Instead, she found more of a tree house. The rustic wooden structure was built on stilts—which made sense for surviving fierce storms. Built in an octagonal shape, its windows provided a panoramic view of not only the water but also the lush jungle. Splashes of blooming colors and ripening fruits dotted the landscape like tropical Christmas lights.
This wasn’t a beach vacation place for parties. This was a retreat, a haven for solitude. There wasn’t even a crew of servants waiting. She carried a travel bag while Troy unloaded their luggage. He’d been strangely pensive since their flight, studying her like a puzzle to figure out.
Although she was probably looking at him in exactly the same way.
He glanced over. “Elevator or stairs?”
“Stairs,” she said without pause, “I wouldn’t miss a second of seeing this from all angles.”
Climbing the winding wooden stairs, she drew in the exotic perfume of lush fertility seasoned with salty sea air. The spray of the waterfall misted the already-humid morning air. She cleared the final step to the wraparound balcony.
The man who would choose this type of home intrigued her, and she suspected the house would only get better. She wanted to believe that, as if the house was an indicator of the real Troy. It was ironic that after she’d fought so hard to leave the isolation of the farm, that somehow this secluded place felt amazingly right.
He ran his fingers along a wood shingle, and it opened to reveal an elaborate panel of buttons and lights. He’d keyed codes into elaborate security gates along the drive to the house. Apparently there was a final barrier to breach. He pressed his palm to a panel and the front door opened.
She stepped into a wide space full of rattan sofas and chaise lounges with upholstered cushions of deep rusts and greens. With the windows, it seemed as if the inside and outside melded seamlessly. No period pieces or antiques.
Just well-constructed comfort.
Troy tapped another small panel on the inside wall and the lights came on. “There are multiple bedrooms. You can choose which suits you best. We’re on our own here, so no worries about where the staff might sleep.”
Music hummed softly; ceiling fans swirled. “Is the whole place wired like a clap on/clap off commercial?”
“A bit more high-tech than that, but yes. I may dress better these days—” he sailed his hat toward a coat tree with perfect aim “—but I’m still the same computer geek inside. The whole place is wired for internet, satellite, solar panels.”
“Everything here is fresh. I thought there wasn’t a staff?” The place had clearly been serviced, from the fresh basket of fruit on the kitchen island to the thriving plants climbing toward the vaulted ceiling.
“There isn’t an official crew here. Not full-time, anyway.” He set their luggage by a sofa. “A service comes in once a month to air the place out, dust the knickknacks. Fill the pantry before I arrive. Then they leave. I come here for solitude.”
“But you brought me.”
“Yes, I did,” he said from beside the fireplace, one foot braced on the stone hearth. “That should tell you how important you are to me.”
The seriousness of his statement caught her off guard. “Does that line usually work with women?”
“Your choice. Trust me or don’t.”
And that’s what it all boiled down to for her. Trust. The toughest of all things for her to give. “Could I just give you my right arm instead?”
He shoved away from the wall. “What do you say we take this a step at a time?”
With each step that brought him closer, her temperature rose, her desire for him flamed even as wariness lingered. “What do you mean?”
“Rather than jumping all-in, you can test the waters, so to speak.” He lifted a strand of her hair, sliding it between his fingers with slow deliberation.
“Test the waters how?” Like make out on the sofa? Play strip poker? Progress to third base? Nerves were stirring her into a near hysteria, because if her body ignited when he was just touching her hair, there wasn’t a chance in hell she would be able to hold out against a full-out touch. And there was nothing and no one here to stop them.
He let her hair go shimmering free. “Go swimming, of course. So which will it be? The pool or the waterfall?”
* * *
Hillary stripped out of her travel clothes, a dress she’d slept in on the plane. She needed a shower, but since they were heading to the waterfall… She would just take shampoo with her.
Her suitcases waited at the foot of the bed, but the open doors on the teak wardrobe showed rows and shelves full of clothes, all her size.
He truly had prepared for her visit. What would he have instructed buyers to choose for her? She thumbed through sundresses, jeans, shorts, gauzy shirts—and a half-dozen swimsuits with sarongs. Two-pieces and one-pieces, giving her choices.
One-piece, for sure. She tugged out a basic black suit and stepped into it before reaching for the phone to check in with her sister. Her hand half in and half out of her bag, she paused. What did a call from Costa Rica cost? And would it be traceable, thus risking their safety? She should probably check with Troy on that.
She yanked on a matching cover-up, then stuck her head out the door. “Troy?” she called out. “What’re the rules on phoning home? I meant to call my sister while we were in France, and I, uh, forgot.”
Their date had so filled her mind, she’d lost sight of everything else.
“Use the phone by the bed,” he answered from somewhere around the kitchen. “It’s a secure line.”
“Thanks, I’ll only be a minute.”
“Take as long as you need.” The sound of cabinets opening and closing echoed. “The only rules here are that there are no rules, no schedules.”
She slid back into the room, the easy exchange so enticingly normal, so couple-ish. Plus a ka-billion-dollar vacation home and a world-renowned computer mogul she’d met while they both helped international law enforcement solve a case.
Yeah, totally normal.
And how would she even know “normal” if it bit her on the nose? She certainly hadn’t seen a lot of healthy relationships in her life.
Sagging onto the edge of the bamboo-frame bed, she dialed her sister’s number from memory. Since there was only an hour’s time difference, her sister should be awake. The ringing connection was so clear, she could have been calling from next door. Of course Troy had crazy good technology.
“Uh, hello?” her sister said hesitantly, probably because the caller ID wouldn’t have been familiar.