Smith had always been interested in history, especially one as colorful as this one. But tonight he was far more interested in the way Valentina ate up the stories Sam told them about the way Al Capone made several attempts to con the Warden into giving him the special privileges he’d had at other prisons...but was denied at Alcatraz.

Smith didn’t know if she realized it, but whenever she heard something really interesting, she gave his hand a squeeze.

After thirty minutes or so, Sam led them into the cellhouse building. When they came to the main block of cells, known as Broadway, all three of them stood in silence as they took in the forbidding bars, the cement cells.

“I’ll leave you two to explore for a few minutes.”

As soon as they were alone and walking together down the middle of the cells, Valentina said, “Can you hear them?”

Yes, he could hear the same echoes in the silence that she obviously did. “It’s like the men were here yesterday instead of fifty years ago.”

She read the plaque on the wall where they’d stopped. “Three men plotted their escape right here.” She let go of his hand as she moved into the cell, to get a closer look at the hole in the cement. “Just think, they spent months whittling away at the cement. Everyone told them it was impossible.” Smith moved in behind her as she turned to ask him, “Do you think they made it after all?”

“That water is pretty cold. What do you think happened?”

“I’m sure they belonged in prison, and that the crimes they’d committed were wrong, but I still can’t but hope they made it out of the water alive.” She gave him a crooked smile. “And that they made the most of the years they’d stolen back for themselves.”

Smith knew most people would be surprised to find out that Valentina was a secret romantic. But he’d known it about her almost from the start. That first day on set when he and Tatiana had stopped filming and the two of them had immediately dropped out of character, Valentina’s eyes had stayed soft and clouded over with emotion long after the cameras had stopped rolling.

Without warning, the prison cell doors slid shut behind them. Valentina automatically jumped into his arms as she let out a surprised—and slightly panicky—laugh.

“Did you know Sam was going to do that?”

“No.” But he had just decided to give Sam the tip of a lifetime for coming up with this brilliant plan. Smith looked down at Valentina. “Puts a whole different spin on things when the doors close, doesn’t it?”

Her eyes were bright, and so damn beautiful, as she stared up at him. “Yes,” she breathed. “Different.”

He’d never break a promise to her in a million years, but that didn’t mean he could stop himself from lowering his face to hers. Her cheek was so soft against his. He barely stifled a groan as she reached up to wind her arms around his neck.

“How long do you think he’ll keep us locked up?”

Her whisper against his ear had him harder than he’d ever been in his life. He slid his hands slowly down her back until they rested just above the curve of her hips.

“Not long enough,” he answered with perfect honesty.

She shifted against him so that she could stare up at him and he held his breath as he took in the clear desire on her face.

Lord, he wanted to kiss her. She was fire in his arms, heating up the cold cell with the press of her curves against him. Her lips opened and he was sure that she was just about to ask him for a second kiss, when the heavy sound of footsteps broke the heady silence.

Before Valentina could pull out of his arms, he lowered his mouth as close as he could to hers without touching it and whispered, “Not even close to long enough.”

Chapter Eleven

A short while later when they stepped out under the full moon, Valentina’s her breath caught as she took in the incredibly romantic, and unexpected, scene. Water crashed on the rocks just below a table set for two, with four portable heaters ringing the white tablecloth.

A vase in the center of the table held a single pink rose.

The meaning of the flower he’d picked was loud and clear as he extended his hand to her: desire and passion.

“Hungry?”

She nodded, knowing there was more than enough moonlight for him to see that she was hungry for far more than food, if he looked closely. He held out her chair and when he sat down opposite her, the table was small enough that their knees bumped underneath, making her smile through the nerves that attraction had brought front and center. He poured a glass of cabernet from Marcus’s winery and handed it to her.

He lifted the covers off their plates and her stomach grumbled in appreciation at the lobster and crab before her. She had no idea how he’d managed to get such delicious food delivered to the island. Their tour guide had left them alone again and there was no chef or waiter around as far as she could see.

“I agree with your stomach,” he teased, and picked up his fork to dig in.

Valentina took her first bite and a small moan of pleasure slipped out. “So good.”

She didn’t see that Smith had stopped with his first bite halfway to his mouth, his eyes dark, hungry, as he watched her.

But she couldn’t miss how hoarse his voice was suddenly, as he said, “I’m glad you like it.”

When was the last time she’d eaten a really good meal? She honestly couldn’t remember, with the long hours she’d been putting in since filming began.

She took another bite and her eyes closed on their own. “I forgot how much I like good food.” She tried to tamp down on the greed racing through her veins as she turned her focus back to him. “This is amazing. Your boat. The private tour. Dinner.” She reached for his hand without thinking. “Thank you.”

He slid his fingers into hers. “I’m glad you invited me to come with you.”

She couldn’t keep the smile off her face, not when he’d gone to all this trouble for her and it had been such a wonderful night already.

“Well,” she teased, “I could see how much you wanted to see Alcatraz again. Do you have some story ideas kicking around in your head about it?”

“Maybe. You?”

She was surprised by his question. Surprised enough to say, “I can’t stop wondering about the women on the island.”

“Makes sense that the only women on the island were married.”

She nodded. “It does, but who says they were all happily married?” At his raised eyebrow, she explained, “What if one of them was in love...but not with her husband?”