The birds circled, squawked loudly and moved on. She felt a light breeze float over the edge of the raft and thought she’d never felt something so good.

Overhead, she watched the contrails of a jet widen and slowly begin to dissipate into the atmosphere.

Curiously, she looked on as clouds moved slowly and she squinted, tilting her head in different directions as they took shapes of images she recognized. Faces. Animals. Things. Forever changing one to another.

She loved watching clouds. It was one of the few things that gave her peace.

She jerked upward as she remembered where she was and the desperate measures she’d taken to lose herself and make a new life.

She glanced over at the sleeping body in the lifeboat with disdain. How dare he intrude on her disappearance!

He had a hand turned palm up resting on his brow as he slumped his large body in a precarious position. Lindsay pushed herself to her knees and looked down at Hunter Fleming III. The Hunter Fleming III. Hastily, she reseated herself, not wanting to touch him, surprised that she wanted to.

She wasn’t going to waste one moment of her time with thoughts of him. She had more important things to think about—like finding some remote island in the south seas where she could live out the rest of her life with the locals. She could care less when the world-renowned playboy woke up.

Hunter woke up by slow degrees. He felt the slow motion of the waves and forced his eyes open. Through slitted eyes, he watched her. Dark thick lashes framed a perfect oval face—until she turned her head and the jagged scar revealed itself. It failed to distract from her beauty. He was about to ask how she was feeling when she turned her head and their eyes met.

She took one look at him, sniffed then turned the other way.