She wandered across the property, strolling along the sandy, palm-tree-lined path to the restaurant. She was early, but figured she’d grab a glass of champagne at the bar to smooth over the evening, and take the prickly edge off being near to Nate.

She almost tripped in her peep-toed sandals when she spotted him already holding court at the bar, a stunning brunette by his side. The woman looked shockingly like Joanna. The resemblance chilled her. This dark-haired beauty had the same mane of luxurious hair, the same emerald-green eyes, and that same long and lean body. She wore a black pencil skirt, a silky tank top and black pumps. As for Nate, he was too gorgeous to be believed in slacks and a button-down shirt, open at the neck. No tie tonight. The tropical weather simply wouldn’t allow for it.

He held a scotch, clinked his glass with the woman’s, and then took a long swallow. Casey winced at the ease of their interaction, and the way he seemed to slide seamlessly from her to the next woman he wanted in his bed. Some kind of vibe was working between those two. She could tell from the way he laughed at something the slinky brunette said, then the way she dropped her hand onto his forearm, ever so briefly, before letting go. A worm of jealousy slithered in Casey’s gut, turning into a full-blown snake when the woman danced her fingertips across the bar and leaned forward, her silky sheet of hair dangerously close to Nate’s arms, those strong, sexy arms that had held her, pinned her, tied her up.

Oh, hell no. That was not going to fly.

Casey gripped the doorframe, ready to launch an attack. Visions of a fantastic catfight danced in her head. She’d lunge at the woman, grab that black hair, twist it hard, then scratch the woman’s neck. Maybe even her gorgeous face. Anything to keep those claws off her Nate. The battle would rage on, and Casey would yank her off the wooden bar stool and tackle her, landing them both in a heap on the floor of the bar, Casey inflicting punishing blows. All this coiled-up tension would be released in a cathartic, mano-a-mano fight between Casey and the woman she hated for no reason other than that she was laughing and flirting with the man Casey was crazy about.

She lingered on her Fight Club fantasies for another minute, then shooed them away. She was not a violent woman, and didn’t intend to become one now. She believed in pleasure, in intimacy, and in love. That’s why she did what she did for a living. The more she fixated on this jealousy, the further she’d stray from who she truly was.

Besides, she had no plans on ruining her brother’s wedding for the sake of fisticuffs.

She relinquished her grip on the doorframe, smoothed a hand over her gauzy blue dress, then fixed her gaze on the large table near the edge of the sand.