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Doing nothing but lying on the beach would have driven Delanie Skhye crazy a year ago, but after shooting four straight films and enduring the publicity surrounding her breakup with Rhye Hamilton the nothingness scheduled for the next month felt wonderful. The little green dot of land she called home, at least for a while, was a welcome respite to the crap she usually put up with.

Heck, the crystal whitecaps and the non-smogged air were enough to make her want to stay. But the solitude equaled heaven in her mind. No horns honking, no angry drivers, no spying neighbors. The owner mentioned she might see a boat in the distance, but this was the Bahamas and there were bound to be boats.

The real kicker was no one knew where she'd gone. The paper trail connected to her name was non-existent. She'd inked her name on nothing tying her to the island.

The new identity matched her new hairstyle. Ms.-Blonder-than-she-paid-to-be had gone dark, at least temporarily dark. The cheap dye job had already started to wash out and would be gone in a week or less, revealing her trademark blonde locks.

Thank goodness the coloring had done its job. The pilot and the airlines knew her as Mysti Blake, not the world famous actress, Delanie Skhye. Of course she used stage makeup to hide herself from prying eyes on the trip over. God, she had looked awful. But the ruse worked. The legalities of her move were sketchy, but she would get her lawyer to work it all out if she got into trouble, not that anyone would ever know she was here.

The reward for her deception was a month of glorious freedom. She couldn't believe her luck. The last time she lived without the paparazzi parade making a fuss was five years ago, right before Life Control hit big. The movie made her a household name, rocketing her stardom to dizzying heights.

The spectacle of her movie career had drained her. A short break would make all the difference in the world for her mental acuity and her looks. The exhaustion of working nonstop had put five years on her face, this month she hoped to gain back at least two of those years.

Last night she started reading books again, and then she'd actually worked through a rough outline for a script. Of course her blondness would hinder her quest for writing and directing, but eventually they would take her seriously.

Early in her career she'd used the dumb blonde skit to her advantage, now the time neared for her smarts to be the main attraction and not her face. Financially, she could afford to never work again. Mentally, the lack of direction would drive her bonkers.

Delanie rolled over and let the sun warm her back. The tropical trees swayed around her in the gentle breeze. The scent of the ocean clung to her nostrils and competed with the fragrance of the frangipani and marlberry. Her eyes closed, and her mind slowed. This month of rest and relaxation without any interruption would give her the edge she needed.

The skin on the back of her neck crawled. Her head popped up as she opened her eyes, looking through the trees and out into the deep blue of the water. A boat drew close to the island, its white sail snapping in the wind. Maybe they would leave, but then again maybe not.

In one angry motion she jumped off the chair and pulled on her t-shirt. Damn it, she wanted nothing to do with any guests. Time to go down to the dock and run them off.

Copyright Sara Thacker 2011