HE WHARF ATB lowing Point was bustling with activity. Two catamarans flying brightly colored flags and loaded with tourists were pulling away from the dock, and more tourists were lined up to board the regular ferry that ran back and forth between Anguilla and St. Maarten at half-hour intervals.

Mitchell found a parking space near the far end of the wharf where the boat he had chartered was tied up, its captain standing on the bow, smoking a cigarette. “I hope Max is as willing to follow you onto a boat as he was to follow you into a car,” he said, opening Kate’s door and helping her out. Leaning into the backseat, he picked up the end of the dog’s makeshift leash. “He’s shaking all over.”

“He’s nervous,” Kate said sympathetically. Patting the side of her leg, she called, “Come here, Max, let’s—”

The big dog erupted from the backseat in a frenzied leap that nearly knocked her over. Laughing, she staggered backward, recovered her balance, and reached for his leash.

“Let me hold on to that until we get him on the boat,” Mitchell said. Wrapping the end of the necktie-leash around his hand for better control, he tightened his grip; but he needn’t have worried, because once the dog’s feet were firmly on the ground, Max sidled up next to Kate and trotted happily beside her. “Have you always been able to tame wild beasts, or is Max an exception?” Mitchell asked half seriously.

“Max isn’t completely wild,” Kate said, scratching Max behind his ears. “He may have been running loose his whole life, but he likes humans, which means that he was around someone who played with him and handled him when he was a little puppy. If that weren’t true—if he hadn’t been ‘socialized’ back then—he wouldn’t want anything to do with us now.” She shot Mitchell an apologetic look and explained, “My best friend and former roommate is a vet.”

They reached Mitchell’s chartered boat, and Kate’s attention turned to the task of getting Max aboard. “Let me get on first,” she said. Taking the captain’s outstretched hand, she stepped off the dock into the boat’s stern; then she turned and patted the side of her leg as she had before. “Come on, Max,” she called.

Max backed up, body trembling with fright, but just as Kate decided they would have to lift him aboard, he gave a giant leap forward and landed against her legs, knocking her into the captain, who grabbed her arms to steady her.

“So far, this has been easier than I expected,” Mitchell remarked, stepping down into the boat.

“Easier on you, not me,” Kate laughed, dusting dog hair off her jeans.

Mitchell chuckled at her quip and walked over to the railing to stand beside her, trapping the dog between them. The captain started the engine and Mitchell angled sideways, idly watching her long ponytail shifting in the breeze as the pier slid away and the boat picked up speed.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked.

Mitchell was staring at her because she had the greenest eyes, the smoothest skin, and the most beautiful mouth of any woman he’d ever known. And, if her tender devotion to a stray mongrel was any indication, she also had the softest heart. He was thoroughly enchanted with all her attributes except the last one. For some reason, that one made him feel vaguely, inexplicably uneasy. “I was thinking that you have a beautiful smile,” he replied, then he turned toward the railing and leaned his forearms on it, watching the boat’s churning wake spread into a wide V.

The unexpected compliment filled Kate with pleasure, but since he hadn’t sounded entirely pleased—or convincing—when he answered her question, she decided not to reply.

Ten minutes later, as they neared St. Maarten, the captain finally broke the silence. “Are either of you folks fans of Zack Benedict, the movie actor?” he called.

When Mitchell said nothing, Kate looked over her shoulder at the captain. “I’m a huge fan of his.”

“That’s Benedict’s boat over there,” the captain told her, pointing off to the left at a gleaming white motor yacht riding at anchor inside the harbor. “It’s called theJulie. ”

“Then it’s named after his wife,” Kate explained to Mitchell as she admired the graceful lines of her favorite movie star’s boat.

“Some tourists told me they saw Benedict aboard this morning, reading a newspaper,” the captain provided. “Do you want me to take you over there? I can get you in real close, and you could get a look at him if he’s on deck.”

“No,” Mitchell said emphatically at the same time Kate said politely, “No thank you.”

Startled by his forceful reply, Kate looked curiously at him. “You aren’t a Zack Benedict fan?”

His brow furrowed and an inexplicable smile edged his mouth while he appeared to give her question grave consideration. “I can’t, in good conscience, describe myself to you as Zack Benedict’s fan,” he said finally. “However,” he added, “I’d be interested in hearing why you’re such a ‘huge fan’ of his.”

Kate thought he was being condescending, but she refused to back down from her statement. “I admire him even more as a person than as a movie star,” she explained very firmly. “Men thought he was ultra-macho when he escaped from prison a few years ago and took Julie Mathison hostage, but women all over the world fell madly in love with him when he forgave her for leading him into a trap and getting him recaptured. When he went back to the small town she lived in and asked her to marry him, half the women in America were in tears when they saw the news clips of how he did it.”

“Were you in tears?” Mitchell asked, turning fully toward her.

“Of course.”

“You sound like a hopeless romantic.”

“I probably am,” she admitted.

“She betrayed him,” Mitchell reminded her. “If the real murderer hadn’t been found, Zack Benedict would still be rotting in prison because he trusted her when he escaped and she betrayed him.”

“You aren’t very forgiving, are you?”

“Let’s just say I’m not a romantic.”

Although he sounded very sure of that, as Kate looked at his handsome face, she considered some of his actions the night before and arrived at her own conclusion. Smiling a little, she turned away from him and gazed at Zack Benedict’s yacht instead.

“What was that all about?” he asked with amused curiosity.

“I was deciding for myself whether you’re a romantic.”

“What did you decide?”

“I think you are.”

“And you think you can tell things about me by looking into my eyes?”

Kate nodded in the affirmative, but her answer was a little shaky. “I really, really hope so.”

Mitchell suppressed a grin at her uneasy tone and toyed with the idea of surprising her tomorrow by taking her aboard Zack’s boat and explaining that he knew both Zack and Julie well, and that he liked Julie. At the moment, however, he wasn’t inclined to say anything that would lead to a prolonged discussion of her favorite romantic hero, and he didn’t want to commit himself to any plan other than going to bed with her.