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he needed a better plan than simply avoiding her. Even when she wasn’t physically in the room driving him nuts, she lingered in his mind in a most unsettling way. Just thinking about her made butterflies dance about his stomach—something he’d never experienced before.

Reaching the start of the trail, he stepped gratefully out of the sun into the cool shade of sprawling live oaks. Palm trees rustled overhead while a tangle of yaupon and scrub oak protected him from the steady gulf breeze. The crushed granite trail crunched beneath his Top-Siders as he turned the problem over in his mind.

The way he saw it, he had three options. One, he could tell her who he was, which would promptly put an end to her efforts to seduce him. Of course she’d likely kick him off the island as well.

He shook his head, rejecting that idea, since nothing about it appealed to him. Not only would he lose his connection to Marguerite, Allison would be hurt, and he couldn’t bear that.

Two, he could keep resisting her. He snorted at that idea since it stretched the bounds of believability a bit too far—even for someone with a vivid imagination.

Three, he could give in to temptation and keep his mouth shut.

He stopped abruptly and stared straight ahead, down the winding path through light and shadow. What would happen if he spent time with Allison the way he wanted, both in and out of bed, without telling her he was John LeRoche’s son? His body cheered enthusiastically at the idea, but how long could he keep her in the dark?

He could pull it off easily for the rest of his stay at Pearl Island, he realized as he resumed walking again. Yes, it could work. It would be wrong to take advantage of her ignorance, but it could work. And if she never found out, she’d never be hurt.

What about afterward, though? He’d never pull off the deception long term, assuming he wanted to keep seeing her. Did he want to keep seeing her?

He stopped as his heart pounded in an uncomfortable blend of desire and dread. Yes, he did. She was funny, sexy, sweet, and surprisingly passionate. She made him laugh, drove him mad with lust, and brightened his mood just by being near. Of course he’d want to keep seeing her ... if things were different.

But things weren’t different.

If he continued seeing her long term, she’d find out the truth. The longer it took, the angrier she’d be. Unless... unless she came to care for him enough to forgive his one lie-by-omission.

Could he make her care for him? Should he even try?

He rejected the idea instantly—along with the whole plan of sleeping with her again. If he gave in to temptation and spent time with her, he’d want to keep seeing her that much more. He did not want to open himself up to that. Every person he’d ever counted on or cared for had let him down sooner or later. Far better to keep her at arm’s length. If he did anything else, they’d both wind up hurt, and frankly, he could do without the pain and guilt.

Allison and Chloe hurried upstairs. They’d seen Scott down at the dock with the boat leaving. He could walk through the front door any minute.

“Do you think we have time?” Chloe asked in a stage whisper.

“We’ll have to be quick.” Reaching Scott’s room, Allison motioned Chloe toward the window. “Go see if he’s still by the pier.”

“Okay.” Chloe darted to the windows. “I don’t see him!”

“Go check the stairs. See if he came in after us. If he’s on his way up, stall him.” Allison ducked into the bathroom and took down the black boxer shorts. Then she reached into the bag from Savers Mart and started hanging up the boxers she and Chloe had bought, creating a jolly chorus line of chili peppers, happy faces, polka dots, and one pair with bright red lipstick kisses. “Perfect.”

“He wasn’t downstairs.” Chloe appeared in the bathroom doorway, slightly out of breath. “Maybe he went for a walk.”

“No matter. I’m done.” She gathered up the black boxers and stuffed them into the bag. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Wait, I want to see.” Chloe opened the shower door. “I love it!”

“Come on, hurry,” Alli coaxed as she closed the shower door.

“This is so funny.” Chloe giggled. “What do we do now?”

“Head for the gift shop. And wait.”

Together, they clattered down the stairs and were both laughing when they entered the gift shop. Rory, who’d been working in the office, crossed the hall and frowned in confusion. “What’s up with you two?”

“Nothing,” Allison answered sweetly as she stuffed the bag on the shelf beneath the cash register. Her sister gave her a questioning look as Chloe raced for the window.

“He’s coming!” The girl turned to her. “What should we do?”

“Just act natural.” Alli started straightening a display of souvenir pens.

“Okay”—Rory put her hands on her hips—“something is obviously going on.”

The front door opened and Alli struggled back a laugh.

“Hello, Uncle Scott,” Chloe called as he appeared in the hall. “Did you have a nice walk?”

“I suppose,” he said. “How was your trip into town?”

“Boring.” Chloe faked a yawn. “Very, very boring.”

Allison turned away to hide her grin. When she heard Scott head for the stairs, she winked at Chloe.

“How long do you think it’ll take him to notice?” Chloe asked.

“I don’t know, but when he does, we both act clueless and blame it on ghosts or gremlins, okay?”

“Notice what?” Rory demanded.

“We replaced Uncle Scott’s black boxers with the wildest ones we could find. He is so going to freak.” Chloe rolled her eyes.

Rory frowned. “I don’t get it.”

Chloe explained but Rory still didn’t understand the joke.

“I guess you just have to know him to understand,” Chloe finally said.

“I suppose so.” Rory rubbed the small of her back, making her stomach protrude. “Although if you two pranksters don’t mind, I think I’ll head home.”

“You okay?” Allison asked in

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