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"Welcome to my fantasy." Kendall breathed in the richly scented air as she paused at the top of the flight of stairs leading from the small private jet.
She gave the flight attendant a quick smile. "Where's Tattoo?"
The attendant, a young woman with a vapid smile, looked perplexed. "Sorry, who?"
"Never mind." Kendall looked across the airway's cracked pavement to the low white building beyond. She hoisted her bag higher over her shoulder and headed down the stairs toward the terminal.
The air sweeping across her felt warm and humid and redolent with a myriad of odors she couldn't identify. Except for the ocean. That scent burst all around her and made her pause once more on the tarmac, face to the sky and eyes closed, just to take in the deliciousness of it.
"You're going to get a sunburn if you stand here too long."
Her eyes snapped open and she turned to look at the tall man behind her. His normally golden cheeks were pale. He'd spent most of the flight in the bathroom, but now seemed to be recovering. He gave her a grin that might have melted any other woman's butter, but left Kendall colder than a polar bear carved from a glacier.
She looked him up and down. "You could use a little color, Agent Vincent."
Vincent had the grace to look abashed. He put a hand to his close-shaved head, as if startled by her comment. "I don't burn."
She shrugged, her contempt stamped so clearly on her face she could feel it. "Too bad."
"That's Agent Frasier to you." She turned away and stalked to the terminal doors.
Her heart thumped as she went to the battered desk just inside. She sensed Vincent coming in behind her but ignored him and smiled instead at the suited clerk behind the counter. The young man looked a bit taken aback by her grin. Kendall toned it down a little. "Agent Kendall Frasier."
He nodded and looked at a clipboard in front of him. No computer. This island really was secluded and out of touch. The clerk checked off a line with a pencil and looked up to smile at her.
"The shuttle leaves in a few minutes from over there, through that door. It will take you to the Corazon del Mar, where your guide will show you where to go and answer any other questions you might have." His languid accent was charming, even if the rest of the place was rather threadbare. "Enjoy your stay on the island, Miss Frasier."
Kendall didn't bother correcting him, though she loathed being called "miss." It made her think of white gloves and a wilting corsage. She went to wait on one of the rickety chairs along the wall he'd indicated. The seat creaked alarmingly when she sat, but it didn't dump her on her ass. Always a plus.
"First class accommodations, huh?" Vincent, seemingly oblivious to the cold glare Kendall gave him, sat next to her. "Can't wait to see where they have us staying."
"It's a free vacation, Vincent. Don't bitch about it."
He stretched out his impossibly long legs and put his thickly muscled arms behind his head. "That's Agent Vincent to you, Agent Frasier."
Kendall turned to face him. "I don't know what sort of red-tape fuck-up landed us here together, but I will tell you this. What happened in Lancaster isn't going to just go away because I take a week off to go to the beach. My partner is still dead. So I'd appreciate if you quit trying to chat me up and leave me the hell alone."