Everyone turned expectantly, waiting for them to explain.

"Knotted Garden is on the island. They've agreed to play a few songs tonight at Island Divers."

"Are you kidding?" Mitch said. Everyone was in a buzz about the news.

"Rick grew up in the same town as the bass player. They stopped in to do some diving for a few days. The concert is free, and everyone is invited!"

There were several small dive shops on the island but Paradise and Island Divers were the largest operations and often affectionately called diving colleges by the students. Laid out like a campus, Island Divers displayed a more elaborate and spacious layout than Paradise, which was nothing more than a building and a large deck. Island Divers sat in the middle of the island on the inland bay, and while it looked a little more sophisticated than her choice, Rhees said a prayer of thanks that she'd chosen Paradise, even with its grumpy owner.

The water in the bay was dark, a little smelly, and a yucky green. The campus, lacking the gentle breeze coming off the ocean, felt stuffy and extra humid. The same crude planks, the standard on the island, stretched from one end of campus to the other, all a very large deck built over swamp ground.

A long narrow building stretched along the north edge of the property, lined with doors. The office and equipment room stood at the west end, farthest away from the water, while the other end appeared to be apartments. Claire had mentioned that Rick made a little extra money renting the apartments to his own students and that she wished Paradise had room to do that. The extra income would help.

A large, round, open building with a roof and a bar with stools encircling it sat in the center of the campus. The kitchen and liquor station were set up inside. On the south edge of campus sat another gazebo, set up like a stage. A set of drums, an assortment of guitars, and a few amplifiers were ready to go, and that is where everyone gathered to find the best place to stand before the famous band started to play.

Paul strolled through the entrance with Mitch and Shanni. He spotted Rhees at the bar and their eyes met, but she immediately turned her back on him. Mitch and Shanni headed toward the stage while Paul made his way to the bar to claim one of the last empty stools, positioned a few feet from where Rhees stood, and where he would be able to see the stage and watch the concert without having to stand.

Tracy and Regina ordered a shot of tequila and a beer.

"No thank you. After the dance contest, I'm never doing that combination again." Rhees made the funniest face. She ordered a pia colada.

"Mmm, this is good. I can't even taste the alcohol," she said when the bartender handed her the drink. She made Paul grin.

"Probably because there isn't enough in there to matter." Tracy laughed for the same reason Paul wanted to.

The concert started and after the first two songs, the lead singer announced they wouldn't play anymore unless the ladies moved to the front and danced. Everyone laughed, but the girls all made their way excitedly to the front.

Rhees danced in a sea of girls, having a good time. She wasn't intoxicated so her movements were more reserved-closer to what the others were doing but better. She danced the way you'd expect someone to dance at a concert, but the control she had over her body-every part of that gorgeous body. She moved more parts all at once than anyone Paul had ever seen.

She wore her brown dress and bronze heels again, and Paul only had to look around to know he wasn't the only one admiring the way she moved. He didn't doubt the memory of her winning the dance contest was still on many minds. She danced at the front, so close to the stage she could probably see the sweat on the band members' faces.

Is the drummer making eyes at her? Paul shifted uncomfortably in his seat and glared at him. The drummer didn't notice how Paul shot bullets with his eyes, but Paul didn't miss the way Rhees' cheeks blushed, assuring him that she'd noticed the drummer's admiration too.

When the concert ended, the band members came off the stage and started mingling with the crowd, signing autographs and having their pictures taken with their fans. Rhees moved back to a vacant spot at the bar, not far from where Paul sat, and ordered another pia colada.

While she waited for her order, she leaned over the bar and reached behind to fiddle with the napkins, straightened them. She studied the paraphernalia behind the counter, adjusted a few more items. She finally noticed Paul and they stared at each other for several seconds. He couldn't read her expression. He tried to keep his neutral, until she was the first to look away, turning her head as far from his direction as she could crane her neck and rested her chin on her hand. He ordered another drink but didn't stop watching.

Someone stepped right next to her, invading her personal body space, and she jerked, turning quickly to scowl at the intruder.

"Hi. You're a pretty good dancer."

The drummer stood next to her, and her mouth dropped to the floor. He stood so close that they could have been Siamese twins, in Paul's opinion.

"I'm Rob." He held out his hand but she gaped in shock, or awe, and didn't take it. He finally reached for hers and manipulated it to look like they were shaking hands and he smiled. "And you are?"

"Rhees," she squeaked.

"Nice to meet you, Rhees." He smiled at her until she seemed to regain her wits.

A goofy, star-struck grin broke across her face. "You're a pretty good drummer." She couldn't stop smiling. "I've always wanted to play the drums."

"Oh really? It's about time you had a lesson then." He never did let go of her hand as he pulled her to the stage. Rhees followed like a star-struck groupie.

Paul watched them as Rob sat on the seat at the drums and pulled her onto his lap. He put a drumstick in each of her hands and, with his hands around hers, proceeded to lightly play while getting all cozy with her.

Rhees laughed and acted all embarrassed every time she messed up, and Rob smiled and laughed with her while he had his hands all over her.

"What a pud," Paul mumbled.

They were having a good time-too good a time. Paul had never seen her so happy. He looked away with a scowl. After what felt like a lifetime, he glanced back in time to see them leave the stage and walk out the entrance of the shop. He tossed back the rest of his drink and grumbled an order for another.

Things were a little different at the shop when they had guests. The Swensons, a family of six, showed up the next day. There was Mr. and Mrs. Swenson, a fifteen year-old daughter named Heather, and a thirteen year-old son, Matthew, both from the father's previous marriage. A five year-old boy, Asher, and a three year-old girl named Imogen, were new additions from the current and obviously newer model, Mrs. Swenson. All of them were certified except the two youngest.

Students took a backseat to whatever the guests needed. Paul coached everyone to treat their guests like royalty and even had Mitch set up their gear for them. The students were always expected to set their own gear up. With Paul to supervise and Mitch as the designated dive master, the boat left that morning while the mother stayed with the young children. Rhees could tell how sad it made her to be left behind.

"The sacrifices a mother makes," Rhees said.

The mom smiled. "Yes. I knew this was going to happen the second I got pregnant the first time. I love being a mom, but sometimes . . ."

"Well, you're scheduled for the night dive tonight, right?"

Mrs. Swenson shook her head. "I'm not sure. My husband told his kids we would all take turns sitting out a dive to watch the little ones, but you know teenagers."

When the boat came back, Rhees didn't hesitate to jump in and help put the gear away. Mitch and Paul were the only others who did. The Swensons left to go get lunch and take the kids back to their room until the night dive.

Once the Swensons were gone, the people at the shop returned to their normal routines and Rhees grudgingly found herself sitting against the gazebo rail, unnoticed and subjected to the latest Coitus Club gossip. She had two more pages to finish reading and then she'd head to the office to get away.

Shelli announced she had to leave early and once she was far enough away, Dorene excitedly recounted to the remaining girls the details of her surprise visit from Paul the night before. Apparently, angry sex with Paul, in Dorene's opinion, was absolutely the best thing ever.

Normal sex was still a mystery, something Rhees didn't allow herself to think about, but surprisingly, she found herself a little too curious about whatever the heck angry sex could be.

"Isn't all sex angry when Paul's involved?" Shanni asked with a little laugh. Shanni wasn't an official member of the club as far as having first-hand knowledge of Paul's lovemaking skills, but she was fabulously pretty, and as Mitch's girlfriend, she'd known Paul longer than any of the other girls. She fit in well at their meetings, sharing other insights about Paul, things she'd gleaned from their association. "The man has three emotions. Angry, drunk, and horny."

All the girls laughed except Regina, who always sat close enough to hear, intentionally.

"No. He is so much more than that." Regina was quick to defend him. "How can you say such a thing? I thought you were his friend."

"Paul is Mitch's friend," Shanni answered. "I didn't like him at first. He's better now since Ginger left."

"Ginger." Regina let the name roll off her tongue with a jeer as though it left a nasty taste in her mouth. Rhees stifled a laugh at the idea that Paul was better now than before. This is better?

"Mitch told me-" Shanni glanced around to see if Paul or Mitch were within earshot. She leaned in to the girls to share her secret. "When they first met, Paul told Mitch he'd killed someone. They were both wasted at the time but when Mitch asked him about it later, Paul said Mitch must have been hallucinating-refused to talk about it, ever again."

"Preposterous! Mitch did hallucinate such a thing," Regina said. "Paul is no murderer."

"I didn't say murder," Shanni said, eyeing Regina as if wondering why she was even there, like she'd just realized Regina didn't fit in. "That's just what I heard, and Paul did get into a lot of fights back then-didn't pick fights as I recall, but he never backed down, and he always won."

"I'm glad he doesn't fight anymore," Krista said. "I'd hate to see that pretty face disfigured." All the girls nodded, murmuring in agreement.

"I'm glad he's just a lover now, not a fighter, though I'd have angry sex with him anytime," Dorene said with a wicked grin. "In fact, I'm looking for a volunteer to go irritate him for me right now. I'd be up for another round."

"Ha!" Brita said. "You know how it works. It's been a while since I've had my turn, though. Who'll volunteer?"

"Where's Rhees when we need her?" Brita asked and they all broke into a fit of laughter while Rhees held her breath, wondering how long she'd be stuck hiding behind the rail.

"Princess Danarya, I need you in the office, now." Paul's voice cracked over the speaker.

What? Rhees pursed her lips. Her given name wasn't bad enough? Why'd he call me that? The Coitus Club girls had finally left for lunch but Rhees still didn't move. She smirked to herself thinking how they'd run off too soon after their remark about her irritating Paul. She knew it wouldn't sit well with him to be ignored but decided to live up to her reputation.

"Danarya, get your ass in here!"

It only made her more determined to defy him. She got up from the floor of the deck and moved to sit on top of the table inside the gazebo where he'd be sure to find her. She waited for him to come out of the office.

He did and when he spotted her, he marched at her like he was on a mission-a mission to kill someone with his bare hands. She remembered Shanni's comments and regretted her decision to anger him. Her heart pounded, but she tried to keep a brave face.

"I called you to the office!" he roared.

"I didn't hear you call me." She folded her arms and held her ground, but she wasn't too far from breaking out into a case of the shivers. There was something more to his mood than his usual grumpy self. He really is going to kill me.

"I called twice." His tone calmed a little, looking her over.

"I only heard you call Danarya. I'm Rhees." She worked to keep it steady. "And Princess?"

His jaw set and his cheek twitched as he looked her over, again. "Rhees, would you please come to the office?"

"Yes, I would be happy to," she said sweetly. She finally relaxed when she caught a glimpse of him trying not to smile.

He turned and headed back with her on his heels, wondering what he wanted that was so important and had him all riled up. He walked into the office and sat down at his computer, leaving her to wait for him to tell her.

"The plants need water," he muttered.

Seriously? All this is about the plants? She'd just watered them yesterday, but it wasn't worth the fight. She grabbed the two plants in the office and carried them out to the shower to soak them. She returned them to their place and started to walk out.

"The T-shirts need to be organized. The Swensons said they want to buy a few." She looked at the box of already organized shirts. She wasn't about to pretend to organize them again. She looked around the now very organized office. She'd been working hard. She enjoyed organizing and she was good at it. She sighed and plopped into Claire's chair since Claire and Dobbs were out to lunch.

"Darn it, Paul. Why don't you just tell me what the crap is really bothering you?" Rhees asked.

He turned and flashed his murderous glare. She didn't shrink this time. She knew he had something on his mind and she wanted him to just get out with it.

"What makes you think there's something bothering me?"

"Because you're even freakin' grumpier than your usual meanie-head self."

"Shoot, darn, gosh, crap, freakin', and now 'meanie-head?" Fuck. Did you get your potty mouth in the back alleys of Mayberry?"

"No," she yelled. She didn't mean to. She took a breath and tried not to smile. ". . . Sesame Street."

He actually chuckled, kind of. He closed his eyes and she watched as he played with his mouth, alternating between biting his lips and pursing them. He seemed calmer when he opened them again. "So what'd you do last night?"

"Went to the concert."

"After!"

"Um . . . I got a free drum lesson from a famous, world-class drummer."

"I saw. Then what did you do?"

"Why do you care?"

Paul shrugged, casually. "Just find it curious that Miss Stick-Up-Her-Ass is too good for the locals, but a famous, world-class drummer comes to town . . ."

She hung her head, not because of what Paul said but because of what really happened the night before. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Did he hurt you?" Paul suddenly sounded concerned.

"No." She scowled. Not physically, anyway, she thought.

Paul exhaled and looked out the window. Rhees watched as he ran his lips through his trademark motions, a slow lick of his lips, bite the lower lip, pucker, cheek twitch, pucker again . . . She only now realized it was a nervous habit. It shocked her a little to think he ever got nervous.

"Is that it then? You just wanted to know last night's agenda?" He was so confusing.

He slowly tilted his head toward her. His eyes rolled to meet hers. He still had a scowl on his face.

"Paul. This is really getting old. I'll be going home soon, and you still haven't scheduled me to get my open water dives. Maybe . . . you could prorate my tuition and let me go to Island Divers to finish while I still have time. We could be out of each other's hair."

"No," he said, clipped and angry again. "I don't prorate anything, and I don't give fucking refunds just because a fucking student gets all wishy-washy and can't just be honest about what really the fuck is going on."

They didn't see Claire walk in.

"Would you really let me go home without my certification, even though I paid you every penny I have in the world to get it?" The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of him, but tears welled in her eyes.

"No, Rhees. He won't do that," Claire yelled. "He's going to get you on the bloody boat before it's too late. If he doesn't, I will take you out and certify you myself. We'll do it from the shore if we have to."

Paul whipped around and glared at Claire, but she just glared right back and didn't flinch.

Rhees slipped out through the tunnel and leaned against the wall in the compressor room. She slid down to the floor and cried. She was done. She'd used up all her reserve courage, and now she just wanted to run. She would run, if her muscles weren't trembling so badly.

She could still hear the shouting match between Paul and Claire, though she wished she couldn't. She put her hands over her ears as the tears continued to stream down her face.