oing to the beach?" Marsh asked as he came into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. Bright morning sunlight streamed in through the window.

Leila was wearing a short filmy sundress over her bathing suit. It was a two piece, in a bright blue-and-green pattern that was clearly visible underneath the white, gauzy fabric of her dress.

"Good guess," she said, then drained her glass of juice.

"Simon up yet?" He leaned against the kitchen counter as he looked at Leila over the edge of his coffee cup.

Leila shot him a look, implying that his question was a ridiculous one.

"Right," Marsh said. "He's still asleep."

She turned to pick up her beach bag and a towel.

"Mind if I tag along?" Marsh asked. "You know, to the beach?"

Surprised, Leila turned to look at him. He was wearing his bathing suit, too, she realized. Funny, she'd just assumed he'd be going in to his office.

"I'm taking some time off," he told her, as if he could read her mind. "Of course, I'm on call for emergencies, but I'm taking the next few weeks easy. I have no scheduled appointments today. Tomorrow I'm only going in for a half day, and the day after I'm off again."

He was watching her, and his eyes were positively warm. In fact, Leila felt if she looked at him for too long, she just might spontaneously combust.

"That's … nice," she said.

His bathing suit was neon orange with a funky black pattern. It had to be one of Simon's since most of Marsh's clothes had been destroyed in the fire, she remembered. Still, it looked good on him. It was short and showed off his long, muscular, tanned legs. He had nice legs—and she was staring at them, she realized suddenly.

She glanced up into his face again, only to find that his eyes were taking their own leisurely stroll up and down her legs.

Leila turned away, afraid he would see the expression on her face. She knew that she couldn't hide the sudden wave of longing she felt—or the surprise she felt at the odd sensation of wanting.

That ninja and his high-voltage kisses had really thrown her emotions out of whack. If she was driven to staring at Marsh Devlin's legs—nice as they might be—she was in worse shape than she'd thought.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Leila led the way down the steps from the deck and onto the beach. The sand was warm and felt delicious beneath her bare toes. She stopped walking to luxuriate in the sensation. Boy, she loved it there on Sunrise Key's gorgeous beach.

Seabirds danced and floated on the cool breeze that was coming in directly off the sparkling blue-green Gulf water. The sky was the perfect shade of blue, with puffy white clouds that looked as if they had been drawn there. Sunlight was reflecting off the pure white sand.

"It's so beautiful here," she said with a sigh. "Like paradise."

Marsh nodded. He was watching her again.

"Did you really turn down a high-paying job in Boston in order to live here?"

He drew a line in the sand with his toe. "Is that really so strange?"

"How could you just turn your back on all that money?"

"How could I not?"

Leila stared out at the ocean, more affected than she would have thought possible by the simplicity of his answer.

"The people I care most about in the world all live down here," Marsh said. "Well, most of them, anyway. And like you said, it's paradise."

Leila still didn't speak, didn't move.

"Besides," Marsh continued. "Six-figure salaries are way overrated."

She looked at him then. "You still believe that? Even though you're currently living hand-to-mouth?"

Marsh winced. "Ah, yes. I did mention something about that last night, didn't I?"

"Simon says your account books are a mess. Will you let me take a look at them?"

"You're supposed to be on vacation," Marsh said.

"You're helping me with my wild goose chase." She started walking again, heading across the wide beach toward the lounge chairs that were near the edge of the water. "Let me help you, too."

"I don't think this is a wild goose chase." Marsh followed her. "You know, finding your ninja. I think it's a good idea."

"You do." The sea breeze lifted the edge of her skirt, and Marsh's eyes followed.

"I'd just like to know one thing. Have you thought any more about what you intend to do if you actually find him?"

"Best-case scenario?" Leila asked, and he nodded. "With any luck, he'll be awful, and that'll burst the whole fantasy bubble. Then I can get on with my life."

"Marry Elliot, in other words."

"Yeah," Leila said. "Maybe I'll marry Elliot."

Marsh was silent for a moment, and all Leila could hear was the sound their feet made in the sand.

"What if the bubble isn't burst?" he asked. "What then?"

Leila shook her head. "I'm still not sure," she admitted.

"Come on. What's the best-case scenario if your ninja isn't awful?" Marsh persisted.

"You mean, if he's perfect?" Leila smiled. "He's perfect, he's madly in love with me, and he asks me—on the spot—to marry him. I, of course, accept, recognizing my true destiny when I see it."

Marsh frowned slightly. "What if…" He cleared his throat. "What if he's not truly perfect? I mean, what if he's slightly less than perfect? Well, no, what I really mean is, what if he's a whole lot less than perfect, but he still loves you madly, and all that? I mean, no one's ever truly perfect…"

"What I meant was, if he's perfect for me." Leila put her bag on one of the lounge chairs. "You're extremely interested in all this, aren't you?"

"I'm concerned you'll do something that you'll end up regretting."

Leila pulled her sundress over her head. "Well, that's sweet, but I seriously doubt that finding this ninja is something I'm going to regret."

"I meant marrying Elliot."

He was watching her again, and Leila checked her bathing suit to make sure it was covering everything it was supposed to. Of course, there was nothing she had that he hadn't already seen. He was a doctor, for crying out loud. Still, the look in his eyes was appreciative and extremely male.

"You look terrific," Marsh said. "New suit?"

"Thanks." Leila sat down on her chair and fished through her beach bag for her sunglasses and sunblock. "Yeah, it's new."

"I like it." His approval warmed his already rich voice.

It was odd, but Leila couldn't remember the last time she'd been to the beach with Marsh. She'd been returning to the island just about every six months or so for years and years—there must've been at least one time they both went to the beach and…

Marsh sat down in the other chair and pulled off his T-shirt. And Leila knew for certain that she hadn't been to the beach with him in a very long time. Probably not since he was in college and she was in high school. Because she remembered him as a skinny kid, all ribs and shoulder blades and collarbones and elbows. But the person sitting next to her was neither skinny nor a kid. He was a man. He had muscles—tan, smooth, well-defined muscles. He even had hair on his chest.

Marsh took a pair of round mirror-lensed sunglasses from his fanny pack and put them on. His hair was a mess from pulling his shirt over his head, and the ocean breeze made it dance charmingly around his face, blowing a stray lock into his eyes and then sweeping it away. He smiled at her, one of his rare, relaxed grins, and the combination made him look about as much unlike the Marshall Devlin she thought she knew as possible. In fact, he looked like the kind of guy that, if she saw him across the room at a party, she'd pressure her host into introducing to her. His gaze locked with hers over the top of his sunglasses. Instant heat.

"Mind if I borrow your sunblock?" She handed him the bottle. His fingers brushed hers and she nearly dropped it, shocked by the sudden sensation of electricity. What was going on?

"Why aren't you married?" she asked him, suddenly.

"Well, you lost me there. Usually I can follow your insane conversational tangents, but this one got away from me."

"You're a good-looking man," Leila said bluntly. "On top of that, you're a doctor. So why hasn't some smart woman hooked you and reeled you in, like some giant, prize catch?"

"Good Lord, you make it sound so appealing."

"I know why Simon isn't married," Leila said. "It's because he's still a child. And as long as he can manage to attract his sweet-young-things-du-jour, he's never going to settle down. But you're the type of guy who wants the whole package, you know, wife and kids, two-car garage, Irish setter named Sparky…?"

Marsh carefully applied sunblock to his shoulders and neck. Leila had the feeling that he was deciding how much—or which version—of the truth to tell her.

"You're right. I want all that. I'm just not thoroughly convinced that it's an attainable goal." He looked out at the water, squinting despite his sunglasses. "I don't know how much you know about me," he added, glancing back at Leila, "but when I was about six, my parents went through a divorce. It was … bad."

My God, Leila realized. He was telling her the truth. He was actually opening up—a little—to her.

He looked at her again. "Actually, it wasn't bad, it was bloody awful. My mother was nearly destroyed. I don't think she ever really recovered. And I couldn't figure out what went wrong." He shook his head. "Up to the point they split up, they seemed so much in love. But they couldn't make it work."

Leila didn't know whether to stay silent and hope that he continued talking, or to urge him to tell her more. He was quiet for so long, she finally spoke. "I know divorce statistics are high, but some people still have marriages that last. It's not impossible, Marsh."

He took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. "I just keep thinking, if my parents couldn't do it, how can I?"

"Because you're not your parents."

"Thank goodness for that." Marsh smiled at her. It was a rueful smile, but still it made her feel as if the laws of gravity were temporarily suspended.

"Yo, Marsh!"

Leila and Marsh looked up to see Simon jogging toward them from the house. "Ben Sullivan just called. He needs you out at his place pronto. He's got an emergency."

"Human or other?" Marsh asked, already pulling on his T-shirt.

"Other." Simon's hair was standing straight up and he wore only a colorful pair of boxer shorts. It was clear he'd rolled directly out of bed to deliver this message. "One of his broodmares has the worst case of colic he's ever seen. He apologized all over the place for interrupting your vacation, but he's tried everything, and he's desperate. I told him you'd be right there."

"Care to come along for the ride?" Marsh asked Leila as he slipped his feet into his sneakers.

"It depends," she said dryly. "Are we going to start arguing about having the windows up or down the minute I get into your car?"

"My car was in the garage under the house when it burned."

"Oh, no." Leila cringed.

"Oh, yes. I rode my bike in to the office that day. I've been borrowing Simon's jeep until the insurance money comes through. The jeep has no doors, therefore it has no windows, and nothing we can argue about. If we get desperate, I suppose we could argue about which radio station to listen to."

"Let me grab a pair of shorts and my sneakers," Leila said.

"You're going?" Simon asked. "With Dev?" Simon looked surprised.

Marsh looked impatient. He grabbed Leila by the shoulders and gently pushed her toward the house.

"Hurry. Get your things. I'll be out front."

Why was she going to the Sullivan's with Marsh? Simon was still staring at her as if she'd undergone some kind of bizarre personality change. "It's been ages since I've seen Nancy Sullivan," Leila explained.

"Go," Marsh said.

She went.

Leila leaned against the rough-hewn door to the big barn, watching Marsh examine Ben Sullivan's mare.

The horse was clearly in agony, but Marsh touched it gently, talking to it in a calm, soothing voice.

"Gee, I wish he'd talk to me like that," Nancy Sullivan said, coming up behind her. "But no, the man's a walking ice cube. It's that British chilliness, you know?"

"Hey, there you are." Leila smiled. "Your brother said you were around here somewhere."

"That's me. Always around here somewhere. Long time, no see, stranger."

"Yeah, it's been at least a year," Leila said. "You look great. How are you?"

In the barn, Marsh and Ben stripped off their T-shirts and kicked off their sneakers.

"Uh-oh." Nancy pulled Leila out into the yard. "They're going for the hose. This is not going to be pretty … despite Dr. Devlin's obvious physical attributes. Is that man gorgeous, or what?"

Leila looked at Marsh, trying to see him through Nancy's eyes. He was gorgeous, with all that tanned skin and those gleaming muscles. But what had Nancy said about him—he was a walking ice cube? Two days ago, Leila would have agreed. But lately he seemed to be 100 percent hot-blooded. Was it possible that the fire that burned down his house had somehow thawed him out? Or was she simply seeing him in a different light?

"Let's get out of here before they ask us to help." Nancy tugged at her arm.

"What are they gonna do?"

Briefly, Nancy ran down the medical procedure for relieving the mare's colic, and Leila's eyes widened.

"That doesn't sound like much fun for the horse or the doctor." She glanced into the barn. Since when did Marsh get down in the dust and dirt—soon to be mud, what with the water from the hose—while he played Dr. Dolittle to an equine patient? This was a man who had graduated at the top of his class from Harvard Medical School.

He was also, apparently, a man who got more value from helping his friends—one of whom was Ben Sullivan—than from earning scads of money.

"Let's make some lemonade," Nancy suggested. "Something tells me Ben and Marsh are going to need it when this is over."

"Lemonade … and a shower." Leila followed her friend into the kitchen, unable to keep from looking back over her shoulder at the barn.

"So are you and the good doctor an item these days?" Nancy asked casually as she took a bag of lemons from the refrigerator.

She and Marsh? An item? "Oh, no," Leila said hastily. "No, no. He's staying up at our house. You know, since the fire?"

"Yeah, that was a shame, huh? I heard he lost everything, even his car. Grab a knife and help me with these, will you?"

Obediently, Leila began slicing the lemons that Nancy washed and put out on the cutting board.

"I also heard," Nancy continued, "that Marsh's homeowner's insurance won't cover the cost of rebuilding his place. There's some legal glitch. He's about fifty thousand short."

"That can't be right."

"You're the math expert," Nancy said. "You should talk to Marsh about it. Apparently, on top of everything else, he's having trouble getting a loan for that fifty thousand from the bank. Ever since our little savings and loan got bought out by that big corporate bank, people are getting turned down for loans left and right. Can you imagine? The town doctor refused a mortgage because he's not solvent enough." She was silent for a moment, shaking her head. "Let me tell you, there's hardly anyone in town who doesn't owe Marshall Devlin money. If he called in all of his loans and got tough with his accounts receivable, he'd be solvent enough, believe me. But he'll never do that. Not while times are so tough."

Nancy started talking about the Kavanaugh's new baby, but Leila's mind was still on Marsh. Simon had hinted that Marsh's books needed an overhaul, but he hadn't said anything about problems with the insurance company or loans being turned down by the bank. That was bad. That was really bad. If he needed help, why hadn't he simply asked?

The sound of the outside shower going on caught Nancy's attention, and she put the pitcher of lemonade and four tall glasses on a tray. "Grab a couple of towels from the hall closet," she ordered Leila as she carried the tray out onto the wide, wraparound porch.

The screen door squeaked as Leila pushed it open. She walked across the dusty drive to the outside of the barn, carrying two thick towels in her arms. Marsh was standing under an outdoor spigot, letting the water cascade over his head.

He stood back slightly, pushing the hair out of his eyes and caught sight of Leila watching him. He smiled a greeting.

"Is the mare okay?"

"She's not too happy with us right now." Marsh let the water rinse the rest of the mud and muck from his body. "But I think she's feeling a little better."

He shut off the faucet and wiped the water from his hair and face with his hands. Leila held out one of the towels, but he didn't take it right away. He stood for a moment and dripped, smiling at her.

Standing there with sparkling beads of water running from his hair down his broad shoulders and strong, muscular arms, it was easy to see why Nancy Sullivan found Marsh so attractive. He was attractive. But even more attractive than his obvious physical attributes was his intense pleasure at a job well done. As unpleasant as treating a horse with colic might be, Marsh truly enjoyed the fact that he'd been able to help.

"I don't know you very well at all, do I?" Leila said as he finally took the towel from her hands.

He was drying his face, but her words made him pause and look up at her.

"I had no idea you subbed for the veterinarian when he was off the island." Leila hung the second towel on a hook near the shower.

"The local vet retired two years ago. If the vet from the mainland can't get over here—and he usually can't, it's a three-hour round-trip for him—I'm the closest thing to a vet there is on Sunrise Key."

"And you've been doing this for two years?"

Marsh smiled. "I'm pretty good with horses and dogs. Chickens and pigs, however, continue to be something of a challenge."

"I'm amazed," Leila said.

"I've actually taken a few of those college courses in veterinary medicine. You know, the courses that link you to the professor via cable television. It's fascinating stuff, Leila. And I truly love working with the horses—even at times like this, when it can get rather nasty. Say, did you know I've learned to ride?"

"No."

"It's indescribable. Incredible. Riding on the beach, it's like flying, only better." He smiled sheepishly as he dried the back of his neck with the towel. "You probably think I've gone absolutely mad."

"No, I don't." Leila laughed, shaking her head. "I'm just surprised. I didn't think you got this passionate about anything."

Marsh's smile faded and he turned slightly away from her.

"I didn't mean—"

"Yes, you did mean it." His voice was gentle, contradicting the harshness of his words. "But like you said, you don't know me very well."

Embarrassed, Leila looked down at the puddle of water that would surely evaporate quickly in the warm sunshine. "I'm sorry," she said.

He touched her gently underneath her chin, lifting her head so that she was looking directly into his eyes.

"The fact is, there're quite a few things I'm passionate about. Riding horses, delivering healthy babies, good salsa music, my American grandmother's chocolate chip cookies, old Hitchcock movies, making love…" His gaze dropped languidly to Leila's mouth. "Especially making love."

He looked back into Leila's eyes and she knew he was going to kiss her. Her heart flipped in her chest as he leaned closer—

"Ready for a glass of lemonade, y'all?" Ben Sullivan asked, coming out of the barn. "I'll join you on the porch, after I hose down here. Stand aside, Doc, and let me get under this shower."

Marsh let go of Leila, and she quickly turned away, heading for the porch and Nancy—and safety.

Oh, God, had she actually almost kissed Marsh Devlin? She and Marsh argued and fought. They didn't talk about personal things like passion and making love, and they sure as hell didn't kiss. Sure, sparks flew when they were together, but they were sparks that flared and burned out quickly, before catching fire. So why did it seem that lately all she had to do was exchange a single glance with Marsh, and the entire world was in danger of going up in flames?

All of this business with the mystery ninja must be setting her off balance.

As for Marsh, well, no doubt he was in a current low spot in his life, too. His home had just burned to the ground and he'd lost nearly everything he owned, some of it irreplaceable. To top it off, he was in a financial bind. He was overworked and tired. He had to be depressed, as well as lonely. He was looking for a little comfort, Leila told herself firmly. In his situation, who wouldn't be?

The drive back into town was filled with tension. Marsh had spent the past half hour at the Sullivan's sipping lemonade and alternately cursing and thanking God for Ben's incredible timing.

Lord, but he wanted to kiss Leila again. Kissing Leila was heaven, and he wanted another glimpse of that paradise. Though he knew kissing her would make him only want more. He wanted to make love to her. He wanted to show her, firsthand, just how passionate he could be.

Her words still stung. She had honestly thought he was cold and hard-hearted. Marsh wasn't like Simon, it was true. Marsh wasn't the type who turned cartwheels of joy at the drop of a hat. He was more careful about what he allowed the world to witness. With the sole exception of bursts of his too hot temper, Marsh was cautious about letting his feelings control him. But that didn't mean those feelings weren't there.

One kiss, he thought, glancing at Leila in the passenger seat. That's all it would take. He could pull the jeep over to the side of the road, take her in his arms, and kiss her. Then she would know that the blood that flowed through his veins was hot. She would also know that he was the man who had kissed her as the clock struck midnight, as the New Year dawned.

And then she would have a heart attack, and run screaming from the jeep, away from him, Marsh thought wryly. Leila was starting to like him, but she wasn't ready to be told that he was the man she was searching for. She had to find that out for herself. Marsh had to take this slowly, or risk frightening her away.

"How well do you know the Sullivans?" Leila asked, breaking the silence.

Marsh looked at her in surprise. "Not all that well. They're down here with their horses every winter. I suppose I don't know them as well as the people who live here year-round, though I consider Ben a man to be trusted. Why do you ask?"

Leila smiled at him. "I think Nancy has a crush on you."

"Nancy Sullivan." Marsh carefully hid his surprise. Why was Leila telling him this?

"I was thinking." Leila glanced at him from the corners of her eyes. "How about if I invite Nancy over to dinner one of these nights and—"

Marsh hit the brakes hard and the jeep squealed to a stop. Good God, she was trying to set him up with her friend. "You can't be serious."

"She's nice, Marsh. I think if you get to know her, you'll like her—"

"I'm not interested in Nancy Sullivan."

"How do you know, when you just told me that you don't know her very well?" Leila countered.

"If I wanted to ask Nancy Sullivan out, I would have done so already myself," Marsh said through tightly clenched teeth. Lord, this was an amazingly ludicrous conversation. Less than an hour ago, he'd come damn close to kissing this woman. They'd both been well aware of the undercurrents in the air. Dammit, Leila knew he was going to kiss her, and she hadn't backed away. If Ben hadn't interrupted them, he would have kissed her. So why was she trying to pair him off with one of her friends now?

"Will you lighten up?" Leila said. "God, you'd think I was trying to arrange for your execution. I'm trying to help, and you fly into one of your awful snits."

"You're trying to help? What, pray tell, are you trying to help me do, exactly? Get married? Settle down? Have a houseful of kids? Or is it more basic than that? Perhaps you're only trying to help me get laid."

Silence. There was silence in the jeep as Leila stared out the windshield and Marsh cursed his bloody temper.

"I'm sorry." He raked his fingers through his hair.

"No, you're right. I was butting in. I'm sorry."

She glanced over at him, and he saw that there were tears in her eyes. For a moment, he had trouble catching his breath, as if someone had knocked all of the air out of him.

"Oh, Leila, I didn't mean to say that—"

"Forget it." She wouldn't meet his eyes. "We fight all the time."

"Not like that. I shouldn't have said that."

She got out of the jeep. "I'm going to walk over to Frankie's."

Marsh pulled himself up so that he was standing on the running board, looking at her over the canvas top of the jeep. "Leila, wait, please. I'm sorry—"

"I said, forget it."

His temper flared. "Dammit, will you let me properly apologize?"

"Why? Will that make you feel better?"

She spun back to face him, and he saw that anger had replaced the tears in her eyes. Anger was better than hurt, but not by much. His hair was in his eyes again, he realized, and he wearily pushed it back, off his face.

"No," he said quietly.

To his surprise, Leila didn't turn and walk away. Instead, she stepped closer to the jeep. "Things are a real mess, aren't they, Marsh? In both of our lives."

"It's true that my house burning down has been rather … inconvenient, but it's just a matter of time before…"

"What? Before you rebuild?"

"Well, yes."

"That's not what I hear," she said. "Not with the problems you're having with your insurance company. Not with the bank loan you can't seem to qualify for."

Marsh ran his hands across his face. "Ah, the drawback of small-town life. Secrets aren't secret for long, are they? As you're fond of pointing out every chance you get."

"I want to help you get your financial situation on track." Leila took another step toward him. She looked lovely in the early afternoon light. The sun made her golden hair shine. And her face … God, he'd dreamed about her beautiful smile, her eyes dancing with pleasure and laughter. He'd fantasized about holding her in his arms. "Let me look at your books."

"It's an improvement over helping me get my love life on track, but not by too much."

"Don't go all macho and stupid on me, Devlin." Leila narrowed her eyes. "You've never been able to balance even your checkbook, and you know it. This isn't a matter of manly pride."

"Believe me, you stomped the last tattered pieces of my manly pride firmly into the ground with that bit about Nancy Sullivan," Marsh said ruefully. "I'd much rather we'd just drop this whole conversation. Let me drive you to Frankie's and we'll pretend it never happened."

Leila was silent, staring down at the dusty pavement, out at the overgrown junglelike bushes that lined the road, up at the crystal blue of the sky. Finally she looked back at Marsh. "I can't just let it go, Marshall. You'd think I would be able to, after all the years we've fought and argued and just in general pretended to dislike each other. But I'm not sure if you changed or I changed or what, but I … I do care about you, and I need you to let me help you."

Marsh stood quietly and let her words digest. She cared about him. It was a step in the right direction. Not a big step, but a step.

He nodded. "All right. You win."

"Good."

"Just the financial stuff," Marsh added. "Not the other."

Leila climbed into the jeep and fastened her seat belt. "In other words, if you want to get laid, you'll do it without my help."

She was intentionally trying to embarrass him. But it wouldn't work.

"Without your help as my social director," Marsh corrected her, giving her a sidelong glance. "Anytime you're interested in a different … position, I'd be more than happy to oblige."

Leila's eyes widened as she realized the double meaning of his words.

"Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like, Leila—you know, you and me?"

His words brought the flush of heat to Leila's cheeks as she tried to look away, as she tried to keep from getting caught in the depths of his eyes.

A supernova. That's what it would be like. An explosion of incredible, unending, unstoppable heat. Arms and legs and bodies and mouths entangled in an almost painful need to be one. He would devour her, even as she consumed him…

"No," she lied, trying desperately to keep her voice from sounding so breathless. "No, actually I haven't."

All of the warmth left his eyes, leaving only a trace of disappointment that was quickly hidden beneath his usual mocking glint.

"Right," he said briskly. "That's the trouble with you accountants. No imagination. Everything's facts and figures."

Leila kept her mouth shut as Marsh started the jeep with a roar of the engine. They drove to Frankie's office in silence.