The sun was already warm at eight o’clock in the morning and she was glad she’d doused herself in sunblock. She should’ve brought a hat with her, too; but she’d been in such a hurry to pack and leave Minnesota that she hadn’t fully considered the effects of the tropical sun on her sensitive skin. At times like this, she was forced to admit she wasn’t quite as smart as everyone thought she was.

Another case in point, her awkward conversation with Logan Sutherland yesterday. She cringed inwardly, knowing that most of what he’d accused her of was true. Yes, she’d lied on her résumé, although that was for a good cause. But what she really hated admitting was that she’d foolishly underestimated the job of cocktail waitress. That wasn’t smart. She wouldn’t make that mistake again, especially after seeing firsthand how hard everyone in the bar worked.

“Just let that go,” she murmured. At least Logan had relented and allowed her to stay, thank goodness. She had a full week to redeem herself and she vowed to do just that, if only for the sake of the spores.

Now if she could only find the darling little critters.

A sailboat under full sail skimmed across the bay and Grace stopped to watch it. Everywhere she turned on this island, in any direction, she could find something new and wonderful and exotic to look at. She stretched and allowed the sunshine to permeate her skin. Had she ever felt this warm and cozy without the benefit of a down jacket?

She’d lived in Minnesota her entire life and she was perfectly happy there, of course. But she was just beginning to realize that she’d spent a good portion of her life being cold. No, not just cold, she thought. Chilled to the bone. She was so tired of being cold, so weary of bundling up in heavy coats and mittens and long underwear and wool scarves for more than half the year.