She realized that the sun had shifted and she was now standing in bright sunlight. “I’ve been in the shade most of the time,” she said lamely.

“You’ll soon find out that doesn’t make much difference this close to the equator.” He took his baseball cap off and handed it to her. “Here, wear this. It’s not much, but it’ll protect your face for a while.”

“It’s not necessary,” she said, taking a step back from him. He was so big and masculine, it was a bit overwhelming so early in the morning. And it was unnerving to realize that he was studying her as carefully as she would examine a particularly fascinating germ under her microscope. Maybe that’s why she felt so shaky. “I’m going back to my room right now.”

“Ten minutes out here is enough to make a difference. Put the damn hat on.”

“All right.” He was pushy, but he probably knew what he was talking about. Besides, she didn’t want to give him any reason to think her uncooperative. She slipped her ponytail through the strap in back and adjusted the cap on her head. “Thank you. I’ll get it back to you this afternoon.”

“No hurry,” he said. “We’ve got a gift shop filled with wide-brimmed hats. You’ll need one if you’re planning to work outside every morning.”

With a nod, she said, “I’ll be sure to buy one this afternoon.”

“Good. And buy more sunblock,” he added brusquely. “I’d hate to see your skin get burned.”

“Thank you.” I think, she added under her breath, since he sounded almost angry about it. But she decided not to blame him. He’d probably seen his share of hapless tourists suffering from second-degree sunburns.