"Sure."

"Well, after this we go back to the suite. You get changed and we go to the dock to meet Katie and Kara."

Kyle swallowed nervously, feeling the nerves rise again in his stomach suddenly.

Patricia leaned forward and looked him in the eye. "It'll be fine. Now, immediately after they get off the boat, the three of you are meeting with Mister Crowler to have the will read to you. That's probably going to take a while by the time he runs through it all with you."

"Okay. Not looking forward to that, but okay."

"After that it's dinner, a few drinks, time for you guys to chat and get to know each other. I'll be around too if you have any questions, or if you just need to talk."

"Thanks," Kyle replied. He would have nodded, but Shiro was doing something around his ear with a very sharp pair of scissors. "That's it for the night?"

"Yeah, but you should remember you have an early start tomorrow with Julian." Patricia grinned at him as his face fell. "Six o'clock sharp."

"Oh, balls." Kyle rolled his eyes. "Well, I'll give it a go, see how I get on, but if that guys a sadist then I'm out of there."

"Don't worry, Julian's cool." Patricia flipped open her phone, tapping away at it to get whatever information she was after. "Let's see. After that you've got breakfast with your sisters, then a business briefing for two hours, then a meeting with a Security Consultant."

"Ah, crazy Mister Connor?" Shiro said suddenly, breaking into a broad grin.

"Yeah," Patricia nodded, then looked back at Kyle. "Connor Grant is a Close Protection specialist, runs his own bodyguard team and he's a guest on the island just now while he recovers from injuries."

"What kind of injuries?"

"Gunshot wound to the right leg. Did you hear about Sir Richard Branson's Island? Had a big fire on it a while back?"

Kyle frowned, remembering seeing headlines about it on the net. "Something about Kate Winslet rescuing his mom?"

"That's it," Patricia nodded. "Well, Connor is a friend of Kate's. He's done some work for her in the past and is tight with her family, so he was out there on vacation with them, as guests of Richard Branson."

"And there was a fire?"

"There was an attempted kidnapping."

"Holy shit," Kyle muttered. "So the fire was just a story then?"

Patricia rolled her eyes. "Stop jumping ahead of the story, Kyle. This team of criminals got on the island in the middle of the night, set off some alarms, and Richard Branson escaped on this mini-scuba submarine thing he's got."

"That's good."

"Well, not really," Patricia frowned. "He left everyone else to the criminals, including his mother, Kate Winslet and her kids and twenty three other people. Including Connor Grant."

"So he took them out?"

She nodded. "Not without cost though. He had to set fire to the main building as a diversion, and when he was taking the kidnappers out, he got badly beaten and took a bullet to the leg in the process, but he did it."

"Wow. Sounds like Rambo or something."

"I know. So Branson comes back at lunchtime the next day from where he's been hiding in a cave, and by that time there's Police and extra Security all over the place. His media people have already put the story out about a lightning strike causing a fire, and this whole thing about Kate Winslet rescuing Bransons mother."

"So why is Connor Grant here instead of on Bransons Island recovering?" Kyle asked. "Did they fall out?"

"Yeah. Branson made this big song and dance in front of all his staff about how Connor was a hero and he would be getting all his medical bills picked up, as well as a large bonus for protecting his family. Connor called him a cowardly bitch in front of everyone and told him he'd rather shove wasps up his own ass than accept a penny from a piece of shit like him."

"He really said that?"

"Yeah. That's from three different people who were there," Patricia said firmly. "Of course, as soon as Mister Tripps heard about it, he had Connor whipped off to the best medical staff, then brought him here to recover. Mister Tripps even flew in Connors mother and nephew for a couple of weeks too."

"Can I ask," Kyle said, hesitating for a minute. "Surely Richard Branson escaping was a good thing, right? I mean, if he wasn't there, then the kidnappers wouldn't have their target. Isn't that what he was supposed to do?"

"That wasn't the problem," Patricia grinned. "When the alarms tripped, Branson ran so fast for the sub that he took the keys for the safe room with him, and knocked his own mother off the pier and into the water in his haste to escape."

"Man, that's low," Kyle muttered. "He knew he did it?"

"Oh, yes."

"Wow. No wonder Connor was pissed. I bet Branson's mother was too."

"I believe she actually hit him with her handbag," Patricia chuckled.

"That's awesome," Kyle said, smiling. "Hey, Shiro. How come you called him crazy Mister Connor?"

"Mister Connor is a bit...." The hairdresser began, but Patricia cut him off.

"When he's working, the guy's a legend. Seriously, he's that good."

"But?"

"But when he's off duty.... think Hank Moody in Californication," Patricia explained. "Drinking, womanising, getting into trouble. Eliza Dushku described him as having the morals of a horny dog."

Kyle started laughing. "Sounds like they've got history."

"Yeah, I've heard stories, but nothing concrete."

"He sounds like quite a guy."

"Kyle, if you start to act like him, I'm quitting," Patricia told him, a smile on her face. "However, as I said, when he's working he's first class. So tomorrow he's going to help you guys pick out your personal security team leaders."

"Oh. Cool."

"Maybe. Just don't take him in the bar, okay?"

"I won't," Kyle agreed.

"So after that there's another workout, lunch and a full afternoon of business briefings. Then your third workout of the day, dinner and bed."

"Oh, Master Kyle," Shiro grinned. "Your legs are gonna be wobbly like jelly."

"But my hair will look good, right?" Kyle smiled.

"Not good. Awesome."

"Awesome works for me."

It took another ten minutes before he left the salon, and Kyle had to admit, his hair looked awesome. They'd left the stubble on his face but trimmed it to a uniform length, and while he thought it sounded a bit George Michael, it didn't look it.

Patricia hustled him up to his suite and bluntly ordered him to get dressed. Margaret had laid out a pair of heavily faded black jeans by Armani with a belt already laced through them, a pair of black leather boots and a loose black shirt with a sheet of paper in the pocket. "Roll the sleeves, don't fold them. Leave the top three buttons undone," He read. A pair of sunglasses lay to the side of them on the bed.

He got changed as fast as he could and met Patricia back on the balcony.

"Have I got time for a smoke?" He asked, his stomach rolling like a rowing boat in a hurricane with nerves.

She frowned and checked her watch. "Have one as we walk down. You'll smell like smoke though."

"It's either that or I need half a bottle of tequila and a sedative to calm my nerves." Kyle muttered.

The closer they got to the pier the more nervous Kyle got. It didn't matter that he'd met both Katie and Kara before. If anything, that made it worse. He didn't know if Kara would recognise him at all, or if she did, would she have him chalked up as one of a thousand perverted losers who'd paid to see her naked. Worse, he might be remembered as that creep who jizzed in his pants.

As for Katie, Kyle knew that she'd remember him. That night they'd spent together was burned in his memory, and he knew how she felt about it at the time too. They'd made love in the dark, then again when they woke in the morning, not a word exchanged. They'd showered together, then lay holding each other until they couldn't avoid getting up. Even then, he'd accompanied her all the way to the airport, shared a really tender goodbye kiss with her, and then kicked himself for months that he hadn't got her contact details, or just up and moved to New York to find her.

What would her reaction be now? He was sure she'd recognise him in the photo that Mister Crowler would show her, and he only hoped that his message had got through to her. To both of them, if Kara remembered him at all.

"Kyle," Patricia said, stopping just before they got to the beach. He stopped walking and she steered him to one side of the path. "Take a deep breath, relax. Both of them are probably going to be as terrified as you are, so now would be a good time to step up, be confident and show them around. Show them that you're a nice guy."

Kyle looked around and admitted his worst fears, knowing Patricia already knew the worst of it. "What if they're disgusted with me, Patricia? What if they think I'm some sleazy scumbag pervert weirdo?"

"The only thing you can do right now is show them who you are, Kyle. That's all that's expected of you, and once you get the chance to chat with each of them alone, I bet you'll find that they're as scared as you are. Plus, you had to come to this place on your own. At least they're doing it together, with Mister Crowler accompanying them and their own assistants too."

Kyle rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "Fuck my life."

"You'll be fine," Patricia said firmly. "Come on. We need to get out on the pier. I can see the boat coming in."

"It's here already?" Kyle blurted. "Fuck."

They hustled down to the beach to meet Edwin and the three of them walked towards the end of the pier. Kyle could see the Betsy coasting towards them, slowing as it approached the end of the wooden walkway.

His palms were sweating and he could feel his heart beating fast in his chest as the boat got within a few feet of the pier and one of Captain Wales' crew hopped up and tied the boat to one of the posts.

"Fuck fuck fuck," Kyle whispered, knowing the moment was fast approaching.

"Hey," Patricia whispered. "Take a breath and stop looking so grim. Just relax."

Kyle took a deep breath and tried to get a grip, but he saw his hands were shaking. "Fuckety fuck fuck."

Patricia moved a little closer until she was standing directly beside him. As Kyle watched the crew setup the gangplank between the boat and the pier, she whispered, "Maybe I should just push you in the water. What do you think?"

Kyle looked at her and saw the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth and despite his nerves, he smiled.

"That's a little better. Now you don't look like you've just discovered you're in bed with an angry Lorena Bobbitt."

"The penis chopper woman?" He muttered, shaking his head.

"That's her," Patricia nodded. "Striking fear into mens pants the world over. At least you know she's not your sister."

"That's not even funny," Kyle whispered, knowing that he couldn't help but chuckle. As Captain Wales stepped out the cabin onto the rear deck, Kyle realised that Patricia's jokes had settled his nerves a bit and he made a mental note to thank her later.

It was too late to think about anything else as a woman appeared on the rear deck and shook hands with the Captain. Kyle recognised the long, dark curly hair, the taught physique that couldn't be hidden by the calf-length olive shorts or the loose white blouse.

As she turned to walk up the gangplank to the pier, Kyle knew she was looking at him, knew that on the other side of the huge sunglasses that completely covered her eyes that those eyes were looking at him.

He swallowed and took a step forward to take her hand as she stepped clear of the gangplank.

"Hi," He managed to croak, his mouth dryer than a drought in death valley.

"You must be Kyle," Kara said, shaking his hand.

He recognised her voice immediately, that slight huskiness bringing back memories of her talking to him in the strip club.

"Pleased to finally meet you," He mumbled. Then remembering Patricia's earlier advice to just be himself, he added, "Sorry. I'm really nervous."

"Oh, you're not the only one," She smiled, and Kyle felt himself relax a little.

"That's good to know." Kyle turned a little and gestured towards Edwin. "This is Edwin, the Island Manager."

Kara moved clear of the gangplank to shake hands with Edwin and Kyle felt his stomach tighten again suddenly.

Katie.

She was standing at the boat end of the gangplank looking directly at him, searching with her eyes, seeking assurance it was really him, he knew. He did the same, an unconscious gesture, his eyes taking in her dark hair framing her face, her figure that closely resemlbed her sister but seemed somehow more voluptous, more natural. Kyle watched as she gently bit her lip, then stepped forward.

"You must be..." Kyle began.

"Call me Katie," She said, cutting him off with a friendly smile. She reached the gangplank and as he offered a handshake, she bypassed it and he felt her body close with his.

Kyle was startled and froze, not sure exactly what to do. Katie gave him a kiss on the cheek and he felt her squeeze him, so somewhat awkwardly he gave her a quick hug.

"Sorry to startle you," She said stepping back. "I just thought if I'm meeting my brother for the first time, I should give him a hug." She made definite eye contact with him for those two important words, letting him know she'd got his message from the lawyer, and it had been understood.

Kyle let out a breath and nodded. "Nice to finally meet you," He said, stepping back. He knew as soon as he did it that it was a bad move. He felt the tip of his toe brush the edge of the wooden walkway, and as his arms flailed to reach the nearby wooden post he knew he'd failed on an epic level.

Kyle fell into the water.

"I still can't believe I just did that," Kyle said as he showered the salt water off his body in his en-suite. "What a fucking moron."

He heard Patricia chuckle from her seat on the edge of the bath. "Hey, it could have been worse."

"How?"

There was a pause. "Good point."

"Cheers," He grunted.

"Oh, I know," She said quickly. "You could have dragged Katie in with you. Or you could have fainted and broke your nose. Those would have been worse."

Kyle paused. "Yeah, okay. I'll give you them. Either of them would have been worse."

"Plus, it's kinda like making a dramatic entrance. The proverbial big splash." He heard her chuckle again.

"How long you been saving that one up?"

"Since before Captain Wales pulled you back onto the pier."

Kyle finished rinsing the gel off him and turned the shower off. "I'm done."

"Alright. I'm gonna go grab you some clothes."

Kyle heard her move out the bathroom and opened the door, still surprised at how the white glass turned clear as he opened the door. He grabbed a towel, dried himself off and then wrapped it around his waist and walked through to the bedroom.

Patricia had thrown a pair of faded blue jeans on the bed and a pair of Converse All-Stars with a pair of socks sticking out the top.

Kyle grabbed the denims and turned his back to the dressing room. He got his left leg into them when the towel fell off and as he hurried to put the right leg in and pull them up, Patricia appeared from the doorway.

Kyle knew she'd just seen his ass as he hopped upright, yanking the jeans up to cover himself. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing her amused expression.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," She smirked, and turned back into the dressing room. "You need to get some sun on that."

Kyle chuckled. "You talking about my ass?"

"Yeah," She called back. "Don't tell the boss though. I dont' want to get fired for harassment."

"I think that only happens if I talk about your ass, doesn't it?"

"Don't know what to tell you, Kyle," Patricia called back. "I guess we're a long way from sexual equality in the workplace. Someone should look into that."

Kyle smiled as he sat on the bed to pull on his socks and sneakers. He'd been really enjoying the conversations recently with Patricia. He didn't know if it was just him, or if they had a bit of a flirty thing going on. Maybe it was her frank honesty, but Kyle felt drawn to her, as if she was a friend he'd known for a long time.

With a frown he realised she was the only thing he had on the Island that was even close to a friend. He didn't know what Katie was and he was all too aware that he'd felt like a lovestruck teenager when he saw her on the boat. As for Kara, he had no idea if she'd recognised him or not. Whatever the case he knew he'd need to tell her.

His good mood now gone, he fastened on his sneakers and stood up. "Patricia. Have you got a top for me?"

"I can't decide," She called. "Come in and help me choose."

Kyle sighed and walked into the dressing room, seeing her flicking through the racks of tops and shirts that hung neatly on two rails. She turned and looked him up and down, then pulled at a lemon coloured polo shirt.

"No," Kyle said, immediately shaking his head.

"The only thing I've got that goes with those jeans is this mental bermuda shirt," She said, frowning. "I'm quite surprised that Margaret put it on the list."

"She didn't. I kinda bought it on impulse."

Patricia chuckled. "Well you're gonna have to take the jeans off and change them, Kyle."

"Just give me something black. It'll be fine."

"Hey, you're not the one who's going to have to put up with an apoplectic Margaret," Patricia muttered as she pulled out a dark pair of loose linen trousers and a black v-necked top. "Come on, Kyle. Get your jeans off so we can get out of here. Everyone's waiting for us."

"Right here?"

"I'm not gonna look, so stop being a baby," Patricia replied.

Kyle stared at her for a second but she was busy browsing through the tops again. He shrugged and bent down to unlace the sneakers, then stepped forward to grab the linen trousers.

Patricia held them out to the side, and as he took them he saw her eyes flicker down to the side, as if trying to catch a glimpse.

He frowned as he replayed it in his head, wondering if it had just been an involuntary movement, a sensing motion kind of thing, or if she'd deliberately tried to sneak a glance at his cock.

"For fucks sake, Kyle. Just get changed," He told himself.

With his eyes fixed on her, he pulled the denims off and slipped the linen trousers on. It felt a little odd to see her standing there, only a few feet away while he had his junk out.

"Maybe I'm just imagining it."

"Got the pants on yet?"

"Yeah," Kyle replied, lacing up his Cons again. Patricia turned and brought him the v-neck top and he slipped it on and shrugged it into place.

"You'll do," She told him. "Let's go."

"Where are we meeting?"

"Downstairs in one of the business suites."

"Wait, I need to dry my hair," Kyle said quickly.

"Leave it," Patricia replied quickly. "They'll think you've been rushing and haven't waited to dry it."

"That's kinda true."

"Except for the wardrobe uncertainty," Patricia agreed. "You'll want to gloss right over that part."

Kyle followed her downstairs and around the side of the pool, turning left to head into one of the business suites where he could see Mister Crowler sitting behind a desk. On the other side of it sat three large leather chesterfield armchairs, Katie in the one on the left, Kara on the right.

He took a deep breath, feeling the tension of what was to come. He knew inside that room he would find out what his future would be like, what his responsibilities were and what Danny Tripps, the man who had gave him up for adoption would have to say to him and his sisters.

"Good luck, Kyle," Patricia said quietly. "I'll see you when you get out."

He entered the room and closed the door.

"It's a lot to take in," Patricia said gently.

Kyle was sat on his balcony, chain-smoking and watching a spectacular sunset that he just couldn't appreciate. The afternoon had been too draining.