Gentle Persuasion. Cerella Sechrist

      She raised her glass of water. “Then here’s to your week of island adventures.”

      Ophelia thought it a strange toast, but she clinked her glass next to Leilani’s and then took a sip.

      “I’m glad you’re here,” Leilani said. “It will be good for Dane.”

      Ophelia couldn’t be sure what Leilani meant by that and decided perhaps it was safer not to ask.

      * * *

      DANE WAITED RATHER anxiously for Ophelia Reid to appear in the inn’s dining room the following morning. Keahi filled a large plate with stacks of golden macadamia nut waffles slathered in coconut syrup while Pele listened to Leilani chattering about her time kayaking at Kealakekua Bay the day before. Dane sipped from his coffee and made occasional attempts to read the newspaper, but with each slight noise, he would glance up, expecting to see Ophelia enter the room.

      He attributed this edginess to Ms. Reid’s agenda—the last thing he wished to deal with was a pushy recruiter making the same offers he’d heard dozens of times in the past three years. But deep down, he had the uneasy feeling that Ophelia’s proposal wasn’t the only reason his gaze kept wandering to the dining room doorway.

      He was sending just such a glance toward the entry when she finally appeared. The sight of her caused a tingling of interest along his nerves, but he forced himself to greet her casually with an offhand, “Good morning.”

      He noted with a frown that she was not much more suitably dressed than the day before. Her pale green button-down shirt and knee-length black skirt flattered her figure immensely but reinforced the impression of her professional image. Dane didn’t much like the reminder, even if he did admire the long length of her calves as she crossed the room.

      He forced himself to look away, returning to his papers, though he couldn’t find where he’d left off in the article he’d been reading. He finally placed the page aside and looked up, catching Ophelia’s eye. She offered a friendly smile, which ignited a warmth in his stomach. He found it a difficult endeavor to tear his gaze away from her.

      “Are those waffles?” she questioned as she pulled out a chair.

      “Macadamia nut,” Keahi offered around a mouthful of food. He shoved the platter her way before introducing himself. “I’m Keahi, the boss’s right-hand man.” He stood and reached across the table to offer the hand he had just mentioned.

      She took it before seating herself across from Leilani and to Dane’s right. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Ophelia.”

      “Keahi is my plantation manager,” Dane felt the need to elaborate.

      “Would you like some sausage?” Leilani extended the plate.

      Ophelia nodded and took a link. “Everything looks delicious, Pele.”

      Pele didn’t utter a sound of acknowledgment but moved around the table to begin mounding several spoonfuls of fresh fruit onto Ophelia’s plate.

      “Tutu loves to cook. It’s part of her nurturing spirit,” Leilani informed.

      Dane cocked his head in curiosity. “Ophelia, you haven’t met Leilani yet, have you?”

      Both girls flushed with what looked like guilt to him. He studied them more closely.

      “Have you?” he pressed.

      “Of course not,” Ophelia spoke up and then reached across the table to extend her hand. “Leilani, you must be in charge of reception and bookings. You probably spoke to my assistant, Holly, on the phone on Friday.”

      “Miss Reid, of course.”

      “Please, call me Ophelia.”

      They looked way too conspiratorial for two people who had just met. He glanced at Pele, but she was busy pouring Ophelia a glass of juice and didn’t notice the exchange. And then, as one, the two younger women turned to look at him. He had the strangest feeling of being left out of something, and he didn’t much like it. When he gave no reaction, they turned back to each other.

      “And what are your plans for your stay, Ophelia? I believe your assistant said you were on a business trip?” Leilani questioned.

      “Yes, I’m actually here to present your boss with an offer to return to the mainland. As the Creative Marketing Director of Towers Resorts International.”

      “Towers Resorts? Aren’t they opening a resort in Waikiki?” Keahi questioned.

      Ophelia nodded in acknowledgment. “Yes, among a few others. It’s part of an ongoing expansion project. However, Bianca Towers, who inherited the company following her uncle’s death, is striving for a new image, and she’d like your boss to lead the way for her.”

      “He’s retired,” Pele flatly informed.

      Dane said nothing and waited for Ophelia’s response.

      “I understand, but your boss was the best the business world has seen in terms of innovation and success in the advertising and marketing field. It’s why he still receives offers, even three years into his retirement.”

      She slid a glance his way, but he refused to react to this praise. He had heard the same drivel spouted endlessly for years—it failed to penetrate anymore. He was proud of his previous successes, but he felt driven by his newest challenge—cultivating coffee. Ophelia spoke of his old life, and he was only interested in the new.

      Leilani, however, looked at him with a curious gaze. “Is that true? Were you really as good as she says?”

      He reached for his coffee. “Headhunters exaggerate.”

      “Recruiters,” Ophelia corrected, and he felt gratified by the way her jaw tightened on the word, “focus on potential.”

      “Well, my potential has been refocused. Here. To this plantation.”

      She met his gaze with a determined one of her own. “Perhaps you’d like to hear the terms of the proposal before you dismiss it out of hand?”

      “After breakfast,” Dane relented, knowing he’d have to at least look at the offer. She wouldn’t give up until he did, and they might as well get the formalities out of the way so he could focus on running his plantation. “Deal,” Ophelia declared, the one word causing him to cringe as if it indicated he’d agreed to the contract.

      Ophelia must have noticed his reaction because she frowned. “My suite is beautiful,” she said, as if this one compliment could make up for her being here.

      “Ms. Reid—”

      “Ophelia,” she again corrected.

      “Ophelia,” he repeated with a nod in her direction, “is staying in the Liliuokalani suite.”

      “Without a husband,” Pele tacked on as she settled into her own seat.

      “I believe Lili-uo-kalani,” Ophelia pronounced the name with care, “was a forward-thinking lady, was she not? Surely she would approve of a single woman renting a suite that bears her name.”

      Pele clucked her tongue. “What do you know of Liliuokalani?”

      Ophelia’s grin seemed slightly smug, Dane thought. “I know she reigned as Hawaii’s last sovereign before the monarchy was overthrown around the turn of the previous century. She became queen following her brother’s death. David Kalakaua—am I saying that right?—who had named her his successor when he had no children to inherit the throne. A terrible injustice, the way she was imprisoned in Iolani Palace for a year and then later forced to abdicate. It is a fitting name for such a lovely suite, by the way.”

      Dane stared at Ophelia following this unexpected flow of information. His gaze shifted to find Pele’s eyes narrowed to slits but then she gave a nod of approval. “You should eat more. You’re too skinny.”

      Pele moved to pile another