TURTLE ISLAND, Fiji -- In my dreams, I am lying on a warm white crescent of beach in the shade of towering palms as frothy surf crashes before me and the love of my life leans over with a soft kiss, an icy glass of champagne and sweet words of affection.

"I think I burned my feet," says my husband, David, flubbing his lines. But then even the best-scripted love scene can go awry, and all in all, he is performing fabulously as my leading man here on our little swath of Pacific paradise.

The rest of the scenario is exactly as I dreamed it.

If David and I feel like we are part of a stage set on Turtle Island, an exclusive resort island in Fiji's Yasawa group, perhaps it is because life here often has the ambiance of a grand theatrical production. This love story has a cast of 14 wealthy couples in airy beach-front cottages and 100 Fijian staff, including housekeepers who hug, an inspired chef and roving musicians whose ukuleles and guitars add a lilting South Pacific soundtrack to the mix of sun, sand and snuggling.

There's even a film crew of sorts -- a videographer named Raymond who records magical moments and sells them back to you via a $50 personalized tape.

Directing this sensual extravaganza is a 62-year-old American entrepreneur named Richard Evanson who made his millions in cable TV in the '60s, bought this deserted 500-acre island to escape stress, alcoholism and a bad divorce in the '70s, began inviting paying guests in the '80s, and has pretty much perfected his vision of Shangri-La in the '90s.

It didn't hurt that Evanson could tout the island's beauty by pointing out that the South Pacific love story The Blue Lagoon was filmed here, both the 1949 original movie with Jean Simmons and the 1980 remake starring Brooke Shields in long legs and loin cloth. Some of the movie's steamiest scenes were filmed near our favorite patch of sand, one of 12 isolated beaches around the island that couples can reserve for a day of private swimming, picnicking or whatever.

Getting to Turtle Island is part of the fun. Swooping in by seaplane after a 30-minute flight from the Fijian capital of Nadi, couples (Turtle Island does not welcome singles) are greeted by singing Fijians. They are then handed a coconut filled with fruit punch and whisked to huge beach-front cottages called bures, where wooden plaques carved with the new occupants' first names set a homey tone.

With thatched roofs, ceiling fans and hand-made furniture, the bures are seductive places to laze away the morning, escape the sun's hottest afternoon rays and cuddle into the wee hours.

There are no televisions or phones in the rooms to distract lovers from each other. A lone TV in the resort lounge broadcasts Fijian news for 30 minutes each night.

Turtle Island's unabashed emphasis on romance attracts many well-heeled newlyweds. Amenities that might come with a honeymoon package at other resorts -- champagne, breakfast in bed, a candle-lit dinner for two -- are available daily here at no extra charge.

The hefty $1,000US daily rate per couple includes all food, alcoholic beverages and activities. Each bure's wet bar is stocked with the occupants' brands of choice. David had a limitless supply of Jack Daniel's. I could have taken a bath in my Tattinger champagne.

If the price sounds over the top -- and there's no question it will put a significant dent in all but the flushest bank account -- consider that free-flowing wine and liquor, private dining, unlimited athletic activities, a guest list limited to 28 people, and a staff-to-guest ratio of seven-to-one do not come cheap.

We met a couple who planned to return for a week at Turtle Island in lieu of a big expensive wedding back home. Those who want both can have a traditional Fijian wedding on the island; $2,200US buys all the fixings, from wedding garb made of hand-painted tapa (pounded tree bark) to garlands of frangipani and hibiscus flowers for all, a choir and feasting and drinking into the night. A bride is unlikely to forget being transported to the beach on a wedding raft or heralded by a conch-shell concerto.

When Evanson created Turtle Island, he was after a sensual mix of private moments, candle-lit camaraderie and dramatic intervals. Over the years he has fashioned just such a world -- the communal and the private complement each other so that one hour a couple can be sharing their life stories with others at a cocktail party, the next having a moonlit dinner for two at a mountain-top table.

My husband and I spent a day splashing naked in an isolated cove, a picnic cooler and double hammock awaiting us in a thatched shelter, then donned sulus -- Fijian serapes worn by both sexes -- and joined other guests on a sunset cruise.

Early one morning we galloped across the beach on a sunrise horseback ride that culminated with a private champagne breakfast at the water's edge. The trail back took us beside brilliant blooms and fruit trees that Evanson has planted en masse to turn the once scruffy island into a lush expanse of flowers and vegetable gardens that supply most of the resort's produce.

Most mornings, we joined the communal breakfast table, where guests mixed easily while feasting on fruit, cereal and strong island coffee from the buffet, or ordered hot food off the menu. During breakfast each day, Turtle Island's master of ceremonies, Joe Naisali, who was Evanson's first employee at the age of 17 back in 1972, hauls out a huge chalkboard listing activities offered that day, from sailing to scuba diving to deep-sea fishing.

Sundays, Naisali encourages guests to accompany him to church at his home village on Matacawalevu island across the bay. The Methodist service is held in an airy wooden building with birds nesting in a crevice of the large wooden cross behind the pulpit. The experience is a treat no matter what one's religion, a chance to share an important ritual with people who smile warmly at guests whose fellowship they consider an honor.

For the most part, though, my husband and I concentrated on each other, savoring each indulgence with guilt-free abandon. Our last day, we capped off our sybaritism with the special "island massage" in our bure -- a symphony of fingers performed by two masseuses at once. With soft music playing and fragrant oils flowing, the female duo combined traditional Swedish strokes with Hawaiian lomi lomi massage movements.

That final night when thoughts of the real world ruffled our reverie, we popped open another bottle of champagne, revved up our Jacuzzi and drifted back to bliss in a mango-scented bubble bath.

If you go:

ACCOMMODATION: The nightly rate for two, including all food, alcoholic beverages and activities is $910US for regular bures, $1,047US for grand bures. One-hour massage costs $65US. Round-trip seaplane transfer from the Fijian capital of Nadi is $620US per couple. Turtle Island welcomes families for a few weeks each year. Vancouver is the gateway for most flights to Fiji from Canada. Call 1-800-255-4347.