Just Another Day in Paradise. Justine Davis

And when she’d begun to chatter about the improvements to the schoolhouse, as if desperate for any diversion, he’d been sure of it. She was as rattled as he was.

      He should be fine now, he argued to himself as he closed the suite door behind him. They’d talked it out, it was over, time to move on. He still felt utterly responsible for what had happened that night—he supposed there were worse things than kissing and pawing a distraught widow, though it was surely one of the worst things he’d ever done—but was at least relieved to know that she didn’t hate him or blame him.

      He pulled off his shirt and tossed it over the back of a chair. He should be exhausted; his day had become a marathon. But instead he felt strangely wired. He kicked off his shoes, then looked at the stocked minibar consideringly. He was more inclined to put on his running shoes and go out for a late-night jog. But he decided against it; his memory for plans and layouts was good, and there was nearly a full moon, but he’d only physically been here once before, and inadvertently running off a cliff wasn’t his idea of a good way to end a day that had already been trying enough.

      He resorted to pouring a small amount of Amaretto into a glass, then wandered out onto the lanai. From here he could just see the overlook, where he and Paige had stood. He sat down on the edge of one of the chaises, then gave in to the lure, swung his legs up and leaned back. He had a lot to do in the next few days, but for now, just for now…

      He woke up in the same place the next morning feeling more rested than he had in days. He wondered if it was the balmy outdoor air, the Amaretto or the simple fact that a large load had been removed from his conscience.

      This island, Paige thought as she walked along the immaculate beach, watching the lap of tiny waves on the sand and the break of larger swells far beyond on the reef, had never seemed so small before. You’d think in nearly a thousand acres—and when you spent half your day in a single room with twenty-six kids—you wouldn’t run into one person quite so often. But she seemed to have run into Noah Rider quite a bit in the past two days. True, it was a weekend, and once she’d graded some essays and corrected some math papers she’d had the rest of Saturday and now all of Sunday free to wander, but she’d never seen any one person as often and in as many places as she’d seen him.

      So maybe it was just that he was everywhere. Anywhere there was a problem he showed up. And from what she’d heard from other staff, he managed it without stepping on any toes or coming off as the big cheese so many had expected.

      Paige wasn’t surprised at that. Not after the gentle, kind way he’d dealt with her in her time of need. Tact was something he clearly had in abundance. She supposed it was a requirement to reach the level he had.

      And she had to admit that the times she had seen him hadn’t been difficult, if you didn’t count her own silly anticipation anxiety. He was acting just as she would have wished, treating her just like everyone else.

      And if she didn’t completely like that, it was her problem. She could not—would not—make it his, too.

      She glimpsed some activity down the beach, a gathering of people and a small boat in the water. She headed that way, curious. She knew at this late date, so close to the scheduled opening, there was no such thing as a weekend off, so whatever it was had to be related to the resort. She was still about fifty feet away when she heard the sound of a motor, and the people gathered began to back away from the boat. She saw a flash of bright colors, red, blue and yellow, and it was a moment before she realized what it was.

      And then it became obvious as the colors billowed up into an arc of fabric that then soared into the air. Parasailing, she thought, and in that instant the passenger, attached by lines that seemed too insubstantial to her unpracticed eye, soared upward.

      It was Noah.

      She stared, certain she must have seen wrong, but she knew deep down she hadn’t. She couldn’t mistake his size, his solid build, and the economy of movement that had been one of the first things she’d ever noticed about him.

      But why on earth? Surely this wasn’t required of him. Did he really carry his oversight so far as to risk his neck trying out the recreational offerings? He had to be hundreds of feet up by now.

      Although she had to admit, as she came up to the group of spectators, it did look exciting. Very. It looked, in fact, awfully close to flying, and she wondered if it felt like that, too.

      She noticed Miranda among the watchers, and the woman smiled and walked over to her.

      “My boy can’t wait to try that.”

      Paige grimaced. “I’m sure Kyle will want to do it, too. In fact, I’m surprised he’s not here.”

      “I saw him earlier, talking to Lani over by the pool.”

      Paige smiled. “Well, that should keep him happy for a while.”

      She knew Kyle was taken with the exotically lovely island girl whose family had lived here for generations. Her mother had died at Lani DeSouza’s birth, but her father had been there for her all her life, and Paige knew the girl loved him dearly. That father had also been the local population’s representative at the time Redstone had bought the island a decade ago. He had been a persuasive voice then, and, she’d heard, a shrewd bargainer. And a wise one. The people all agreed, because so far Joshua Redstone had kept every promise he’d made, including a school that would accept every child on the island.

      And Lani was as clever as her father. She was a pleasure to have in class, absorbing every bit of knowledge Paige provided her with an eagerness that made Paige regret the years she’d been away from teaching, although she knew students like Lani were rare. She was secretly delighted that Kyle was interested in the bright, sweet-natured girl. Of course he was far too young to be serious, but Lani couldn’t help but be a good influence on him. She hoped he would follow the girl’s lead; Lani could hardly wait until this summer, when she hoped to work as one of the many personal assistants, or PAs that Redstone hired to help all their guests with any and everything, from scuba diving the reef to nature hikes to finding a book in the small but well-stocked library.

      “Now there’s a man,” Miranda said as the boat maneuvered to bring its airborne passenger back to the beach, “to keep a woman happy.”

      Paige nearly blushed, then silently called herself an idiot—from now on he worked for the same company she did, that’s all, she told herself.

      “Mr. Rider?” she asked, trying for an innocent tone.

      “I sure didn’t mean ol’ Rudy,” Miranda said with a grin, nodding toward the round, bald, very tanned head of the executive chef.

      Paige giggled in spite of herself. “I don’t know. He’s kind of cute, in a grandfatherly sort of way.”

      “Well, he does make a mean fricassee, I’ll give him that,” Miranda said.

      Paige knew Rudy Aubert had been at a large five-star hotel for years, but had jumped at the chance to oversee this smaller but no less exclusive operation. And, judging by his tan, he was soaking up island life in a big hurry.

      Unlike herself, she thought, always checking that she wasn’t inadvertently exposing unscreened skin to the sun that was so deadly for her fair complexion. On this lovely day she wore leggings and a long-sleeved, gauzy blouse. Even then she’d had to put sunscreen on, knowing she could burn through the fabric if she spent too much time—for her that meant anything over half an hour—out in the sun.

      “So, how long have you known him?”

      Paige blinked. “Mr. Rider?” Miranda gave her a look that reminded her of the way she sometimes looked at Kyle when he didn’t—or refused to—see the obvious.

      “Oh.” She glanced over to where Rider was now safely ashore and getting out of the harness. He was grinning widely and then he laughed, clearly exhilarated. She turned back to Miranda and said carefully, “What makes you think I’ve ever met him before he got here?”

      The look was even worse this time. “Oh, maybe because