Chloe smelled like sunshine. Funny that he’d never noticed that before. Luke held her protectively, feeling her slim figure sway against him as her father sent the boat in a wide arc toward the island. He was enjoying this, maybe a little too much.

      Enjoyment had been the last thing on his mind when her father had invited them to go along today. It had been on the tip of his tongue to say no, but Clayton Caldwell’s shrewd gaze had suggested he wouldn’t buy an easy excuse. And then Luke had thought of Chloe and the concerns she’d brought up the day before.

      He’d been angry at first over her attitude toward his talk with her brother. After all, he hadn’t approached Theo. Theo had come to him.

      But he couldn’t help being impressed by how much she cared about her family. Her passionate defense of them was outside his experience, and he didn’t really understand it. The only thing he had to compare was his friendship with Reverend Tom and the debt he owed to the man who’d taken him off the streets and given him a future.

      Well, he was determined to try his best to fit in here, for Chloe’s sake. This trip gave him an excuse to look over the area and make Chloe’s parents happy. Unfortunately, Chloe didn’t seem to be reacting quite the way he’d hoped. She sat stiffly within the circle of his arm, as if she’d pull away at the first excuse.

      He squeezed her shoulder. “Come on, Chloe.” He spoke softly under the noise of the motor. “Lighten up. You’re not on your way to the guillotine.”

      That startled her into meeting his eyes. “I’m not acting as if I am.”

      “Sure you are.” He moved his hand, brushing her hair. It flowed like silk over his fingers. “I know you don’t like the pretense, but can’t we at least be friends?”

      Her mouth tightened, and her eyes were very bright. “Friends, or boss and assistant?”

      “Friends,” he said firmly.

      “Maybe being friends isn’t such a good idea. When we go back to Chicago…” She stopped, and her gaze eluded his. “Well, it might cause problems.”

      That unsettled him. He hadn’t really considered what their relationship was going to be like when they went back to the city, back to their relative positions in the company. He’d only thought about that corner office, with the vice-president title on the door.

      “Don’t be ridiculous.” It came out more sharply than he intended. “We’ve always worked well together, and we always will. Nothing will change between us.”

      “Maybe,” she said softly, looking away. “Maybe you’re right.”

      Annoyance shot through him. All right, he hadn’t thought through that part of it very well. So he couldn’t go back to looking at Chloe as if she were nothing more than an efficient assistant. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but Chloe looked as if it were the end of the world.

      He opened his mouth to tell her so, but the motor suddenly throttled back and their privacy vanished. Chloe slid to the edge of the seat, putting several inches between them.

      “There it is—Angel Isle.” She pointed.

      “Looks pretty good, doesn’t it, Chloe-girl?” Her father swung the boat toward a dock, cutting the motor so that they drifted in.

      “Looks great to me.” Chloe scrambled to fasten the lines. “Not a thing has changed.”

      “Well, that’s how we like it.” Her mother bustled back, pulling out the picnic hamper.

      Luke got to his feet slowly. He should help her, but for the moment he could only stare at the scene spread out in front of him.

      The dock anchored one edge of a wide, shallow curve of shoreline. Palmettos and moss-draped live oaks fringed a pristine, untouched sandy beach. Waves rolled in gently, rippling onto the sand like a woman shaking a tablecloth. It was as isolated and exotic as a castaway’s island.

      Chloe had already scurried up onto the dock, and she held out her hand to him. Whatever reservation he’d sensed in her a moment ago was gone now. Her eyes sparkled with eagerness, almost golden in the sunlight.

      “Hurry up. I want to see the cottage.”

      He climbed out and followed her off the dock and onto the shell-strewn path, leaving her parents behind on the boat. He could already see the house, although he wouldn’t call it a cottage. The building was long and low and nearly as large as the inn. Gray-shingled, with a screened porch running the length of it, it fit into the setting as if it had grown there.

      “Pretty big for a cottage, isn’t it?” He caught up with Chloe and took her hand.

      She looked startled but she didn’t pull away. “I guess. I mean, the family has always called it that. Years ago, they used to summer here. That was in the days when everyone went to the outer islands in the hot weather. But that got too difficult once they opened the inn. Now we use it for shorter visits, family reunions, that sort of thing.”

      He tried to visualize Angel Isle as he’d seen it from the water. It had looked virtually deserted. “Are there any other houses?”

      “Others?” She went up the porch steps. “No. Just ours.”

      He hardly wanted to look at the idea that was forming in his mind, for fear he’d see some flaw in it.

      “I suppose all this is some sort of nature preserve or something, then?” That might explain why no one else had built here.

      “No, of course not.”

      Chloe had already hurried across the porch. Standing on tiptoe, she pulled a key from a hook at the top of the door frame, then unlocked the door. She swung it open, and he had a quick glimpse of a spacious room dominated by a massive brick fireplace.

      He