Kevin figured Nathaniel Fury was about the coolest man he'd ever met—a man who had traveled the seven seas like Sinbad, and had the scars and stories to prove it. A man who liked puppies and talking birds.

He didn't seem to mind when Kevin hung back while Alex and Jenny raced around the yard with the puppy and killed each other with imaginary laser pistols. It was more fun to crouch close while Nathaniel hammered nails into boards.

It took Kevin about six boards to start asking questions. “How come you want a deck out here?”

“So I can sit on it.” Nathaniel set another board in place. “But you've already got one in the back.”

“I'll still have it.” Three strikes of the hammer and the nail was through board and joist. Nathaniel sat back on his haunches. He wore nothing but a bandanna twisted around his head and a pair of ragged cutoff jeans. His skin was bronzed by the sun and coated lightly with sweat. ”See how the frame goes?”

Kevin followed the direction of the deck frame as it skirted around the side of the house. “Uh-huh.”

“Well, we'll keep going till we meet the other deck.”

Kevin's eyes brightened. “So it'll go all around, like a circle.”

“You got it.” Nathaniel hammered the next nail, and the next, then shifted positions. “How do you like the island?”

He asked the question in such a natural, adult fashion that Kevin first glanced around to see if Nathaniel was speaking to him. “I like it. I like it a lot. We get to live in the castle, and I can play with Alex and Jenny anytime.”

“You had friends back in Oklahoma, too, right?”

“Sure. My best friend is John Curtis Silverhorn. He's part Comanche. My mom said he could come visit anytime, and that we can write letters all we want. I already wrote him about the whale.” Kevin smiled shyly. “I liked that the best.”

“We'll have to go out again.” “Really? When?”

Nathaniel stopped hammering and looked at the boy. He realized he should have remembered from his exposure to Alex and Jenny that when children were raised with love and trust, they believed just about everything you told them.

“You can come out with me whenever you want. 'Long as your mother gives the go-ahead.”

His reward for the careless offer was a brilliant smile. “Maybe I can steer the boat again?”

“Yeah.” Nathaniel grinned and turned Kevin's baseball cap backward. “You could do that. Want to nail some boards?”

Kevin's eyes widened and glowed. “Okay!”

“Here.” Nathaniel scooted back so that Kevin could kneel in front of him. “Hold the nail like this.” He wrapped his hands over Kevin's, showing him how to hold both the hammer and the nail to guide the stroke.

“Hey!” Alex rose from the dead on Planet Zero and raced over. “Can I do it?”

“Me too.” Jenny leaped on Nathaniel's back, knowing she was always welcome.

“I guess I got me a crew.” Nathaniel figured that with all the extra help it would only take about twice as long to finish.

An hour later, Megan pulled up beside the long, classic lines of the T-Bird and stared. The house itself surprised her. The charming two-story cottage, with its neatly painted blue shutters and its window boxes bright with pansies, wasn't exactly the image she had of Nathaniel Fury. Nor was the tidy green lawn, the trimmed hedge, the fat barking puppy.

But it was Nathaniel who surprised her most. She was a bit taken aback by all that exposed golden skin, the lithe, muscled body. She was human, after all. But it was what he was doing that really captured her attention.

He was crouched over her son on the partially finished deck, their heads close, his big hand over Kevin's small one. Jenny was sitting adoringly beside him, and Alex was playing highwire on a joist.

“Hi, Megan! Look, I'm the death-defying Alex.” In his excitement, Alex nearly lost his balance and almost plunged a harrowing eight inches to the ground. He pinwheeled his arms and avoided disaster.

“Close call,” she said, and grinned at him. “I'm in the center ring, without a net.”

“Mom, we're building a deck.” Kevin caught his bottom lip between his teeth and pounded a nail. “See?”

“Yes, I do.” Briefcase in tow, Megan stopped to pet the eager puppy who fell over backward in enthusiasm.

“And it's my turn next.” Jenny batted her eyes at Nathaniel. “Isn't it?” “That's right, sugar. Okay, Captain. Let's drive that baby home.”

With a grunt of effort, Kevin sent the nail into the board. “I did it. I did the whole board.” Proudly, Kevin looked back at his mother. “We each get to do a board. This is my third one.”

“It looks like you're doing a good job.” To give the devil his due, she smiled at Nathaniel. “Not everyone could handle it.”

“Just takes a steady eye and a sure hand. Hey, mates, where's my timber?” “We'll get it.” Alex and Kevin scrambled together to heave the next plank.

Standing back, Megan watched the routine they'd worked out. Nathaniel took the board, sighted down it, set it in place. He tapped, shifted, using a small block of wood to measure the distance between the last board and the new one. Once he was satisfied, Jenny wriggled in front of him. She wrapped both little hands around the hammer, and Nathaniel, a braver soul than Megan had imagined, held the nail.

“Keep your eye on the target,” Nathaniel warned, then sat patiently while her httle strokes gradually anchored the nail. Then, wrapping his hand over hers, he rammed it home. “Thirsty work,” he said casually. “Isn't it, mates?”

“Aye, aye.” Alex put his hands to his throat and gagged.

Nathaniel held the next nail. “There's some lemonade in the kitchen. If someone was to go fetch the pitcher and a few glasses...”

Four pairs of eyes turned on her, putting Megan firmly in her place. If she wasn't going to be a carpenter, she'd have to be a gofer.

“All right.” She set the briefcase down and crossed the finished portion of the deck to the front door. Nathaniel said nothing, waited.

Seconds later, a shrill wolf whistle sounded from inside, followed by a muffled scream. He was grinning by the time Bird squawked out his invitation: “Hey, sugar, buy you a drink? Here's looking at you, kid.” When Bird began to sing a chorus of “There Is Nothing like a Dame,” the children collapsed into fits of laughter.

A few minutes later, Megan carried out a tray of drinks. Bird's voice followed her. “ 'Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score!'“

She arched a brow as she set the tray on the deck. “Bogart, show tunes and poetry. That's quite a bird.”

“He has an eye for pretty women.” Nathaniel picked up a glass and downed half the contents. He scanned Megan, taking in the tidy French twist, the crisp blouse and slacks. “Can't say I blame him.”

“Aunt Coco says Nate needs a woman.” Alex smacked his lips over the tart lemonade. “I don't know why.”

“To sleep with him,” Jenny said, and caused both Nathaniel and Megan to gape. “Grown-ups get lonely at night, and they like to have someone to sleep with like Mom and Daddy do. I have my bear,” she continued, referring to her favorite stuffed animal. “So I don't get lonely.”

“Break time.” Nathaniel gamely swallowed his choke of laughter. “Why don't you guys take Dog for a walk down by the water?”

The idea met with unanimous approval. With war whoops and slapping feet, they raced off.

“Kid's got a point.” Nathaniel rubbed the cold glass over his sweaty brow. “Nights can get lonely.”

“I'm sure Jenny will lend you her bear.” Megan stepped away from him, as if studying the house. “It's a very nice plaoe, Nathaniel.” She flicked a finger over the sassy petals of a pansy. “Homey.”

“You were expecting a crow's nest, some oilcloth?”

She had to smile. “Something like that. I want to thank you for letting Kevin spend the day.”

“I'd say the three of them are working as a team these days.”

Her smile softened. She could hear their laughter from behind the house. “Yes, you're right.”

“I like having them around. They're good company.” He shifted on the deck, folding his legs Indian-style. “The boy's got your eyes.”

Her smile faded. “No, Kevin's are brown.” Like his father's.

“No, not the color. The look in them. Goes a lot deeper than brown or blue. How much have you told him?”

“I—” She brought herself back, angled her chin. “I didn't come here to discuss my personal life with you.”

“What did you come here to discuss?”

“I came to get the children, and to go over your books.” Nathaniel nodded at her briefcase. “Got them in there?”

“Yes.” She retrieved it, then, because she saw little choice, sat on the deck facing him. “I've finished the first quarter—that's January, February, March. Your outlay exceeded your income during that period, though you did have some cash flow through boat repairs. There is an outstanding account payable from February.” She took out files, flipped through the neatly computer-generated sheets. “A Mr. Jacques LaRue, in the amount of twelve hundred and thirty-two dollars and thirty-six cents.”

“LaRue's had a tough year.” Nathaniel poured more lemonade. “Holt and I agreed to give him some more time.”

“That's your business, of course. Traditionally there would be late charges on any outstanding account after thirty days.”

“Traditionally, on the island, we're a little friendlier.”

“Your choice.” She adjusted her glasses. “Now, as you can see, I've arranged the books into logical columns. Expenses—rent, utilities, office supplies, advertising and so forth. Then we have wages and withholding.”

“New perfume.”

She glanced over. “What?”

“You're wearing a new perfume. There's a hint of jasmine in it.” Distracted, she stared at him. “Coco gave it to me.”

“I like it.” He leaned closer. “A lot.”

“Well.” She cleared her throat, flipped a page. “And here we have income. I've added the weekly ticket sales from the tours to give you a month-by month total, and a year-to-date. I see that you run a package deal with The Retreat, discounting your tour for hotel guests.”

“Seemed friendly—and like good business.”

“Yes, it's very smart business. On the average, eighty percent of the hotel guests take advantage of the package. I... Do you have to sit so close?” “Yeah. Have dinner with me tonight, Meg.”

“No.”

“Afraid to be alone with me?”

“Yes. Now, as you can see, in March your income began an upswing—” “Bring the boy.”

“What?”

“Am I mumbling?” He smiled at her and slipped her glasses off her nose. “I said bring Kevin along. We'll take a drive out to this place I know. Great lobster rolls.” He gave the word lobster a broad New England twist that made her smile. “I can't claim they're up to Coco's standards, but there's plenty of local color.”

“We'll see.”

“Uh-uh. Parental cop-out.”

She sighed, shrugged. “All right. Kevin would enjoy it.”

“Good.” He handed her glasses back before he rose to heft another board. “Tonight, then.”

“Tonight?”

“Why wait? You can call Suzanna, tell her we'll drop the kids off at her house on the way.”

“I suppose I could.” Now that his back was to her, she had no choice but to watch the ripple of muscles play as he set the board. She ignored the quick tug at her midsection, and reminded herself that her son would be along as chaperon. “I've never had a lobster roll.”

“Then you're in for a treat.”

He was absolutely right. The long, winding drive in the spectacular T-Bird was joy enough. The little villages they passed through were as scenic as any postcard. The sun dipped down toward the horizon in the west, and the breeze in the open car smelled of fish, then flowers, then sea.

The restaurant was hardly more than a diner, a square of faded gray wood set on stilts in the water, across a rickety gangplank. The interior decoration ran to torn fishnets and battered lobster buoys.

Scarred tables dotted the equally scarred floor. The booths were designed to rip the hell out of panty hose. A dubious effort at romantic atmosphere was added by the painted tuna can and hurricane globe set in the center of each table. The candles globbed in the base of the cans were unlit. Today's menu was scrawled on a chalkboard hanging beside the open kitchen.

“We got lobster rolls, lobster salad and lobster lobster,” a waitress explained to an obviously frazzled family of four. “We got beer, we got milk, iced tea and soft drinks. There's French fries and coleslaw, and no ice cream 'cause the machine's not working. What'll you have?”