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  “Where do you think we all went?” I whispered to James. Because other than my wound being healed, I felt exactly the same.

  “Maybe you went where the ships go,” he whispered back, his eyes still glued to Father Rook as he spoke.

  “Huh?”

  He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “The Bermuda Triangle, remember?” he whispered back. “We’re right on top of it.”

  “We are?” I gave him a look. So that story he’d told to Warner had been partially true. “But that’s just a legend.”

  He smiled. “Haven’t you learned? Not all legends are fake.”

  No, I supposed they weren’t. The fountain of youth had been real.

  “It’s just a theory, of course,” he added.

  Stunned, I nodded slowly and turned my attention back to Father Rook. Just stick to not asking any more questions, I told myself. It was safer for my sanity.

  Father Rook continued, “As for those of you who are descendants of the men who committed the atrocities, I am told you were chosen, most of you, because you would not have been missed by this world. While it shames me that your lives were taken from you, I think you must see that this is a chance to start over. Many of the people you know are gone, but that also means your sins are in the past. You can choose—here and now—to turn over a new leaf and make a difference in this world.” He looked straight at me. “And you can thank that woman over there who committed one selfless act of love for it—the world will forever be changed because of her.”

  Me? James put his arm around me as everyone turned to look.

  I didn’t know what to say. Had I been the one to tip the scales? James had told me about it once, how they all believed that our actions created these invisible ripples, and that one day, they would collide with the bad. The outcome would come down to one person. I didn’t know what I believed.

  “He’s right, you know,” said James’s aunt, coming up beside me. “I saw it all happen in a dream. Your sister, you, the lagoon bringing everyone back after you sacrificed yourself. I’m sorry. So very sorry for the pain I caused you, but there was no other way.”

  So her goal all along was to save everyone? I didn’t know how I felt about it given the emotional price I’d paid, but in the end, James was free and I had everyone I loved most in the world back.

  She smiled at me affectionately and walked off toward the front of the room where Father Rook spoke.

  I turned and looked at James. “I really did get my ultimate wish granted here on the island. I got my family back. I got my life back. And I got you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Rook

  I couldn’t get off the island fast enough, but Stephanie insisted we help get everyone situated before our departure. Many of these people needed the basics—passports, birth certificates, and money to start over—if they planned to live off the island. We could help with all of that, of course, since we had been arranging new identities for a very long time as part of our fountain of youth service. For those who wished to remain, they would help Luke rebuild the resort. Not my concern.

  My job, my only job, was to make Stephanie happy, which was why I wanted to leave the island behind. I’d nearly lost the woman I loved to this place, and being here reminded me of how close I came.

  “Well, I’ve done my share of public service and self-sacrifice,” I said. “However, if it makes you happy, I’ll stick through one more week…as long as you promise to set a date for the wedding.” I had waited an eternity for her—so it felt. I was anxious to lose myself in our new life.

  After a long, long day, we both got into bed, and I rolled on top of Stephanie and settled between her silky thighs. Already hard, just thinking about being inside her, I bent my head and kissed her soft lips. I loved the feel of her warm skin. I loved knowing I would have the rest of my life, no matter how long or short that was, to enjoy every inch of her.

  “I’ve decided I want to get married somewhere exotic. A tropical island, maybe?” She laughed.

  “Very funny.” Over my dead body would we marry or honeymoon on an island.

  She smiled. “Okay, how about upstate New York? Somewhere quiet, not too far from my sister and dad. I’m thinking…a wedding in the backyard of the home we’re about to need—to raise our family.”

  Family. I couldn’t wait to start one. I loved children. I loved her. Was there anything better in this world than getting both?

  “Anywhere you want,” I said, “as long as it’s safe, not an island, and I can spend my days making love to you.”

  “What about work?”

  “What about it? I’ve worked for two centuries and have enough money to last fifty lifetimes and then some.”

  “I meant my work. I’m not going to become some kept woman.”

  I cocked one brow. “Kept?”

  “Okay. Okay. I know I’ll be your wife, but I really want to do more than just live off your money.”

  “How about raising our children?”

  She gave me a sour look. “Your age is showing.”

  “I’m from another time, yes, but…” My voice faded. I wasn’t going to win this debate. “How about I raise our children and you may choose whatever career makes you happy just as long as there’s time left over for me. A lot of time. As you’re already aware, I’m a greedy man when it comes to you.” Time was something I’d once had a seemingly endless supply of and took for granted. Now that the lagoon was gone, every second felt precious. I wouldn’t waste a single day.

  “Deal,” she said. “I’ll start thinking about what I’d like to do after the baby comes in eight months.”

  I froze and blinked at her. “Did you just say…?”

  “Dr. Rosy took my blood when she checked me out earlier. She broke the news at dinner when you were mingling. I’m pregnant.”

  My heart teetered on the precipice of disbelief and utter joy. “So fast?”

  “No. Not so fast.” The pained look in Stephanie’s eyes told me there was more to the story, and I knew right away what it was. “You got pregnant before you left and were taken by Warner.”

  Tears filled her eyes. I rolled off her and pulled her against my chest.

  “Warner almost killed me,” she muttered. “And then I got in that water to save you—I should’ve thought to check. I should’ve known.”

  “Oh, my love.” I stroked her long brown hair. I perfectly understood what Stephanie felt—guilt—but she was smart. She knew that had she learned of the pregnancy, things would have ended differently. “I have never met anyone who loved more deeply than you. You’re going to make a wonderful mother to my child.”

  She sat up to face me. “Our child.” She grinned. “And is that gloating and male pride I hear in your voice?”

  I couldn’t help but smile. I was going to have a family. With her. “I am going to make you so happy, your face is going to hurt from smiling so much.”

  “Now that you mention making me happy, I actually have a request. Two, really.”

  I propped myself up on my elbows. “Go on.”

  “Well, I want to make sure that Warner never hurts us again, but I really don’t feel I can have closure if I know he’s just one lock and key away from freedom.”

  “Already taken care of. He’s leaving tonight in handcuffs and will be deposited to authorities. Seems he’s got thirty-one warrants out for his arrest and a substantial case against him.” That man would never be free again.

  “Really?”

  “Really. You have nothing to worry about.”

  Stephanie exhaled. “I’m relieved. I thought for sure you’d kill him or leave him there to rot.”

  I shook my head. “I’m done with playing god.”

  “How about a god?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “My second request: Since the sets are still here, and I never really did get the full Mr. Rook’s Island fantasy experience, I was kind of hoping you’d…”

  “What
?”

  “No. It’s too embarrassing.” She blushed, and the sight of her rosy cheeks made my heart accelerate. Could this woman possibly be more sexy?

  I gently pinched her chin. “Do you have any idea how many people’s fantasies—no matter how dark, corny, or ridiculous—I’ve brought to life? No need to be shy.” I took her hand and kissed it. “Anything you want, just ask. I’ll make it happen if it’s in my power.”

  She smiled slyly. “I’m so glad you said that.”

  EPILOGUE

  Stephanie

  “Okay! Ready,” I called out, sitting on my throne, my body draped in a white silk toga as I sipped red wine from a goblet.

  I waited, squirming anxiously, but no one appeared.

  “Eh-hem!” I cleared my throat. “I’m ready.”

  “Hold on. I’m coming.” James’s deep voice echoed from somewhere in the room that was decorated like the inside of an ancient Roman temple with torches on the stone walls and statues of deities.

  “So soon?” I chuckled. “You could at least wait for me—your goddess.”

  “Funny.”

  A moment passed and then he appeared at the other end of the cavernous room, wearing a golden chest plate and metal helmet that covered most of his head but left his piercing eyes and angular jaw exposed. In one hand, he held a sword and in the other his shield.

  “Okay. Yeah. That totally works for me.” Especially because I knew he had nothing on beneath those leather flaps making up his tiny skirt—or whatever the hell it was called.

  “Who knew that gladiators were your thing?”

  “You’re supposed to be a warrior god—like Thor.”

  James lifted his sword. “Then shouldn’t I have a hammer?”

  “Oh, but don’t you?”

  It took a moment, but then he looked down at his groin. “So I do.”

  “Now get over here and worship at my feet.” I moved my index finger, gesturing for him to come closer.

  He stalked toward me and stopped just a few feet shy of my throne. “Whatever my goddess wants, my goddess gets.” He lifted his head and stared at me with those eyes. My heart clenched, my core fluttered, and the space between my legs heated. “Forget this. You’re way hotter than any fantasy.”

  He was real. And he’d lived through his own personal hell to finally make it to my life. As for our sins, there would be no more floggings, only forgiveness. We’d both lied. We’d both betrayed. But there’d been reasons outside our control. In the end, it led us here, to an island that brought us together and made thousands of people’s fantasies come to life. People left here finding a piece of themselves. Some left with a chance to start over.

  James marched up the small set of steps and grabbed my hand, yanking me to my feet and then kissing me hard. I loved the feel of this tall, strong man, who I knew would do anything for me.

  Aching to get closer, I slid my hand down his chest plate and underneath his skirt. He was hard and ready.

  “So, so hot,” I whispered against his lips.

  “For you, yes I am. But after this, no more fantasies. There’s only you, me, and the life we build together.”

  I liked that more than he could ever possibly know. “Deal. Now show me what the infamous Mr. Rook really knows about pleasing a woman.”

  THE END…But keep reading for an extra tidbit about Wilma Salinger and info on how to score FREE signed ROOK SERIES bookmarks!

  WILMA SALINGER

  “It’s ringing! It’s ringing.” My hand shook frantically with worry. I’d been trying to get through to Mr. Rook’s Island for over a week, but the line just kept going into some gosh-darn voice mailbox thing.

  “Good afternoon,” said the woman’s voice on the other end of the line.

  “This is Wilma Salinger.” My tone was as frantic as I felt. “I need to speak to Mr. Rook—it’s urgent! Something is wrong. Very, very wrong.”

  There was a long pause on the other end. “Mr. Rook is unavailable, but let me take a—”

  “No. But I need to talk to him! He promised he’d be there for me.” I had been a guest on his island a few weeks ago, and he’d assured me he’d be there if I needed him. It wasn’t easy starting over at the age of eighty, and he’d promised to hold my hand every step of the way, including setting up my new identity as Jenny, a twenty-year-old heiress, to explain my lifestyle. My husband, Bob, God rest his soul, had passed, leaving me a substantial amount of money. It was then my friend Marj told me about Rook’s island and his…secret treatment. I didn’t believe her, but after she came to my house, looking twenty-five again, I was sold. Mostly. It took Mr. Rook’s assurances to get me in that water. He’d promised that whatever I needed, they would always—and he meant “always”—be available. However, a week ago, something started happening. Instead of looking twenty, as I had when I’d left the island, I now looked like I’d aged five years. Worse, I’d found a gray hair and a spot on my face.

  “I understand,” said the woman on the phone. “Please hold one moment.”

  I paced across my bedroom in the new apartment I’d just rented with Meg Perdue, a woman I’d met on the plane coming back from the island. She hadn’t been wearing a red butterfly necklace, so I knew she wasn’t a VIP like me, but we clicked right away. Seemed we were both starting over. Only now, she thought I was insane, since I refused to come out of my room. I couldn’t have her see me changing like this. The same was happening to Marj.

  “Hello, Mrs. Salinger. This is Luke.” His voice was deep and smooth, very much like Mr. Rook’s. “I’m afraid there’s been some recent developments.”

  “Developments? What does that mean?”

  “I cannot discuss it over the phone, for obvious reasons, but we’ve been calling all of our VIPs, informing them of a meeting here on the island. I was just about to call you and make sure you knew about it. Of course, if you cannot make it, you may come at your earliest convenience.”

  This did not sound good. “When is the meeting?”

  “In two days, but rest assured, the issue that concerns you has been dealt with. You are safe. The meeting is simply to reassure everyone and provide updates.”

  I didn’t like this one little bit. I was frightened to begin with, the whole thing being so unnatural. “I want to be there.”

  “Very good. I’ll have our assistant phone you shortly with the travel details.”

  “Yes. Yes. Okay.” I began to sob. I couldn’t help it. Going back to the body I’d left terrified me. Not because of vanity, but because it had been on its last leg.

  “Don’t cry, Wilma,” he said. “Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”

  The tone of his voice soothed my nerves somewhat, but I still felt worried.

  “I will personally make sure of it, all right?” he added, his deep voice tender.

  “Jenny! You in there?” Meg pounded on my bedroom door. Jenny was my new name, of course.

  “I have to go,” I said to the young man on the phone.

  “See you soon.”

  The call ended, and I went to my door, but didn’t open it. “I’m still not feeling well. You can’t come in, Meg.”

  “Jesus Christ, girl,” she said with her thick Alabama accent. “If you’re still sick, we gotta get you to a doctor.”

  “I already saw one this morning,” I lied. “She referred me to a…to a…” I couldn’t come up with a medical specialty to sell my story. “Another guy. He’s good, I hear.”

  Meg made an audible groan through the door. “Can I get you anything?”

  I’d already stocked up on snacks from the kitchen when she’d gone out this morning. “I ate. Thank you. Just stay away.” I coughed for effect. “You don’t want to catch this.”

  “Last time I checked, being a hypochondriac isn’t contagious.”

  Two days later, I was on a private plane bound for Rook’s island. The other travelers, who’d boarded in other cities before me, were all abuzz. I wasn’t the only one who’d experienc
ed the “glitch,” as they were calling it.

  Glitch, my ass. But it seemed that those who were the oldest had experienced more noticeable changes.

  “I’m one hundred and twenty,” said the woman next to me, who looked to be in her fifties, talking to a blonde across the aisle. “But I’m supposed to look forty.”

  “Well, I’m fifty and supposed to look twenty-five,” said the blonde, who then looked at me. “How old are you?”

  My hand nervously slid to my red butterfly pendant, but I didn’t want to answer. I didn’t know any of these people, and Mr. Rook had told me to never, ever speak to anyone about all this. I spoke to Marjorie, of course, but she was my best friend, who’d told me about the “treatment.”

  The other passengers, mostly women, went on with their chatting, and I shrank away, gazing out the window. What was happening to me? I’d lived my entire life cooking, cleaning, washing clothes and being the dutiful wife and mother. In all those years, I couldn’t recall ever doing one thing for myself. Even going to the hairdresser, in the early days, had been for Bob. He liked me to look a certain way for social appearances’ sake. Of course, he hadn’t given a darn about my health. The man did as he pleased in “his castle,” which meant the fool smoked until his dying breath, leaving me with only a short time to live. Lung cancer. And I never even smoked once. Now, for the first time in my life, with my two daughters grown, I’d finally done something for myself: buying a new life. One that would be just for me. I’d planned to swim and learn to scuba dive. I wanted to wake up every morning hearing the sound of the ocean, feeling the warm sand between my toes, and doing whatever struck my fancy.

  As the plane touched down, I nibbled on my fingernail. I didn’t want to die of cancer. I didn’t want to grow old again before I’d had a chance to really live.

  We all shuffled out of the plane and made our way down the stairs. The warm, musty tropical air hit my face, and I inhaled deeply. I loved this weather. It reminded me of the time my daughter took me to the spa for my birthday. They’d practically had to drag me out of the sauna. It was the day I’d realized how much I’d neglected myself over the years.