Seduced by Sunday by Catherine Bybee

year and a half. Neither of us were involved with anyone and no one got hurt. You’re here as a date. Last time I looked that didn’t amount to jack in this day and age.”
    “But—”
    “But nothing. Kiss him, sleep with him, do whatever you want with the man. I have no claim and wouldn’t say otherwise regardless of what might come of this vacation. Besides, it isn’t like there are a bunch of cameras snapping pictures and asking questions. This place is off the map. I know I’m coming back.”
    Some of the tension inside Meg’s chest eased. “With Ryder?”
    “Maybe.”
    The bell to the front door of the villa rang with a noise that surprised the both of them.
    Michael answered while Meg watched.
    “Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Wolfe. Miss Rosenthal has mail.”
    Mail? On vacation?
    Michael took the envelopes from the man and closed the door.
    “I thought vacations were no-mail zones.”
    Michael glanced at the three envelopes before handing them over.
    “One is from your sister.” Judy’s handwriting was as familiar as her own. The return address, however, was illegible.
    Meg tore into Judy’s first.
Hey, Livin’ the High Life on Someone Else’s Dime,
Two things since I can’t pick up a freakin’ phone and call like any normal person in this century . . . First, I’ve heard NOTHING about you or Mike since you left. I’m watching every platform, as is the ball and chain and his partner.
    Meg knew that meant Rick and Neil. Both had a background in military intelligence and could be trusted with her life.
Second . . . the man you asked me about. I’m not liking the information I’m finding. Or not finding, as the case may be. Not sure why you’re asking about him, but “don’t trust him.” Those are the ball and chain’s words.
Hope you’re having a fantastic time.
Can’t wait to hear all about it . . . or not hear all about it.
Give my bro a kiss for me.
J
    Meg scratched her head.
    “What is it?”
    “Judy says hi.” Meg let the kiss go for now. “Said all is silent in the real world.”
    “Sounds good to me.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Then why the frown?”
    “I asked her to check on that Alonzo guy.”
    Michael frowned. “What did Judy find?”
    “She didn’t say. Just suggested that Rick and Neil said not to trust the man.”
    Michael turned, leaned a hip against the counter. “Not a problem since the man isn’t here.”
    “I guess.”
    The back door to the villa opened, catching both their attention. Ryder stepped into the living room, half-winded. “Utah has nothing on this place,” he said.
    “Sparkling water and ocean breezes . . . I have to agree.” Michael opened a cupboard and removed a cup. “Coffee?”
    “Love it. Morning, Meg.”
    “Good morning.”
    She opened the second envelope. This one didn’t have an off-island address.
My mother is a dictator in the kitchen . . . fair warning.
Val
    “Damn.”
    “What?”
    She’d forgotten about the cooking lesson. “I-I have a debt to pay.” She glanced at the clock. She still had time for a shower. Makeup and polish would have to wait.
    Without thought, she gathered the mail and rushed from the room.
    A quick shower, a pair of shorts, and a little mascara, and Meg fled the villa.

    Simona Masini wore an apron and already had Val’s kitchen brimming with fresh tomatoes, flour, and eggs when Meg arrived.
    The scene was out of a horror movie. Well, Meg’s idea of macabre, in any event.
    “Sorry I’m late,” Meg apologized as she walked in through the back door.
    Mrs. Masini offered a placating smile. “I have all day.” The older woman handed Meg an apron. “Put this on.”
    “All day?” Meg wrapped the thing around her waist, asked herself if she’d ever worn an apron before.
Nope.
    “Don’t look so glum, Margaret. You appear to be a bright woman. I’m sure I can teach you the basics of pasta.”
    Mrs. Masini opened a huge rubber container and dumped several cups of flour right on the smooth counter.