"So my friend said the rooftop is right. Up. Here." Colin forced open a door with his shoulder, and we burst into the wan sun. "Aha. Yes."

We'd spent the morning in bed and also in the shower, where we'd crammed into the small space, with Colin eventually getting on his knees to lick me and tease me. I trembled from all the pleasure, since I hadn't been with anyone in years. It felt foreign and uncharted to have a man be that attentive to my body.

And really amazingly wonderful.

In the afternoon, we'd held hands as we'd strolled around the small city and ate lunch on the waterfront. At several points, Colin kissed me in public, which warmed me from the inside out. I laughed a lot, more than I had in recent memory. Somehow being away from my home, my business, and my usual circle of friends on Palm Beach made me let go of my anxiety.

Oh, sure, it was still there, around the edges. I didn't expect Colin to take it away by giving me a few body-rocking orgasms and a few tender kisses while cupping my face.

But as he poured wine into glasses on the condo rooftop that night—our third in Iceland—I started to fantasize that maybe, just maybe, Colin and I might have a future once we both returned to Florida. I considered this as I stared at the sea. So what if he was five years younger? We seemed well matched.

"Pumpkin, you must see this," Colin called out. He had wandered off, looking for a second lounge chair. And that's what he'd called me all day, the endearing English translation of my last name. Every time he said it in his sexy, low voice, I swooned.

Pumpkin.

I joined him at the other end of the roof and drew in a breath when I saw what was painted on the adjacent building.

"My God, look at that," I said.

"It's what I wanted to show you. Isn't it remarkable?"

It was a surrealist mural, one that took up almost the entirety of the building. Done mostly in purple and blue and grey hues, it portrayed a raven-haired vampire biting the neck of a purple-haired woman in his arms. Her head was thrown back, revealing her neck. Her eyes were closed, almost in ecstasy, and her arms wrapped desperately around the savage, bloodthirsty man. She appeared relaxed, yet ravaged, and the intensity of the enormous street art was unsettling to me.

"Wow." I gulped my wine. My eyes scanned some words in Icelandic along the side of the mural, and I pointed. "I wonder what the caption says, down there on the right."

Colin rested his glass on a planter filled with red flowers and took his phone out of his pocket. He tapped and swiped, then blew out a breath as he looked at the mural.

"It's from an Icelandic saga, and it means, 'I was worst to those I loved the most.'"

I repeated the words. "Well, I can certainly think of some people that would apply to."

"Yeah." Colin took a drink and his expression became hard. "Me too."

We drank in silence, staring at the brash mural and standing side-by-side.

"Want to tell me about him?" he asked gently.

I snorted a laugh. "My ex-husband. Aidan. We married young. I was twenty- six, he was three years younger. A polo player. I had recently started my business, thanks to Clementine, my mentor."

"Right, she was mentioned in that Vogue article I read."

I nodded. "After graduation, I asked my parents for a loan, thinking I'd paid my dues by getting scholarships and working throughout school to support myself without their help. But they said no and were insistent on shutting me out of the family's wealth. So Clementine helped me, which annoyed my parents. They couldn't understand why she believed in me, why she would give me money to start a fashion line. Of course, it was because she had so much money she didn't know what to do with it. And my parents couldn't comprehend why I was in love with Aidan, who was a polo player and not from a 'proper' background." I used my fingers to make air quotes when I said the word proper.

"So you rebelled against your parents?" Colin sipped his wine and smiled, tight-lipped.

I shrugged. "I was the perfect daughter in high school. They wanted me to be a successful lawyer and marry someone equally rich and powerful in Boston. Carry on the family tradition. You know, summers on the Vineyard, winters in Vermont. But I wanted what I wanted. I met Aidan at a polo match in Palm Beach. He was Argentinean and self-made, and I thought I was in love. I thought he was in love. And it didn't hurt that my parents hated him."

"But?"

I poured myself more wine. "My parents were right, at least about Aidan. He became resentful of my overnight success. His emotional distance turned into verbal abuse. He'd make fun of my anxiety. I responded by turning inward. I buried myself in my work and somehow became more successful because I was determined not to fail. Then I found out something even worse."

"He was having an affair." Colin said this matter-of-factly.

"No. No, that's what everyone assumes. He'd suffered a knee injury and wasn't able to play polo, so he'd gone to work for my business. But he was stealing from me and gambling. Hundreds of thousands of dollars from the company. When he was supposed to be helping me invest so we could expand, he was spending it on high-end card games, sports bookies, and even, as I found out, horse racing. He was addicted to gambling. It's why I've been forced to stay a boutique brand instead of expanding globally—I lost the money I was supposed to use for the expansion. My advisors say my niche appeal has put me in more demand with luxury fashion consumers, but I don't know. I second-guess myself a lot. It's what happens when someone you trust betrays you."

I tried to hide the bitterness in my voice, but it was unmistakable.

"I'm sorry." Colin rubbed my back with his hand. "You're better off without him."

"Obviously. The worst part, if there could be one, is that he also stole from my mentor. He'd talked Clementine into allowing him to handle her affairs. It all came to light when she died, and that's when we divorced four years ago. Wait. No, the worst part was when he told me that he'd married me because he'd thought I had access to lots of money."

Colin swore and shook his head.

"My family has recently forgiven me for marrying him. I think. At least they started to forgive me when I testified against him during his fraud trial last year and he was put in federal prison for ten years."

Colin let out a low whistle. "Wow. That took some guts on your part to testify. You could have declined under spousal privilege."

"I know. But I hated him for what he did to me and Clementine. I could never forgive him."

"Understood. But have you forgiven yourself?"

I laughed, unable to hide my sneer or my anger. I broke away from Colin's arm and paced a few steps.

"It's one reason why I tend to stay in my estate. I feel ashamed that I trusted a man like that. I feel like the entire island of Palm Beach is whispering about me, wondering if I was in on Aidan's schemes. I'm trying to rise above it all. It's not easy. And I'm trying like hell to rebuild my relationship with my parents. Trying to forgive. Of course, my continued success has gone a long way toward defrosting their hearts. It turns out I wasn't such an idiot after all."

"Of course you're not an idiot. I can't believe anyone would think that of you." Colin took a drink. "So why haven't you moved your business? Relocated to somewhere else for a fresh start?"

"I have a lifestyle brand. It's based around palm trees and sunshine and Florida living. One of my merchandise slogans is, 'Life is limitless with palm trees and blue skies.'" I smirked. "I put these on stationary and t-shirts and journals and such. Here's another: 'It's not always a beach day, but every day is a beachy state of mind.'"

He gazed at me and I couldn't read his expression.

"So I can't market that lifestyle from New York. Or Paris. Plus, I love my estate. It's gorgeous. It's my sanctuary. You should see it sometime."

Colin nodded, and I returned to his side. We stood in silence, the midnight sun beating down on us. Unlike other nights, tonight was relatively warm. I took off my new, white alpaca scarf and lay it over the back of a nearby chair.

"And you?" I wanted to know his secrets, now that he knew mine. I pressed my arm into his. "Who was the person who was worst to you?"

He stared hard at the mural, unblinking. "Me. I was worst to those I loved the most."

I swallowed, trying to regulate my heart, which for some reason had started to pound. Out of nervousness, I gathered my hair and swept it over one shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"I've never told anyone this."

I nodded, unsure I wanted to continue. Maybe this was too heavy of a conversation for a weekend fling. Or maybe we'd crossed the fling threshold and were in some unknown, deep terrain of the heart.

"When my brother went missing in Brazil, everything fell apart. Sure, I kept it together on the surface. I ran the family business, coordinated a search for him from Florida, made sure my sister and parents maintained their sanity. I also helped my sister-in-law Emma, who was pregnant at the time. A high-risk pregnancy."

The way he said her name sent chills through my body and not good ones. I recalled how his face had lit up when he'd called her on the plane. "And?"

"I cared for her by cooking and playing cards and spending time with her. She was devastated by Caleb's absence, of course."

"Of course."

"And it brought out some, um, feelings in me. Feelings that I fought. I became confused and thought I was her protector. And one night, about six months after she gave birth, we were in Miami together. We almost had sex."

"Almost. You almost slept with your sister-in-law." My voice was dull with disappointment.

"I thought my brother was dead. At the time, it made perfect sense."

"Ah. Did you fall in love with her?" My stomach had hardened into a tight knot.

"No. That's the thing. We had nothing in common. Have nothing in common. She's nice and all, but no. That one night I was extremely drunk. She was, too. So it didn't happen, thank God. And then, shortly after that, Caleb returned. And I was slammed with regret. More than regret. Shame. I could see that Emma and Caleb were soul mates, and any feelings I had for her were because I was grieving my brother and wanted to...I don't know, step into his shoes. I'd always wanted to be my brother. He's a good man. The best."

I nodded solemnly and wondered if his brother knew about this. I wasn't about to ask.

"Why are you telling me all this? I'm a virtual stranger."

His eyes flashed, hard and wary. "I don't consider you a stranger, not after last night."

I licked my lips. "I normally don't get this intense with men this fast."

"I normally don't get this intense with women at all, Samantha." The sharpness of how he said my full name made me shrink away from him.

I nodded. "Sorry. So what happened with you and Emma, and you and your brother?"

He turned to look at the horizon. "Well, Emma and I had a conversation, about how I'd never put a woman front and center. Essentially, that I was selfish. And let me tell you, she made me feel two feet tall. Between our talk and Caleb's absence, I grew up. I can't explain it otherwise. I grew up. After my brother returned, I went out on a couple of dates with women and just didn't feel anything, didn't want sex, so I decided to be alone for a while. I stopped acting like an alpha asshole around women. I stopped everything. I wanted to be a better man. My own man."

"Hmm." I wished I could say something more intelligent, but I was trying to absorb all that I'd heard. Was he really as trustworthy as I had thought? I nervously set my glass next to Colin's and gripped the iron railing that ringed the rooftop. "I take it this all has something to do with why you're not married."

He nodded. "I thought that marriage was about settling for something mediocre. But then I figured out that life's too short to waste it on the wrong person. Or in my case, many wrong people."

"Interesting way of putting it."

"I see what Caleb and Emma have and what Laura and Sarah have. I'd like to have that, too, but in my own unique way." He bit his lip, and I guessed he was more nervous than I thought. "You're the first woman I've been with in two years."

My eyes widened.

"Please don't look surprised and skeptical. After my drunken debacle with Emma, I made a conscious decision to take a break from women. To sort out what I really wanted. To not jump into bed at every chance."

I turned to face him and soaked in his strong profile. Hadn't we slept together quickly? My stomach churned uncomfortably.

"And what do you truly want now, Colin?"

He faced me, and the light glinted off his blue eyes. The somber look that had been on his face while telling his story was gone, replaced with a sensual, hungry look.

"I want someone who I can sit in silence with and be perfectly comfortable."

I don't know why, but that's when I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him with everything I had, my questions and fears be damned. It didn't matter what he'd done in the past. No, all that mattered was that he was being open and honest with me.

As our tongues touched one another's, it occurred to me that this wild, untamed country was making me lose my normally rational, cautious mind.

"That's what I want, too," I breathed. He put his forehead to mine and shut his eyes.

"Good. And you know what else? I'm glad I waited, and I'm even more glad I found you after all that waiting. You feel right. So right." He spoke in a hushed voice, and I swear my soul melted right then.

He hoisted me against his body, gripping my bottom. I bit his neck, inspired by the mural, which made him growl.

We kissed and kissed. After several delicious moments, he stopped and looked at me, a crease between his eyebrows marring his beautiful face.

"Do you want another confession?" he asked.

I ran my hands down his chest. "After the last one, I'm not so sure. It was pretty intense."

He threw his head back and chuckled. "In the plane, when we were descending?"

I shivered at the memory. "Yes?"

"I was genuinely frightened."

I gaped at him. "You were? No. You didn't seem scared. You were so in control."

Colin shook his head. "I thought that was it. I assumed we were toast."

"I did, too."

He rubbed the sides of my arms. "I was so upset that I couldn't say goodbye to my family. And then I experienced another, incredibly intense feeling."

"Which was?"

"Regret."

"For everything you wouldn't achieve in life?"

Colin paused, and I took the moment to kiss his neck softly.

"Sort of. Regret that I'd just met you and that I wouldn't get to know you."

"You're just saying that," I whispered, stunned.

"No. I'm not. There's something both familiar and exciting about you, Samantha."

I nodded weakly and nestled into his chest.

"Maybe there was a reason the plane didn't crash," I murmured.

"I was thinking the same thing. Maybe what we went through on the plane is another sign from the universe that I should change direction. I've been cynical and skeptical about lessons and signs and metaphysical mumbo-jumbo. But I'm more open now to new ideas. At least I'm trying to be."

He hugged me tight and grabbed a fistful of my hair. I could hear him breathe, heavily, and I wondered if he could feel my heart pounding. I moaned when he planted a deep, scorching kiss on my lips.

"You are one good kisser," I whispered.

"Thank you. As are you. Come," he said, taking me by the hand and leading me to the door to the condo.

My knees felt rubbery because I knew what was coming: his mouth, his hands, his body. Pure bliss, total pleasure, and some downright carnal action. I actually swooned as I steadied myself on the stairs to the condo.

"What about the wine?"

"Leave it, Samantha. I need you, now."

I didn't argue.

____