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      “How did you get talked into taking this job?” she asked.

      “I guided Thom on a climbing trip last year. He thought I was the right man for the job.”

      She laughed softly. “I can imagine,” Serena murmured. Thom was a crafty sort, she mused. He could have sent some gruff, middle-aged security sort, but instead, he’d sent someone young and hot, the kind that her four single bridesmaids would find irresistible. “You’re going to be the hit of the party.”

      Serena reached out and grabbed his glass from the table in front of him, draining the last bit of whiskey and water from the bottom. “I’ll get you another,” she said.

      “I’m fine,” Ryan replied.

      “I’m not,” Serena said.

      She crawled out of her seat and made her way to the small galley near the cockpit door. After she filled two tumblers with ice, she grabbed the whiskey bottle and returned to her seat next to Ryan.

      “So, why don’t you tell me all about yourself,” Serena said, pouring him a glass.

      He pointed to the whiskey, filled to the brim. “Are you trying to get me pissed?”

      “It’s a long flight. We have a lot of time to kill. And I’ll get bored if you don’t tell me some interesting stories. I’m just getting you relaxed.”

      “I’m always relaxed,” he said.

      “Lucky you,” she said. “I never am.”

      He pushed the glass in her direction. “Why don’t you drink it, then?”

      She’d already had too much champagne and was beginning to feel the effects of a hangover. But she picked up the glass and took a sip, then set it down. Serena’s gaze met his, and for a long moment, she couldn’t look away. Would she be so attracted to him if she loved Ben? Her heart said no, but there was so much riding on this wedding now, she had to be sure. Letting her impulsive nature take over, she leaned forward and kissed him.

      It wasn’t a passionate kiss. Nor was it platonic. It existed in the strange space in between. She drew back, her face warming with embarrassment. Thankfully, Ryan didn’t seem to be offended by her brazen nature.

      “Sorry,” she said.

      “For what?”

      “I just...” she murmured. “I couldn’t help myself.”

      “Aren’t you supposed to be engaged?” he asked.

      “Yes,” Serena said, frowning. “I am. Don’t you think it odd that I’d feel the urge to kiss you?”

      “I can’t say. Do you usually kiss men you barely know?”

      Serena nodded. “All the time. I mean, I do on-screen. That’s part of the job. But you’re not...” She sank back into the seat. She had her answer. She hadn’t just enjoyed the kiss, she was desperate to kiss him again. And she didn’t want to stop there. She imagined tearing off his shirt and touching his body, kissing him in places that only she could discover.

      She reached for the whiskey and took a big gulp, wincing as the liquor burned a path down her throat.

      “I always wondered how that worked,” Ryan said. “How do you kiss someone when it’s just for show?”

      “Are you asking if I get turned on?”

      He shrugged. “I would think that would be one of the dangers.”

      “That’s why so many actors end up together after they’ve worked on a film. At some point, the kissing starts to feel real.”

      “Is that what happened with you and...”

      “Ben,” she said. “Ben Thayer.”

      “Right. Ben.”

      “I suppose that’s how it started. He was a really good kisser. And I got a bit swept away.” But she’d never felt quite so infatuated as she was feeling now, sitting next to Ryan Quinn and imagining the next kiss they might share.

      “I don’t expect he’d be happy that you kissed me.”

      “Hmm.” She smiled at him. “I suppose not. If you don’t tell, I won’t, either. We’ll just make it our little secret.” She needed time and space to be able to figure out what all this meant, and right now she had neither.

      “Secrets can be very dangerous,” Ryan said.

      Serena took another sip of the whiskey, then handed him the glass. “Tell me one of your secrets,” she said. “As an actor, I’ve become quite keen at observation. And I believe you’re the kind of man who keeps his secrets buried very deep.”

      “What you see is what you get,” Ryan said with a shrug. He gave her a sideways glance, then shook his head. “I’m not here for your amusement.”

      “Of course not,” she replied.

      “And I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

      “Thank you.” She picked up the glass, then got to her feet. “I think we’re going to have a lot of fun this week. If I were you, Quinn, I’d get some sleep. I intend to keep you very busy.”

      Serena wandered back to her seat. Miles gave her a suspicious look as she passed him, and she rolled her eyes. “I was just being friendly.”

      But when she’d settled into her own spot, she closed her eyes and sighed. She couldn’t seem to put the memories of her kiss with Ryan Quinn out of her mind. Even now, her heart was still beating a bit faster than normal, and her breathing had grown shallow and short.

      Her gaze dropped to the six-carat diamond ring that sparkled on her finger. She was due to walk down the aisle in just a few weeks. Everything was planned. Two hundred and fifty guests had all received their invitations. And yet she wasn’t thinking about the man waiting for her at home in Los Angeles. Instead, she was obsessing over the man sitting just a few feet away.

      It was proof that she didn’t love Ben. But then, she’d never really believed in true love, anyway, so what had changed? When it came down to it, was one kiss reason enough to destroy her chance at happiness? “Get a grip,” she muttered to herself. Ryan was a distraction. Ben was the man she intended to marry.

      * * *

      A BRIGHTLY PAINTED VAN and a Peugeot sedan were waiting for them when the Learjet landed in Nadi, on the island of Viti Levu. They taxied to stop near a well-lit hangar, and Miles and Ryan helped the ladies gather their luggage and fill out their customs and immigration forms for the waiting official. When they were cleared, the girls stumbled into the van, still half-asleep.

      “Please tell me we’re finally here,” one of the women cried.

      “You’re here,” Ryan said.

      He glanced at Serena, and she smiled warmly before disappearing into the van.

      Miles and Ryan decided to ride in the sedan, chauffeured by a smiling Fijian. He held out his hand as they approached. “I am Arthur Cawaru. I manage the house at Bellavista.”

      Ryan shook his hand. “I’m Ryan Quinn. Thom said you’d be able to help me out with the arrangements.”

      “I am at your service, Mr. Quinn.”

      Miles introduced himself to Arthur and they got into the rear seat of the car. Though the sun wasn’t up yet, the eastern sky had begun to change from black to a deep blue, and the stars had started to fade. They drove on narrow, winding roads that hugged the coast, the South Pacific on one side and lush, tropical vegetation on the other.

      Ryan chuckled softly. “This is bloody brilliant.”

      “Brilliant?”

      “Look at us. Someone is paying us to hang out in this tropical paradise with five beautiful

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