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of one-sided conversation she couldn't help but listen to with rapt interest.

So far she'd learned that there was one small town and five major estates on the entire island, none within walking distance of the others. The wealthy neighbors rarely crossed paths, while in the town-which supplied the necessities for the visiting inhabitants-the neighbors hung out, gossiped and treated each other like family. That, she discovered, was why Damian loved the place.

He could find either privacy or a sense of small-town kinsmanship, whichever he desired at the moment. On first glance at the island, Micki completely understood his reasoning, but she wasn't about to tell him so. Because she wasn't speaking to him unless she absolutely had to.

'My sisters and their families use the house on their vacations,' he said as he continued to drive.

'I'm not in the mood for idle chitchat.'

'There's not much else to do to pass the time during the ride.'

He wanted to talk? She'd talk. 'You brought me here against my will. I think that's called kidnapping.'

'So sue me.' He laughed. 'Your uncle wanted you to have some peace until this blew over and there's nowhere more peaceful than Casa de Fuller.'

She didn't know who she was more upset with, her family for treating her like a baby or Damian for buying into it. 'It was one picture in a New York newspaper. I can handle the fallout.'

'I'm sure you can,' he said in a soothing voice.

'If you believe that, then why bring me here?'

'Your uncle asked me to. Since the photo showed you out of control, the publicist who can't practice what she preaches, Yank's worried. And since I had a role in last night's mess, he holds me responsible. The least I could do was help fix things.'

Damian's gentlemanly side was rearing its head again. 'What role are you referring to?' she asked. 'That of savior?'

He gripped the wheel more tightly. 'Instigator. I got the definite feeling that when you saw me with Carole, it set you off somehow.'

'Who's Carole?' she asked, deliberately playing dumb.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing grin. 'My date last night.'

'Date? Is that what you call her?' Micki asked and immediately could have bitten her tongue in two.

She might not want to reveal her insecurities, but she didn't have to insult another woman just because she was jealous of Damian's interest in someone so feminine.

'It wasn’t you or your date that set me off. Not exactly.' As she glanced down at her unpainted fingernails, the words she kept inside of her spilled free. 'I've always been the tomboy in the family, I guess because of how close I was to Uncle Yank. When my parents died I trailed after my uncle like he was a god.' From the day she'd gone to live with him, Uncle Yank had always been there, the most dominant presence in her life.

Damian nodded in understanding. 'He took you and your sisters in. Idolizing him wouldn't be all that unusual.'

'It was beyond idolizing. I never felt like myself around my sisters, but it was different with Uncle Yank. He just understood me from the beginning.'

'So you were into sports, but somehow I doubt you were an ordinary tomboy' He turned toward her, his gaze meeting hers. 'Because there's nothing ordinary about you,' he said in a husky voice, taking her off guard.

She swallowed hard, fighting the sexual and emotional effect his words had on her. 'I definitely had the most masculine role models you can imagine.' Still, she rarely regretted her choices. She not only idolized her uncle, she adored him. 'It's just that there are times I wish I'd chosen Sophie or Annabelle to worship because maybe then I-'

She clamped her mouth shut before she said more, realizing how much insight into her soul she'd nearly given a man who definitely wouldn't plan on returning the favor. He'd told her as much, admitting the women he chose to be with were the ones who knew the score. Women who'd let him easily walk away.

They both knew she didn't fit the mold.

Damian gripped the steering wheel tightly and spared a quick glance at Micki. The wind had blown her blond curls around her face in an adorable tangled mess, but it was her silence that caught his attention.

'You okay?' he asked.

She nodded, but whatever she'd been about to reveal remained locked inside her.

Not for the first time, he wondered what made this enigmatic woman tick. A tomboy who was comfortable in a locker room full of naked men, yet a female who was uncomfortable in her own skin. What an interesting mix of contradictions she presented.

At least she was speaking to him again. He hoped his next comment wouldn't put the barrier right back up. 'My guess is that you wish you'd spent more time with your sisters and then maybe you wouldn't be thought of as one of the boys.'

'What makes you say that?' she asked, her voice tight with tension.

'Something you said last night.'

'I wouldn't remember.'

She was lying, he thought. She remembered everything about last night as clearly as he did.

Suddenly his estate loomed ahead and he pulled onto the private paved road that led to his home. When he hit the remote he kept in his car, two large iron gates slowly opened before them. He pulled up the circular driveway and parked in front. Before he could say anything else, Micki hopped out of the Jeep ahead of him.

He'd have liked to continue their talk, but there would be more than enough time to ask her questions later. Unless she bailed and headed back for New York. A thought he suddenly didn't find all that appealing,

MICKI STOOD in Damian's large kitchen, which seemed to be the center of the first floor. On one side there was a functional working area and on the other, a long counter surrounded by bar stools. In the middle stretched a large table that seated six. Attached to that was a family room with a flat-screen TV, visible from all angles of the kitchen.

Damian dropped his keys and walked straight to an answering machine, which he noticed was blinking red. He hit a button and an electronic voice informed him there were seven messages.,

'Hi, it's Ronnie. Just wanted to make sure you got down there safely. Call me.'

Damian glanced at Micki. 'That's my youngest sister,' he explained without being asked.

'Hi, Damian. It's Brenda. We're worried about you and that wrist. Call us.'

Micki shot him a questioning look.

'The middle one.' He rolled his eyes, but the gesture was purely indulgent.

'It's Dad. Your mother's driving me crazy. She's been calling every hour and hanging up no matter how many times I explain you won't get home until later. Check in before she drives me batty. Oww. Damn woman pinched me. Call-' His message was cut off by the beep signaling the end of his allotted time.

Micki laughed.

'Uncle Damian, I need you. Mom won't let me go to the movies with a boy. How ancient is that? You have to talk to her. Puhleeze!' The young girlish voice whined into the phone.

Damian shook his head. 'Melanie. She's sixteen going on twenty-six.'

'Hi, baby brother, it's Marissa. The girls are making me insane. One wants to date, the other won't leave her room. We're home for the night. Call and let us know how the wrist is doing.'

He ran a hand through his hair and turned away, obviously growing embarrassed by the train of phone calls. Embarrassed but not annoyed, Micki noted, as another female voice chimed in next

'It's Ronnie again. I didn't buy your I'm fine act. I know you're upset and worried about not being able to play ball. Call me.'

A beep and then a voice said, 'Hi, honey. You could call your mother every once in a while.'

Micki swallowed a laugh.

And finally, the electronic voice chimed in next saying, 'End of messages.'

'You're lucky to have them, you know. All of them,' Micki said, keenly aware of the importance of her sisters, uncle and Lola in her life. None made up for the absence of her parents but she'd be adrift without them and was grateful for them all.

Damian glanced over his shoulder and met her gaze. 'I know. But it's a wonder I turned out straight. I mean,