Mystery in the Moonlight Read Free Page B

huskily.
    “W-what,” she managed to sputter before Jean pulled her to him, his lips smoothly covering hers. Surprised, she allowed him to kiss her, curious to see if he could make bells ring. He couldn’t. Disappointed, Caitlin broke the embrace before Jean’s tongue invaded her mouth. Placing her hands against his chest, she laughed a little self-consciously. “Do Frenchmen always move so fast? Isn’t this carrying flirtation a bit far?”
    “But I am quite serious about love.”
    For a minute she couldn’t reply. Looking over Jean’s shoulder, she became snared by searing green eyes that seemed to cast a spell over her. She smiled shakily.
    “If you want to be serious, you’ll have to find the right woman later.” Caitlin inched away, hoping to continue down the path by herself. “But right now I have to go meet Babs for dinner.”
    Seeming to make a quick decision, Jean followed her a few steps, a broad smile crossing his swarthy face. “Oh, I see how it is, petite dove. We will meet afterward, no? Then we will try moving…much more slowly.”
    Smiling politely but not bothering to answer him, Caitlin beat a hasty retreat. Glancing back at the Beach Bar, she was relieved to see that the stranger was gone. And as she neared the bungalow she was delighted to see Babs coming toward her wearing a gauzy yellow sundress and matching high heels.
    But the woman’s violet-blue eyes were stormy. “Are you coming to dinner?” Babs asked, folding her arms across her chest. “Or are you going to stay out here and neck with Jean Moreau all evening?”
    “I wasn’t necking!”
    “Oh, sure. I saw you kiss him on the path, so I started back for the bungalow. Then I decided to come back and interrupt the two of you, anyway.”
    Was Babs actually jealous? “Jean kissed me, but we can’t take it seriously. He’s simply an outrageous flirt and would kiss you, too, if he got the chance. I don’t even like him…in more than a friendly way,” she hastened to add, not wanting the other woman to be insulted if Babs were indeed really interested in Jean.
    “Hmm. Well, you don’t have to get so defensive.” Babs’s voice softened. “I don’t have any claims on Jean Moreau. He’s not my type, either. I guess it’s just that he’s the only eligible man around this borin’ ole island at the moment.”
    Wondering how her friend could possibly have missed the man with the green eyes, Caitlin told her, “I think Jean’s going to drop by the Caribbee Longhouse and invite us for after-dinner drinks.”
    “He will?” Babs’s sunny smile dimpled her cheeks. “That’ll be fun! We can both practice flirtin’ with him!”
    But as she walked back to the bungalow to change her clothes, listening to Babs go on and on about the subtle art of romance, Caitlin couldn’t help thinking about the handsome, rather brooding man in the bar. At the moment she could hardly remember the details of Jean’s kiss.
    If the stranger had kissed her in a like manner, would she ever forget?

Chapter Two
    Slouched over his beer, Bryce Winslow carefully eyed Jean Moreau and his “little dove,” nonchalantly turning to watch as they strolled down the walkway.
    How charmingly intimate, he thought sourly.
    His piercing gaze didn’t miss a nuance of movement when the Frenchman drew closer, his wiry arm encircling the fragile woman. The landlord of Hibiscus murmured something into her ear, and the woman’s answer was accompanied by what looked like a practiced smile.
    Eyes sliding away from her, Bryce gulped down his beer. It was nearly warm from the heat of the late afternoon sun, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth that reminded him of why he was there. Looking back at the couple, he narrowed his eyes and watched Moreau wrap his arms around his companion before very thoroughly kissing her.
    So the rumors that the Frenchman had a young American mistress who sometimes sailed with him must be true.
    This slender young woman with long,