Dare to Surrender by Carly Phillips

I’d be crazy to turn down the opportunity—as crazy as Lucy had been to entrust the job to me.
    On Friday morning, I walked out of my apartment building and, just as the instructions indicated, a large stretch limousine waited out front.
    “Isabelle Masters?” a man dressed in a chauffeur uniform asked me.
    I nodded, and he held open the door for me to enter. I slid in, finding myself alone. I stretched my legs out in front of me and looked through the tinted windows, feeling like a celebrity as the driver took me to the airport for my trip to Miami, where I would switch to a charter for the short flight to Eden. Besides being in first class, which I would never have booked for myself, the first leg of the trip was uneventful.
    Hours later, I was driven from the large main airport to a private airstrip. The plane, a seaplane, made me wish for a drink, a tranquilizer, or a potent combination of the two. The plane was too small, and the thought of landing on the water made my stomach dip with sheer nerves. I walked up the stairs, which I knew had been rolled out to the plane, and boarded.
    The interior was small and confined, but before I could work myself into further panic, a woman walked out of what I knew was the cockpit.
    “Isabelle?”
    I swallowed over my fear. “Yes.”
    “I’m Joely, and I’m your pilot.” She extended her hand, and I took it. Her no-nonsense grip was at odds with her entire appearance.
    She was about my age with light brown, wavy hair, and her uniform, if you could call it that, consisted of khaki shorts and a black polo shirt. I could more easily picture her as an island guide than the woman who would be flying this plane. I played with the pearls at my neck, trying not to show my panic, which had only increased upon meeting her.
    “Are you okay?” she asked perceptively.
    I nodded. “Do you mind if I ask how old you are?” I blurted out.
    She grinned. “Old enough to fly this baby, I promise. I’m a mechanic, and I have experience as a bush pilot. You’re in safe hands.” She waved hers in the air.
    Her confidence inspired more in me. “Okay, then. I hope I didn’t insult you.”
    She shook her head. “Nope. Don’t worry, I get those questions a lot. So are you ready?”
    I glanced around the empty inside of the vehicle. “I’m the only passenger?”
    The other woman nodded. “It’s a fast two-hour trip, so buckle up, and we’ll get going.”
    I did as instructed. I still can’t figure out whether I was grateful for the loud noise that surrounded us inside, preventing conversation, or if it frightened me more. I only know that I passed the two hours with a white-knuckle grip on the armrests, and I’d never been happier to see land.
    The island I viewed out the window was nothing like I’d imagined. The greenery spread out as far as the eye could see, and jutting out from the lushness below, an Irish castle of gray stone sat looking majestic and regal in the distance.
    I exited onto a long dock, grateful to be on the ground at last. I waved at Joely, who grinned and promised to return for me when my time was up. I had no idea when that would be.
    Even though I was used to Manhattan in the summertime, the island humidity and heat swept over me, and I regretted choosing a pair of silk slacks, like I’d wear to work, and a tank top, which already clung to my breasts.
    Alone on the dock, I fingered the pearls around my neck and looked around, relieved when a man strode toward me. As he drew closer, I realized he wore a cloak of some kind over his head, obscuring his face.
    “Isabelle?” he said, sounding sure of my identity, as he extended his hand.
    “Yes.”
    “Welcome to Eden.”
    “I knew immediately he was the elusive Master of the island.
    “Thank you,” I said.
    “Enjoy your time here.”
    I glanced up at the fantastical castle I’d seen from the air and smiled. “I’m sure I will.” I turned to address him again, but strangely, he’d