“I'm looking forward to it.”

Suzanna stopped by a new minivan, unlocked the doors. “Pile in,” she told the kids, then slipped the baby out of Megan's arms. “I hope you say that after you get a look at the ledgers.” Competently she strapped the baby into his car seat. “I'm afraid Holt's a pathetic record keeper. And Nathaniel...”

“Oh, that's right. Holt has a partner now. What did Sloan tell me? An old friend?”

“Holt and Nathaniel grew up together on the island. Nathaniel moved back a few months ago. He used to be in the merchant marine. There you go, sweetie.” She kissed the baby, then shot an eagle eye over the rest of the children to make sure seat belts were securely buckled. She clicked the sliding door into place, then rounded the hood as Megan took the passenger seat. “He's quite a character,” Suzanna said mildly. “You'll get a kick out of him.”


The character was just finishing up an enormous lunch of fried chicken, potato salad and lemon meringue pie. With a sigh of satisfaction, he pushed back from the table and eyed his hostess lustfully.

“What do I have to do to get you to marry me, darling?”

She giggled, blushed and waved a hand at him. “You're such a tease, Nate.”

“Who's teasing?” He rose, grabbed her fluttering hand and kissed it lavishly. She always smelted like a woman—soft, lush, glorious. He winked and skimmed his lips up to nibble on her wrist. “You know I'm crazy about you, Coco.”

Cordelia Calhoun McPike gave another delighted giggle, then patted his cheek. “About my cooking.”

“That, too.” He grinned when she slipped away to pour him coffee. She was a hell of a woman, he thought. Tall, stately, striking. It amazed him that some smart man hadn't scooped up the widow McPike long ago. “Who do I have to fight off this week?”

“Now that The Retreat's open, I don't have time for romance.” She might have sighed over it if she wasn't so pleased with her life. All her darling girls were married and happy, with babies of their own. She had grandnieces and grandnephews to spoil, nephews-in-law to coddle, and, most surprising of all, a full-fledged career as head chef for the St. James Towers Retreat. She offered Nathaniel the coffee and, because she caught him eyeing the pie, cut him another slice.

“You read my mind.”

Now she did sigh a little. There was nothing quite so comforting to Coco as watching a man enjoy her food. And he was some man. When Nathaniel Fury rolled back into town, people had noticed. Who could overlook tall, dark and handsome? Certainly not Coco McPike. Particularly not when the combination came with smoky gray eyes, a cleft chin and wonderfully golden skin over sharp cheekbones—not to mention considerable charm.

The black T-shirt and jeans he wore accented an athletic, rangy bodybroad shoulders, muscular arms, narrow hips.

Then there was that aura of mystery, a touch of the exotic. It went deeper than his looks, though the dark eyes and the waving mane of deep mahogany hair was exotic enough. It was a matter of presence, she supposed, the culmination of what he'd done and what had touched him in all those years he traveled to foreign ports.

If she'd been twenty years younger... Well, she thought, patting her rich chestnut hair, maybe ten.

But she wasn't, so she had given Nathaniel the place in her heart of the son she'd never had. She was determined to find the right woman for him and see him settled happily. Like her beautiful girls.

Since she felt she had personally arranged the romances and resulting unions of all four of her nieces, she was confident she could do the same for Nathaniel.

“I did your chart last night,” she said casually, and checked the fish stew she had simmering for tonight's menu.

“Oh, yeah?” He scooped up more pie. God, the woman could cook.

“You're entering a new phase of your life, Nate.”

He'd seen too much of the world to totally dismiss astrology—or any thing else. So he smiled at her. “I'd say you're on target there, Coco. Got myself a business, a house on land, retired my seabag.”

“No, this phase is more personal.” She wiggled her slim brows. “It has to do with Venus.”

He grinned at that. “So, are you going to marry me?”

She wagged a finger at him. “You're going to say that to someone, quite seriously, before the summer's over. Actually, I saw you falling in love twice. I'm not quite sure what that means.” Her forehead wrinkled as she considered. “It didn't really seem as if you'd have to choose, though there was quite a bit of interference. Perhaps even danger.”

“If a guy falls for two women, he's asking for trouble.” And Nathaniel was content, at least for the moment, to have no females in his life. Women simply didn't come without expectations, and he planned to fulfill none but his own. “And since my heart already belongs to you...” He got up to go to the stove and kiss her cheek.

The tornado blew in without warning. The kitchen door slammed open, and three shrieking whirlwinds spun through.

“Aunt Coco! They're here!”

“Oh, my.” Coco pressed a hand to her speeding heart. “Alex, you took a year off my life.” But she smiled, studying the dark-eyed boy beside him. “Can this be Kevin? You've grown a foot! Don't you have a kiss for Aunt Coco?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He went forward dutifully, still unsure of his ground. He was enveloped against soft breasts, in soft scents. It eased his somewhat nervous stomach.

“We're so glad you're here.” Coco's eyes teared up sentimentally. “Now the whole family's in one place. Kevin, this is Mr. Fury. Nate, my grandnephew.”

Nathaniel knew the story, how the scum Baxter Dumont had managed to get some naive kid pregnant shortly before he married Suzanna. The boy was eyeing him now, nervous but contained. Nathaniel realized Kevin knew the story, as well—or part of it.

“Welcome to Bar Harbor.” He offered his hand, which Kevin took politely.

“Nate runs the boat shop and stuff with my dad.” The novelty of saying “my dad” had yet to wear thin with Alex. “Kevin wants to see whales,” he told Nathaniel. “He comes from Oklahoma, and they don't have any. They hardly have any water at all.”

“We've got some.” Kevin automatically defended his homeland. “And we've got cowboys,” he added, one-upping Alex. “You don't have any of those.”

“Uh-huh.” This from Jenny. “I got a whole cowboy suit.” “Girl,” Alex corrected. “It's a cowgirl, 'cause you're a girl.” “It is not.”

“Is too.”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Is not.”

“Well, I see everything's normal in here.” Suzanna entered, aiming a warning look at both of her children. “Hello, Nate. I didn't expect to see you here.”

“I got lucky.” He slipped an arm around Coco's shoulders. “Spent an hour with my woman.”

“Flirting with Aunt Coco again?” But Suzanna noted that his gaze had already shifted. She remembered that look from the first time they'd met. The way the gray eyes measured, assessed. Automatically she put a hand on Megan's arm. “Megan O'Riley, Nathaniel Fury, Holt's partner—and Aunt Coco's latest conquest.”

“Nice to meet you.” She was tired, Megan realized. Had to be, if that clear, steady gaze put her back up. She dismissed him, a little too abruptly for politeness, and smiled at Coco. “You look wonderful.”

“Oh, and here I am in my apron. I didn't even freshen up.” Coco gave her a hard, welcoming hug. “Let me fix you something. You must be worn-out after the flight.”

“Just a little.”

“We took the bags up, and I put Christian in the nursery.” While Suzanna herded the children to the table and chatted, Nathaniel took a good long survey of Megan O'Riley.

Cool as an Atlantic breeze, he decided. A little frazzled and unnerved at the moment, he thought, but not willing to show it. The peach-toned skin and long, waving strawberry blond hair made an eye-catching combination.

Nathaniel usually preferred women who were dark and sultry, but there was something to be said for all that rose and gold. She had blue eyes, the color of a calm sea at dawn. Stubborn mouth, he mused, though it softened nicely when she smiled at her son.

A bit on the skinny side, he thought as he finished off his coffee. Needed some of Coco's cooking to help her fill out. Or maybe she just looked skinny—and prim—because she wore such severely tailored jacket and slacks.

Well aware of his scrutiny, Megan forced herself to keep up her end of the conversation with Coco and the rest. She'd grown used to stares years before, when she was young, unmarried, and pregnant by another woman's husband.

She knew how some men reacted to her status as a single mother, how they assumed she was an easy mark. And she knew how to disabuse them of the notion.

She met Nathaniel's stare levelly, frostily. He didn't look away, as most would, but continued to watch her, unblinkingly, until her teeth clenched.

Good going, he thought. She might be skinny, but she had grit. He grinned, lifted his coffee mug in a silent toast, then turned to Coco. “I've got to go, got a tour to do. Thanks for lunch, Coco.”

“Don't forget dinner. The whole family will be here. Eight o'clock.” He glanced back at Megan. “Wouldn't miss it.”

“See that you don't.” Coco looked at her watch, closed her eyes. “Where is that man? He's late again.”

“The Dutchman?”

“Who else? I sent him to the butcher's two hours ago.”

Nathaniel shrugged. His former shipmate, and The Towers' new assistant chef, ran on his own timetable. “If I see him down at the docks, I'll send him along.”

“Kiss me goodbye,” Jenny demanded, delighted when Nathaniel hauled her up.