. She hadn’t spent this much time with a woman in
years. At least outside of a sexual liaison.

She studied Elizabeth as she studied the menu. That same strand of hair was determined to
remain free. Whether she wore a ball cap, a ponytail, or a bun like she had it in now, it simply
refused to be tamed. Was Elizabeth the same?

She was stunningly beautiful. A smattering of freckles across her nose made her look young,
whereas the few laugh lines around her eyes made her appear sophisticated and womanly. And
she was definitely all woman.

Sitting beside her in the helicopter had been nothing but torture. The ride lasted only ninety
minutes but had felt like forever. She hadn’t intended it to be anything other than the best way

to show Elizabeth the wide variety of landscape on the island. She had been on this trip several
times herself, but never with a woman. More specifically a woman she was interested in and
for some odd reason wanted only the best for.

When Elizabeth had stretched over her to get a better view of something out the window, Colby
inhaled the smell of her shampoo or perfume or whatever it was that made up the fragrance
that she remembered from that night. She couldn’t keep her hands to herself in the aircraft and
thoroughly enjoyed their impromptu photo shoot.

What was happening? Feeling this interested in someone or something other than surfing
frightened her. She didn’t deserve this, whatever this was. She wasn’t worthy of the attention of
an attractive woman. Sex was one thing, but this was altogether different.

“Have you always been a surf instructor?”

Elizabeth’s question caught her off guard. Her heart raced and panic threatened to overwhelm
her. When she met someone new she hated for the small talk to turn to her and her past. Like
the other times, she had a choice. Tell the truth as it had been or as it was now. She must have
had an odd expression because Elizabeth quickly said, “Hey, I’m just making conversation here.
I’m not trying to get your genealogy chart or your DNA.” Then she scooted her chair back a few
inches.

Colby forced herself to calm down and try to laugh it off. “Too late, you got my DNA the other
night.” She had never slipped this badly in her story, even in the beginning.

“I suppose you’re right,” Elizabeth replied warily.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already?” Colby put her hand to her chest. “I’m crushed.” The
tension disappeared with the sound of Elizabeth laughing across the table.

“Bullshit. I don’t think your ego was even slightly bruised.” This time her eyes sparkled.

She sagged against the back of her chair. “Ouch, another ding. What am I doing to deserve this
treatment?” She had successfully erased the look of hurt from Elizabeth’s face.

“Teasing me.” Elizabeth took a sip of her ice tea.

“Teasing you. You’re the one who was practically sitting on my lap in the helicopter.” She hadn’t
felt this good with a woman in longer than she could recall. She never thought she would again.

Elizabeth cocked one eyebrow at her. “You invited me, remember?”

“Details, details.” She laughed and waved her hand to indicate that details were far too petty to
address.

“So do you plan to answer my question or not?”

Elizabeth was tenacious; she would give her that, no matter how uncomfortable it made her.
Again she looked into the green eyes across from her. “No.”

“No, you don’t plan to answer the question or no, you haven’t always been a surf instructor?”

She was good. Very few women in Colby’s life could give as good as they got when it came to
verbal sparring. Except her sisters. Used to drive her mother crazy the way they all had to have
the last word.

“No,” she answered, then raised her hand to stop Elizabeth’s next question. “No, I haven’t
always been a surf instructor. And don’t ask me what I did before, because it doesn’t matter.
I’ve never been in prison, jail, or court. I barely jaywalk.” The waitress brought their food,
distracting them.

“My mother will be pleased to hear that,” Elizabeth said, squirting a large dollop of ketchup on
her plate.

“Tell me about her.” She was more than a little frightened at the thought she actually wanted to
meet her someday.

Elizabeth bit into a ketchup-laden French fry before answering. “She and my dad live in San
Diego.”

“Is that home?”

“Not anymore.” Elizabeth wasn’t much more specific in her answers than she was when she
introduced herself yesterday.

“Any siblings?” She continued asking questions that hadn’t come out of her mouth in years.

Elizabeth chewed her bite of hamburger before answering. Colby was impressed that she was
a hearty eater. The way she was chowing down on her burger and fries left no doubt she
wasn’t a health-food nut. Her mouth still full, she held up two fingers.

“Brothers or sisters?”

This time Elizabeth nodded.

“One of each?”

Another nod. This was like twenty questions.

“You?” Elizabeth asked, her mouth finally cleared of angus beef.

“Five, all girls.”

“Six girls. My God, that’s a sorority.”

Even though she was surprised that she had answered the question honestly, Elizabeth’s
reaction still made her laugh. “My mother used to say the same thing when she was trying to
get us all ready for church.”

“Is she still alive?” Elizabeth asked cautiously.

“Boy, is she ever. She lives in Texas.” Okay, one truth and one lie.

“I thought you said you grew up here?”

She was impressed by Elizabeth’s deductive reasoning, even on such a trivial matter. “I did.
She moved there ten years ago with her husband.” Colby didn’t need to explain that her
mother’s husband wasn’t her father. That statement usually did the job.

“Any of your sibs live here?” Elizabeth finished off her French fries and had nabbed one of
Colby’s off her plate. This was more than a simple meet-and-greet meal.

“No. They’re all over the country with their respective careers or husbands. It’s just me.” She

felt a pang of loneliness, which surprised her. She was alone on the island but never thought of
herself as lonely.

“So that’s my story. What’s yours?” Colby sat back in her chair, her complete attention on
Elizabeth.

“Nothing special. I’m the president of a college in Essington, a small town in eastern New
Hampshire.” Elizabeth always added the location of her school, as most people had never
heard of it.

“Madam President,” Colby said admiringly, tipping her glass in her direction.

“Not today. Today, I’m just Elizabeth.”

“So tell me about your school.”

She gave Colby the three-minute elevator speech about Embers College. With an enrollment of
only twelve thousand students and several hundred faculty, it was small enough that she knew
all the ins, outs, and goings-on there. She regaled Colby with several stories of college
shenanigans and soon they were both laughing.

“So why the helicopter ride?” she asked, finishing her tea and wiping her mouth.

The waitress refilled their glasses and cleared the table, but not before Elizabeth grabbed two
more fries off Colby’s plate.

“Why not?”

“Because that was an expensive way to impress me,” she said calmly, looking directly at her.

“Who said anything about trying to impress you?”

“Who drops three hundred dollars for a ninety-minute helicopter ride with a complete stranger?”

This woman definitely kept her on her toes, which was exciting. “We’re not complete strangers.
We shared breakfast, exchanged a few words in the grocery store…” She knew Elizabeth
would pick up her dangling statement.

“And had sex on the beach.”

She put her hands up in defense. “Now that’s where you’re wrong. We didn’t have sex on the
beach.” She revised her comment at the look of disbelief on Elizabeth’s face. “Okay, we were
almost having sex on the beach. That qualifies us as something other than complete strangers.”
She sat back, confident she had made her case.

“Then what would you call us?” Elizabeth asked, clearly expecting an answer.

“Well, we’re not friends, not lovers…yet, so how about budding acquaintances. Jeez, that
sounded lame.” She grimaced.

“Hmm.” Elizabeth had her arms crossed over her chest, hand on her chin. She was too cute in
that pose. “I guess it’ll do. For now at least. But I’m still uncomfortable with how much money
you spent. I’ll get lunch,” she said, grabbing the bill before the waitress could even set the black
folder on the table.

She knew Elizabeth had no clue how much money she had and that she used to spend more on

a pair of shoes than she’d paid for the helicopter ride. She had held her breath when the clerk
at the heliport swiped her Visa card, which had more dust on it from lack of use than the pots
and pans in her kitchen.

They sat in comfortable silence watching the waves roll in. A small black crab crawled across
the top of the wall in front of them. She was comfortable with the peacefulness, and Elizabeth
didn’t seem to need to fill it with idle chitchat either. Several sailboats and a catamaran raced
across the water. A cruise ship docked at the pier was unloading passengers for a day of
exploration and shopping. The waitress refilled their glasses several more times before
Elizabeth excused herself to go to the ladies’ room.

As Colby watched her retreat she wondered what was next. Should she ask her if she needed
to do some shopping, walk on the boardwalk, maybe stop and get a tattoo? Each option was
equally absurd as far as she was concerned, but she wanted to do them all and more, as long
as it was with her. Maybe she could simply ask if they could go back to Elizabeth’s room and
find a mutually satisfying way to spend the afternoon. That too would be more than okay with
her. It surprised her that it hadn’t been her first choice.

“Ready?” Elizabeth asked.

Ready for what, she thought but didn’t ask. “Sure.” Even though Elizabeth had picked up the
check and the tip, she dropped two twenties on the table to compensate the waitress for
monopolizing the table for three hours.

Outside on the bustling street, she took Elizabeth’s arm, pulling her against her chest before a
group of blue-haired tourists could mow over her. They all wore badges on lanyards stating the
name of the cruise ship she had seen docked at the pier.

Elizabeth stiffened, then relaxed as the crowd passed. Colby’s nipples hardened and she knew
Elizabeth felt them too. Was it her imagination or did Elizabeth lean into her more than was
necessary to evade the tourists? Who cares, she thought, savoring the feel of Elizabeth’s body
against her. She bent forward, her lips close to Elizabeth’s ear.

Colby’s breath on her neck sent shivers down Elizabeth’s back that landed directly in her crotch.
All day she had been in a state of arousal just by a look, a gesture, and definitely a touch.
Colby was the perfect gentleman, so to speak, but Elizabeth wished she’d make a move.

When it came to women Elizabeth was aggressive, going after exactly what she wanted, but in
the case of this Hawaiian beauty, she was shy. It was ridiculous. They had practically
swallowed each other’s tongues, and Colby’s hand was halfway down her pants, for God’s
sake, so shy was definitely not a word she would associate with this scenario. What was it
about Colby that made her need to be taken? More important, how could she let her know?

“I’ve got some work to do,” Elizabeth said, to answer Colby’s recent query. Reluctantly she
stepped out of the safety of Colby’s arms. It had felt good, too good, but she had an
appointment at four she couldn’t miss.

“Work? I thought you were here on vacation.”

“What gave you that idea?” she asked as they walked down the crowded sidewalk toward

Colby’s truck. They had talked about many things this morning, but not about why she was on
the island.

Colby answered as they passed a chocolate shop. “Hmm, let’s see. Maui, in my opinion, is the
most beautiful of the islands, you’re a guest at the Carlyle, you’ve been on the beach three
days in the middle of the week. I’m not a rocket scientist, but one plus one plus one equals
vacation.”

“Close, but my math answer is one sublet villa plus one publishing deadline divided by one
exhausted college president equals two months in Maui.”

“You don’t look exhausted.” Colby dragged her eyes over her body, paying special attention to
her bare legs.

“Don’t believe everything you see, surfer girl.” She surprised herself by calling Colby by the
nickname she’d given her before she knew the real one.

“I could say the same thing, Madam President.”

“That’s Doctor to you,” she tossed back, referring to her PhD that she had worked years to
attain.

“Oh, man, I love it when a woman talks all official to me.” Colby gently took her arm and led her
across the street, avoiding another throng of people. “What are you working on?”

“I’m writing a book.”

“Fiction or academic?” Colby asked.

“Fiction.”

“Genre?”

“Guess,” Elizabeth tossed back. She was midway through her first foray into the world of
lesbian romance and was hesitant to discuss it with anyone but Diane.

Colby stopped walking, turned, and looked at her, then crossed her arms across her chest and
appeared thoughtful. “Hmm, this sounds like a trick question.” Elizabeth’s body burned where
Colby’s eyes roamed over it. “It’s either sappy romance or hard-core whodunit?”

“Why not both?”

“Both?” Colby’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Yeah, hard-core romance. You know, who did what specifically and to whom?” Her body
flushed as she remembered a particular scene in the soon-to-be-published erotic collection she
had finished edits on just before she left for this vacation. It was so hot she had to take care of
business, very personal business, before she could sleep that night. It took a few moments for
Colby to catch on.

“Will you talk dirty to me?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. Colby was not only stunningly gorgeous but had a quick wit and a
contagious smile.

She slipped her arm into Colby’s and they started walking again. “I don’t do readings.”

“If I ask nicely?”

“No.”

“What if I beg?”

She stumbled, the image of Colby under her begging for release overwhelming her. “We’ll see.
Where did all these people come from?” She needed to change the subject and somehow
managed to speak above the rapid beating of the pulse point between her legs.

“The cruise ships at the pier. They’ll be here all day and leave at midnight.” Colby stopped at a
small booth selling bottled water. She bought two, then gave one to her. “They sit on the beach,
drive to Hana, shop a lot.”

“Any of them take surfing lessons?” They both laughed when three overweight women and one
in a scooter passed them.

“Not hardly. Hey.” Colby stopped, a wide smile on her face. “How about you? Wanna learn how
to master Mother Nature?”

“Me?”

“Why not? You’ve got the body for it.” Colby looked her up and down again.

She read the mischief in Colby’s eyes and went fishing for a compliment. “And what kind of
body is that?”

Colby’s eyes darkened and she stepped closer. “Gorgeous,” Colby whispered, lowering her
head to kiss her.

She watched as Colby’s mouth moved toward her in slow motion, each millisecond agonizingly
long. She wanted that kiss, wanted to feel the urgency behind the lips that had thrilled her once
before yet tormented her today. An instant before they kissed she had second thoughts.

She’d questioned her motives and sanity the first time. Why was she letting this happen again?
Hadn’t she been relieved when the boys on the beach had interrupted them? Then why was she
breathless for her kiss? She knew Diane would say, “Who gives a shit why? Just go with it.”
And for once in her life Elizabeth listened to her.

Colby’s lips were as soft and warm as she remembered. Almost tentative, Colby kissed her
and she sensed driving passion barely restrained. Colby’s desire for her thrilled her. She hadn’t
felt this way in a long, long time, and, by God, this was just a simple kiss. Who was she
fooling? Nothing was simple about it.

She wanted the moment to last forever and go further than it had that night. Her body was
alive, pulsing with need, and she was swept away in the moment. She would make a complete
fool of herself right here on the sidewalk if she didn’t stop right now.

Summoning her strength she pulled away, her lips lingering for an instant. She was breathing
hard, but if the rapid rise and fall of Colby’s breasts was any indication, so was she.

“How about tomorrow afternoon?”

Colby had no idea what Elizabeth was talking about. The moment she kissed her she
completely lost track of time and space and would have stayed in that universe forever. Her

body surged as she immediately remembered what it felt like to have Elizabeth’s lips on hers,
her bare flesh under her exploring hands. She wanted this woman like she hadn’t wanted in a
long, long time. She was sensuous, beautiful, witty, engaging, and brilliant. She had had women
who were sensuous and beautiful, but she hadn’t spent any time with them to find out if they
were the rest. She hadn’t wanted to.

She didn’t know which shook her more—the kiss or the knowledge that she wanted to learn
everything possible about Elizabeth Collins, PhD. She hadn’t been interested in any women
since Gretchen, and certainly hadn’t cared to learn about anything more revealing than their tan
lines. When her mind cleared Elizabeth was staring at her. “What?”

“Your invitation. To teach me how to surf?”

Elizabeth was looking at her as if she had lost her mind. Maybe she had, at least a small part
of it on the woman standing in front of her on a busy sidewalk on the fifth day of June in Maui.

“Colby?” Elizabeth calling her name broke the trance.

“Yes, uh, uh, definitely,” she stuttered. “Tomorrow’s perfect.”

She drove back to Elizabeth’s hotel simply enjoying the company of her sitting beside her. They
finalized the details for their afternoon, and all too quickly, she was dropping Elizabeth at her
hotel lobby. She wanted to say something, anything to prolong their time together, but Elizabeth
had jumped out of the truck when it stopped, almost like she couldn’t get away from her fast
enough.

Since meeting Elizabeth she had wanted to run away as well. Then why did she keep running
toward her instead of the other way?

Chapter Nine

Colby thought her heart would stop. Her last class was wrapping up when Elizabeth stepped
out onto the sand in a pair of boy shorts and a bikini top, her bare stomach an invitation. Her
hair was up. If she didn’t look so hot she’d be cute. Colby swallowed a gulp of salt water.
Coughing, she ended the class a few minutes early, sending eight new surfers off on their own.

“Ready?” she asked, still gazing up and down Elizabeth’s body. She was being rude but her
eyes were invisible behind the opaque lenses of her sunglasses. Elizabeth had runner’s legs,
the muscles in her calves and thighs well defined. A long pale scar ran along the outside of her
right leg and disappeared into the hem of her swim shorts. The pair of perfectly formed breasts
that fit nicely into Colby’s hands a few days ago were hiding modestly behind the blue material,
but nothing could conceal the hard nipples underneath. Her mouth began to water.

“I can’t make it.”

“You can’t?” Colby repeated Elizabeth’s statement as her heart sank.

“No, something’s come up at school. I have to take a call in half an hour and it’ll probably last at
least an hour, maybe longer. I’m sorry, Colby, I really wanted to do this.”

She saw the disappointment in Elizabeth’s eyes and heard it in her voice, though it was
nowhere near the level of hers. “Hey, no problem. Another time.” She acted more nonchalant

than she felt. This is why she didn’t get involved, didn’t let herself. It hurt and she had hurt
enough. “I’m around most every afternoon.” She was intentionally noncommittal.

A flash of something crossed Elizabeth’s face before she covered it with her own false
indifference. “Yeah, another time.” It looked to Colby like she wanted to say more, but she
didn’t. Instead she simply said, “See you later,” and walked away.

You are going to hell, Elizabeth Grace Collins, she said to herself. Nothing was going on at
school that necessitated a phone call, at least not that she knew of. She was a coward, plain
and simple. Afraid of spending more time with Colby.

Being with Colby turned her mind to mush and her body on fire. From the moment she saw her
in the water a connection, a hum had started inside her.

She knew hundreds of women of all shapes, sizes, backgrounds, educational levels, and
professions. She appreciated the beauty of all women, but the especially stunningly hot ones
like Colby definitely caught her attention. Unlike some of her friends, she had never been
attracted to any woman who wasn’t a lesbian. She seemed to have a definite on/off switch, not
one with a dimmer.

Her interest in Colby was very different, and she had spent the better part of the morning
thinking about it. Actually, she had spent most of the night as well. And it troubled her. She’d
thought she was in love a few times, and in lust a few more than that. But she couldn’t put her
mind around why Colby so intrigued, allured, and captivated her. Colby was stunning, her hair
as black as night, every move graceful, her skin kissed by the sun. But those eyes, the color of
coal, told a different story. A very different story.

She detected sadness in them. Colby rarely let it show, hiding behind flirtatious banter and
teasing innuendos. But she had seen it once or twice and it had touched her deeply. She
imagined a myriad of possible causes. The scenarios were endless, as were the players. But
the last thing she needed was to get involved with anyone, especially a local. She was here to
relax, research, and write, not get dragged into someone else’s drama.

She had more than her share of problems, dilemmas, and serious issues. The board was
crawling all over her about the budget, the tenure committee was kicking her ass about the
discipline she had doled out to a professor regarding a Saturday-night drunk, and if her friends
didn’t stop nagging her to get laid she’d tell them to get fucked themselves.

As the sun was lifting itself over the horizon she had made a decision and spent all morning
convincing herself it was the right one. Why were all the right decisions the most difficult? The
same reason all the delicious food was bad for you. Sometimes life just sucked. But she was
very certain of one thing. Everything was not what it seemed on the surface with Colby Taylor,
surf instructor, and she wanted nothing to do with discovering what was underneath.

Elizabeth’s resolve lasted three days. Colby must have been waiting for her to emerge from her
hotel, because the minute she stepped out of the lobby she was there asking if she wanted to
grab some lunch. Thirty minutes later she was sitting on a wooden bench under a banyan tree

in downtown Lahaina.

They had stopped at a local restaurant and ordered a box lunch, then walked a few blocks to
the square. As they ate, Colby recited a bit of Maui history.

“This banyan tree was first planted in 1873 and marked the fiftieth anniversary of Christian
missionary work here in Lahaina. It was imported from India when it was only eight feet tall. It’s
over sixty feet high now and has twelve major trunks and a huge core. It stretches over a two-
hundred-foot area and shades two-thirds of an acre. See that section there?” Colby pointed to
a branch system practically horizontal to the ground. “See what looks like vines hanging down?”

Elizabeth followed her finger and nodded. The branches of this enormous tree had hundreds of
such vines.

“That’s actually the root system. These trees have aerial roots, or roots that grow upward and
form secondary trunks to support the expansive limbs.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s amazing.” People were taking pictures everywhere and
Elizabeth suddenly wanted to have a picture made of her and Colby leaning against one of the
massive branches, arms wrapped around each other like the couple directly across from them.
Wouldn’t that be a fine souvenir to take back and display on her desk?

What was she thinking? She couldn’t get away with a picture of her and another woman on the
hundred-year-old mahogany desk. Her assistant would be the first to ask about it, and she
could practically hear the unspoken questions in her voice. Frank Wagner from the math
department would be next. He had lobbied hard for the position she now held and came sniffing
around every week or so trying to dig up any dirt he could on her. He was most likely the one
funneling shit to the board that she in turn had to spend hours answering. She could just imagine
his leer when he saw the photo.

“Elizabeth?”

Colby had said something and she hadn’t even heard her. “I’m sorry, you caught me
daydreaming. What did you say?” Her inattentiveness embarrassed her.

“I asked if you’d like to walk down by the water.”

“Sure, that would be nice,” she said quickly. Anything to spend more time with Colby. Even
though she’d convinced herself otherwise. But that was yesterday and the day before and the
day before that. Today was another day entirely.

Colby didn’t begin to try to understand the shift in Elizabeth. She had practically run away the
other day after her excuse not to go surfing. She had a lot of experience reading people and
had seen right through her.

First she was elusive, then bold, then shy and adventurous. At times Colby didn’t know if she
would push her away or jump her right where they stood. She was sultry and restrained all in
the same body, practically in the same breath. It was almost as if she was fighting her
attraction.

Colby understood, since she was a local and any relationship they had would be short at best,
heartbreaking at worst. Some women were built for short-term vacation flings, but she
suspected Elizabeth was trying to decide if she was one of them. Her willingness to be kissed

under the eucalyptus trees that night, sure, and the way she blatantly flirted with her said she
was. But something was holding her back.

Colby’s nickname preceded her, and she was a legend in the minds of her fellow surfers. If
they knew the truth they would be stunned. She wasn’t celibate but certainly didn’t sleep with as
many women as everyone thought. It was easier to play along than try to convince them
otherwise. She honestly didn’t know why women found her so attractive. She was too thin, her
breasts too flat, and her wardrobe, as limited as it was, was for function, not fashion.

She envisioned Elizabeth sitting on the shore that night. At that moment Colby had drifted
outside herself and watched from a distance as she walked over to Elizabeth, drew her into her
arms, and kissed her. Somebody else had explored her lips and mouth, toyed with her tongue.
A stranger had touched her hot flesh, caressed her heavy breasts, and sucked an erect nipple,
then dipped into her pants. But it was Colby who had stepped away, ending the vision that later
became clear as the fog of passion dissipated.

She had no right to this woman, wasn’t entitled to this joy, this excitement, this pleasure, but
had done it anyway. She was ashamed of her actions and glad they had been interrupted. But
she continued to be drawn to her. It made no sense, though it had driven her to practically
stake out the resort for three days until Elizabeth finally emerged.

Elizabeth was a mystery. And it scared the hell out of her that she wanted to solve it.

“I thought we were meeting at the pool.” Colby hadn’t expected Elizabeth to be waiting for her.
After walking and talking for several hours yesterday afternoon they had rescheduled
Elizabeth’s surfing lesson for today.

“We were. I just thought I’d meet you halfway. It’s not a problem, is it?” Elizabeth hesitated just
before she dropped her towel and beach bag onto a vacant chair.

“No, not at all,” she choked out. Her breath had stuck somewhere between an inhale and an
exhale at the sight of Elizabeth walking toward her in her beachwear. “Just give me a minute
and we’ll get started.”

She quickly secured the boards and life vests she used for her classes and jogged back to
where Elizabeth was waiting. She had wanted to at least brush her teeth before seeing
Elizabeth again, because they would be very close for the next hour.

“Ready?” she asked, wondering if she was.

Elizabeth gave a thumbs-up. “Let’s do it.”

Her mouth grew dry and her hands began to shake. She had never been jittery, even during the
first lesson she ever gave. But this was different. This was Elizabeth, and she wanted not only
to impress her but have her enjoy surfing as much as she did. Here we go.

Elizabeth was standing next to one of the boards she had stuck vertically in the sand.

“Okay, usually I begin with a little history lesson, but we can skip that and start with the basics
—”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, I want it all. History, safety, equipment. Everything you’d give a paying customer.”

“Okay, but you’re nothing like any of my other students.”

“Well, I’ve never had a teacher as distractingly good-looking as you. So we’re even. Except I
get the raw end here. If I don’t pay attention I’ll end up drinking more of the Pacific than I care
to.”

Elizabeth’s smile was devastating, and Colby had to open her mouth several times before
something coherent came out. “Surfing is one of the oldest activities on the islands. It was a
form of transportation from one island to another, and fishermen used it to bring their catch
back to shore. Over time, surfing evolved from a form of getting around to an enjoyable
pastime.”

“Kind of like sex,” Elizabeth said calmly. She must have looked confused because Elizabeth
clarified her comment. “It was needed to continue the human race, but now we do it for fun as
well.”

Colby swallowed the vision of having fun with Elizabeth. “Spoken like a true scholar. Now,
where was I? Yes, I remember. The beach movies of the fifties and sixties glamorized surfing
while Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon romanticized it. Can’t beat either one. It’s a great
chick magnet,” she said, ignoring the look of surprise on Elizabeth’s face and moving toward the
board. “We use several types of boards. This is a longboard. It’s long, duh, wide, stable, more
buoyant, and easier to paddle than the others. It’s ideal for beginners. Now for the safety
speech.” She moved away from the board and looked Elizabeth directly in the eye.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that surfing is very dangerous. Not just the drowning part, but
these boards are solid, heavy, and damaging to whatever they connect with. Especially flesh
and bone. Be aware of where people are around you all the time you’re in the water. Collisions
between people and between boards and people are not pretty. Rest when you’re tired. Don’t
try to show off. Watch out for coral and rocks hidden under the sand. We don’t have much
trouble with jellyfish or sea urchins, but keep your eyes open. Any questions?”

“No, ma’am, so far so good.” Elizabeth gave her a mock salute and returned her smile.

“Okay, end of safety talk. Now, surf etiquette. The surfer riding the wave has the right of way.
The surfer nearest to the whitewater or breaking point of the wave has the right of way to the
wave. Don’t paddle or catch the wave in front of another surfer. Don’t steal the other surfer’s
wave. That’s really in poor taste. Got it?” She looked at Elizabeth.

“Check.” Elizabeth gave another thumbs-up.

“Okay, the easiest way to learn is to practice all the moves here on the beach. The board is
stable and you can get your form down before you have to balance in the water.” She dropped
a board in the sand and went over each step several times, correcting Elizabeth’s form or
moving her feet to the proper place.

After fifteen minutes she said, “Okay, let’s get in.” She pulled the board up and handed it to
Elizabeth, who had a look of anticipation and excitement in her eyes. Elizabeth easily carried
the bulky board into the waves. After ten or fifteen yards, the water was almost to their chests.

“Put the board in the water and lie on your stomach.” Elizabeth did as she was told. “Okay,
good. Now just relax and feel how the board moves under you. Get your balance, good. Now
lean a little to the left. Now the right. Good. Feel how she responds?”

She had given these instructions hundreds of times, and thank God for that, because all she
could think about right now was how much she wanted to get her hands on Elizabeth’s tight
ass. It was perfect and right in front of her. She had more than her fair share of women in this
position in her classes, but none had ever tempted her.

She was still reeling from the proximity of their bodies when they were practicing in the sand.
Now, when she touched Elizabeth again, her body reverberated as she remembered how it felt.
Whether she moved her foot closer to the front of the board, placed her hand in the small of her
back to emphasize posture, or touched her thigh to level her leg, she was turned on. Colby
almost fell off her board when an unexpected wave crashed into her.

“Okay, now let’s talk about what to do when a wave comes your way. You need to adjust your
body weight as it reaches you. Slightly shift backward, then forward again. This rocking motion
will keep your board from sliding out from under you.” Just then another wave came and
Elizabeth did exactly what Colby had told her to. “Good, very good.”

She told Elizabeth to start paddling, then moved next to her and took one of her arms. “Let me
show you. Like this. Nice, firm, slow strokes. That’s it, just like that,” she said as Elizabeth took
over again. She learned quickly and soon mastered the movement.

“Okay, now let’s try sitting up. This move is a little tricky. Watch me,” she said, demonstrating
each step. “First, push up with your arms and arch your back a little. Then open your legs and
straddle the board. Hang on to it so you don’t tip, then straighten up.” She completed each
movement in slow motion to show Elizabeth exactly what to do. “Be careful and pay attention to
the swell of the water. You want to ride it up and down, not fight it, or you’ll tumble off. Lean
into the wave when it comes and arch your back when it passes.”

When Colby finished that part of the lesson she looked at her student. Elizabeth had desire
written all over her face before concentration replaced it. She knew that look, had seen it
before on Elizabeth’s face, the night they kissed on the beach. Her insides started to throb.
Good God, would she always get like this in this woman’s company?

“Okay, I think I got it,” Elizabeth said, turning Colby’s attention to the board.

She did get it and smiled as she sat comfortably on top of the big board. “Now what?”

Colby had no clue. Elizabeth had followed her directions to the letter and in doing so had just
completed one of the most erotic movements she had ever seen. Her body was fluid, her
muscles flexing, chin high, back arched, legs spread. Colby envisioned that Elizabeth would look
just like that on top of her as she orgasmed.

“Colby?” Elizabeth shouted over the wave that splashed water into her face.

“Oh, um, okay, good.” She was having trouble forming a coherent thought, let alone a
sentence. She had seen other women complete the same maneuver, but none evoked the
image that still danced in her mind.

“Ready to try one?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Elizabeth said with enthusiasm. “What do I do?”

She gave Elizabeth step-by-step instructions, and after six or seven tries and spills off her
board, Elizabeth succeeded in standing up. She gave an excited yelp just as a miniature wave
dumped her into the water. Colby laughed as Elizabeth’s head popped up. “You had it until you
got carried away with yourself. You’re doing great. Now all you do is practice, practice,
practice.”

Thirty minutes later Colby called it quits.

“But I was just getting good.” Elizabeth almost pouted.

“Did you forget one of the safety rules? Rest when you’re tired. You don’t know it yet but you’ll
be exhausted soon, and you need to get back to shore. Come on, I’m the teacher and you’re
the student. I don’t know how you do it in that fancy school of yours, but in my school the
teacher is always right.” She slid off her board and into the thigh-deep water. As she lifted her
board out of the water Elizabeth gazed at her with a wicked gleam in her eye. “What?”

“But I thought I was the teacher’s pet?”

Her heart skipped and the sand suddenly became very difficult to walk in. “You are, and the

teacher wants to keep it that way. Now, unstrap your tether and go sit down. I’ll get us
something to drink.”

On fire, Elizabeth watched Colby walk away. She had been so aroused by Colby’s half-
nakedness and nearness on the beach she could hardly concentrate on what she was saying.
Somehow she had managed to do everything she needed to in the water and, even with too
many spills to count, found she really enjoyed it. But right now she was thoroughly enjoying
watching her surf instructor walk away from her.

Colby’s body was strong and powerful yet she had the grace of a cat. Her shoulders were
broad, her back tapering down to slim hips that somehow managed to keep her board shorts
on. Just a slight sway in her walk indicated she was female. She was one fine specimen of a
woman. For the umpteenth time she asked herself why she was fighting what she obviously
wanted.

Colby returned with two large bottles of water and Elizabeth sat next to her, a mirror of the
position she had taken. The board stuck in the sand provided a perfect backrest, and she
leaned into the solid surface. A flashback reminded her of the last time her back was pressed
against this board. Another hot flush spread through her. God, what was going on? She
reminded herself again why she needed to stay away from this woman.

“What are you grinning about?”

“Nothing,” she replied, trying unsuccessfully to wipe the expression off her face.

“Don’t give me that. You’re thinking about something? Tell me.” Colby moved her fingers in sync
with her words.

“I was just thinking how sexy surfing is.” So much for self-discipline.

“Sexy?” She looked confused.

“Yes, sexy. Have you ever thought about what you say, the instructions you give, how they
sound?”

“Not really. What am I missing?”

“Practically everything you said, every instruction or technique, had a direct allusion to sex.” Or
was it just her overactive libido and wishful thinking? “I mean, come on, Colby. Push with your
arms, arch your back, open your legs, rock back and forth. Holy shit, it sounds like chapter five
in The Joy of Lesbian Sex.” Was Colby blushing?

“I’d never really thought about it.”

“Well, I certainly did,” she murmured under her breath, but not quite low enough.

Colby turned her head in her direction and nailed her with a look of complete desire. “And?”

“And it was just an observation.”

“And?” she repeated, her eyes not leaving Elizabeth’s. While Colby waited for her response,
her eyes grew darker, her pupils dilating even in the bright late-afternoon sun. Colby wanted
her, no doubt about it. But what did she want?

She was no stranger to casual sex. It worked for her and she had very few regrets afterward.

So why not now, with this woman who was so obviously offering? It wouldn’t mean anything for
either of them. How could it? They barely knew each other. A quick vacation fling for her and
whatever Colby would get out of it. No harm, no foul, no complicated feelings. No feelings at all
except the raw hunger reflecting back at her.

“Would you like to go back to my room?” Her voice was husky.

Colby raised one eyebrow. “Are you inviting me in for afternoon tea?”

It was almost impossible for her to take a deep breath. This was it. The moment they both
knew would come when they couldn’t or didn’t want to dance around the pull between them any
longer. Slowly she looked at the tan legs splayed out beside her, the flat stomach, small
breasts moving up and down quicker with each passing second, and finally into dark, black
eyes. “I don’t have any tea.”

By the time they got to her villa she could barely restrain herself. Their kisses and initial
exploration on the beach that night were simply foreplay. Colby stepped close, her body fitting
nicely behind her, and she fumbled with the card key before sliding it into the slot. The blinking
green light on the keypad signaled more than the unlocking of the door.

Chapter Ten

Colby followed Elizabeth into the villa, too nervous to notice the furnishings. She did see that the
curtains were open, allowing the late-afternoon sun into the large room. In her experience, most
women, for whatever reason, preferred the dark of night. But not Elizabeth. She had invited her
here for only one reason. Colby wanted to make love to her in the daylight when she could see
every curve, peak, and valley that was only Elizabeth. She wanted to watch her climax, see her
lose control. That thought alone kicked her desire level up a notch.

She wanted Elizabeth desperately but at the same time she was cautious. Elizabeth had so
many appealing qualities, the combination a powerful aphrodisiac. But something about her
touched Colby.

She didn’t allow her emotions to get in the way of having sex with a woman. In fact, she rarely
felt anything anymore. Over the years she had simply lost interest in anything other than surfing.
She went through the motions with her friends and when other social situations required it, and
the same was true with her sexual liaisons. She was simply responding to a natural bodily
function. The need for sexual release was very different from the need to be loved and cared
for. She would never allow that to happen again.

Elizabeth stopped in the middle of the room and turned to her, her face flushed and devoid of
emotion except for the desire flickering in her eyes. She tossed the card key, her towel, and
whatever else she had in her hands on the couch. Without taking her eyes off her, Elizabeth
peeled her top over her head and slid the bottom of her swimsuit to the floor. She stood there
waiting for her to make the next move.

Her pulse rocketed. Elizabeth was more beautiful than she imagined. She was trim with just
enough curves to be appealing to any man or lesbian. Her breasts were firm and exactly as
they should be for a woman her age, and she immediately remembered how they felt and
tasted. A tan line on her flat stomach separated it from the neatly trimmed curly hair below.

Colby couldn’t wait to have Elizabeth wrapped around her.

She dropped her own things and slowly crossed the room. Elizabeth didn’t move, and the sheer
boldness of her actions made Colby’s knees weak. Being with a woman who took charge of her
own needs and desires was exciting, and if she wasn’t careful she’d come at Elizabeth’s first
touch.

Her hand shook when she caressed Elizabeth’s cheek with the back of her fingers. She wanted
to explore every inch of the soft skin, warmed by desire and the sun. But she wanted to kiss
her even more.

Before she had a chance, Elizabeth spoke, a catch in her voice. “You have too many clothes
on.”

“Then take them off,” she countered, her own voice more than a little shaky.

Elizabeth quickly disposed of her tank top, but with almost agonizing slowness she trailed her
fingertips over every thread of Colby’s bikini top before slowly untying the two strings that held
it together. It landed on the same pile on the floor.

Elizabeth took her time removing her board shorts, which drove her crazy, but she didn’t reach
for Elizabeth or touch her in any way. She let Elizabeth take control, which was thrilling. She
was always the one in charge, the aggressor, the taker versus the taken, but not this time.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

Elizabeth licked her lips and Colby stepped closer, the tips of their breasts almost touching. The
heat from their bodies rose in waves, and her breathing matched the shallow in and out of
Elizabeth’s chest. She desperately wanted to touch her but held back. She was afraid all this
would go away, Elizabeth would go away if she did something wrong. For the first time in a
long time she wanted to do everything right.

Elizabeth cupped her hand behind Colby’s neck and pulled her down for a kiss. When their lips
met, an explosion shot through her and she had to fight the urge to take Elizabeth in her arms
and never let go. The sensation was more powerful than the first time they kissed. Then they
were two strangers, now they were more than that.

Elizabeth deepened the kiss and stepped into her, and she couldn’t hold back any longer. She
wrapped her arms around Elizabeth’s waist, pulling her closer, and reveled in the feel of her
naked skin. She didn’t know what aroused her more—Elizabeth’s kisses, the feel of her breasts
against hers, or the soft hair tickling her thigh. She didn’t try to figure it out, simply struggled to
maintain what little control she still had.

She explored the soft skin of Elizabeth’s back, and when she trailed her hands up her spine,
Elizabeth arched her back, her hard nipples pushing against Colby’s chest. When Elizabeth
moaned, Colby slid her thigh between hers.

Elizabeth practically climbed her leg, her wetness a mirror of what Colby knew was her own.
Dragging her mouth away, she slid her lips and tongue down Elizabeth’s neck. Her head
dropped in surrender, giving Colby complete access, and she sucked on the throbbing pulse
point. Elizabeth’s hands were in her hair, pulling and guiding as she ground against her leg.

“I can’t stand up much longer.” Elizabeth’s voice was choked with passion. “Take me to bed or

take me now.”

Her ears roared and her pulse skyrocketed with desire. Just those few words aroused her
almost to orgasm. She wanted to carry Elizabeth to bed and spend hours making love to her,
yet she wanted her right here, right now. She couldn’t make up her mind. Elizabeth decided for
her.

“Touch me,” she breathed into Colby’s hair. Not giving her a chance to respond, Elizabeth
grabbed her hand and guided it between her legs. Warm wetness filled her hand, Elizabeth’s
sigh of pleasure filled her ears. Elizabeth started to move and her clitoris hardened with each
stroke.

“God, yes,” Elizabeth said, wrapping her arms around Colby’s neck. Colby spread her legs,
distributing her weight more evenly to hold Elizabeth as she rode her fingers. She wanted to
feel Elizabeth under her, above her, inside her. She slid one finger, then two into her warm
center. Elizabeth’s arms tightened around her and she stopped breathing. Frightened, Colby
started to pull away.

“No,” Elizabeth emphatically replied, which was all Colby needed to hear. She began to stroke
Elizabeth’s clit with her thumb. Elizabeth stiffened, the flesh around her fingers pulsated, and
Elizabeth came in her hand. She held her as wave after wave of pleasure clearly shot through
the woman in her arms. She was on the verge of orgasm herself but focused on giving
Elizabeth as much pleasure as possible. When Elizabeth’s shudders subsided, she flicked her
thumb over Elizabeth’s hard clit again, causing another round of orgasms to spill from her. This
time she couldn’t hold back her own climax and her knees gave way. She and Elizabeth slid to
the floor, Colby on top, breathing heavily.

“Oh, my God.”

She could barely speak. Her breathing was too fast and she was light-headed. She raised
herself up on her arms, taking some of her weight off Elizabeth. “I’ll say.” The words were
barely out of her mouth when Elizabeth slid her fingers into her, then had her on her back with
her lips fastened to her breast. She climaxed again almost before she knew it was coming.

Elizabeth didn’t let up, and it was two hours before they got up off the floor and headed into the
bedroom. They ricocheted off the walls, their desire for each other overtaking them in the
middle of the hall. She lifted Elizabeth, and finally those legs that had tantalized her for days
wrapped around her. Hands and fingers and mouths were everywhere, and they shared several
more orgasms in the hall before they finally made it to Elizabeth’s bed.

Colby woke, at first not sure where she was. She had not woken in a place she wasn’t familiar
with in more than fifteen years. Elizabeth was asleep, curled against her, her hand on her
breast. Colby watched her nipple harden just by looking at Elizabeth’s hand against it. Her skin
was lighter there than anywhere else on her body, and the contrast between Elizabeth’s tanned
hand and her skin was as clear as the differences between them.

From what she knew of Elizabeth she had a successful career and a life she loved. Her future
was in front of her and she was making the most of it. Colby, on the other hand, was ashamed
of hers. Her old life, that is. How would Elizabeth react if she found out? Naturally she’d be

shocked. Anyone who knew what happened would be, and rightfully so. Next she would be
repulsed and disgusted because she had allowed someone who had done what she had to
touch her. She would shower with the strongest soap and the roughest brush to erase all
traces of Colby’s hands from her body. She would never forget Colby, but for all the wrong
reasons. And that’s why Colby never wanted her to find out.

This was exactly why very few people knew anything more about her than she wanted to
divulge. In the beginning, her dinner buddies had peppered her with the usual questions that
passed between burgeoning friends. She became a master at avoidance and small lies to cover
her tracks. She didn’t let anyone too close, having concluded that she couldn’t handle taking on
the emotional or physical responsibility for another human being. Unfortunately that realization
had come too late.

Elizabeth stirred, snuggling deeper in her arms. She wanted to wake her and rewind the last
few hours. Making love with Elizabeth had been unbelievable. Just thinking about the warmth of
her body, the softness of her skin, the tangy taste of her lips, she grew wet. Elizabeth must
have sensed something because she woke.

“Hey, there,” she said, sounding groggy.

“Hey, yourself.” Since Gretchen died she had not woken up with a woman regardless of whose
bed they were in. Typically it was the other woman’s, but she always left before it reached this
point. So why was she still here? And, more important, why was she not at all anxious to
leave?

“Have you been awake long?”

Elizabeth’s hand was moving in delicious circles on her stomach and she already had a hard
time concentrating on anything other than the growing throb between her legs. “No, not long.”

“I’m hungry,” Elizabeth murmured, raising herself on an elbow.

Her hair was tousled but her eyes clear, and she was the most beautiful woman Colby had ever
seen. The sprinkling of freckles on her nose gave her a youthful appearance. She asked about
them.

“I usually cover them up. Something about a college president with freckles that loses the
desired punch.”

“The sun is bringing them out. I like them,” she said honestly. Elizabeth’s hand stopped moving
and she was disappointed.

“Really?” Elizabeth asked as a mischievous smile started at the e.g. of her very kissable lips.

“Yes, I do. You look like you’re twelve.”

Elizabeth rolled on top of her, her mouth inches away, and began grinding her pelvis into her
with slow, seductive moves. “Do I feel like I’m twelve?” Elizabeth asked, separating each word
with a searing kiss.

She immediately forgot the question as the pounding in her crotch intensified. Her hands
instinctively went to Elizabeth’s waist, and when Elizabeth slid her tongue into her mouth, she
climaxed. Not expecting the wave, she grabbed Elizabeth’s ass and held her while the spasms

ran their course. She had never come so fast from so little. Her head spun, her mind pure
mush.

When she opened her eyes, Elizabeth was gazing down at her while straddling her hips, wet
and so aroused she could smell her. It wasn’t long before Elizabeth was rocking back and forth,
spreading her juices on Colby’s stomach. Putting a hand on either side of Colby’s head, she
bent forward just enough for her to catch a swaying breast in her mouth.

“God, that feels good,” Elizabeth whispered. She moaned her pleasure a few times and
tightened her legs around her. Colby lightly bit the hard nipple in her mouth.

“Yes, uhh, just like that.” Elizabeth dropped her head, soft blond hair tickling Colby’s face.

The stronger she sucked, the harder Elizabeth rocked against her. She slid her fingers inside
Elizabeth, rewarded with another shudder of pleasure and a hoarse command to go deeper.
She wanted to please Elizabeth like she had never been pleased before. She wanted her to
experience the same thrill and power of orgasm as she had every time they came together. It
mattered to her. For the first time in a long, long time, it mattered.

Elizabeth said her name in gasping breaths as she quickened her pace, Colby keeping up with
each move. Finally she stiffened and, with one last cry, came hard. Colby watched Elizabeth
become even more beautiful as orgasm overtook her. She felt every beat of Elizabeth’s heart in
the fingers buried deep inside her. The changes in Elizabeth’s face mesmerized her. She had
seen the mask of concentration transforming into the glow of release several times before and
knew she would never grow tired of seeing this woman come in her arms. It frightened her that
she wouldn’t have the chance.

Elizabeth collapsed on Colby, unable to stay upright any longer. She was breathing way too
fast and her head was foggy, but she was aware when Colby slowly removed her fingers.
Colby was a fabulous lover, sensing when she needed it fast and hard, and when soft and
gentle was the only way to orgasm. They had explored each other’s bodies for hours, and she
knew every freckle and scar on the woman holding her.

“Jesus. I don’t know what to say. I’ve never…” she mumbled into Colby’s warm neck.

“What would you like to say?” came the equally breathless voice. Colby’s heart beat rapidly
under hers.

“That was absolutely awesome. My God, you’re good.” Good was hardly an adequate
adjective to describe Colby’s lovemaking, but it was all she could come up with at the moment.

Colby chuckled. “You did all the work.”

At this comment, Elizabeth lifted her head. Colby smiled, brushing her hair back from her face,
and she felt herself blush. She hadn’t been shy in bed, or on the floor, or anywhere else, for
that matter, but for some reason this time taking what she wanted slightly embarrassed her. It
made absolutely no sense. They had sucked and fucked for hours and in more creative ways
than this, but this time it had felt different. Colby had felt different, had touched her differently.

“I guess I did, huh?” she replied, trying to lighten her mood. This was a summer fling and she
could not, would not, let herself get swept away in it. In a few weeks she would be back on her
own turf, and Colby would move on as well. There was nothing between them but a few good

memories. There couldn’t be.

“Feel free to use me like that anytime. I’m here at your service,” Colby said wickedly, a sly
smile spreading across her face.

She was breathtaking when she smiled, Elizabeth thought. She hadn’t seen her do that much
and she liked it, very much. It made her stomach tingle and her toes curl.

“Is that so?” Colby’s dark eyes grew darker as Elizabeth repeated her movements from a few
moments ago. “You liked it?” Colby’s mouth opened but nothing immediately came out. She
nodded instead.

Elizabeth moved again. “Did you like this?” Again Colby nodded and her eyes began to glaze
over. She was still on top but wanted Colby as Colby had had her. With little effort she
switched their positions and felt the familiar weight of Colby’s body on hers. She wasn’t heavy,
she just felt right. Smoldering eyes hovered above her as Colby began her own self-satisfying
movements.

This time, Elizabeth mimicked exactly what Colby had done to her earlier. The feel of her
warmth on her hand and tightening around her fingers was overwhelming. She was giving this
spectacular woman pleasure, and it was as simple as that.

She wanted to prolong her own enjoyment of watching Colby. Her breasts heaved and her
graceful back arched, giving Elizabeth unimpeded access to her clit. She couldn’t resist when
Colby whispered, “Please, now.” She was aware that Colby needed to climax and ran her
thumb over the exact place she needed. A quick flick, a little pressure, and Colby exploded and
collapsed on her.

Colby might be having the orgasm, but stars were shooting in Elizabeth’s head as well. Her
heart pulsed with something she didn’t recognize, and she had an overwhelming need to gather
Colby to her and never let her go. She gave in to the first part and ignored the second.

“Didn’t you say something about being hungry? About three hours ago?” Colby asked. She was
zipping her shorts, her hair still damp from the shower. It would have been two hours ago if
Elizabeth hadn’t slipped in behind her in the streaming hot water.

“Yes. We missed dinner.” Elizabeth buckled the strap on her sandal and looked across the
room at her. Her face was glowing, even with the lack of any substantial sleep the night before.
She had that just-fucked look, and Colby wanted to take her back to bed.

“Not that you need to, but what a great way to lose weight.” She raised her eyebrows several
times and winked.

Elizabeth stood in front of the full-length mirror. “Don’t start or we’ll miss breakfast too,” she
warned, but not with any conviction.

She couldn’t help but smile, but inside she was troubled. Like waking in Elizabeth’s bed. She
couldn’t remember the last time she had a morning-after conversation. However, though she
wasn’t usually good at small talk, with Elizabeth she was downright chatty. After making love
they had talked about politics, baseball, and the recent earthquake that had devastated Haiti.
Elizabeth told amusing stories about her family, to whom she was clearly close.

Colby suddenly realized how much she missed her family. She used to talk to her sisters at
least once a week, her mother filling in anything she might have missed. She hadn’t spoken to
them in years and even though she had her monthly call with her mother, it seemed like forever
since she’d seen her smile. Elizabeth touched her shoulder.

“Colby, are you all right?”

Concern filled Elizabeth’s green eyes and she almost said no, she wasn’t. She was suddenly
very lonely and tired of shouldering her burden alone. Like she had for the past three years she
simply said, “Yep, I’m great. Now how about some breakfast?”

Chapter Eleven

The next few weeks flew by. Colby insisted on being Elizabeth’s personal tour guide and
entertainment director. They rode bicycles down from Haleakala, went snorkeling off the coast
of Molokai, and window-shopped in Lahaina. The more Elizabeth thought about it, the easier it
was to agree to whatever Colby suggested. She knew what was at the end of the path she
was heading down, but instead of running away she was speeding forward, ignoring every
warning sign.

One evening they simply walked the shoreline. As the water lapped around their ankles, Colby
peppered her with questions about her childhood, her family, and her life in San Diego. When
she described the freshman prank she fell for her first night in the dormitory at Columbia and
other childhood stories, Colby laughed and poked fun at her. She liked Colby’s laugh—the way
her eyes sparkled and the dimples in her cheeks deepened.

On their way back to her hotel they approached the cluster of trees where they’d had their first
interlude. Her heartbeat quickened and she slowed their pace.

“You know, I’ve never gone with a woman as easily as I did with you that night.” She nodded in
the direction of the trees.

It didn’t take Colby more than a second to follow the conversation. “Really?”

“Yes, really. You must have been proud of yourself.” She softened her statement with a smile.
She didn’t intend for it to come out sounding as tacky as it did.

Colby didn’t appear to be offended. “Pride had nothing to do with it.”

She felt the sharp pull of Colby’s eyes boring into her, daring her to divulge her innermost
secrets. Desire flooded her. “Then what did?”

Colby closed the distance between them, never taking her dark eyes off her. She felt her warm
breath on her face just before Colby kissed her. “I felt you when I was in the water. I was
drawn to you. I just had to have you. I had to touch you, feel you, taste you.” Colby
accentuated each statement with a gentle yet searing kiss.

Tired of fighting her better judgment, Elizabeth led Colby into the familiar darkness and she was
the aggressor. Her hands were quick under Colby’s T-shirt, traveling over not-quite-bare flesh.
Impatient, she clawed at the obstructing fabric as she ravished Colby’s hot mouth. Tongues
danced, dueled, and tangled until Colby pulled back, gasping for air, her eyes bright with

desire. Elizabeth pinched her hard nipples, and Colby’s eyes clouded over with passion.

Slowly she licked her way down Colby’s neck, tossing her top onto the ground. She kneaded
Colby’s breasts, paying special attention to the tight nipples until finally her mouth was on them.
She felt Colby’s knees buckle and slid her thigh between them to hold her upright. As much as
she wanted to lay Colby down on the soft sand and explore every inch of her hard, vibrating
body, the need to have her, right there, right now, just like this overwhelmed her.

Too eager to wait, she dropped to her knees, jerked Colby’s shorts to her ankles, and made
short work of the tight briefs underneath. She hardly had a chance to savor the sweet aroma of
Colby’s arousal before she plunged her tongue into Colby’s warm flesh. The throbbing of her
blood in her head muffled the sound of Colby’s moan. Colby had twisted her hands in her hair,
urgent and trembling, and Elizabeth slid two fingers into her warm, wet center. In seconds,
Colby exploded.

Pulse after pulse Colby emptied herself into Elizabeth’s mouth, coating her face. Colby had
barely finished one orgasm before she found Colby’s clitoris again and sucked greedily, making
her come a second, then a third time.

In no way had she ever acted so wanton, so thoroughly overcome with desire that all thoughts
of propriety and decency fled. Her common sense had disappeared and she wouldn’t stop even
if they had an audience like before.

“Enough. Please, Elizabeth. Enough.” Colby shuddered, hearing her own ragged voice but
barely recognizing it. No one had ever taken her so quickly and with such abandon as Elizabeth
just had. Not only was her body spent but her soul felt invaded, though in a good way. Her
limbs were weak as noodles yet she wanted to touch Elizabeth, needed to please her as she
had just been pleased. Yet she wasn’t sure she had the strength, and she certainly had no idea
how she would be able to walk back to her truck.

Colby pulled Elizabeth into her arms and drew a ragged breath. “If that’s what it would’ve been
like that first night, I would have picked up where we left off when those boys left.”

“Why didn’t you?”

At this moment Colby was asking herself the same question and didn’t have an answer.
Actually, she did, but she wouldn’t tell Elizabeth because it made absolutely no sense. One
minute she couldn’t keep her hands off her, the next she thought the way they were practically
fucking was torrid and cheap and Elizabeth deserved better. She wasn’t sure she even wanted
to admit it to herself.

Before she had a chance to answer, Elizabeth started rubbing herself on Colby’s thigh. “It
doesn’t matter because you’re here now and I want you just like this.” She tightened her grip
around Elizabeth’s waist and whispered encouragement in her ear. “That’s it. Take what you
want,” she said. Elizabeth quickened her pace and Colby’s clit hardened again. “God, you feel
good. Your clit, on my leg, it’s hard.”

“Touch me.” Elizabeth’s voice was barely a whisper.

Colby didn’t have to be told twice. As soon as she slid her hand between Elizabeth’s legs,
Elizabeth shuddered. Colby didn’t move. Elizabeth took what she needed and, in less than a

minute, came on Colby’s fingers. Before Elizabeth had a chance to catch her breath, Colby
slipped deep inside. Elizabeth cried out and came again.

When she wasn’t with Colby, Elizabeth was busy researching for her book and even managed
to write a few thousand words every day. The manuscript still needed at least another thirty
thousand words and was due to her publisher in October. As much as she hated to, she forced
herself to stay away from the beach. The last time she was there she got a raging sunburn
because she lost track of time. She had been so absorbed in watching Colby she forgot to
apply and reapply her sunscreen. Colby couldn’t touch her for three days. It was agony for both
of them, but Colby insisted she stay just in case Elizabeth needed something.

Last night, however, Elizabeth had recovered enough from her sunburn to accompany Colby
into Lahaina. Front Street was already bristling with tired shoppers and the early dinner crowd,
and Colby was forced to park at the south end of the busy street.

They strolled by the shops lining both sides until she pulled Colby into one particular one. It had
caught her attention and her curiosity the first time she saw it, and with Colby next to her, she
felt bold enough to venture inside the Painted Lady.

When the door closed behind her, she realized its name was appropriate. Three women were
sitting in barber chairs with their back, leg, and, in one case, ass being tattooed.

“Have you ever thought about getting one of these?” she asked over the buzz of the electric
needles. She was positive Colby didn’t have one.

“Not really. Have you?”

Elizabeth looked at the walls covered with examples of various designs, lettering, and the
obligatory Mother tattoos. Another woman entered and started thumbing through one of the
books on the front counter. “I’ve never thought about it. I don’t have anything against them. I’ve
seen some beautiful ones and some downright ugly ones, but I guess body art is just that, art.”

“That’s one way to put it, I suppose.” Colby pressed up behind her and looked over her
shoulder. Colby’s warm breath on her neck made her lose all interest in the book in front of her,
especially when Colby reached around her to touch the laminated page. “That one’s
interesting,” she said, pointing to a drawing of two turtles swimming in a coral reef. Colby
smelled like salt and sea and the scent she had learned was only Colby’s. It had just been three
days, but it felt like weeks since they had touched.

Colby must have felt it too because the nipples pressed against her back were hard. Her knees
began to shake and the blood pounded in her ears.

“Unless you’re prepared for me to take you right here, in front of all these people, I’d suggest
you step back an inch or two.” She hoped Colby would pay attention to her warning because
she was quickly losing control.

“Only if you promise to do just that when we get back to your place.” Colby ended her
statement by outlining the rim of her ear with her tongue, and she grabbed the end of the
counter for support. When Colby didn’t move, she turned around, the lower half of their bodies
touching.

“Cross my heart,” she said, tracing the pattern she’d just verbalized across Colby’s chest.
Desire flared in Colby’s eyes when Elizabeth stroked her breast. Her stomach leaped and her
panties became drenched.

“Let’s get out of here,” Colby said through clenched teeth. “I’m starving.”

She seemed to mean more than just hunger for food.

From the minute they left the shop Elizabeth could hardly keep her hands off Colby. She
managed to restrain herself until they got into Colby’s truck, but when the locks engaged, she
did too. By the time they got back to her villa they were both a stroke away from climax and
literally ran down the hall to her door. She slid the card key into the lock while Colby awkwardly
unbuttoned her shirt from behind.

They threw their clothes in all directions, and she didn’t wait for Colby to be naked before she
plunged her fingers into her. She had Colby pressed against the counter, one foot on the bar
stool, giving her unimpeded access to Colby’s warm, very wet center. It took only one bite on
Colby’s neck and three strokes for her to come. She held her so tight when her orgasm hit,
Elizabeth could hardly breathe. Pulse after pulse squeezed her fingers while Colby’s arms
tightened around her neck. Colby gave no sign of letting go, and she didn’t want her to.

Chapter Twelve

Colby thought she would never be on the water like this again. It was always too painful, a
reminder of her former life, the one she vowed never to return to. But she wanted to show
Elizabeth the joy of sailing, and what better way than on a forty-foot Lagoon catamaran. She
eased into the slip at the Front Street Pier. Elizabeth hadn’t arrived yet, giving her time to
secure the boat and make sure everything was in order.

She had called ahead to the number she still knew by heart, and the boat was prepped,
stocked, and ready for her when she’d arrived earlier that morning. As she stepped on the
deck, a wave of nostalgia flooded her, causing her to lose her footing and stumble. She banged
her knee and scraped her palm.

After checking the main cabin for at least the third time she stepped through the salon and out
to the cockpit. Elizabeth was standing on the dock, gaping.

“This is what we’re going out on?” She pointed to the gleaming white boat.

“Yes, it is,” Colby replied, enjoying Elizabeth’s look of shock. Her body tingled because she
hadn’t seen Elizabeth yesterday.

“You said it was just a little sailboat. Holy Christ, Colby, this is practically the Queen Mary.”

Colby couldn’t help but laugh at Elizabeth’s cute, yet exaggerated description of the boat. “I
don’t think I used the word little.”

“Oh, yes, you did. I distinctly remember you saying it was just a little something to sail around
the island.” Elizabeth had her hands on her hips and was shaking her head.

“Okay, maybe I slightly understated.” Colby stopped at Elizabeth’s expression that clearly said
she didn’t believe a word of what she was saying. “Anyway, you know what they say,

Elizabeth, size doesn’t matter. It’s what you do with what you have that separates the novice
from the pros.” Colby could see that she was still skeptical. “Ah, come on. Let’s have some
fun.” Colby was starting to worry that her plans for the day were sinking.

“Is there anything else you’ve neglected to tell me?”

Colby hesitated. That was a loaded question with a powder-keg answer. But this wasn’t the
time and it never would be. She wanted to enjoy the day with Elizabeth without the ugly past
haunting it.

“Nothing you won’t find out if you don’t join me.”

Elizabeth looked at the boat from stem to stern, then port to starboard. Finally she appeared to
make a decision. She saluted. “Ahoy, Captain, permission to come aboard?”

“Just how big is this thing?” Elizabeth asked as Colby showed her around. She couldn’t miss
Colby’s sense of pride as she touched everything, explaining how things worked and their
nautical name.

The day was glorious, and she had missed Colby beside her last night. It was the first night in a
week they hadn’t spent together. They had fallen into a routine that was far too comfortable for
Elizabeth.

Her bed had felt enormous and very, very empty. She was awake more than she slept. Her
brain wouldn’t shut down. She was stuck in a cadence of I-want-her-next-to-me, followed by
it’s-good-to-be-apart-because-I’m-leaving-soon. Back and forth all night, and she was still no
closer to deciding which side of the debate she favored.

“Forty feet, six inches. To be exact,” Colby said. As they walked she spoke like a proud parent.
“She has two twenty-seven horsepower Mercury motors and can hold over a hundred gallons
of fuel and a hundred and eighty-eight gallons of fresh water. The main sail is five hundred and
seventy square feet, and it has four double berths and four heads. Uh, bedrooms and
bathrooms.”

Elizabeth looked around the dock, which was full of activity on other boats. Obvious tourists
boarding for a day of snorkeling, and a group of men in their twenties scrambling aboard the
fishing boat moored next to them. But apparently none of them planned to spend the day alone
with a gorgeous half-naked woman. “And we’re taking this out on the water?”

“Yep.”

“You and who else?”

Colby laughed. “Nobody.”

Elizabeth sensed there was more to this boat than Colby was telling. When she had asked her
to go sailing, Colby had said she could get a catamaran and they could sail, snorkel, and
sunbathe all day if they wanted to. Elizabeth had no i.e. this was what she was talking about.
This boat was fabulous. But where did it come from? Maybe a friend was letting her borrow it.
Elizabeth studied the plush furnishings in the cabin. She wished she had friends like that.

Colby immediately put her to work, giving her directions and pointing when Elizabeth had no
idea what she was talking about. Throughout the morning Colby taught her the ins and outs of
sailing with equal patience as she had with her surfing lessons. She’d make a good teacher,
Elizabeth thought on more than one occasion. She connected, was thorough without overkill and
brief without missing anything important.

They had just finished making love and Colby was leaning against the cabin wall, Elizabeth’s
head in her lap. They were lying on a wide cushion Colby had placed on the deck, the sail
keeping the sun from shining in her eyes.

“A zip line?”

“Yeah. Have you ever been on one?”

Elizabeth couldn’t miss Colby’s excitement. She shook her head. “No, and I’m not sure I want
to.”

“We already know you’re not afraid of heights, so what’s the problem?” Colby asked point-
blank. She took three long gulps from her bottle of water.

“Uh, just the i.e. of jumping off a perfectly good mountain.” Her stomach tickled when Colby
laughed. “What?”

“It’s not like that. You’re strapped into a harness and it’s completely safe.”

“A woman I dated once tried to convince me of that. It didn’t work that time either.”

Colby looked down at her, her blistering black eyes glinting with mischief. “Really?”

“Forget it,” Elizabeth said quickly, to cancel any thoughts Colby might have of that fantasy
coming true.

“Don’t tell me you’re not the adventurous type?” The question sounded like a challenge.

Elizabeth studied Colby. She was tall, extremely good-looking, physically fit was an
understatement, and had a wonderful sense of humor. Oh, and made her forget about
everything with her kisses. But she’d never forget her. For the second time Colby had thrown
down the gauntlet. The first time Elizabeth picked it up was thrilling. The second would
undoubtedly be even more so.

“I think we’ve already established that.” Elizabeth sat up and slid very close to Colby. Her arm
grazed Colby’s bare breast and she sensed Colby’s sharp intake of breath.

“Yes, we have,” Colby murmured, but not so quietly that Elizabeth didn’t hear it. After a few
moments Colby asked, “How about tomorrow?” The sun was close to the horizon; the last
streaks of daylight soon would be fading in the western sky. They would be heading back
shortly, and Elizabeth didn’t want the day to end.

“You want me to jump off a perfectly good mountain with you?” Elizabeth asked, looking at
Colby’s mouth, not her eyes. It was so close all she had to do was move just a little and she
would be able to taste those lips again. Her pulse hammered in her brain.

“I’ll catch you.” Colby’s voice was soft and low.

Elizabeth was mesmerized by the movement of her lips. She wanted to kiss her, wanted to feel

the gentle strength of her arms again. When did this conversation take a metaphorical shift?
“I’m heavier than I look.” Elizabeth’s words were nonsense.

“I know exactly how heavy you are,” Colby said, and grinned lasciviously. Elizabeth felt herself
blush, her mind flashing on how often Colby had been beneath her in the last few weeks.

Colby smiled, her dimples deep and charming. “So what do you say? I can probably get us a
reservation for the afternoon drop tomorrow.”

Elizabeth’s guts were still churning from the intensity of being this close to Colby yet again. The
woman was overpowering in a nonthreatening way. She attracted Elizabeth like metal to a
magnet, and right now she wanted to be all over her.

“All right, but not tomorrow.” She had to begin to separate herself from Colby for her own
sake.

“The day after? Ten thirty in the lobby?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“Great. You won’t be disappointed.” Colby was looking directly at her lips, eyes dark with
desire and innuendo.

Elizabeth played along. “Don’t promise something you can’t deliver, surfer girl.”

“I never do.” Colby neared for a kiss.

When their lips met, a spark shot through Elizabeth and she couldn’t believe she wanted Colby
again. She had barely caught her breath, but her body was signaling that she was ready for
more, much more. So much for creating a little distance.

So this is what it’s like to be completely driven by desire. Elizabeth wanted to crawl on top of,
under, and inside this exciting woman. She wanted to touch Colby, caress her, taste her body
and her soul. She wanted to dissolve into oblivion with Colby again.

Taking the initiative this time, Elizabeth climbed into Colby’s lap, which didn’t seem to upset her
at all. In fact, Elizabeth thought she saw Colby smile before covering her lips.

She feasted on Colby’s lips before exploring her mouth with equal attention. God, Colby could
kiss, and more than once Elizabeth came from doing just that. Colby’s kisses weren’t too wet or
sloppy, even in the heat of the moment. She moved down her neck, paying particular attention
to the spot just below Colby’s right ear, the place that made her tremble.

Elizabeth kept her hands busy as well. With one she cupped a breast, making lazy swipes
across a hard nipple with her thumb. With the other she alternately pinched and massaged
Colby’s other breast. Colby pulled her hips down as she thrust hers upward, Elizabeth sliding
easily over Colby’s hard stomach.

When Colby broke the kiss and took one of her breasts into her mouth, Elizabeth stopped her.
With her thumb under Colby’s chin she lifted it until she was looking directly into smoldering
eyes. “No, this is for you.”

“But I—”

“But nothing.” Elizabeth shifted them both down onto the cushion, kissing Colby again. Between

kisses she said, “You’ve taken me to places I’ve never imagined. It’s your turn. I intend to put
my lips and tongue everywhere. My hands and fingers will explore you, my body will sing to
you. I’ll touch you like you’ve never been touched before.” Elizabeth accentuated her final words
and did exactly as she promised, the setting sun caressing her bare back.

Chapter Thirteen

Colby thought the hands on the clock would never move. She hadn’t seen Elizabeth at all
yesterday, even though she spent more time watching the beach than her students. She lost
her focus more than once and got whacked in the face with a runaway board due to her
inattentiveness. The shiner got more colorful as the swelling increased.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had picked up a woman for a real date. Was this a
date? It wasn’t any different from the other things they’d done together, but it just felt like a
date. Had the rules changed? She suspected some things never did, and her parents had
taught her to be on time. If she didn’t hurry she would fail miserably.

With one minute to spare she rolled to a stop adjacent to the two large sliding doors at the front
entrance. The valet jogged to her truck but she was out before he had a chance to open her
door. “I’m just picking somebody up,” she said, glancing around the area. She didn’t see
Elizabeth anywhere and started to walk inside when the doors slid open silently and she walked
out.

Colby’s heart stuttered. Elizabeth was wearing blistering white tennis shoes, navy shorts, and a
red polo shirt with horizontal blue stripes. A pair of sunglasses on top of her head kept her hair
off her face.

“Right on time. My God, what happened to your eye?”

Colby opened the passenger door. “It’s nothing. My father taught me never to leave a woman
waiting. Especially a beautiful one,” she added truthfully, and hustled around the back of the
truck to her own door. Once she was inside and buckled up she told Elizabeth the story of the
board connecting with her face, skimming over why she wasn’t paying attention.

“Ouch, that must hurt,” Elizabeth said as Colby shifted into first gear. “Where are we going? I
mean I know where we’re going, but exactly where are we going?”

“Just down the road a little way to a group called Skyline Experience. We have an eleven-thirty
departure.”

“Departure?” Elizabeth asked.

“We all pile into vans and drive about half an hour to the site. We gear up, have a quick safety
session, and then we’re off.”

“I see.” Elizabeth clenched her fists in her lap.

Colby shifted again and grasped them. They were freezing. “Are you nervous?”

“A little. I’ve never done this but I’m being brave.”

She didn’t sound convincing. She was pale and her hands were clammy as well as cold.

Colby considered canceling her plans. If she was this afraid, what fun would it be? She wanted
Elizabeth to enjoy herself, to share another discovery with her. Colby frowned. When did she
go from good-time Colby to this?

“Really, I’m fine. Just some first-time jitters.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about. It’s perfectly safe. The structures and all the gear are
inspected four times a year, and Skyline is the longest-operating zip line on the island. Their
staff is well trained and they take safety very seriously.”

“How do you know so much about it?”

“A friend of mine works there.” Colby didn’t elaborate that Sherri, another of her dinner-of-the-
week friends, owned the company. Elizabeth would find out soon enough. Colby was second-
guessing her decision to take Elizabeth anyplace where her friends would see her. In her three
years Colby had never accompanied a woman anywhere, especially where her friends would
ask questions later. And, boy, would there be plenty of them next week. She was sure of that.
What in the hell was she thinking? She knew Sherri was working today. When she called for the
reservation she had spoken to her and was barely able to get off the line before the
interrogation began. She hoped Sherri would show some semblance of professionalism this
afternoon.

Sherri greeted her by name when Colby walked in. The shop was part office, part store, selling
the obligatory T-shirts, glasses, and hats. She saw Sherri give Elizabeth the once-over.

“Breaker, you didn’t say she was beautiful. Hello, I’m Sherri Sonet, owner of this little endeavor.
You must be Elizabeth,” Sherri said, practically all in one breath. She stuck out her hand.

“Yes, I am.” Elizabeth looked at her questioningly. “Why do you call her Breaker?” she asked
as she shook Sherri’s hand.

Sherri looked back and forth from Elizabeth to her before a sly smile filled the lower half of her
face. When she winked at Elizabeth, Colby knew she was in trouble. And why did I bring her
here?

“You stick with me, Elizabeth, and I’ll tell you things Breaker doesn’t want anyone to know.”

Colby’s heart jumped. So this was what panic felt like. “Sherri, we came to ride the lines, not
listen to gossip,” Colby said, trying to terminate the line of conversation. She was unsuccessful.

“I’d love it.” Elizabeth shared a conspiratorial grin with Sherri.

The bell above the door rang as two other couples came in, taking Sherri’s attention away from
them. Colby sighed in relief.

“Breaker?” Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and the
look on her face told Colby she wouldn’t budge until she got an answer. “Come on. Out with it.”

“Surfers have nicknames,” Colby said. “Mine just happens to be Breaker. You know, for the
breaking of the waves.” Colby hoped her explanation was adequate. It wasn’t. Elizabeth gave
her a hip bump.

“You mean like Hot Shot and Moondoggie?” Elizabeth mentioned the only two surfer names she
remembered from the Gidget movies in the late fifties. She’d figured that’s what it was all about

when she heard it the first time. What was it, only a little more than a month ago?

Sherri began the briefing and had everyone read and sign the necessary waivers. Before long
they were in the van headed for the mountain.

The beauty of the area astounded Elizabeth. She sat in the window seat in the row behind
Sherri, who was driving with Colby on her right. The higher the old van climbed, the rougher the
road and the thicker the brush. Colby had told her that since they were on the Kaanapali side of
the island, the terrain was more scrub brush than rainforest. That was on the opposite side and
on the road to Hana.

After a fifteen-minute ride, they all piled out of the van and sat on benches under a wooden
canopy. Sherri and two other guides disappeared into a small room and one by one came out
carrying an assortment of helmets, harnesses, and water bottles. Elizabeth was still just a little
nervous, her stomach settling some after they watched the required ten-minute video before
they left the shop.

“Don’t worry. Sherri won’t let anything happen to us,” Colby said, as if she could read her mind.
“Either she or one of the guys goes down the line first. It’s a blast, trust me.”

Sherri began the safety instruction. Soon they were all wearing goofy white helmets and
trussed up in a harness that would make any dyke proud and any femme petrified.

Elizabeth followed Colby up the trail to the first platform. After a few more instructions Guy, one
of the other guides, hooked his pulley to the line and jumped. Everyone, including Elizabeth,
watched him sail effortlessly across the canyon.

“Okay, who’s first?” Sherri asked.

A married couple from Idaho stepped forward. Elizabeth laughed when the husband let his
bride go first. “Chivalry or coward?” she asked Colby quietly and was rewarded with a jab in
the side. As Sherri gave the woman final instructions Elizabeth looked around the platform.

The cable was secured to what looked like a large wooden telephone pole. She knew nothing
about engineering, safety, or anything remotely like what would carry her fifty feet off the
ground for a hundred yards, but it looked safe enough. She had to trust Sherri and Colby, two
women she knew very little about.

“Elizabeth? You ready?” Sherri asked.

Elizabeth gulped and tried not to show how scared shitless she was again now that the canyon
she was supposed to slide over was right in front of her. “Yep.” Her legs shook as she walked
toward Sherri. How had Colby persuaded her to do this? She wasn’t normally a risk taker, but
the confidence in Colby’s eyes when they talked about it on the boat had chipped away at her
doubt. What would she chip away at next? As Sherri gave her instructions Elizabeth
concentrated on every word. This wasn’t the time to zone out on a conversation.

“Okay, just step off anytime you’re ready. Guy will catch you on the other end.”

Elizabeth looked at Colby, who was smiling encouragingly at her. Colby didn’t appear to be
nervous in the least, which made her feel better. With one last look over her shoulder, she
stepped off the solid platform into air.

The harness around her butt fully supported her weight, letting her legs dangle free. The rush of
air on her face would have been refreshing if she hadn’t been too scared to enjoy it. The whine
of the pulley across the metal cable was the only sound except for her accelerated breathing.

Before she knew it, Elizabeth approached the landing platform. Guy was shouting
encouragement and somehow she ended up on her feet and not her butt, as she expected. Guy
unhooked her pulley from the cable and gave her a pat on her helmet. Her legs were still a little
unsteady, but that was due to excitement this time, not fear. She walked to where the other
zippers were waiting and turned around in time to see Colby jump off the platform.

Colby was practically flying across the canyon. Even from this distance, Elizabeth could tell she
was enjoying herself. She was smiling and looking in every direction, not at her hands on the
pulley straps like everyone else had. She nailed the landing like a bird coming in from flight.

“What did you think?” Colby asked before Guy had her completely unhooked.

“It was great,” Elizabeth admitted, finally relaxing. Now that she had done it once, she knew
what to expect and would thoroughly enjoy the remaining seven lines. It was an absolute blast.
The ride had been short, but less than halfway across she realized it was fun. Colby was right.
It struck her how often this was the case.

“I knew you’d like it. Wait till we get to the last one. It’s the longest and absolutely takes your
breath away.”

Colby was more animated than she had ever seen her. Her cheeks were flushed and her smile
filled her entire face. Actually, your smile is what takes my breath away, she thought.

As Colby watched the remaining zippers cross the canyon, Elizabeth watched her. The harness
around her waist emphasized her tight ass and had made her shorts creep higher on her firm,
tan thighs. A tan line enticed Elizabeth to keep looking every chance she had.

On the last line of the day, the groom was ten feet from the landing platform when he got
turned around and landed hard. Elizabeth heard a snap followed by a scream before he
collapsed in a heap in front of her. Blood seeped out of his mouth. Someone cried out,
somebody else swore, and the man’s wife fainted.

Before she could move, Colby came in fast on the line. She unhooked herself and knelt over the
now-unconscious man. “I need something to stop the bleeding. Shirts, anything,” she said
calmly. Several of the other men stripped theirs off and passed them to her. She pressed on
the wound, barely stanching the flood of blood.

Seconds later Sherri arrived. “What happened?” she asked no one in particular.

The other guide answered. “He caught his toe on the edge and went face-first before I could
grab him. He went down hard.” His voice was shaky.

Elizabeth had never seen so much blood. It was deep red and streaming down the man’s
cheeks and neck, pooling under his head.

“Shit, some of his teeth are gone. Get somebody up here now,” Colby shouted to Sherri, who
immediately opened her cell phone.

Elizabeth heard her say something about a helicopter and emergency before turning her

attention back to Colby. Blood coated her hands and wrists and had splattered on her arms
and legs. Elizabeth felt woozy but pulled it together. “What can I do?” she asked, hoping Colby
wouldn’t ask her to actually do anything.

“Hold this. Just apply as much pressure as you can,” she commanded, indicating that she
wanted Elizabeth to hold the shirt over the gash in the man’s face. His breathing became more
ragged and Colby moved closer and listened. She lifted his shirt and watched him breathe.
“Shit.” She looked around frantically, reaching into the pocket of her shorts and pulling out a
small pocket knife. “I need something hollow like a straw or a pen.”

“How about this?” the guide asked, pulling a long, hard plastic straw from his water bottle.

Colby frowned. “Shit. It’ll have to do. Get it as clean as you can,” she barked. Directly in front
of her Elizabeth watched as Colby doused the side of the man’s chest with the water from her
bottle, then did the same to her hands until the supply ran out.

“Here,” Elizabeth said, instinctively pouring her water over Colby’s hands.

“Thanks. Now hand me the straw when I ask for it.”

Colby’s head was low, but Elizabeth could still see a mask of concentration on her face. Colby
felt around on the man’s side, adjacent to his nipple, as if she were counting ribs. When she
located what she was looking for, she directed the small knife in that direction.

“What are you doing?” someone shouted behind her.

“He’s either got a pneumothorax or his chest is filling with blood. I have to release it or he’ll die.”

Elizabeth watched, stunned, as Colby deftly inserted the knife. Then, a few seconds later, her
fingers followed the straw into the man’s side. Blood slid out of it onto the ground. The man
was still unconscious, but the awful gurgling sound he had been making quieted, and his chest
rose and fell with deep breaths.

“I need some string, rope, a couple of shoelaces, anything I can use to tie this in place.”
Several shoelaces were quickly handed to her and she deftly tied them together, then around
the straw protruding from the man’s side, and finally around his chest. She had barely finished
when the rumble of a helicopter sounded.

Within minutes it landed and two flight nurses rushed to the platform. Elizabeth could hardly
make out what Colby was telling the crew, but she heard words like chest tube, thoracotomy,
and hemorrhaging. She had some idea what they meant, but it was obvious that Colby definitely
knew what she was talking about.

Ten minutes later the helicopter, injured man, and his wife were gone, leaving Colby, Elizabeth,
and the rest of the group staring at it as it disappeared into the clear blue sky.

Sherri finally broke the silence. “Okay, everybody, let’s get back.”

No one said a word as they hiked the half mile back to the staging area. Colby walked beside
her, not making eye contact. She was a little pale and Elizabeth needed to talk to her, hold her
hand, anything to reestablish their connection. But something about Colby warned her not to.

Silently they unbuckled their harnesses, removed their helmets, and took their previous seats in
the van. As Sherri drove back down the mountain, the only sound was the creaking of the van

on the rough road. Elizabeth looked at Colby sitting in the seat in front of her. Her jaw was
clenched and she stared straight ahead. She looked scared, and not because of what had just
happened. The way she had handled herself and the situation around her told Elizabeth this
wasn’t the first time Colby had made a life-and-death decision. She wasn’t sure she wanted to
find out when those other times were.

“Where did you learn how to do that?”

Colby looked at Elizabeth, then quickly away. What had she done? “Just some basic first aid I
picked up,” she said evasively. She was surprised that Elizabeth had waited until they were
back in her villa before she asked. She hadn’t wanted to come in when Elizabeth asked, but
agreed anyway.

“Bullshit. What you did for that guy was much more than first aid, basic or advanced. You’ve
had some serious medical training.” When Colby didn’t answer, Elizabeth pushed.

“What did you do before you were a surf instructor?”

“Lots of things, Elizabeth. Let’s just drop it.” She didn’t need an advanced degree to know
Elizabeth wouldn’t. She was tenacious, and when she wanted something she didn’t give in until
she got it.

“I don’t want to drop it. You saved that man’s life.”

Colby sank into the couch that they had made love on only a few days earlier. Dropping her
head back she closed her eyes, exhausted. Instinct and training had kicked in when she saw
the man hit the deck, and even after all this time she knew what he needed. It felt like forever
since she’d had her hands inside someone. She opened her eyes and looked at Elizabeth, a
light of comprehension starting to appear in her angry green ones.

“Tell me,” she said, one part request, one part demand.

“We’ve all had other lives, Elizabeth,” Colby said.

“Yeah, but not many surf instructors can insert a straw in a man’s chest in the middle of the
flipping mountains.”

“Leave it alone, Elizabeth.” Even to her own ears her voice sounded threatening.

“No, I will not leave it alone.” Elizabeth paced back and forth in front of her. “There’s more to
you than you let on and I want it. I want all of it.” Elizabeth stopped suddenly and looked at her
intensely. “Are you a doctor?”

“No.”

“Bullshit.”

It was ironic that in the middle of all this Colby realized that “bullshit” was Elizabeth’s favorite
word, especially when she was angry. And she was definitely angry now. At the risk of pissing
her off even more she repeated her answer.

“Stop lying to me, Colby. Or is everything about you a lie?”

The hitch in Elizabeth’s voice was what did it. Regardless of how hard she’d tried not to, Colby
had fallen hard for this woman. She didn’t want to be the cause of the pain on her face or the
fear in her voice. “I don’t practice anymore,” she said flatly.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t.” Her voice was stronger than she intended, and Elizabeth looked as though
she’d been slapped.

“Why not?” Elizabeth insisted.

“Because I just don’t,” Colby repeated. The answer was good enough the first time, and it was
still good this time. If Elizabeth asked her again, it would continue to be her answer.

But she was wrong. When Elizabeth repeated her question a third time, she said, “Because I
killed my lover.”

Chapter Fourteen

Elizabeth reacted exactly how Colby expected her to if she ever found out. Her mouth was
open, an incredulous look on her face. “What did you say?” she asked.

That night seemed like it was last night, not three years ago. With a voice devoid of emotion,
Colby told Elizabeth the story.

The first five days in March three years ago had been brutal for her. Baby Justin Hanover had
been in such a hurry to join the human race that he was born at twenty-five weeks instead of
the normal forty. Like all premature infants he had a multitude of medical issues for her to deal
with.

Colby was the best pediatric surgeon in the U.S. and often consulted on critically ill children.
Many times she would fly across the country to see a child, then turn around and return to her
own thriving practice in a Seattle suburb.

But Justin was her patient this time. His internal organs weren’t ready to function on their own
and his lungs were critically underdeveloped. He was anemic and jaundiced, and needed a
ventilator to help him breathe. The main blood vessel leaving the heart that supplied blood to his
lungs had a hole in it, and he was scheduled for surgery the next morning. Colby had practically
lived in the neonatal intensive-care unit the eight days of the baby’s life and had finally stepped
away long enough to go home, grab a few hours of sleep, and be back in the morning for his
surgery.

Her house was dark when she pulled into the driveway and opened the garage door. She lived
in Grant, just outside Seattle. She had wanted to live closer to the city and the hospital but
Gretchen had insisted, and at the time Colby was still too much in love to deny her anything. As
she got out of the car her cell phone rang. She answered without looking at the caller ID,
thinking it was the hospital. “Dr. Taylor.”

“Dr. Colby Taylor?”

“Yes.” She didn’t recognize the voice on the other end of the phone but didn’t think twice. It was
probably a new nurse.

“Dr. Taylor, I’m with the Seattle Police Department. Do you know a Gretchen Thomas?”

Colby’s pulse raced, not out of concern but out of anger. “Yes. What’s she done now?” she
asked.

“Doctor, we’d like you to come down here. We have a problem concerning Ms. Thomas and
she’s asking for you.”

“If she’s drunk somewhere tell her to call a cab. I’ve got better things to do than go across
town and bail her ass out.” It wouldn’t be the first time Gretchen had done something stupid to
draw the attention of the police, and certainly not the second or even the third time she’d tied
one on and found herself stuck in the middle of nowhere with no car. The last time she didn’t
even know where she was when she called. Hopefully she wouldn’t get behind the wheel.

“I’m afraid it’s more than that, ma’am.”

Colby felt old when the officer called her “ma’am.” His voice even sounded like he was fifteen.
She was exhausted and furious. “What is it exactly?”

The young officer hesitated. “She’s…uh…”

“For Christ’s sake, just say it. I don’t have all night.”

“She’s on the I-90 bridge, ma’am.”

“I repeat, tell her to call a cab.” Colby slammed the car door and jabbed at the numbers on the
security key pad on the wall just inside the laundry room.

“Ma’am, she’s threatening to jump.”

Colby stopped. Gretchen had flippantly threatened to kill herself a number of times, but this one
was new. She had never got anywhere close to doing something so stupid and selfish until now.
“What?”

“She’s threatening to jump. The crisis negotiator has been talking to her for a couple of hours,
but she won’t get down. She asked for you an hour ago. We need you here, Dr. Taylor.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” Colby shouted into the darkened kitchen. She always turned her cell phone off
while she was in the NICU and had only remembered to turn it back on when she pulled into the
driveway.

“Are you sure? She’s threatened to do this before and it’s always been bullshit manipulation.”
Colby knew she sounded insensitive, but she was sleep-deprived and tired of Gretchen’s ploys
for attention.

“Ma’am,” the officer said.

“Stop calling me ma’am,” Colby shouted into the receiver.

“Dr. Taylor, we wouldn’t be calling you if it wasn’t serious. The crisis counselor really thinks
she’ll jump and asked me to call you. I can send a patrol car to come pick you up—”

“I don’t need a goddamn ride. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She snapped her phone shut and
stormed back out of the house. Eight minutes later the phone rang again. She assumed it was
the police.

“So help me, Gretchen, if this is another false alarm, I’ll personally throw your sorry ass off the
fucking bridge.”

It wasn’t. Colby had pulled out everything in her arsenal to save Justin Hanson, but two blocks
from the bridge she learned that he had died.

Exhausted from fighting for Justin’s life and enduring Gretchen’s increasingly neurotic,
manipulative behavior, she stormed across the bridge. The officer who had stopped her had
verified her identity and sent her in this direction. She was filled with rage. Rage at Gretchen,
rage at God for letting that sweet little baby boy die, and rage at whoever got in her way. She
brushed away the tears on her cheeks before she jumped out of her car, and her face was dry
as she approached the police van.

It was drizzling again and the temperature had dropped at least ten degrees. The puddles of
rainwater reflected the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles, making it seem like more of
Seattle’s finest were at this scene than actually were. She stepped in a puddle and cursed.

“I’m Colby Taylor,” she said through gritted teeth. A police radio crackled, a fog horn blasted in
the distance.

The crisis negotiator introduced himself, briefed her on the current situation, and after what felt
like forever led Colby to Gretchen, who was standing on the top of the rail that separated the
pedestrian walkway from the edge of the bridge. Her left hand was holding one of the support
cables, her back to the asphalt lanes now emptied of traffic.

“Gretchen,” Colby spat. She had to repeat her name before she turned around. Colby was
about ten feet away and couldn’t tell if Gretchen was crying or if rain slid down her cheeks. Her
hair was plastered to her head and her eyes held that same wild look they did every time they
fought.

“I’m surprised you came.” Gretchen’s voice was full of hatred.

“Gretchen, what in the hell are you doing?” The crisis counselor had told her to talk to Gretchen
in calm, soothing tones and to say whatever she needed to get her off her perch. Fuck it. She
was tired of coddling her.

“Why are you here? You don’t love me anymore.”

Here we go again, Colby thought. Gretchen had been pulling this crap for months. Her schedule
was demanding, and more often than not she was at the hospital when Gretchen thought she
should be home. Gretchen was an expert on passive-aggressive behavior and was equally
adept at getting what she wanted through manipulation. When that behavior was no longer
effective she had begun threatening to hurt herself if Colby didn’t come home, go to a party, or
whatever other inconsequential, stupid thing she wanted her to do.

They argued constantly, Gretchen demanding more of Colby’s time and attention. They had
been partners almost eight years, and Gretchen had known her career was demanding when
they got together. Why now, after all these years, was it a problem? And tonight of all nights
she had to pull this crap.

“Gretchen, we’ve had this discussion more than once, now get down from there.”

“I swear I’ll jump. I’m not coming down unless you promise to spend more time with me.” She
stuck out her bottom lip like a petulant child. That behavior always infuriated Colby.

“Gretchen.” Colby shook her head. “This is un-fucking-believable. It’s three in the goddamn
morning, and the baby I spent the last week trying to save, a baby who fought so hard for life,
is dead. I can’t believe you have the nerve to stand up there and threaten to jump because I’m
not giving you enough attention.”

Gretchen looked right through her.

“I’m tired of your empty threats, Gretchen. Get down.” Colby heard the intake of breath from
the crisis negotiator. She felt him move closer and ignored him.

“Or what? You’re gonna run off and hide in your little hospital again where you’re such a big
shot, Doctor?” Her sneer was clearly visible.

That was the last straw. She devoted the majority of her life working to save those too small
and weak to save themselves, the complete innocents of the world. And this was what she got
in return? She should have a lover who would take her in her arms after a case like this, no
questions asked, no rebuke for the lack of time they spent together. Who would hold her,
comfort her, love her. When did Gretchen become so selfish? When did she herself stop
caring?

“Either get your ass down or jump off the fucking bridge. I don’t care which.”

What happened next was the script of her nightmares. Gretchen had held Colby’s gaze, leaned
back, and let go.

“There was an inquest. The coroner ruled her death a suicide,” Colby said at the end of her
story.

“Colby.” Elizabeth sat beside her and laid her hand on Colby’s forearm. Colby stiffened under
her touch, then jerked her arm away.

“Don’t, Elizabeth.” Colby put one hand up, palm facing Elizabeth to emphasize her point. “I don’t
want your pity, your sympathy, or your absolution. I killed Gretchen just the same as if I had
pushed her off that bridge.” God, she was tired.

“That wasn’t what I intended to say.”

Colby practically jumped off the couch. “Don’t psychoanalyze me, Elizabeth. I’m a doctor. I
know what’s going on, and don’t even try to bullshit me. That’s exactly what you intended to say
and I don’t want to hear it.” Colby turned away, not wanting to see the look of undeserved pity
in her eyes—or worse.

“Just because we’ve been sleeping together doesn’t mean you can read my mind,” Elizabeth
shot back. “Do you think so little of me that you can lie to me about something like this?”

“I didn’t lie to you.”

“Really? You led me to believe you were nothing more than a surf instructor.” Elizabeth was on
her feet pacing now.

“I didn’t lead you to believe anything.” Colby knew she was quibbling.

“Then what exactly would you call it? Lying by omission?” Elizabeth stopped and gazed at
Colby with an expression of dawning understanding. “Did you think I wouldn’t want anything to
do with you if I knew?”

Colby dropped her hand. “That has nothing to do with it.” Her anger was returning.

“Then what does it have to do with?”

Colby was on the verge of collapse. She hadn’t slept last night, and the adrenaline that had
kept her going these last few hours was depleted. She could barely remember to breathe, and
the last remnants of the control she had so painstakingly maintained slid away. “I don’t deserve
it,” she said, surprising herself.

“You don’t deserve what?”

“Anything, anybody.” Colby stood in front of the couch but didn’t sit down. “I killed her just the
same as if I’d pushed her.” She held up her hand again, silencing Elizabeth. “I told Gretchen to
jump. I killed her,” she repeated. “Why should I be entitled to anything? Gretchen is dead. A
wonderful, loving woman is gone. Her parents were devastated, her sister had a miscarriage,
and I can’t sleep at night because of what I did. What I did.”

Colby jabbed her own finger into her chest, emphasizing each word. “So don’t you dare tell me
what I can or cannot have. What I can think or feel. I am responsible for the death of another
human being. I took the Hippocratic Oath to protect and preserve life. And because I was
tired,” Colby choked, “God help me, I abandoned it because I was tired.” Her head ached, her
eyes were dry. She had cried so much the first few months after Gretchen’s death she didn’t
have any tears left. She turned her back on Elizabeth, not wanting to see the disgust she knew
was there.

“So you think you deserve to be punished for the rest of your life because of a stupid decision
somebody else made?”

Elizabeth’s voice was soft, but her question was anything but.

How was she supposed to answer that? She was responsible for Gretchen’s death. She had to
live with that fact every single day and take it to bed with her every night. She stood, her legs
weak as she headed for the front door. Then she turned around and looked into sad eyes.

“Yes, Elizabeth I do. And nothing you or anyone else can say will convince me otherwise.” She
stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind her.

Chapter Fifteen

Elizabeth was stunned. She had no idea what Colby had intended to say, but it certainly wasn’t
this. How could she think that she’d killed that woman—her girlfriend? It wasn’t her fault she
had jumped. From what little Colby said, Gretchen was manipulative and got caught in her final
bluff. How cruel to leave that as the last thought of the woman you claimed to love. Elizabeth
tasted the hatred boiling up in her throat.

She paced around her villa until it started to close in on her. Grabbing her key and a twenty
from her wallet, she headed out the door.

She didn’t mind that she couldn’t find an empty chair on the beach. She preferred to walk,
needed to move to work off the nervous energy coiled inside her. Colby’s words echoed in her
brain: “I killed my lover.” How hard it must have been to say that and even harder to live with
the belief that she had done something so horrible. Suddenly Elizabeth remembered the
nightmare.

It was one of the few times they had simply slept together, at least for any length of time. She
woke to Colby thrashing around mumbling something she couldn’t understand. When Elizabeth
had woken her, Colby claimed it was just a bad dream, and within minutes Elizabeth didn’t
remember anything except the feel of her mouth on her.

This affair, or whatever tag they would put on it, would soon end. It had to. She had to go back
to work, and neither of them had mentioned anything about seeing each other again. They
wouldn’t Twitter each other, be Facebook friends, or make video calls three times a week. That
was simply an unspoken understanding.

“What a bunch of bullshit,” Elizabeth said out loud, after a newlywed couple passed. She sank
to her knees, barely conscious of the water lapping around her, and it hit her like a tsunami.
She had fallen in love with Colby Taylor. One hundred percent, totally, unarguably in love with
the surf instructor with dark eyes, a gentle touch, and a breathtaking smile.

When did this happen? The first time she saw her? The first time they kissed? The first time
they made love? Her body swayed and she moved off her knees and sat down, curling her toes
in the wet sand as she gazed out into the water.

Images of Colby danced across the horizon. Mastering the waves on her board, walking in the
sand, laughing at something silly, above her in the early hours before dawn. She choked back a
sob. What had she done? How had she let this happen? She wasn’t in the market for a
relationship, especially not falling in love. Hell, she hadn’t even been looking for sex. Well, she
had certainly hit the trifecta with Colby.

An hour later Elizabeth sat in front of her computer, but not writing or conducting research for
her book. She was reading the seventeenth out of eight hundred and thirty-nine hits on Dr.
Colby Taylor.

As Elizabeth devoured the information, an entirely different image of Colby formed. She had
graduated summa cum laude from Smith College, at the top of her class at Harvard Medical
School, and had completed a prestigious residency in pediatric surgery at Johns Hopkins
Hospital. She had moved to Seattle and opened her own practice and become one of the top
pediatric surgeons in the country.

Article after article touted Colby’s skill in the operating room, her dedication to her patients, her
generosity of giving her time to local charities. Elizabeth read at least four or five instances that
stated how she had donated her skills to save the life of a child whose parents couldn’t afford
it. There were pictures of Colby, mostly in scrubs, but one specific one made Elizabeth stop
breathing.

Colby was evidently at a charity event, wearing a black cocktail dress that ended just above her
knees, the spaghetti straps revealing strong, tan shoulders. Even looking at a four-inch-square
picture, Elizabeth could tell the dress was a perfect fit, accentuating every curve of Colby’s lean

body. She was standing with four other people and laughing. This was a Colby that Elizabeth
had never seen. The caption identified the woman at her side as Gretchen Thomas.

Elizabeth stared at the woman who had caused Colby such pain. She was much shorter than
Colby, with an edginess that Elizabeth instinctively didn’t like. Gretchen’s expression clearly said
she was annoyed that she wasn’t the center of attention in the gathering. Elizabeth shook her
head. She had no idea what Gretchen was thinking when the picture was shot. Anything could
have been going on.

She finally pushed away from the computer when her battery died three hours later. Her legs
were stiff when she stood up, and she rubbed the back of her neck as she went in search of
the power cord.

No doubt about it, Colby was an amazing woman. She had simply chucked a successful career
and become a surf instructor. But this situation was anything but simple. Colby was better than
that. She had a wonderful skill, one that saved the lives of hundreds of children, some only
hours old. And she threw it all away because, “Because what? Her stupid girlfriend jumped off
a bridge,” she said out loud in her very empty room.

She fought the urge to fire up the Dell again and Google Colby some more. What else could
she learn that she didn’t already know? The World Wide Web wouldn’t tell her what she knew
about the woman with the shiny black hair and serious dark eyes.

Colby was thoughtful and considerate, pulling out the chair for her, practically standing
whenever she entered the room or left the table. She had a fabulous wit and great sense of
humor. She looked at her like there was no one else in the world she’d rather be with. She had
the softest kisses, her touch featherlight, then demanding. Her breathing became shallow when
she was aroused, her skin flushed and quivered under Elizabeth’s hands. She gasped when she
climaxed.

Yes, Dr. Colby Taylor was an amazing woman, and Elizabeth had fallen head over heels in love
with her. What in the hell did she intend to do about it?

Colby knew it would end like this. She had told herself hundreds of times if anyone discovered
her secret it would be bad. She didn’t have to worry about becoming emotionally involved. That
part of her was dead, shut down tight. Or at least she thought it was. As a doctor, to remain
objective she kept herself removed from her patients. If she thought of them as extremely ill
little kids she wouldn’t be able to focus on saving their lives. She lived her life emotionally one
step away from everybody, and she hadn’t been aware she’d done it to Gretchen too.

The water lapped over her feet and ankles. She had no idea how long she’d been walking along
the shore. The sun had set hours ago, and she’d been on the beach ever since she left
Elizabeth.

She was a mess, carrying enough emotional baggage to fill an oil tanker. And, like one, she
was leaking after running aground with Elizabeth Collins. She had built a shell around herself
after Gretchen. No one knew about her other life, her world before her life as a surf instructor.
The designer clothes, the seven-figure bank account, the three cars parked in the garage of a
house located on two acres only fifteen miles away.

She and Gretchen used to come here, to Maui. At least in the beginning. They would fly out
every chance they had, even if just for the weekend, and spend their days lying in the sun, their
nights in each other’s arms. Somewhere along the way they stopped making the trip. It was
always another sick baby, another medical crisis that only Dr. Taylor could handle, and before
too long they stopped going anywhere together. When Colby was able to get away, she and
Gretchen rarely went in the same car. She was either coming from her office or rushing back to
the hospital and cutting the evening short. At least her evening. Gretchen often stayed until the
festivities were over.

Colby didn’t think Gretchen was sleeping with anyone else, but she wasn’t around enough to
know one way or the other. Was that why Gretchen was trying to get her attention that night?
Her final effort for Colby to see her again, acknowledge her? Even before that night Colby
couldn’t remember the last time they made love.

She hadn’t been to the house here on the island since Gretchen died. She had given the keys to
her attorney and told him to sell it. Instead, he’d hired a caretaker, which she discovered when
he let it slip during one of their rare conversations. She had been furious and demanded he sell
it, but he held firm, saying she was in no condition to make that kind of major financial decision.
Like selling her four-million-dollar house in Seattle, the Mercedes sedan and BMW sport utility,
and the practice she had built from the ground up weren’t major decisions.

When she first left Seattle she conversed with him once a week. They traded faxes and
signatures until everything was finally settled. Three years of monthly financial statements lay
unopened in a box on the top shelf of her closet. God, her life was a disaster. She was
probably worth millions and she was living in eight hundred square feet above a surf shop.

“How dare you, Elizabeth? How dare you tell me what I’m supposed to feel?” she shouted into
the wind. She repeated it, louder this time. “How I’m supposed to react?” Tears she thought
she didn’t have burned her cheeks. Her throat scorched.

She couldn’t walk any farther. “It’s my life, my decision, goddamn it. My stupid, thoughtless
actions killed her, and I have to live with it for the rest of my life.” She screamed into the
darkness over and over until she collapsed on the rough rocks.

Chapter Sixteen

Nothing held Elizabeth’s attention. She tried swimming, running, anything to get her mind off the
conversation with Colby three days ago. She hadn’t slept worth a damn and was cranky and
irritable on top of everything else. She had spent most of yesterday and today on the beach
looking for any sign of Colby, finally going to her shop to see if she could find her there.

Colby had taken her to the surf shop only once, to fit her with a wet suit before their snorkeling
trip. She had never been in a specialty store for water sports, and the two dozen different
surfboards that lined one wall had fascinated her. Colby had patiently explained the differences
between the boards, and Elizabeth had hidden her surprise when Colby let it slip she was the
owner. She knew Colby lived above the shop and had wanted nothing more than to drag her up
there and tour her naked body.

What would she say to Colby when she saw her again? What could she say? “Your girlfriend

was a selfish bitch in life and is continuing to be in death?” Or how about, “It’s been three
years. It wasn’t your fault, get over it.” Oh, yeah, that last one would definitely do the trick.

Several cars were parked in the lot in front of the blue building, none of them Colby’s truck. She
might have parked around back, but Elizabeth suspected she wasn’t even here. “I wouldn’t be if
I were her,” she said, turning off the ignition. “I’d run and hide from me,” she said to no one as
she opened the front door of the store anyway.

A quick look told her Colby wasn’t inside. The clerk recognized her from when she was in with
Colby earlier, and when she asked him if he knew where Colby was, he shook his head, saying
he hadn’t seen her in a few days. Elizabeth had known this trip was fruitless when she started,
but had to come anyway to cover all the bases.

Returning to her hotel, she passed a turnout on her left and caught a glimpse of the ocean
through the break in the foliage. She checked her rearview mirror, then made a quick U-turn
and parked on the shoulder. She needed a moment alone near the water where she wouldn’t
be constantly looking for Colby.

A series of stairs led down from the road and she quickly descended below street level, leaving
the noise of passing cars behind her. The trail became more difficult when it turned from pre-
formed cement to dirt and rock. Her sandals were more dangerous than protective so she
slipped them off and continued down the rough path. She heard the crashing waves and picked
up her pace, careful not to trip over an exposed root or a rock covered in slippery sand.

What a picture-postcard-beautiful scene. A sheer rock cliff rose on her right about two hundred
yards away. Miles of beach stretched to her left. The sand was smooth, the waves intense,
and she was alone. Or she thought she was until she spotted a lone figure walking away from
her. She would recognize the graceful moves, the tilt of the head, the tall, tan body anywhere.
Elizabeth stood where she was. There was only one way in and out of the area, and unless
Colby planned to swim, she would have to pass her to leave.

The expression on Colby’s face told Elizabeth she was thinking about how to avoid her. Colby
hesitated, then continued toward her. Elizabeth’s mind flashed to another time when Colby had
emerged from the water, taken her hand, and kissed her.

When Colby got close enough Elizabeth could see the lines of fatigue on her face, the frown
replacing the dimples she loved so much. She didn’t know if Colby would walk right by her and
didn’t know how she’d react if she did.

Colby stopped in front of her. She waited for Colby to speak first, which felt like an eternity.

“Hello, Elizabeth.” Colby’s voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.

“Colby.” Elizabeth wanted to say more, something, anything to keep her here. She wanted to
talk some sense into her even if it took beating her head against the rocks. But why? She
wouldn’t be here to reap the benefits. She’d be back at school refereeing battles with snippy
teachers. She noticed cuts and scrapes on Colby’s right arm. “What happened?” she asked,
pointing to the wounds.

Colby looked at the area as if having forgotten the injury was there. “Just a little scrape.”

It looked like more than just a little scrape, but Elizabeth didn’t say anything more about it. In
fact, she didn’t say anything. That is, until Colby started to walk away.

“Colby.”

Colby stopped but didn’t turn around. She didn’t say anything either.

“Colby, we have to talk.”

“Elizabeth, I’m not going to talk about this.” The waves were loud but Colby’s voice was louder.

“What are you doing, Colby? What’s going on here? One minute you’re all over me and the next
you’re running away.”

“I’m not.”

“Bullshit. At least be honest about it.”

“Elizabeth, we had some fun, but that’s all it was. I thought you understood that.”

“Whatever gave you the idea I was looking for something else? For God’s sake, Colby, I’m
here on vacation. Not to find my life partner.” Elizabeth shook her head. “It’s about Gretchen,
and before you say anything, let me finish,” she said, raising her hands to ward off Colby’s
rebuttal. “You dropped a bomb on me, Colby. How was I supposed to react? It wasn’t as if you
had a simple little breakup in your back story.”

“And just because we fucked a few times, you don’t have the right to judge,” Colby said angrily.

Colby’s harsh words stuck her like a knife. In the beginning she would have characterized it
more as sex than fucking. Certainly the last few times it was much more than that—at least to
her. This wasn’t the time for that kind of discussion.

“Is that what you think I did?” Elizabeth could see she would have to work hard to keep this
conversation calm.

“That’s exactly what you did, judge me,” she shot back.

Elizabeth didn’t agree but didn’t say so. “I’m sorry if you took it that way, Colby. It wasn’t my
intention.” Some of the anger in Colby’s eyes dissipated. “I didn’t get to where I am by being
shy. I’m outspoken, and I’ll admit it’s not one of my best qualities at times. You just don’t know
that about me.” Actually, Colby knew more about her than most people did. Colby took the time
to talk and ask questions, pump her, challenge her intellect. Until she had done some research
and discovered Colby’s history and profession, she simply thought she was inquisitive.

“No, you’re not shy,” Colby said, finally cracking a smile.

“Look, I’m here for another few weeks. I enjoy your company and I think you enjoy mine as
well.” Colby nodded. “Can we just put this behind us?”

“And do what? Pick up where we left off?”

Elizabeth hesitated before answering. Was that what she wanted? A few more days and nights
with Colby with nothing between them but sex? That wasn’t like her. But she hadn’t been herself
practically since she set foot on this island.

“I’m not here to change your life or how you choose to live it, Colby. I’m just a woman who

needed to get away from it all, and I like where you take me.” Elizabeth felt herself blush as
she remembered all the places Colby had taken her.

“Look.” Elizabeth sighed, suddenly very tired. “I’m going home to my job, my life, and all the
complications that go with it. I’m sorry if that sounds crass but, well, you said it yourself, it is
what it is.” Elizabeth was trying to convince herself as well as Colby, and Colby was looking at
her as if deciding the same thing. She imagined Colby would have that same thoughtful
expression as she studied a set of lab results or the open chest of a newborn. “So, yeah, if
that’s what we do, make each other feel good, so what?”

Colby wondered if she could trust Elizabeth. She ran her fingers through her hair as she tried to
decide. Was it really that simple? Was she only interested in a summer fling? Elizabeth hadn’t
given any indication otherwise up to this point. What made her think she would start now?
Especially now with all the baggage she carried around every day out in the open. If she ever
decided to venture out of her self-imposed exile, who would want her? She had given up a
great career to be a beach bum. What kind of long-term ambition was that? She was quite a
catch. Yeah, the kind you took one look at and threw back.

“I’m sorry I overreacted. It’s just you’re the only person I’ve told about Gretchen.”

“What about your family?”

“No. They knew Gretchen killed herself but none of the details. The coroner’s inquest was
sealed. They didn’t ask and I didn’t tell.” The pang of guilt was stronger than ever this time.

Colby was relieved when Elizabeth shifted away from the painful topic. It took at least another
fifteen minutes before she began to relax and let her guard down. She seemed to be doing that
a lot lately with Elizabeth. Yeah, and look where it got her. Her secret was out and that genie
could never go back into the bottle. What in the hell was she supposed to do with it now?

“Getting enough sun, sand, and sex?”

“Good morning to you too, Diane.” Elizabeth spoke quietly and went out to the patio, closing
the doors behind her so she wouldn’t wake Colby. Another three days had passed since their
discussion on the beach, and in that time they had trod lightly on topics of conversation, both
preferring to communicate the old-fashioned way, with their bodies.

Elizabeth was savoring every moment in Colby’s arms. This all would end soon, and she found
herself wishing the summer would last forever. She had given up on any idea of putting distance
between them to ease the pain. She’d deal with it when she left. The more time she spent with
Colby, the more she saw what a kind, caring person she was. No wonder she was such a good
doctor. She didn’t think Colby was aware of it, but she had changed since her disclosure. She
was more demonstrative, always touching Elizabeth in soft, subtle ways as if clinging to her.
Was Colby trying to hold on to what they had? She told herself to stop thinking like that.

“Shit, it’s lunchtime here. You should be glad I waited this late to call. Now answer my question
about sun, sand, and sex, especially the sex.”

Elizabeth laughed. It was typical for Diane to cut right to the chase. “Yes. Yes, in some
interesting places, and there’s never enough.” She waited for her friend to process her

answers.

“Do tell, sister.” That was Diane’s favorite phrase.

“Diane, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“That’s because you never did anything to talk about.”

Well, she was certainly making up for it now. The soreness in her legs confirmed it. Diane
prodded her again. “She’s a surfing instructor,” Elizabeth said tentatively.

“Ooh, hot body, lots of tanned skin.”

Elizabeth smiled, picturing how she had left Colby naked, sprawled across the bed on the other
side of the villa. “You can say that again.” And when Diane did, Elizabeth flushed.

“I repeat, do tell,” Diane said.

“She’s funny and charming, polite and very attentive.” That was their code for a partner that
cared as much about their sexual pleasure as their own. Both she and Diane had had lovers
who practically didn’t give a damn about their orgasms.

Diane inhaled sharply. “And does this wonder woman have a name?”

“Colby.”

“Mmm, very androgynous.”

Elizabeth agreed that Colby’s dark complexion, spiky hair, and chiseled body was just that, but
she knew firsthand that Colby was all woman. “She’s Hawaiian and hot.”

“Why are you whispering?” Before Elizabeth had a chance to answer, Diane said, “She’s there
with you now, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she’s still sleeping.” Elizabeth had woken before Colby and had lain in her arms listening
to her breathe. They had been up most of the night making love, rarely saying anything more
than an occasional “yes,” “right there,” and “harder” to each other.

As Colby slept, Elizabeth struggled to sort out her feelings. How much of her emotional turmoil
was tied up in the fact that she was with a charming, stunningly beautiful woman in paradise?
This wasn’t reality. She was on vacation, and real life had a way of staying discreetly in the
background. What would it be like when everyday life was overlaid on their relationship?

What relationship? she had asked herself in the dark. This wasn’t a relationship. At least not in
the way she was used to it being defined. They weren’t a couple. Hell, they weren’t even
dating. What were they? She had fallen for Colby, that was definite. But Colby hadn’t indicated
that she felt anything for her other than physically.

Elizabeth tried not to read anything into the way Colby had touched her last night. It had felt
unique, more intense, her touch alternating between hot desire and sweet passion, each time
melting into the time before until finally they collapsed in exhaustion. She had slept only an hour
or so before waking and lying quietly so she wouldn’t disturb her lover. Could she stay? How
absurd was that? She had a career, responsibilities, family, and friends. She had a contract for
the next three years. She couldn’t possibly leave all that.

And do what? Serve drinks at a resort? There weren’t many jobs like hers here on the island.
She would go nuts without something meaningful to do. Yeah, that and the fact that Colby
hadn’t given her any indication that she wanted her to. That thought and nature had finally
propelled her out of bed, and she was careful not to wake Colby.

“You go, girl!” Diane’s words bounced across the miles. She had ragged on her forever about
getting out more. Getting laid was more accurate. Obviously Diane was pleased.

“As a matter of fact…” Elizabeth began teasing her.

“No, I don’t want to hear any more about it. Go back in there and give her a great big wet
wake-up kiss just for me. That way when I meet her she’ll remember me.”

Elizabeth paused. “I doubt you’ll ever meet her, Diane. It’s not like we’ve fallen madly in love
and will live happily ever after.” Elizabeth heard the catch in her voice. She still didn’t know
when she had stupidly gone and done it. Fallen in love with a woman she couldn’t have. Maybe
if she kept denying it, it would somehow mysteriously disappear. Fat chance.

“Of course not,” Diane replied. “She’s only a surf instructor, for God’s sake.”

Elizabeth didn’t like the way Diane said “surf instructor.” She made it sound low-class. Like
Colby was incapable of anything else. Elizabeth knew how far from the truth that statement
was. Diane was a social snob. Was she like that too?

If she was honest, she’d felt a thrill in being with a surf instructor on vacation. A little bad-girl
thing. A bit decadent and risqué. It might have been like that in the beginning, but she certainly
didn’t think that now.

“She’s more than a surf instructor, Diane.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing, but there’s more to Colby than just teaching people how to surf.”

Diane’s voice was serious this time. “Are you falling for her?”

“Of course not,” Elizabeth answered quickly. She wasn’t falling. She had fallen.

“Be careful, Elizabeth.”

“Diane, I am not falling for her,” Elizabeth said firmly. “You said it yourself. I needed to get out
more, have fun. There’s nothing more to our relationship than sex. Well, it’s fabulous sex, but
that’s it. Diane, I know what I’m doing and who I am and what my limitations are. I don’t plan to
fall for someone that I have nothing in common with and who, by the way, lives thirty states
away. How stupid do you think I am?” Keep saying that and eventually you might believe it,
Elizabeth.

Colby eased back into the room, careful not to draw Elizabeth’s attention. Elizabeth’s words
echoed in her head. “Don’t plan to fall for someone that I have nothing in common with.” Her
mother had always told her nothing good came from eavesdropping. She hadn’t meant to listen
in on Elizabeth’s conversation. She didn’t even know she was on the phone until she slid the
door open. Elizabeth had told her the same thing a few days ago, but it sounded different when
she was saying it to somebody else. It hurt. It hurt, a lot, and Colby did what she did best when
in pain. She turned into herself and ran.

Her legs were unsteady. She stumbled back to the bedroom. She needed to leave, she needed
to get out. She felt the same as she had once the realization of what she had done to Gretchen
set in.

Elizabeth spoke when she was buttoning the top button on her shorts. “Where are you going?
I’m not done with you yet.”

Her voice was soft and sexy, and Colby cursed the fact that her pulse raced with the familiar
fast cadence that began whenever she was around her. She hadn’t heard Elizabeth come into
the room. She reached for her shirt, hiding her shaking hands by putting it on, then turned
around.

Elizabeth was propped against the doorjamb, arms crossed over her chest, looking relaxed.
God, she was sexy, and Colby’s muscles tightened as they did every time she thought it.

“I have to go. There’s something I’ve gotta do this morning.” Her excuse was lame but she
didn’t care.

“At seven a.m.? This is Hawaii. Nothing happens at this hour.”

Colby scooted by Elizabeth, careful not to touch any part of her. She knew well enough that she
wouldn’t have the willpower to stop what her body cried out to do.

“Colby?” Elizabeth’s voice was questioning.

Colby didn’t look back and continued down the hall and out the front door.

Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She seemed to have left every molecule of oxygen in Elizabeth’s
room. Colby felt absolutely alone. Somehow, deep inside, she knew the door closing behind her
symbolized much more.

Chapter Seventeen

Colby didn’t know how she got here. She hadn’t been to this place in years and never thought
she’d come here again. She punched in the code to open the gate without thinking and slowly
drove along the brick wall that curved to the right. The shrubs and lawn next to the long drive
were neatly trimmed and gave no indication that the owner couldn’t have cared less about the
condition of the prime real estate.

The familiar beeping of the security alarm went silent after Colby punched in a different set of
numbers that she remembered as if she had entered them just last night. The interior of the
large house smelled a bit damp and stale, as if no fresh air had drifted through it in a long time.
She hadn’t been inside it for at least five years but, judging by the lack of dust and cobwebs,
her attorney continued to periodically send in a cleaning crew.

She ran her fingers across the kitchen countertop, remembering the week she had the dark
granite installed. The cabinetmaker had recommended a woman in Honolulu, and Colby was
pleasantly surprised when she came to measure that she was a lesbian as well. Colby had
sensed the woman was attracted to her and she admired the woman for keeping their
relationship strictly professional. More than a few times during the remodeling of this house she
had to subtly and at times not so subtly decline an invitation from other contractors for more

than what she was paying for. Why did some people think you were fair game just because you
were separated from your partner by a few thousand miles?

No matter how stressed or unconnected she had felt with Gretchen, she never strayed. When
she committed to someone she was faithful regardless of the situation. She was never
attracted to another woman the entire time she was with Gretchen and could proudly state as
much even on their last days together.

Having abandoned her shoes at the door, she wandered through the rest of the house, the tile
cool on her feet. She couldn’t remember many happy times. Gretchen had never really liked this
house, though she liked the idea of having a three-thousand-square-foot house on a hill
overlooking the Pacific Ocean to impress people with. She and Gretchen had argued about that
fact so often that Colby had almost put the property up for sale. Colby had inherited the house
from her favorite aunt on her father’s side when she was still in med school. That only her name
was on the title had caused yet another argument, but a nagging suspicion had made her keep
it that way. When she began to see Gretchen’s true nature, Colby was glad she had.

The double French doors opened easily, the curtain billowing in the soft ocean breeze.
Gretchen had insisted on decorating the master bedroom; the massive four-poster canopy bed
and the shades of red and gold reminded Colby more of a Las Vegas hotel room than the
bedroom of two women in love. She couldn’t remember the last time she and Gretchen had
made love in the big bed, or anywhere else in the house, for that matter.

She didn’t really care how that room or any of the rest of the house was decorated, preferring
to focus her attention on the house’s landscaping at the time, but now it seemed garish. One
quick call to one of her weekly dinner mates would change all that.

After slipping her tennis shoes back on her feet, Colby grabbed the key that hung by the back
door and headed for the storage shed next to the garage. She made quick work of the lock and
swung the double doors open. The scent of grass and dried clippings filled her nostrils, making
her feel warm, full, and exhilarated. She checked the fluids in the green lawn tractor and added
two gallons of gas and a quart of oil before she settled comfortably onto the yellow seat. With
a flick of a switch the engine turned over and, after sputtering a few times, settled into a
rhythmic hum. She shifted into drive and edged the mower out onto the expansive green lawn.

Other than surfing, puttering around her yard was the only thing that truly relaxed her. She
didn’t know how much she’d missed it until she drove the mower back and forth across the
grass, deftly maneuvering around trees and shrubs. The pattern left behind the mower indicated
that the grass really didn’t need more than a trim.

Her mind floated as she drove. Familiar sights, sounds, and smells cascaded around her like
old friends. The sun warmed her skin and the breeze ruffled her short hair. A fly buzzed around
her head. At one time she would have thought it a pest, but now it didn’t bother her. Her
sunglasses kept the harshest glare out of her eyes while her ear plugs restricted the mower’s
loud noise. She had always been a stickler for safety, whether it was with razor-sharp scalpels
in the operating room or yard equipment at home. As a physician, her body was her livelihood.
As a…what was she now? A former physician? A surf instructor? A store owner?

It dawned on Colby that she had always defined herself by her job. Her occupation had
determined her self-worth as far back as she could remember. But those things really didn’t

matter. Not anymore. What mattered was how you were as a person, as an individual living in
the present. Did you contribute to society or simply take? Did you make the life of someone
better? Did you help preserve the planet for its future inhabitants? Did you make a difference?

Elizabeth did. She was shaping and forming the minds of young people for future generations.
She affected the lives of her students every day by creating an atmosphere conducive to
learning and fighting for resources that the students at her school needed.

But what did she do? She used to save lives. Or at least work tirelessly using every skill she
had to try. Making someone’s vacation memorable was nothing in comparison. Or was it?
Memories were made during vacations, families came together, and couples reconnected.
Wasn’t she a part of that? Often family members were in her class or at least on the beach
keeping a careful eye on their loved one. Wasn’t creating those memories important too?

“I give up,” Elizabeth said, tossing her things into her bag. She’d walked up and down the
shoreline for miles every day, looking for any sign of Colby. Finally, exhaustion, sunburn, and
the sheer futility of trying to find one person on an island with a population of 150,000 was too
much to ignore. That and the fact that Colby obviously didn’t want to be found.

Colby wanted to end their relationship, that was clear. Elizabeth laughed at her choice of
words. Where in the hell did that come from? What they were to each other was as much a
relationship as sex was to love. One didn’t necessarily equal the other.

She thought she knew what she was getting into when she let Colby kiss her that first time, but
she had never anticipated this. And Colby knew she was on her island for only a short time.
Locals didn’t sit on the beach in front of a popular tourist resort and drink Lava Flows all day.
She was ideal. A little fun, a little sand in all the right places, and Elizabeth would be gone.
What a perfect life Colby had carved out for herself. No chance of any demands on her. If
someone got too close, she would simply disappear until the woman left the island.

Elizabeth had repeated this mantra ever since Colby walked out the door of her villa five days
earlier. She had given her two days to call her, but when she hadn’t, Elizabeth started looking
for her. And how stupid was that? Rarely, if ever, had she chased a woman, and it made
absolutely no sense to do so now. Especially now.

And what was all this shit about her dead girlfriend? Gretchen was the one who decided to
jump off the fucking bridge. Nobody pushed her, even if Colby believed she did. She had read
Gretchen’s obituary. The woman was thirty-eight, for God’s sake, and responsible for her own
life. Elizabeth could only imagine the pain and grief Colby must have had to endure those first
few days. And she carried it with her even now.

The next week passed incredibly slowly, Elizabeth unable to concentrate on anything. Finally it
was time to go home. Actually, she was leaving a few days early because nothing was keeping
her here. Nothing at all. She was returning to her house, her friends, her job, her life. She’d
expected she’d be excited to leave, since she really didn’t want to come on this little vacation in
the first place, but she didn’t expect to feel torn and apprehensive.

Silently she packed. Her pulse quickened when she put the waterproof cameras she’d used on
their snorkeling trip into her suitcase. Her mouth turned suddenly dry when the swimsuit she

was wearing the first time Colby touched her followed. Her stomach churned when she folded
the Skyline Experience T-shirt she’d bought before they ascended the mountain. The place
where it all started to fall apart. Shaking the thoughts away, she zipped the case, checked the
room one more time, then closed the door behind her.

As the front-desk clerk completed her paperwork, Elizabeth didn’t even try to fight the urge to
look around the lobby for Colby. She had dreamed last night that she was in this exact spot and
a voice from behind her said, “Don’t go.” A jolt of electricity slammed through her body and she
grabbed the counter to stay upright. She couldn’t think, her sudden dizziness telling her she
probably couldn’t breathe either. All the noise in the busy lobby stopped. Every bird squawking,
every car horn, every sound on the island stopped. Except one. “Please.”

Colby’s voice was little more than a whisper prompting Elizabeth to turn around. Standing in
front of her was the woman who had made her laugh, willingly jump off a mountain, and swim
with the turtles off the bow of the catamaran. She had taught her to surf, eat sushi in a
restaurant in Lahaina, and laugh at her own clumsiness. She made her heart thunder in her
chest and her blood race so fast Elizabeth thought she might die. She had touched her like no
one ever had, and more than once she felt as if she had died and floated to heaven. And she
was asking her to stay.

Wordlessly Colby took her hand, and in the next instant they were naked in Colby’s small bed in
her tiny apartment sharing wonderful sensations. Colby made love to her with a patience that
drove her wild with need.

It started with her kisses, and Colby’s kiss was never enough. Tenderly she kissed Elizabeth’s
eyes, her cheeks, the line of her jaw, until her soft lips had touched almost every inch of
Elizabeth’s face. Colby was a fabulous kisser and Elizabeth desperately wanted their lips
together, Colby’s strong, demanding tongue in her mouth. But every time she turned her head
toward Colby’s kisses, Colby moved away until Elizabeth was gasping in need. Colby finally
covered her mouth with hers.

Slowly at first, almost tentatively, Colby trailed her tongue over Elizabeth’s swollen lips, then
teased her until she finally decided to slip inside. Their tongues danced and Elizabeth willingly
followed where Colby led.

Colby lay beside her and explored Elizabeth’s body as if it were unfamiliar terrain. However, it
hardly was. Elizabeth was certain Colby knew the location of every crease, freckle, and scar.
She knew where Elizabeth was ticklish, where she needed to be touched firmly, and where just
a breath of a touch would send a jolt from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. And she
used that knowledge to drive Elizabeth crazy with desire.

Featherlight kisses caressed her throat, then Colby traced the pounding vein in her neck with
her teeth. Her hands weren’t still but slowly moved up and down Elizabeth’s sides, each trip just
that much closer to her breasts. Elizabeth arched into the stroke and groaned her frustration
when Colby kept caressing her.

Colby’s mouth eased down Elizabeth’s neck at the same time her right hand edged up to cup
her breast. Lightly licking her breast like a precious flower, Colby ignored the nipple that was
begging for attention. Elizabeth wanted Colby to flick her hot tongue over the tight nipple and
suck the hard tip until she came. Colby must have read her mind because she started with the

breast in her hand and, when she had her fill, moved on to the other.

Elizabeth’s moans of ecstasy filled the small room and Colby slowed her pace. They had been
together enough times for Colby to sense when she was on the verge of orgasm, and one more
bite on the sensitive tip would do it.

Colby moved her hand down her stomach and slid her fingers through her warm, wet folds.

“Picture my face between your legs, my lips on you, my tongue rubbing you, right there where
you need it. I feel it. Picture me looking up at you. Your juices on my face, my eyes locked with
yours. What are you thinking? What do you want to say? You know what I hear you say? I hear
you saying, ‘Fuck me. Lick my pussy. Lick me, lick me, lick me.’ Picture my head rocking back
and forth as my tongue fucks you until you come.”

Elizabeth bit hard into her neck, her scream smothered.

Her breathing slowly returned to its natural cadence. Her throat was raw and she was still more
than a little light-headed. Sex with Colby was astonishing.

“Well, now that’s settled,” she said, almost embarrassingly. Colby held her hand, stopping her
retreat.

“Elizabeth?”

She didn’t know if it was a question or simply her name.

Colby lifted her chin. “Look at me.”

Elizabeth had trouble obeying the soft command, but the sound of Colby’s voice overrode her
hesitation.

“You’re beautiful.” The same simple words she’d said that first night.

“Miss Collins?” The desk clerk’s voice plunged her headlong back to the present. She had to
blink several times to drive the erotic dream from her mind. It was a few more seconds before
she could answer coherently. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you enjoyed your stay?” The look on the clerk’s face said she expected nothing
other than a resounding yes. Elizabeth didn’t disappoint her as she folded her receipt in half.

“If I may ask,” the clerk paused, “what was the most enjoyable part of your visit to Maui?”

Elizabeth hesitated. Everything in her wanted to say Colby. She would be the only memory
Elizabeth would keep with her forever. Long after the beautiful beaches dissolved in her mind
and the fiery sunsets faded in her photographs, she would remember Colby coming out of the
water, mastering Mother Nature’s waves, laughing, smiling when she looked at her. Her body
would never forget Colby’s skillful, yet tender touch.

Elizabeth looked around the lush lobby one last time before answering. “Everything.”

Colby stopped the mower and turned off the engine. The ticking of the cooling motor was all
she could hear over the hammering beat of her heart. Two weeks had passed since she had
come here, back to her house. She had performed this benign household chore more often than

she needed, and whether it was the melodic hum of the motor, the warmth of the sun on her
face, or communing with nature, her mind was clearer than it had been in years. The sun was
brighter today, the chirping of the birds clearer, the roar of the surf louder. She had just
emerged from the overcast skies that had been her life for the past three years.

Elizabeth. The reason was as clear as the sky overhead. Elizabeth had come into her life, and
her heart and body had switched back on. Only it wasn’t that quick or that finite. It resembled
many other aspects of nature. A butterfly floated in the air and Colby thought of a caterpillar,
moving through life one millimeter at a time, then weaving its cocoon and waiting until the right
time to explode into life.

She was like that butterfly or, more correctly, had been the caterpillar hunkered down in her
cocoon waiting for someone to come into her life and unravel her protective barrier. Not just
anyone, for she had more than a few opportunities. The first time she saw Elizabeth she began
to transform into her new life.

Colby sat in the middle of her yard, where she had always felt the most comfortable, the most
real, and all the pieces fell into place. The prickling sensation that someone was watching her,
the first time she saw Elizabeth sitting on the beach, the overwhelming need to kiss her, to
touch her.

Often throughout the past few years she had needed a connection, the touch of another human
being. She had always believed she was getting it from the sometimes-anonymous sex, when
what she needed was the absolute opposite. Yes, she needed connection, but she needed
something emotional, not physical. She just didn’t realize it until Elizabeth.

She had spent more time wanting to be with Elizabeth than she had actually been with her. She
had no idea when it happened, but it was as clear to her as if it had been tattooed on her chest
at the Painted Lady. Elizabeth was the light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. She was the ray
of hope Colby had been unknowingly searching for.

Colby sat frozen in the seat, stunned by the realization of what her life had been and what it
could be. Elizabeth wasn’t her reason for living, but she gave her the nudge she needed to get
on with her life.

She looked around. Her house, the beautiful grounds she cultivated with her own hands, the
breathtaking view didn’t symbolize anything. She didn’t have to live a life of sparseness to pay
her debt to Gretchen. Gretchen would have done what she intended to one way or another.
She simply chose to take Colby with her. But at what cost? By allowing herself to be dragged
into Gretchen’s selfishness, Colby was hurting the ones she loved, who loved her, the children
she could otherwise be helping. Who was the selfish one now?

Could she go back to her life before? Before Gretchen killed herself? Before she became
oblivious to the world around her other than her patients? Did she want to live that way again?
She would fall into the same trap if she didn’t consciously change her attitude. Change what
really mattered to her. Could she do it? Did she want to? Could she live with herself if she
didn’t?

She’d never shied away from the unknown in her old life. She took it as a challenge, not
stopping until she conquered it. But she wasn’t that person now. She was still learning who she

was and where Elizabeth fit into her life. The answers to these questions scared the hell out of
her.

Chapter Eighteen

“President Collins, are you all right?”

The question from one of the students caught her off guard. She looked at the pimple-faced
freshman. “Of course. I’m sorry. What was your name again?” It was the second week in
September, freshman orientation day at Embers College, and three hundred eager, anonymous
faces surrounded Elizabeth.

Most of her peers at other colleges didn’t bother to attend orientation, but she missed the one-
on-one connection with the students and enjoyed helping them through this all-important first
day. The girl repeated her name and Elizabeth knew she would eventually remember it, but not
today. Shit, the way she was going she couldn’t remember where she was supposed to be this
afternoon.

Since returning from Maui she had been restless, forgetful, distracted, and downright spacy.
What was supposed to be relaxing and invigorating had ended up being just the opposite. She
felt more drained now than before she left.

She knew what the problem was but didn’t admit it to anyone. She had put on a false bravado,
talking about her vacation in glorious terms but never alluding to the heartbreak she endured.
The only person she couldn’t fool was Diane, who had called her on it the minute the words
were out of her mouth.

“You’re full of shit, Elizabeth.”

“I beg your pardon?” They were having dinner at Rombasto’s, their favorite Italian restaurant,
and the back-to-school crowd was noisy. Diane had been busy with her mother’s recovery, and
this was their first opportunity to get together. Elizabeth was still in her work clothes, and her
feet hurt from being cramped in heels all day. She had lost weight since Maui, but her skirt and
suit jacket still felt confining. She ached for shorts and flip-flops.

“You heard me. Your sappy, happy stories may work on the people at school, but I see right
through them. What really happened? And don’t tell me ‘nothing.’” Diane pointed her fork at her.

Elizabeth didn’t know where to begin. Diane knew about Colby, or at least what little Elizabeth
had shared with her. She’d been evading the real discussion with Diane when they talked on the
phone. But now she couldn’t, with her sitting across the table. How could she explain that she
had fallen in love with the surgeon turned surf instructor?

The words sounded as ridiculous in her head as they would if she said them out loud. For crying
out loud, she was single, on vacation in paradise, and she fell for a local beauty. How pathetic
did that sound? Sure, she had been due for some physical connection and a vacation fling was
perfect, but to end up in love with her? That was out of the realm of even what she would have
expected.

Her heart, on the other hand, wasn’t listening. Night after night as she lay awake, remembering
the feel of Colby’s body under her, the touch of her hand, the scent of her skin, she had tried to

persuade herself to get on the first plane back to the island.

During dessert, Diane told her that if she was in love with Colby to go get her. She even told
her to drag her back to Essington and damn the consequences. But in the harsh light of day
Elizabeth realized just how stupid and careless that would be. Colby didn’t love her, couldn’t
love her, wouldn’t allow herself to be loved.

The line in the security screening area snaked around the stanchions like the lines at
Disneyland. Her patience wasn’t what it used to be and, with the speed of this line, she wouldn’t
get to her gate for at least another thirty minutes. She had no luggage. Why wasn’t there a line
for people who didn’t have any carry-on crap that needed to be scanned? All she had was her
wallet, her ticket, and a prayer that this wouldn’t be a wasted trip.

Will she see me? Has she moved on? Hell, will she even open the door? The questions
bounced around in her head as the line crawled forward. She showed her identification and
boarding pass, then had to wait in the line behind a woman with twins trying to go through the
metal detector. Because she had made her reservation last night and had checked no luggage,
she was subject to an additional security check. The TSA officer was friendly but professional
as she ran her hands over her body, searching for anything that shouldn’t be there. Finally, after
what felt like forever, she was walking down the concourse to her departure gate.

The flight was long, made especially so by the delay on the tarmac in Houston where she had
changed planes. According to the pilot they were fifteenth in line on the runway and hadn’t
moved when he came on ten minutes later, again informing them that due to weather it would
be another thirty minutes until they were cleared to take off.

The only thing that did go right was that there was no line at the taxi stand. She gave the
address to the driver and sat back for the final leg of her journey. It had been a hard one. The
last month had been filled with misery, doubt, and hours of reflection. Was she willing to
completely change her life? What would her friends think? What would her family say?

Her hand was shaking and she hesitated before she knocked. Was she ready for this? Was
she ready to be rejected again? Was she ready to be loved? Was she ready to make this
commitment? She raised her hand, her knuckles connecting with the white door. A voice behind
the door told her to hang on. She wasn’t sure how long she could. The door opened and she
lost all breath. Shock filled the face looking right at her. She held her breath and the world
stopped.

This was it. The most pivotal moment of her life up to this point. The most important seconds of
the rest of her life.

“If you tell me to go away, I will.”

Elizabeth’s beaming smile told Colby all she needed to know.