Tempting as it was to dismiss the caller as an encyclopedia salesman, Rachel figured she’d probably caused enough mischief. “There are five Mercedes and approximately fourteen people at the door and on your lawn,” she said to Devin. “I think one of them is your brother.”

“Cool,” Mark said.

“Damn.” Devin absently rotated the ball in his hands, then added cryptically, “So, the SOB is guilty.” With a frown, he climbed out of the pool, wrapped a towel around his waist and padded through the house, not bothering to dry off. Rachel thought it politic to stay where she was.

“What do you think that’s all about?” asked Mark as she put the tray beside the sun loungers.

“I don’t know.” She glanced at her son, torn between removing him from Zander’s orbit and staying to support Devin. By the grimness in his expression, he needed it. “Maybe we should catch the ferry back to Auckland and leave them to it?”

“Are you crazy?” Mark punched the ball to the other end of the pool. “Zander Freedman…wow! He might even have some of the band with him. But you can go if you want,” he added generously.

Rachel sat down, committing to the role of watchdog. “Maybe,” she said, “Zander’s here to surprise his mother on her birthday?”

But from the little she’d seen of him, she doubted it.

“I’M HERE TO SURPRISE Mom for her birthday,” Zander said. He met Devin’s eyes with that same “you question my word, I’ll knock the shit out of you,” expression he always had when he was in the wrong.

“Not to confess, then,” Devin replied, and saw a flicker of culpability before Zander put his shades back on.

“I thought we could clear up that little misunderstanding at the same time.” Stepping into the hall, he glanced around and raised his eyebrows. “You downsizing, baby brother?”

“Yep, only five bedrooms, five bathrooms.” Devin looked beyond Zander to where the others stood. “You can stay, but your entourage will need to find accommodation in Oneroa. Expect to rough it-I don’t have live-in staff.”

“Don’t panic, I’ve rented my own place. But there’s only one comfort I really need.” Without looking around, Zander held out his arm and a blonde stepped into it. “Stormy, this is my brother. Devin, my girlfriend.”

Stormy-probably christened Samantha-gave him the rock chick pout. “Hi, I’ve heard so much about you.” He, on the other hand, knew nothing about her. Not that it mattered; she wouldn’t be around long. Zander was thirty-seven, but the age of his girlfriends never rose above twenty-five. It was starting to get sad.

“Nice to meet you,” he said politely.

Another blonde thrust out a hand, staring at his bare wet chest like a long-lashed limpet. “I’m Zander’s P.A., Dimity.” Unconsciously licking her lips, she dragged her eyes to his face. “Let me introduce you to everybody.”

Resigned, Devin shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with all the people who supported his brother’s ego-the stylist, the personal trainer, the publicist, the bodyguard, the dietician, the chef and a couple of buddies and their girlfriends.

He didn’t recognize any of them, but Zander was notoriously hard to work for. Devin did pick up some useful information, though. No lawyer in the bunch, which, considering the legal trouble Zander was facing, was either very cocky or very clever.

“We chartered helicopters from the airport.” Dimity flicked back her hair. “And we’re en route to the estate we’re renting.” She named one of the newer mansions, built as a vacation home by an Auckland banker, and disparaged by locals as “Miami Vice.” “Zander, I’ll go ahead and check that everything’s satisfactory. I’ll leave Security and one of the cars here.”

Exasperated, Devin looked at his brother. “I’ll give you a lift on the Harley when you want one, and you don’t need a bodyguard here.”

Head cocked, Zander was studying one of the nude paintings. “Really? You’ve left some pretty interesting messages lately.” But he nodded.

Dimity clapped her hands and hollered, “Let’s go, people!”

“Stormy, darlin’, you go with them.” Zander encouraged his girlfriend toward the door with a spank on her shapely rear. “I need to spend a little one-on-one with my baby brother.”

“Actually, that’s going to have to wait,” Devin said. “I have houseguests.”

“The uptight broad who opened the door?” Zander laughed. “Hell, you really are downsizing.”

Devin grabbed his brother’s waistcoat as Zander sauntered past. “If you’re going to be an asshole we’ll talk through lawyers.”

“C’mon, where’s your sense of humor?” Breaking Devin’s grip, Zander draped an arm around his bare shoulders and gave him a none-too-gentle shake. “You’re the poster boy for sobriety now. Make it look fun.”

Shrugging off Zander’s arm, Devin led him through the house to the pool, where Rachel and Mark sat on longues, reading. The teenager leaped to his feet as soon as they came into sight, awe on his face. Rachel glanced warily over the top of her book. Seemed she already had his brother’s measure.

Zander walked toward her with hand outstretched and his most charming smile. “So which wife are we up to now? Four?”

Rachel put down the book. “If that’s your math, you might want to consider an assistant,” she suggested kindly. About to run interference, Devin grinned. His librarian could take care of herself. “And you know very well your brother and I aren’t married,” she added.

Zander’s eyes glittered. “I’m not that great with current affairs, either,” he responded, “but tell me your name anyway, babe, and I’ll try and remember it.”

Her smile lost none of its sweetness. “You can call me Ms. Robinson.”

Mark gasped, but Zander only chuckled as he turned back to Devin. “I take it back, little brother. You upgraded. But holy shit, she must be hard work. I’ll stick with the airheads…”

Astonished, Rachel looked at Devin. “Think of him as a three-year-old in a man’s body,” he advised, “and you’ll know how to deal with him.”

“With a spanking, I hope,” said Zander. “Dev, remember that time we-”

“And this is Mark,” Devin interrupted, “one of my classmates and another musician. Lot of potential as a songwriter.”

“It’s an honor to-to meet you,” Mark stuttered, and Devin was reminded of the first time he’d met the boy. Zander looked bored and he sent him a warning frown.

“Yeah, well.” Zander shook Mark’s hand. “Good to meet you, too. Always a privilege to meet the fans.” It was lip service, but Mark glowed.

From inside they heard a rush of footsteps, then Katherine appeared at the open sliding doors. Spying Zander, she caught the frame for support. “My God, it is true. Alexander Freedman, why didn’t you come straight to your mother’s?”

“Because I wanted it to be a surprise.” He held open his arms. “Happy birthday, Mom.”

With a choked little laugh, Katherine flew into his embrace. “This is so wonderful.”

She grabbed her oldest son’s face between her hands. “Let me look at you…” Deep grooves bracketed his mouth, and under the Californian tan his brother had the slightly bloated look of someone whose excesses were starting to catch up with him. But he still had a steelworker’s arms and shoulders; he spent a lot of time lifting weights.

Devin saw worry flicker in Katherine’s eyes as she measured the changes, then she smiled. “Still gorgeous. How long has it been? Two years. Oh, Alex, I’m so happy I could cry.”

His brother’s face softened. “You are crying, Mom. Now c’mon, you’ll ruin the leather.” Devin tossed him a towel and gently Zander wiped their mother’s eyes. “So, you okay…the heart and everything?”

“Yes, yes…Lord, don’t you start. I get enough of that from your brother.” Katherine caught his hands. “So how long are you here?”

“Only a couple days.”

“Oh, Alex, no, why so short?”

Casually, Zander released her grip. “We’re doing some early promo on the band’s Australasian tour. I’ve got meetings in Sydney on Monday.”