LITMIR.BIZ

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her, Yellow Scarf, and his men to a distant isle where they would serve those people for life.

      Children and adults chose their tables here.

      Heath strode from the stone house, Tristan’s spirits in hand.

      Relief flooded Aimee. Excitement and hard lust filled her too.

      Netta padded to the closest table.

      Aimee grabbed her hand and pulled her back.

      “What are you doing?” Netta twisted her arm. “Let go.”

      “In a moment.” Before they chose a table, they needed to know where Heath would sit. “I want to make certain we brought everything out that we should.” She made a show of glancing around.

      Netta tapped her foot.

      Heath placed the bottles on the table near Royce and sank to the empty bench opposite him.

      Given Royce’s scowl, Aimee wasn’t convinced Heath would stay there long.

      Royce eyed the brandy. “Some is missing.”

      Heath smiled coolly. “Care to smell my breath?”

      “Enough.” Simone elbowed Royce and frowned at Heath. “You two bicker worse than the youngest children. Try to get along.”

      Royce wrinkled his nose. “With him? Never.”

      She jabbed him again. “Have you forgotten how James wanted to shoot you when you brought the white devil here?”

      “You mean Bishop.” Peter dragged his hair off his shoulders. Sun had bleached his dark locks and turned his skin golden. “Bloody swine. I haven’t forgotten what Royce did.”

      “Nor have I.” James leaned across Gavra and Willy to glare at Royce. “You still deserve a good thrashing.”

      He slumped. “I have apologized repeatedly.”

      “As I have.” Heath drummed the table. “Unlike Royce, I didn’t know what Bishop had planned. I was an innocent bystander.”

      Aimee pulled Netta to the bench. “I believe Heath. He meant no harm.” To hide Netta’s hand, she shoved her sister to his left.

      Netta sprawled on the bench, her cloth falling away from her legs.

      Heath stared at her thighs. His breathing picked up. “Allow me to help.”

      She shrank back.

      He lowered his hand. “Are you all right?”

      Aimee answered, “She is.”

      “I doubt that.” Royce pointed to a faraway table. “There’s room over there.”

      Aimee bristled. “Netta and I have a right to sit here. How dare you ask us to leave.”

      “Hold on. I haven’t. What I said was meant for him.” He jabbed his thumb at Heath.

      “Everyone stays here.” Aimee spoke to her sister. “Go on. Sit. Now.” She blocked her from leaving.

      Jaw clamped, Netta swung her legs over the bench.

      Aimee lifted her cloth and sat to Heath’s right. “We should forget the past and look to the future.” His clean, musky scent drew her closer. She touched his forearm. Pleasure unlike any she’d known rolled through her. “You must be hungry from carrying so many benches and tables.”

      Peter sniffed. “Do be serious. We all did that.”

      “Not you.” Netta chuckled. “I saw. I heard.” She made smacking sounds to resemble lovers’ sloppy kisses.

      Peter colored worse than Laure did.

      Heath’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, as did James’s and Royce’s.

      Aimee offered Heath a grape cluster. Juice from the plump fruit splashed his wrist. She resisted an urge to lick the drops. “Netta has a wonderful way of making everyone smile and laugh, no?”

      He swallowed his grape and nodded.

      “We both like to tease, but she’s much better at it that I am.”

      Netta lowered her face. “I am not.”

      “You are.” Aimee leaned into Heath. Her breast snuggled against his arm. “Go on, ask her if she is.”

      He stared at Aimee’s nipple. His face turned a deeper red than Peter’s had, closer to Netta’s current shade.

      Until he and she got over their shyness with each other, as Aimee forced herself to do, none of them would know passion.

      Aimee prodded gently. “Ask.”

      Netta kept her face down.

      Simone, Gavra, and Laure leaned forward, not even breathing as they waited for Heath’s first word. Even Willy had quieted. The men rolled their eyes or shook their heads.

      Aimee gave them a hard stare.

      Heath cleared his throat. “I don’t have to ask. I’d say Netta does have a splendid sense of humor, which is greatly appreciated. Well done.”

      Netta’s eyes rounded, but she managed a smile. “Merci.”

      He made an appreciative noise. “I’d say the thanks go to you. What else can you tell us about poor Peter? Something amusing I hope.”

      “Always. But I better not.”

      “Why?”

      “We may never get away from the table. It would take me until sunrise and past to finish.”

      Everyone laughed.

      Peter drew in his scrawny shoulders. Although tall like a proper Englishman, he’d yet to put muscle on his lean frame. “Are none of you going to eat? Must you stuff your mouths with foul words rather than food?”

      James poured his ale. “Indeed we must. Making sport of you is far more enjoyable, unless someone would care to tell Heath what happened with Royce during our last celebration.”

      Simone put up her hand. “No one speaks of that again.”

      “I will.” Peter crossed his arms over the table. “He tried to teach us the marionette.”

      “Minuet.” Royce curled his upper lip. “A marionette is a puppet.”

      “No different from how we looked with your foolish dance.”

      Netta laughed. “Gavra bounced up and down like a ball. Right, Aimee?”

      “She did. Peter and Laure bumped into each other. Like this.” She smacked her fist into her palm. “He nearly knocked her down. Zola and Adamo couldn’t keep up with the steps. One went this way.” She pointed. “The other that way.” She swung her finger. “Some went in circles. A few hopped like birds. If the priest had been here, he would have said the white man’s devil had possessed everyone.”

      The women laughed until they couldn’t breathe. The men’s delighted roars shook the benches. Even Royce and Simone joined in.

      A pleasant meal followed. Everyone joked, ate, drank. All good friends and part of the island family now.

      James caught the last brandy drops on his tongue. “Do we have more of this or are we to deprive ourselves on this grand night? Heath? You’re in charge of spirits. What say you?”

      “What else? I’ll bring more. Excuse me.” He eased his leg past Aimee.

      His knee grazed her thigh. Riotous heat filled her. She should have moved but couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

      Netta didn’t give him extra room either. She stared at his muscular arms and back.

      Free of the bench, he breathed hard and tramped to the stone house.

      “We need more

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