The lifeguard chair stood like a sentinel on the white sandy expanse of the town beach. The afternoon was hot and still, and Hayden Young, the lifeguard, opened the colorful beach umbrella that was attached to the back of his chair.

Leila and Frankie sat in their beach chairs and tried not to stare, at least not too obviously.

Hayden was everything Frankie had said he was. Blond, tanned, and muscular. As she strolled casually past the lifeguard chair, Leila had even had a glimpse of the electric blue eyes he normally kept carefully hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

He was almost laughably gorgeous.

His hair was long and thick, and he wore it back in a ponytail. His jaw was strong, his cheekbones were chiseled, and his nose was perfect, just the right size for his face.

"So this is what's coming out of the university's philosophy program these days," Leila mused, spreading more sunblock on the tops of her feet and that one badly sunburned place she had along the edge of her bathing suit. Lord, it was hot today. She wished she had an umbrella to shade herself, too.

"He's also a trained EMT," Frankie reminded her. "You know, he's teaching a CPR course down in the church basement over the next four Monday nights. I tried to sign up. I figured in my line of work, CPR might be good to know. But apparently, the class was filled to capacity weeks ago."

Leila grinned. "You could always ask him for private lessons."

"Or you could. You're the one who wants to kiss him."

They watched as several little children approached the lifeguard chair carrying a yellow bucket. They talked to Hayden, craning their necks, pointing inside the bucket. Hayden climbed down from his perch and crouched in the sand to talk to the children.

"My God, he's nice to kids, too," Leila said. "Tell me, honestly, what would you do with a guy who's that good-looking? Everywhere you went, you'd have a swarm of women following. Or at least looking."

"And drooling," Frankie added. "Definitely drooling. It would get very soggy."

"Who needs it?" Leila asked. "Not me."

"Me neither."

Hayden Young ruffled one of the boys' hair and waved good-bye as the children ran off. He climbed up the ladder to his chair, his muscles rippling in the sunshine.

"On the other hand…" Frankie said.

"Mmm, I know what you mean."

They lapsed into silence, and Leila closed her eyes. Her ninja hadn't been Liam Halliday or Preston Seaholm. Hayden Young was last on her list of suspects, except for good old married Robert Earle in Atlanta. But what if it hadn't been Earle either? That would mean that somewhere on Sunrise Key there was another ninja.

But who could it be?

Leila tried to remember the night of Simon's party, tried to remember the man who had silently asked her to dance, who hadn't taken no for an answer.

Hayden Young's shoulders were awfully broad. Had her ninja really had shoulders like that?

Try as she might, she couldn't conjure up any clear memory of her mystery man. Except for those kisses. If he kissed her again, she'd recognize him, that was for sure. But as far as his height and weight and the width of his shoulders went, she couldn't remember a thing. Instead, a picture of Marsh, sitting on the hood of the jeep, gazing at her in the moonlight, kept popping into her head.

He'd left the house before she even woke up this morning. Simon told her that Marsh had scheduled appointments all day; he wouldn't be back until nearly seven o'clock.

Marsh must feel like hell. He wasn't a heavy drinker, in fact he barely ever touched the stuff. He'd told her years before that he stopped drinking after he went to medical school and found out exactly what alcohol did to the human body. He'd become a vegetarian at about the same time.

"What's your plan for Hayden Young?" Frankie asked. "Are you gonna go for the direct approach again? The way you did with the sheriff?"

"I don't know. Hey, Frankie?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think of Marsh Devlin?" She opened her eyes and looked at her friend.

Frankie was wearing sunglasses, so Leila couldn't see her eyes, but her eyebrows were definitely raised.

"The accent's to die for, and he's really good-looking. Different from the beach boy," she added, gesturing toward Hayden with her chin, "but still handsome." She shrugged. "He's got nice hands, too. Remember the time I thought I broke my ankle? Marsh checked it out. It hurt like hell, but it would've been a lot worse if he hadn't been so gentle. He seems nice. He's always so polite…"

Leila sat forward. "But?"

"He's so reserved." Frankie smiled apologetically. "I don't know, Lei, it's hard for me to be objective because he's definitely not my type of guy." She grinned. "Of course, I haven't quite figured out yet who my type of guy is. But Marsh, he's too chilly, you know? Like if you get too close, you might freeze to death."

Leila shook her head. "I used to think that, too. But lately, when I'm around him I definitely don't feel as if I'm going to freeze to death."

"Using my superior observational skills as a private detective, I'd say you sound like you'd rather kiss Marsh Devlin than Hayden Young."

"Isn't that weird?" Leila said. "Marsh and I have done nothing but fight for years, and now, all of a sudden, I feel as if there's some bizarre magnet pulling me toward him. I've been really talking with him, too. I've been finding out things about him that I never knew before. He's not at all chilly, not even close. He's warm and kind and wonderfully sweet … and I sound like an idiot, don't I?"

Frankie grinned. "Do you remember that summer back in high school when you had a crush on Alan Johnson?"

Leila shook her head. "This isn't a crush."

"I know," Frankie said. "Back then you sounded like an idiot, going on and on for hours about how Alan wore his hair and the shape of his chin, and whether or not his hitting his car horn whenever he drove past you on Main Street meant something. What you're saying now sounds very different to me."

Leila closed her eyes and lifted her face to the warm sunshine. It sounded different because it was different. What she felt about Marsh wasn't a schoolgirl crush. It was more than that. It was bigger. It was… No, she couldn't even bring herself to think the L-word.

Falling in love wasn't a bad idea. In fact, it was something she'd always hoped would happen to her. But falling in love with Marshall Devlin was the last thing she wanted to do.

Marsh wanted her to move back to Sunrise Key, to be reabsorbed by the small-town life that she'd worked so hard to leave behind. But she prided herself on her independence. If she came back, she'd be treated like a child again. She'd suffocate from the lack of privacy.

Yet…

Leila opened her eyes and glanced over at her friend. Frankie wasn't suffocating. Frankie had lived on Sunrise Key all her life, but she didn't feel penned in or trapped by the constant gossiping and prevalent nosiness. In fact, she joined in, happily keeping track of the island's goings-on. But they were two different people, with two different sets of priorities.

Leila sighed, closing her eyes again and letting her thoughts drift. They drifted directly to Marsh, but she was too sleepy to fight it. She fell asleep, dreaming about the way he wore his hair and the shape of his chin—and the way he talked to her, sharing his secrets with her, sharing and showing her the warmth of his soul.

"Excuse me, miss."

The voice was deep and resonant and very male, but Leila was too tired to open her eyes. Besides, whoever he was, he probably wasn't talking to her. He was probably talking to someone else farther down the beach, and the wind was probably carrying his voice, making him sound as if he were standing right next to her.

"Miss, I couldn't help but notice that you've been asleep for nearly two hours," the voice said, "and the sun's way too hot to stay in one position like this and… Hey, aren't you Simon Hunt's sister?"

He was talking to her. Because as far as Leila knew, Simon didn't have any other sisters. She opened her eyes.

It was Hayden Young, suspected ninja and hunk lifeguard—live and in person and standing directly in front of her.

"Yes." Her voice sounded rusty from sleep, and she cleared her throat. She glanced over to where Frankie's chair had been, but the beach was empty. She vaguely remembered Frankie telling her good-bye, that it was time for her to go to work. "Simon's my brother. My name's Leila."

Hayden held out his hand. "Yep, I know." He gave her a smile worthy of a men's fitness magazine cover.

"You do?" Leila shook his hand. It was big. Big fingers, big palm. It engulfed hers almost entirely.

"Simon's mentioned you the few times we've talked," Hayden said. "And so has the town doctor—what's his name?—Devlin. Dr. Devlin. The Englishman." He didn't let go of her hand. Instead he tugged on it. "Come on. I'm on my way up to the concession stand. You should get out of the sun for a while and put some liquids into your system."

"All right." Leila let him pull her effortlessly out of her beach chair. This was perfect. Or almost perfect, anyway. It would be perfect if she could only think of a way to get him to kiss her. How on earth was she going to do that?

More than just Hayden Young's hands were big. Standing next to him, he was close to half a foot taller than she was, and even more muscular up close. With his long hair, he looked more like a professional wrestler than a philosophy doctoral candidate.

The effect of being pulled to her feet so suddenly after being sound asleep made her light-headed, and she swayed. Hayden reached out to steady her, putting his hands on her waist. His touch was extremely impersonal. In fact, it was remarkable how it didn't make her heart flutter.

"Yep, you definitely need some fluids." He kept one arm around her as they started up the beach.

Leila was grateful for his support but very aware of the many curious eyes watching them. "Careful." She glanced up at him. "You may want to grab hold of my elbow … or someplace a little less friendly looking. If we walk up the beach arm in arm like this, telephones all over Sunrise Key are going to start ringing."

Hayden grinned down at her. "I've noticed that gossip is a team sport here on the key. It doesn't take much to get those rumors flying, does it?"

Leila arched an eyebrow. "You sound like a man who's been burned."

"My third day on the key, I had lunch with Maggie O'Banyon. Do you know her? She works in that little souvenir shop on the road that leads out to the point?"

Leila nodded. "I know Maggie. Let me guess. You and Maggie had a friendly lunch, and by that evening, the entire town was planning your wedding."

"You got it." Hayden released her as they went under the open-air roof of the concession stand, watching her carefully to make sure she was all right. "Maggie was more upset about it than I was." He moved to the end of the refreshment line and took off his sunglasses. "I thought it was funny. But it seems she had been seeing a man who lived out on Captiva Island for quite some time, but no one knew. In order to kill the rumors about her and me, she had to tell everyone about this other guy."

"And you weren't upset by the rumors at all?"

"Like I said, it was funny. Although I have to confess, I haven't asked anyone to lunch since then. Or dinner either." He smiled. "I haven't wanted to risk starting any other rumors."

"I don't blame you." So much for kissing him. He may have put his arm around her, but he'd never in a million years kiss her right there on the public beach.

Oddly enough, Leila didn't care. It simply didn't matter. Despite the fact that Hayden Young was friendly and gorgeous, she couldn't picture herself falling in love with him. Even if he was her ninja and could kiss like a dream come true.

They'd reached the front of the line, and Hayden leaned on the counter, turning slightly to look back at Leila. "What'll you have?" he asked.

"I don't need anything," Leila said. "My purse is in the trunk of my car and—"

"My treat," Hayden offered. "What'll it be? Soda pop? Or a fruit slush? Or maybe some juice?"

She was thirsty. "A small ginger ale? No ice?"

"Make it a large," Hayden told the teenaged boy behind the counter. "And I'll have a large orange juice."

Leila leaned against the rough wood of the building's center support pole. She wasn't light-headed any longer, but she felt slightly odd. "I have to point out," she said to Hayden, "that you have risked starting another rumor by putting your arm around me on the beach, and now—horrors—by buying me a ginger ale. Don't you know that buying a woman a soda pop from the town beach concession stand is just a mere step away from buying her an engagement ring?"

Hayden laughed, his straight, white teeth gleaming. "If you want to know the truth, Leila, I figured you were safe."

Safe? What did he mean by safe? Safe enough to flirt with over a soda at the town beach? Or safe enough to kiss the heck out of at midnight on New Year's Eve?

"Everyone knows you've got something going with Dr. Devlin."

"Excuse me?"

He handed her an enormous paper cup of soda pop. "Uh-oh. Maybe that's just another rumor. You're not involved with the doctor?"

Leila sighed. "I wish," she murmured, voicing her thoughts before she stopped to think. Who was listening? She looked around, but although there were a number of covert glances being cast in their direction, no one was close enough to have heard her. Except, of course, Hayden.

He shook his head. "I don't get it. Dr. Devlin talks about you all the time. And I thought I saw you two together at Simon's party. Even if I hadn't heard the rumors, I would have thought…"

But Leila and Marsh had fought at Simon's party. Still…

"Really? Do you think…?" My God, what was she doing, talking about her relationship with Marsh this way to a man who was almost a stranger?

"He's so reserved, so cool," Hayden said thoughtfully. "And maybe that's his problem. Maybe what he needs is to get heated up some." He smiled at her, a conspiratorial glint in his eyes. "I've got an idea."

Mary Lou Tennison's strident voice carried back from the reception area, into Marsh's office. With a sigh, he massaged his aching temples, then rose from behind his desk to shut the door. But before he even touched the doorknob, her words to Helen Burke, his nurse, caught his ear.

"And then," Mary Lou intoned, "Hayden Young kissed Leila Hunt. Right in the middle of the picnic area. Right on the mouth."

Marsh leaned his throbbing head against the doorframe, suddenly frightfully weary. Leila had done it. Somehow she'd managed to kiss the lifeguard.

"It wasn't just a little kiss," Mary Lou continued. "It was a very, very big kiss. Full body contact. The second hand on my watch went completely around the dial once … if not twice. It was like something out of From Here to Eternity, only without the rolling around in the surf. I nearly dropped the kids' fruit slushes on the floor."

Marsh started to close the door. God help him, he didn't need to hear this.

"And then," Mary Lou lowered her voice to a loud stage whisper, "She's breathing hard, he's breathing hard, the entire concession stand is silent, you could have heard a pin drop, and he says—" she paused dramatically. Marsh found himself leaning out into the hallway. "'When can I see you again?'"

Marsh closed his eyes as his head began to pound even harder. God, no. Sheriff Halliday hadn't really been a rival for Leila's affections, despite his good looks. But Young was bloody perfect. He was smart, handsome, and so damned nice it was sickening. If the lifeguard decided to pursue Leila, Marsh didn't stand a chance.

"What did Leila say?" Helen asked Mary Lou.

Marsh held his breath.

"She said, and I quote: 'You can see me whenever you want.'"

Marsh slammed the door.

When Leila got home from the town beach, there were two unfamiliar cars parked in the driveway. Visitors. Some of Simon's many friends, no doubt. His new girlfriend, Amanda, probably. But who else?

As she got out of her car, she stopped for a moment, feeling dizzy. The dull headache she'd been fighting ever since Hayden Young had woken her up on the beach suddenly exploded into full, pounding pain.

Leila went inside. The house was dark and cool, and her head should have felt better, but it still throbbed persistently. She needed some Tylenol, and a solid jolt of caffeine. She'd skipped her morning cup of coffee and she was paying for it now. With any luck, Simon had some cola stashed away in the fridge. The sound of voices and laughter came from the deck, and before she went into the kitchen, she went to investigate.

Simon was leaning against the railing, his arm around an ethereal-looking dark-haired woman who was gazing up at him with far too much adoration in her eyes. She had to be Amanda. She was younger than the women he usually dated, and her prettiness was more subtle, more delicate. She was wearing a long, loose, sleeveless dress that went all the way down to her ankles. She looked radiantly happy, poor thing.

Nancy Sullivan was sitting across the deck from them, nursing a tall glass of iced tea, and Leila stopped short in surprise.

"Hi." Nancy smiled. "I stopped in a little while ago, to see if you were around." She looked like the cat that had caught the canary. "I answered the phone while Simon was in the pool, and just so happened to speak with someone named Elliot?"

Elliot. "He called?"

"You didn't tell me you had a fiancé."

Leila shook her head. "He's not my fiancé—"

"Simon tells me that Elliot wants you to get married in New York City. He said that Elliot thinks a wedding reception is the perfect opportunity to schmooze with his clients. That is the most unromantic thing I've ever heard in my life. Leila, didn't you know that the wedding usually takes place in the bride's hometown?"

"I'm not getting married," Leila said, but no one seemed to be paying her much attention.

"I'm from Burlington, Vermont," Amanda volunteered. She pushed her glistening brown hair back from her face as she smiled up at Simon. "But I don't want to get married there. Ever since I was little, I've wanted to get married on the beach."

Leila caught Simon's eye and he squirmed slightly. Nothing like talk of marriage to make him want to run and hide. But somehow he remembered his manners and introduced Amanda to Leila.

"I don't think the wedding necessarily has to be in the bride's hometown," Nancy said. "But it is supposed to be the bride's choice. Her family throws and pays for the party, after all."

"I'd choose the beach," Amanda repeated. "Right here on Sunrise Key. It's so beautiful … I could stay here forever."

"How about you, Simon," Leila asked her brother sweetly. "What do you think about getting married on the beach?"

Simon smiled weakly, well aware that Amanda was watching him. "To tell you the truth, I haven't really thought about it. It's going to be a long time before I get married. A long time."

But Amanda didn't look fazed, particularly when Leila said, "Si, I remember you saying what a great month April is here on the key. You said it was the perfect month to get married."

"At the time, I was talking about Noah and Kim Kavanaugh's wedding plans." Simon sent Leila a dangerous look.

"Oh, but I saw that envious look in your eye," Leila teased. She desperately needed that Tylenol, but the look on Simon's face was worth the wait. "And I caught you flipping through Kim's copy of Modern Bride magazine."

Her brother's eyes told her he wanted to wring her neck. But when he spoke, he said only one word. "Ninja." He said it softly but quite clearly.

"Excuse me?" said Nancy.

"Did you say ninja?" Amanda asked.

Simon was still looking at her, and Leila knew, without a doubt, that it was time to back down. "So, Nance." She turned to Nancy. "You have any plans for tonight?"

"Did I miss something?" Amanda asked, clearly confused.

"Actually, I was going to ask you if you wanted to go out and grab something to eat," Nancy said to Leila.

Amanda still looked perplexed. "What do ninjas have to do with Modern Bride magazine?"

Leila pulled a chair up next to Nancy's and sat down. "I don't know, Nance, I'm tired and kind of dizzy. I got too much sun today." Maybe she had some Tylenol in her beach bag. She searched through it quickly. No luck. "I think I'd rather stay in tonight. But you're welcome to stay for dinner." She looked at Simon. "What's on tonight's menu? More of those nasty little tofu hot dogs that you're so fond of?"

"Marsh is bringing home a couple of pizzas," Simon said. He looked at his watch. "Of course, if he's too much later, we'll have to call it breakfast."

"If you're sure there'll be enough, I'd love to stay," Nancy said.

"Wow, you're really sunburned," Amanda told Leila. "Did you spend all afternoon at the town beach?"

"Most of it."

"You went to the town beach?" Nancy asked, surprised. "Why? You have a terrific beach right here, inches from your house."

"Yes, Leila," Simon said pointedly, "why don't you tell us all why you went to the town beach this afternoon."

"Um, it was just a whim." She ignored Simon's wicked smile. "Frankie and I felt like going over there. We haven't been to the town beach in years, and…" She stood up. "Gee, will you look at the time! And I'm covered with sand." Simon's grin was triumphant as Leila beat a retreat. "I better take a shower before it gets too late."

Leila was sunburned. It didn't seem too bad, just enough to give her already tanned skin a reddish glow, and to make her feel hot. She lathered her body with lotion and got dressed, pulling on an oversized T-shirt and a loose-fitting pair of shorts.

As she went down the hall toward the stairs, she wobbled slightly. God, she was so hungry, she was lightheaded. Or maybe it was all that sun she'd had today. Whatever the case, all she wanted was to let the cool evening breeze soothe her warm face. And eat dinner. Except she was feeling a little queasy. But that was probably just the side effects of the aspirin she'd washed down with a can of cola after she searched to no avail for a bottle of nonaspirin pain reliever.

Leila carefully held the banister as she went down the stairs. As she crossed the foyer, she nearly ran smack into Marsh. Her heart soared crazily at the sight of him.

"Whoa." The short stop made her head pound almost as hard as her pulse. "Hi. If you're here, then pizza must be nearby."

He was still wearing his work clothes, and she watched as he tightened his tie around his neck and slipped back into his sports jacket.

"It's on the deck," he said shortly and went out the front door.

Leila followed him, standing with her bare feet on the warm asphalt of the driveway. "Marsh!" she called. "Aren't you going to have dinner?"

He turned back to look at her. His face was expressionless. "I seem to have lost my appetite."

She took a step toward him. "You're not still feeling the effects of last night, are you?"

Marsh laughed harshly. "Apparently last night had no lasting effect." His eyes were icy cold with anger. "To say I'm disappointed is an understatement. But you needn't worry. I received your message this time, loud and clear, thank you very much. I'll keep my distance from now on. And I'd appreciate it if you'd do the same. In other words, stay out of my affairs—financial or otherwise." He started down the driveway but turned back. "Oh, and I heard you found your ninja. Congratulations. I hope you'll both be very happy."

Leila stared at him blankly. His words didn't make sense. He was angry, but she didn't, for the life of her, know why. He climbed into the jeep and, with an angry squeal of tires, drove away.

Hayden Young. Somehow Marsh had already heard about her staged encounter with the lifeguard. But that had almost been an afterthought. Most of his anger had been about something else. But what? Racking her brain, Leila went in search of Simon. Maybe he knew.

Simon was out on the deck, eating a slice of pizza. Leila pushed open the french doors and went outside and…

Nancy Sullivan was reaching into the pizza box for another slice.

Nancy Sullivan.

Oh, shoot. Leila's throbbing head pounded even harder.

Marsh thought Leila had invited Nancy over for dinner in order to play matchmaker. No wonder he was so angry. But he was wrong. True, Leila had invited Nancy to stay for dinner, but there had been no ulterior motive involved.

Because Leila, herself, was in love with Marsh.

That was what this was, this strange sensation, these feelings of euphoria combined with frustration and fear and hope. That was why one glance into Marsh's eyes made gravity disappear and her heart turn somersaults. It was love. After all these years of fighting tooth and nail, Leila had fallen completely, irrationally, passionately in love with Marsh.

True love.

With Marshall Devlin.

The light-headedness was back, full force. Leila closed her eyes and clung to the deck railing.

"Are you all right?" Nancy said. "You look a little green."

"I'm fine," Leila managed to say. She opened her eyes and looked up at Nancy. "Just a little dizzy. Too much sun and no lunch are a bad combination."

"Are you sure? Marsh was just here," Nancy told her, "but he had to go out again. Do you want me to try to catch him? Do you need a doctor?"

Leila did need a doctor. Specifically, a doctor named Marshall Devlin. But her needs had nothing to do with her light-headedness, and everything to do with her heart.

She shook her head. "I'm okay. Just hungry. Grab me a piece of pizza, pronto, can you?"

"Sure." Nancy returned in an instant, with a thick, cheesy slice on one of Simon's antique plates.

"This is just what I need," Leila said.

And everything went black.