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“I have a confession to make,” she murmured, her lips curling in an impish grin. “How do I say this…?”
“I don’t care, just say it, though I’m not sure I’ll survive another huge surprise.”
“Well…it is a surprise, though I’m not sure it’s huge. When I first came down here and booked that charter, I knew who you were.”
“I’m confused. What do you mean, you knew me?”
“I, uh, I was a huge fan of your band, Lionheart. That’s not strictly true. I was a huge fan of yours.”
“You’re kidding?” he exclaimed, his mind flashing back to his days in the music scene around Hollywood.
“I had a fake ID, and when you played at the Roxy, or the Troubador, or wherever, I was there, and, uh, I saw you a couple of times having pizza at The Rainbow. You caught me staring once.”
Scott threw back his head and laughed out loud.
“When I was looking for a place to charter a boat for Conchello, I saw your picture on your website. I couldn’t believe it. I was so excited I couldn’t sleep for a week. On that first day, when you took my hand and helped me on to the catamaran, I thought I’d die.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted sheepishly.
“I’m suddenly remembering…” he murmured thoughtfully and tilting his head to the side, “one night at the troubadour before the show, a very pretty girl was standing in the hall outside that awful dressing room. I wanted to talk to her, but the bouncer hustled her out before I had a chance. Was that you?”
“Yeah, that was me.”
“Where did you go?”
“After you played my friends dragged me away to a party.”
“Oh, my God! At the time I wondered why such a gorgeous girl would have such short hair.”
“I had to keep it that way for diving. If it got too long it was a pain to get into my swim cap.”
“I started looking for you at the gigs. It was so frustrating, then I joined the marines. Ah! Now I understand. Those sexy dreams I have about the wench—that’s why she looked like you.”
“Maybe,” Elizabeth said softly, “or maybe we really were together in a past life down here in the Caribbean, and fate has brought us back together.”
“I guess we’ll never know.”
“You were my Scottish captain back then,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. “and you’re my Captain Scott now. That’s it, end of story.”
THE END
