Free Vacation with a Vampire & Other Immortals by Maureen Child, MAGGIE SHAYNE Page A

the door closed, then knocked sharply, twice, to wake her. “Anna?” he called. “Are you in there?”
    “Wha—oh!” There was a sloshing of water. “Yes, give me a minute.”
    “Of course.”
    More sloshing. Then the distinct sound of gurgling as the water started to drain. Moments later she was opening the door, holding one large plush towel around her torso, with another draped over her shoulders. Her hair was still up, wet tendrils dangling around her neck, and her face was sleepy. Leaning on the doorjamb, she smiled up at him. “I fell asleep in your tub. I’m sorry.”
    “It’s perfectly all right. You’re here to rest and to heal. Nothing to apologize for.”
    She nodded, but her eyes shot lower. “Not much healing that can be done, though. At least, not for what’s really wrong.”
    “The weakness…it’s getting worse?” he asked.
    “I’m so sleepy all the time. I want to be exploring and playing and relishing what’s left of my life, and particularly my time here on this beautiful island with you. But instead I’m falling asleep in the bathtub.”
    “There’s a lot to be relished about a hot bath in an oversized Jacuzzi.” He tipped his head slightly. “At least, as far as I recall from the last time I did so myself. You enjoyed it, yes?”
    Her smile returned, as he had intended it to do. “Yes.”
    “Then no time was wasted. And there’s still enough night left to enjoy. And since you so enjoyed the sunrise this morning…” He paused there, frowning at her. “You did, didn’t you?”
    “Not all of it.” She lowered her head so that her curls fell damply across her cheek, then peered up at him from behind them with a sheepish grin. “I fell asleep then, too.”
    “Well, then, this will please you doubly. How about watching the moonrise instead?”
    She frowned. “But it must be nearly…”
    “Midnight,” he filled in. “But it’s a half-moon. They rise at midnight, set at midday, more or less. Very predictable, the moon.”
    “Yes, I love that about Her.”
    He lifted his eyebrows at her personification of the luminary, but other than that, let the comment go. “How quickly can you get dressed?”
    “Five minutes.”
    “That fast?”
    “What’s to take time with?” she said, lifting the towel from her shoulders and using it to rub her hair. “It’s warm outside, so there’s not a lot to put on. Not to mention I’ve barely got any clothes to choose from, so making a selection won’t take long.”
    “Well, we can remedy that. I noticed a few colorful items washing up on the shore, near where the boat’s docked. Probably your clothes. Go on, get ready. I’ll be waiting downstairs.”
    He turned to go, leaving her to it. And he wondered why he’d proposed what could be construed, he supposed, as a romantic evening together. Why would he put himself through that, take that risk, just because she had stopped herself from invading his privacy? Was it really all that impressive that she had managed not to do something that almost anyone would see as rude and unacceptable?
    Given his experience with women in the past? Yes. It was that impressive.

Chapter 8
     
    “H ere we are.” He nodded toward a tipped-over log that lay on the beach, just where the palm trees met the sand.
    They were in a different spot from where she’d fallen asleep earlier. They’d circled the shoreline a little bit farther and come to a cozy cove where he’d built his own private dock.
    “You can sit right there,” he told her. “I’ve found that the log makes a comfortable back-rest.”
    But she didn’t sit. She was too busy staring at the small sailboat tied to the pier he’d built in a tiny inlet where the water was shallow and mostly still. It was a small sailboat with a large motor attached, though its sails were tightly furled at the moment. The name Santa Maria XIII was painted in a beautiful, old-world-style script across the stern. She wondered about that XIII, even as she