"You looked absolutely beautiful in it, dear," one of the ladies said. "I hope you will allow us to put a picture of you in it with the exhibit."

"Of course," Emily agreed. "It's the least I can do."

The gown was carried off, and Emily quickly got into a little lavender silk suit.

"Has Mick told you yet where you're going?" Savannah wanted to know.

"Nope. He says he won't tell me until we get on the plane," Emily replied. "It's all very mysterious, and frankly I can't wait. He wouldn't even let me pack. Said he would do it. I was only to do my cosmetic case."

"I can't wait to hear all about it when you get back," Savannah said. "Send us postcards, Emily." Then she hurried off.

"Are you ready, Mrs. Devlin?" he asked her, coming into their bedroom.

"I'm ready, Mr. Devlin," she answered him with a smile.

Together they descended the staircase to the waiting guests, who had been alerted by Savannah. Emily stopped a quarter of the way from the bottom and threw her small bouquet of white rosebuds, freesia, and white lilacs to the assembled squealing women. Her husband's assistant, Sally, caught it, and then blushed. Calling their good-byes, Emily and Devlin ran from the house and into the waiting town car, the good wishes of their guests ringing in their ears. To Emily's surprise they did not go to Kennedy. Instead they went to the local airport, where they boarded a small corporate jet.

"A perk of working for Stratford," Michael Devlin told Ins wife.

"But where are we going?" Emily asked him.

"Lovers Cay," he told her.

"Where is that?" She accepted the champagne the steward brought her.

"It's a small private island in the Bahamas. I've let it for ten days with its staff. Just you and me. A beach. A warm sea. Discreet servants-and a very large bed," he said.

"Sounds heavenly." Emily was intrigued.

They landed several hours later on a small airstrip, and were driven immediately to the great house where they would be staying. The first thing Emily noticed was that the servants were virtually naked but for small loincloths. She looked to Devlin as a maid brought in her cosmetic case and set it on the dressing table before hurrying out.

"Where are the suitcases?" she said.

"Aren't any. We're not going to be wearing clothing for the next ten days, angel face," he told her, a wicked smile lighting his face. "Just you and me."

"Oh, Devlin!" Emily began to laugh.

"Let's hang our clothes up now so they'll be ready for our return home," he suggested, and he went to the closet and opened it.

Emily looked about her as she began to unbutton her jacket. It was perfect. Just perfect. The floor was plush with its thick carpet. An entire wall of glass with sheer curtains blowing in the trade winds opened onto the palm-lined beach, and the blue sea beyond. The silk-sheeted bed was the biggest one she had ever seen. Then her eye lit on the beautiful basket by the bed. It was filled to the brim with sex toys and lotions. And on the other side of the bed there was a footed silver champagne bucket with a bottle of outrageously expensive champagne sitting amid a hill of ice. Emily looked across the room at her husband, who was now totally naked, and utterly gorgeous. She shrugged off her jacket and, unzipping her skirt, stepped out of it as it dropped to the floor. Then she walked across the carpet to him and slipped her arms about his neck. Her nipples were just touching his smooth chest.

"I love you," she said, "and this is so perfect, I don't think I'll ever want to go home."

"Wherever we are together, angel face, it will always be perfect. Always paradise," Michael Devlin said. And then he kissed her, and Emily knew that what had begun as something forbidden had become something wonderful. She had gotten her happily-ever-after, and wasn't that the way every love story was supposed to end?

About the Author

Bertrice Small is a New York Times bestselling author and the recipient of numerous awards. In keeping with her profession, Bertrice Small lives in the oldest English-speaking town in the state of New York, founded in 1640. Her light-filled studio includes the paintings of her favorite cover artist, Elaine Duillo, and a large library. Because she believes in happy endings, Bertrice Small has been married to the same man, her hero, George, for forty-three years. They have a son, Thomas; a daughter-in-law, Megan; and four wonderful grandchildren. Longtime readers will be happy to know that Nicki the Cockatiel flourishes along with his fellow housemates: Pookie, the long-haired greige-and-white cat; Finnegan, the long-haired bad black kitty; and Sylvester, the black-and-white tuxedo cat who has recently joined the family.