Linked to celebrity. Yes, she supposed star quarterbacks usually were. And nobody would ever mistake Heather for somebody famous.

  But, she suddenly realized, she didn’t care. Because unlike the Felicity types of the world, she really understood what love was. She was capable of loving someone enough to do just about anything to keep him from being hurt. The idea of doing something as awful as falsifying paternity and trying her lover in the court of public opinion was utterly abhorrent to her.

  “But of all the things I went through, I think I resent her the most for twisting my mind around when it came to love and commitment. She made me believe that love was about manipulation, jealousy, cheating and dishonesty. I got this idea that it was all wrapped up together, that it was impossible to have one without all the rest.”

  Heather gasped, suddenly understanding why he’d brought this up. He was trying to explain to her why he could not love her, why he couldn’t commit, not now, not in the future.

  She blinked away tears, and said, “I understand. You really don’t have to say anything more.” Her faint sniffle might have clued him in to the fact that she was lying, but she hoped he’d believe it was because of the damp night air.

  “Of course I have to say more,” he said, suddenly sitting up. He drew her up, too, until they were face-to-face. The rain had finally stopped and the clouds had thinned even more. Through the unzipped flap, moonlight eased in, falling on their faces.

  His expression was tender. Sweet. Loving. A look she hadn’t imagined she’d ever see again.

  “Heather, I was wrong. I was so totally wrong. You came so close to being hurt—or worse—and, well, all I could think of was what I’d do if I lost you again.”

  He lifted his hand to her face, touching her cheek, brushing his fingers through her hair. She kissed his palm, feeling her heart start to skid and tumble in her chest. Her pulse was tumbling, too, her blood rushing fast through her veins as she tried to grasp what he was saying, not quite daring to believe it.

  “I remembered what you said about your parents, and how fleeting life can be.” He leaned closer, brushing his lips across hers, adding, “And I realized that I was wrong. I do believe in love, Heather Hughes.”

  She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, slowly.

  “I’ve thought of nothing but you for the past ten months. When I was in the throes of the lawsuit, in court, dodging reporters or on the field throwing interceptions, I just kept dreaming about you.”

  “Really?” she whispered.

  “Really.” He kissed her again, and this time she kissed him back, parting her lips to let their tongues gently touch and caress. They’d made love moments ago, but the sweet eroticism aroused her all over again. She wanted him, and she knew she could never have enough of this man.

  When their mouths drew apart, he said one more thing. “I love you.”

  She nodded slowly, believing it with all her heart. How could she not believe him when she felt the same way?

  “I love you, too, Nate.”

  He pulled her onto his lap, kissing her cheek, her jaw, her neck, repeating the words over and over. It was as if, having dammed his emotions up inside himself for so long, he wanted to make sure there was not a single doubt about his feelings.

  She didn’t doubt him. She never would again.

  Her sweet, sexy, playful man was back. And she’d never been happier to see anyone in her entire life.

  They fell back down on the sleeping bags, exchanging kiss after kiss, murmuring soft words of love, until something occurred to Heather, and she had to laugh.

  “What?”

  “I was just thinking about how funny it would be if everyone on that boat caught us right now.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “If those jackasses who work for my father saw you like this, I’d have to kill them.” He moved lower, licking her breast. “You’re mine.”

  His. Oh, yes, indeed she was. For as long as he wanted her.

  And she already knew, in her heart, that he wanted her for a lifetime.

  As she did him.

  Epilogue

  THE ISLAND WEDDING was everything they had dreamed it would be. Beautiful. Intimate. Private. Just two people in love saying their vows on the shores of a crystal blue sea, beneath swaying palm trees, to the beat of calypso drums.

  Heather had never thought about getting married on a beach, but having seen how beautiful her mother and Jerry’s ceremony had been the year before, she’d realized it was what she wanted, too.

  Without the sea voyage and two dozen guests, however.

  With Nate still very much in the spotlight, especially after his spectacular winning season, they’d wanted to try to sneak a private moment, in a private place, to exchange vows. Neither of them had wanted a public circus, and even though the Felicity scandal had blown over—her lover’s wife had found out and caused a media sensation—they were still on the radar of some nosy paparazzi. Maybe the press was trying to figure out why on earth Nate had chosen her when he could have had an international pop star.

  Heather didn’t wonder. She and Nate shared a once-in-a-lifetime love. Having lived together in Miami for the past year, neither of them had a single doubt about spending the rest of their lives together.

  “How are you feeling, Red?”

  “Happier than I’ve ever been in my life,” she said as they walked hand-in-hand down the sugar-white St. Lucian beach after they’d been pronounced husband and wife.

  He lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips. “Me, too. And also relieved.”

  “Why?”

  “I fully expected wedding crashers.”

  She grimaced. “Reporters?”

  “No. The ’rents. I would have sworn your mom was going to sneak down here.”

  Laughing, she conceded, “I am sure she wanted to, but she understood. Just be prepared for our reception next week to be the social event of the season.” Although Heather and Nate spent most of their time in Miami, they had bought a place in Albuquerque so they could be near family. They spent a lot of the football off-season there and would have a big celebration with friends and family when they got home to the States. “Besides, she’s still feeling tremendously guilty about stranding us on that island last year.”

  “She shouldn’t. That turned out to be the most important night of my life.”

  And Heather’s.

  Heather had long ago forgiven the prank. What was a little storm compared to finding out the man of her dreams truly loved her?

  “Did you ever envision your mom as a businesswoman?”

  Laughing, Heather said, “No, but don’t make fun. She’s having the time of her life, and Santa Fe is crazy for her.”

  After moving to Florida last spring, Heather had opened a new gallery in South Beach, and Amy had taken over the one in New Mexico. The business might not be a huge success, since her mom was a sucker for a sob story, but Amy Hughes—now Watson—was certainly building her gallery’s reputation as the place to go for eccentric, eclectic, joyful pieces.

  She’d even changed the name. To Flibbertigibbet’s.

  How wonderful.

  They continued to walk along the shore, kicking their feet in the surf as the sun dropped low in the sky. Beams of orange, yellow and red danced across the surface of the waves, as if the sky itself were putting on a light show just for them.

  They talked about the future, about the past. About her father and his mother. About the children they would someday have.

  Mostly, they talked about love. How much they felt it. How close they’d come to losing it. How very precious it was to them both.

  And how they were never—ever—going to let it go.

  * * * * *

  MORE THAN A FLING

  Shana Gray

  Dear Reader,

  Aloha! I’m so excited to be writing this letter to you for my first ever Harlequin Blaze book. Gee, I’ve been waiting for close to thirty years for this moment, and here it is. I’m so honored to be paired with Leslie Kelly, too!

  Have you ever been to Hawaii? Ever flown first class? Or lived on the edge? You get to in More Than a Fling. I adore writing about places I’ve been and bringing them to life. The excitement. The passion. The vacation nuance. From the first moment Lana and Grant meet we can feel their attraction and chemistry. I’m so happy to be able to bring their story to you, and I hope you fall in love with them as much as I have.

  Please visit me at my website, shanagray.com, to keep on top of all the exciting things coming up, and please sign up for my newsletter, too. I would be thrilled to hear from you and know what you think of my first ever Harlequin Blaze.

  Enjoy and hang loose (a totally Hawaiian term)!

  Mahalo,

  Shana Gray

  My mom was my champion. It didn’t matter what I had going on, or if she approved or didn’t, she was behind me a hundred percent. She was my first phone call for good and bad news. We lost Mom suddenly in December 2012, and I miss her terribly. After I got The Call from Kathleen Scheibling, Mom was the first person I thought of. This book is dedicated to her. How I wish she was here to share in my good news and excitement and that glass of champagne. Dad has become my new champion. At 92 he’s stepping into the roll with gusto. xo

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  1

  LANA WOKE WITH a start. The lights were dimmed and the plane was hushed. This was the last leg of her trip—Sydney behind her, Hawaii in time for breakfast. One flight seemed to roll into the next. Damn that international dateline. It always screwed her up.

  Her wineglass and dinner dishes had been cleared away and someone had draped a blanket over her legs. First class sure had top-notch service. Too bad she didn’t have someone to share it with. Lana sighed and rubbed her eyes. She had to pee, and a freshen up would be nice, too.

  She felt her way through the darkened cabin to the lavatory—perfect timing for the plane to hit a pocket of turbulence. Lana lost her footing, didn’t see the door open and catapulted headlong into the person coming out. Not just any person, but a mountain of a man. She reached out to steady herself, her fingers closing around some very impressive, muscled shoulders. Arms snaked around her like steel bands, holding her tighter than she’d ever been held before.

  Lana gasped. He smelled so damn good, too. She blinked and looked up—way up. This man was huge, built, broad, tanned, blond... Viking blond with brown eyes that reminded of her of chocolate syrup. Sticky, sweet, sinfully delightful. She swallowed when her heart tripped over itself, and she felt her panties growing moist. This is what she got for being celibate for so long.

  He stared back at her, the right side of his mouth curved up in a smile.

  Wanna join the Mile High Club, you sexy beast, you? Lana almost blurted the words and fought like hell to bite her tongue. Literally. Wild, spontaneous, sex with a stranger wasn’t her game. She wasn’t shy about sex, oh, no, but banging a dude within seconds of first laying eyes on him was...what? Wrong? Not exactly. Just not something she’d done before, and boy was he making her want to change that.

  “Um, excuse me.” She was locked in his gaze, let herself stay in its magnetic pull. She didn’t fight the warm, deep arousal that swelled inside her, enjoying the heat that flushed through her body as his arms held her so safe. Oh, God yes, he was so solid.

  Aw, shit. Nothing like being horny on this never-ending godforsaken, grueling flight with no chance to—

  “My apologies.”

  Gawd help me! He’s got an accent.

  Lana loved the South African cadence, and his was just as thick and sweet as the desire sweeping through her.

  “No, it was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “That little bump in the road was somewhat of a surprise as well, ya.”

  Keep talking.

  “Uh, yes. Yes, it was.” The words dried up in her mouth when he pivoted her into the small area between the lavatory doors. He held her firmly and a little too closely, but Lana wasn’t going to argue. What were the odds in life a girl would be this close to such a fine specimen of a man? Nevah! She would enjoy every second of this close encounter. Oh, yes.

  The plane lurched again, throwing her against him. Now breast to chest, hips to hips, thighs to thighs, Lana felt every nuance of him. She curled her arms around his neck and hung on as the jet bounced through the night sky. Mr. Viking didn’t pull away—she could have sworn she felt his arms tighten a bit more around her.

  Sweet.

  The jet’s path smoothed out, and Lana began to feel foolish in his arms. The right thing to do would be to step away. Step away from the man. Away from the gorgeous hunk of maleness that made her want to drag him into the lavatory behind them.

  Lana opened her eyes. The sign on the lavatory door right in front of her caught her attention. Vacant. All she had to do was open said door and push Mr. Viking inside, inviting them both into the Mile High Club. She swung her gaze to him and her heart flipped. He was watching her with an intensity that made her tremble. Was he thinking the same thing?

  Reluctantly Lana stepped from the captivating heat of his embrace. The lingering aura of his power didn’t dwindle with the distance.

  “Can I escort you to your seat?”

  Oh, a gentleman, too.

  “Well, actually... I need to...” Lana nodded to the lavatory door and nearly died when her cheeks heated.

  He laughed and her knees wobbled. Good God, he was getting under her skin.

  “Of course.” His voice was low and he bowed his head before murmuring, “If you care to join me after, I’ll order us a nightcap whilst you’re engaged.”

  Whilst? He certainly was proper. Lana tipped her head back to gaze at him, knowing she couldn’t say no. “Yes, please. That would be delightful.”

  Delightful? Holy shit, when had she become Ms. Formal? Lana fled into the lavatory before she could make a further ass of herself.

  A few minutes later, Lana hurried back down the aisle. It wasn’t hard to find him, as he stood for her.

  “Please.” He indicated the seat by the window, placing his hand on the small of her back to guide her.

  His touch elicited a thrill of pleasure. “Thank you.” Lana sat and curled a leg under herself, twisting in the seat to face him.

  Soft light from the table surface between them illuminated them in a cocoon of intimacy. Excitement pooled in her belly and Lana decided then and there to throw caution to the wind and see where this may take her.

  “So, tell me about yourself. What brings you to fly from Oz to Hawaii?” she asked.

  “A short layover—business. I’m actually flying on to Vancouver next week.”

  “Really? I’m heading to Toronto, via Vancouver. Next week, as well.” She paused. “Maybe we’re on the same flight.”

  “Well then, what would be the odds of that?” His voice was so smooth and deep, she wanted to hear more.

  “Crazy. I’ll be staying for about ten days. Kind of a vacation before a business meeting next week.”

  “So you weren’t on vacation Down Under?”

  “No, business, as well. I’m exhausted and need a rest.” She nearly scowled as she thought about the meeting with her boss next week. She had a lot to prepare for, and damn if she’d let it get in the way of her downtime on the Aloha Isles. She hoped getting the meeting prep out of the way early would let her chill for the rest of the time.

  He accepted the drinks from the flight attendant, offering one to Lana. Their fingers touched and a bolt of lust shot up her arm and found its way to her core. She raised the glass and took a long pull. Aged Scotch. Its fiery heat seared a trail down her throat and rather than quelling her desire it magnified it. The lavatory idea was getting more and more appealing.

  “Where are you staying?” he inquired.

  That was the quandary. She had nowhere at the moment. Adding vacation time before her meeting in Hawaii next week had happened at the last minute—only happened at all because she’d been able to switch her flight without fees. “Well, actually, I have tonight, or tomorrow, or will it be yesterday?” Lana laughed. “And the next four at the Moana. Then back at the hotel next week for the meeting. In between...” She shrugged. “And you?”

  “I have a house on the North Shore.”

  It took all of Lana’s willpower to not choke on her drink. “Really? Is it on the beach?”

  He smiled and nodded. “It’s older and not very big. A grass shack.”

  “I’m sure.” Lana smiled at him. “Do you get there often?”

  “Not often enough. We usually keep this month clear and rent it the rest of the year.”

  “We?” Shit. Was he married or otherwise entangled? No way would she be the other woman.

  His smile was captivating. “My brother. We try to visit when our schedules allow.”

  OMG, a brother? Is he as gorgeous as...? Then Lana realized—“You know what? I don’t know your name.”

  He laughed. “I’m Grant Rankin. And you?”

  “Lana. Lana Hunter.”

  Grant held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Lana Hunter.”

  His fingers, warm and strong, curled around hers. He didn’t let her go and they stayed like that for a minute. Did she just imagine it, or did he lean in to her ever so slightly, perhaps for a kiss?

  Her eyelids fluttered and she licked her lips.

  Grant’s gaze dropped to her mouth. Oh, how she wanted him to kiss her. Yes, she absolutely did. Should she wait for him to make the move or do it herself?

  “So then—” the sultry tone in his voice matched the smoldering heat in his gaze “—I can offer you a room in the house if you like.”

  “Really?” A beach house in Hawaii with a hot dude? Twist my arm. But then Lana’s conscience screamed at her. You don’t know him. He could be a serial killer. She sat back a little and sipped, thinking frantically. Could she really accept this invite? She’d never considered anything like this before, and she was flustered. “That’s very generous of you. I don’t know what to say.”