He glanced back at Megan.

Wouldn't miss it.

See that you don't.

Coco looked at her watch, closed her eyes.

Where is that

man? He's late again.

The Dutchman?

Who else? I sent him to the butcher's two hours ago.

Nathaniel shrugged. His former shipmate, and The Towers' new assistant chef, ran on his own timetable.

If I see him down at the docks, I'll send him along.

Kiss me goodbye,

Jenny demanded, delighted when Nathaniel hauled her up.

You're the prettiest cowboy on the island, he whispered in her ear. Jenny shot a

smug look at her brother when her feet touched the floor again.

You let me know

when you're ready for a sail,

he said to Kevin.

Nice meeting you, Ms. O'Riley.

Nate's a sailor,

Jenny said importantly when Nathaniel strolled out.

He's been

everywhere and done everything.

Megan didn't doubt it for a minute.

So much had changed at The Towers, though the family rooms on the first two floors and the east wing were much the same. Trent St. James, with Megan's brother, Sloan, as architect, had concentrated most of the time and effort on the ten suites in the west wing, the new guest dining area and the west tower. All of that area comprised the hotel.

From the quick tour Megan was given, she could see that none of the time and effort that had gone into the construction and renovations had been wasted.

Sloan had designed with an appreciation for the original fortresslike structure, retaining the high-ceilinged rooms and circular stairs, ensuring that the many

fireplaces were working, preserving the mul-lioned windows and French doors that led out onto terraces, balconies, parapets.

The lobby was sumptuous, filled with antiques and designed with a multitude of cozy corners that invited guests to lounge on a rainy or wintry day. The spectacular views of bay or cliffs or sea or Suzanna's fabulous gardens were there to be enjoyed, or tempted guests to stroll out onto terraces and balconies.