And Babies Make Four (16 page)

I love you
, whispered her heart.

She swallowed and brushed away sudden, stinging tears. Desperate for balance, she tried to lift her spirits by singing a favorite song, but the shaky notes only seemed to add to her hopelessness. She wasn’t used to such heightened emotion, either love or despair, and for days she’d swung like a crazy pendulum between the two extremes.

Sam’s patronizing dismissal of her “dream” was only the tip of a very large iceberg—for days they’d gone at each other like a couple of junkyard dogs. Truthfully, she knew that she was just as much to blame as he was for the fights, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Insult built on insult, creating a fortress between them as high and unbreachable as the towering mountains that ringed the valley. The storm winds of emotion tore her apart, and the most damning part of all was that somewhere behind the fierce, unforgiving mask he wore, she knew that Sam was hurting, too.

She buried her face in the towel, ruthlessly rubbing the water and tears from her cheeks. In a few days she’d be gone from this diabolical paradise, back to her sensible life, her fulfilling job, her undemanding relationships. It might take her a warehouse full of tissues and a lifetime of therapy, but she’d get over Sam Donovan.
Right about the time that hell freezes over
—

Once again she heard a sound behind her. Grimacing, she turned, expecting to see the hawk claim another victim. But it wasn’t a hawk. A man stood in
the muted shadows of the châtaignier trees, tall and ominously silent, like a ghost of one of the ancient gods. Noel gasped, wrapping the towel around her like the last of her tattered pride. Sam!

“How dare you? How dare …” she began, but her protests died as he stepped forward, his eyes capturing hers. His blue gaze absorbed her, dragging her down in a whirlpool deeper and more deadly than any ocean riptide. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t even breathe. She pressed her fist into her stomach, feeling as if she’d explode if she removed it.

His gaze dropped to her lips, then down her neck, caressing her body with a bold intimacy that turned her knees to Jell-O. Passion sizzled through her like a lighted fuse. She licked her suddenly dry lips, sensing his desire, the savage hunger as old as time. And beneath her prim veneer, ancient, wanton appetites began to burn.

A hot blush that had nothing to do with embarrassment crept up her throat and cheeks.
I can’t want this. I can’t need this. He’ll destroy me
.

“Leave me alone.” Her determined words came out as barely a whisper.

“I … can’t,” he answered, his rough voice barely louder than hers. “I followed you.”

A crazy hope swelled in her heart. He’d followed her. In spite of his anger, in spite of the damage they’d done to one another, he’d followed her here.…

Run
, her inner voice screamed.
Get away before it’s too late
. But she was paralyzed, rooted in place like one
of the giant trees around her. His gaze locked on hers, gripping her as ruthlessly as the chicken hawk had fastened on its helpless prey. But it wasn’t just his desire that held her—it was the shadowed pain in his eyes, the haunting sadness that made her own heart ache. Beneath the mask of the granite jaw and the storm-dark brow was a man who still bore the scars of his past, just as she did. Beneath the angry mask was the tough, tender man who’d won the hearts of the islanders, and hers.…

“I followed you, because … damn!” He took a ragged breath, then dragged his gaze from hers. Turning away, he rammed his fingers through his hair in a gesture of supreme frustration. “Einstein told me you’d come up here, and I followed because I thought you might be hurt or lost. He didn’t tell me you were … well, he didn’t tell me. Anyway, you shouldn’t have left camp without telling me. I was hired to protect you. It’s my job.”

Was that all she meant to him?
His job?
Bitter despair rose in her throat, nearly choking her. What she’d said … what she’d almost done! She turned and took a stumbling step toward the bushes, desperate to escape the killing disappointment. “Go away. I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t.” He moved toward her. “You’re shaking. You might have been bitten, or—”

“I’m fine!” she cried, her anger rising. “Or I will be as soon as you leave.”

She turned and headed for the bushes. She got
two steps before he caught her from behind, spinning her around to face him.

“Let go of me!”

“Not until you hear me out,” he ordered, his grip tightening like a vise. “I came up here because I was worried about you. No matter what it looks like, I wasn’t spying on you. I wouldn’t hurt you like that.”

“Not hurt …?” she sputtered in disbelief. All he’d done for the past few days was hurt her! “What’s the matter? Afraid Sheffield will dock your pay if I don’t give you a good report?”

“I don’t care about the damn money,” he roared.

“Then what do you care about?” she fired back “What the hell do you care about?”

He stared at her, his furious blue eyes piercing straight to her soul. She raised her chin defiantly, wrapping herself in the brittle iciness that had protected her in the past, bracing herself for any insult or blow he dealt her.
I can take it. I can take anything he does to me
.

She was wrong.

“Hell,” he growled, pulling her to him in a crushing embrace.

His mouth descended on hers like an avenging fury, plundering hers with a savage ruthlessness that left her weak and breathless. Stunned, she clung to him, too shocked to fight and too weak to stand. Her unbreachable wall melted as he stroked his hand down her towel-clad back, pressing erotically into the sensitive hollow at the base. A sweet burst of physical longing saturated her senses, searing her from the inside
out. And dimly, in some still functioning part of her mind, she realized why he’d been avoiding her, why he’d done everything in his power to drive her away.…

He lifted his head, his breath coming out in staccato bursts. “Fight me, Noel,” he rasped, his voice a plea. “Hit me, kick me, do something to stop me.”

“No,” she said softly. “Not until you tell me what’s eating you up inside.”

He shook his head. “There’s nothing—”

“Don’t lie!” She gripped his shoulders and raised herself on tiptoes so she could almost meet him eye to eye. “Please, Sam. I know there’s something inside you that’s killing you by inches. I can’t stand to see you like this. I can’t take it—” Her composure broke, torn apart by the force of her despair and her love. She bit her lip, fighting for control, her shaking voice echoing the violence inside her. “Please, if you care about me at all, tell me.”

“If I care—?” He captured her face between his hands and devoured her with a caress that claimed her completely, heart and soul.

She felt herself spinning down, falling uncontrollably into the eye of the hurricane, all but destroyed by her own raging needs.
I’ll take what he can give me, even if it is just passion, not truth
. But as they sank to the ground and he moved over her, she heard the small, still-lucid voice in her mind whisper that this wasn’t enough, not for him. “Please,” she breathed so softly that she could barely hear herself. “Please, tell me. Let me help.…”

He froze, then raised himself on his elbows and stared down at her. His gaze wandered over her towel-clad body with a slow, almost desperate thoroughness, as if he were memorizing it for the last time. Then he rolled off her and sat with his back to her, his shoulders hunched in misery as he ripped up a hank of grass. “Save your compassion for someone who deserves it,” he said bitterly. “I’m no better than a murderer. I killed my sister.”

Every muscle in his body drew tight, like a suit of protecting armor. He waited for the horrified gasp. He waited for the explosion of shock, anger, disgust, loathing.…

Frowning, he glanced cautiously over his shoulder, wondering if somehow the hellish confession that was carved in fiery letters on his heart had missed making it to his lips. She’d scooted to a sitting position, her long legs drawn up under the towel’s edge in an absurd attempt at decorum. A sweetness he’d never known exploded inside him.
Don’t care. It’ll just hurt worse when she rejects you
—

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” she remarked.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he sputtered, wondering if his confession had thrown her into shock. “She’s dead, and I’m responsible.”

“So you said.” Noel looked down, calmly smoothing the hem of her towel over her feet. “How’d you do it? Knife? Poison? Really bad takeout?”

“This is serious!” He gripped her chin, forcing her to face him. “Gina’s dead because of me.”

He expected to see hatred in her gaze, a mirror of the way he felt about himself. Instead, her wide green eyes gazed at him with the curiosity and trust of a child. “I’m sorry your sister died, but I know you didn’t kill her. I don’t believe you’re a murderer.”

“Believe it.” He turned away, rooting up another fistful of grass. “Gina was two years younger than me. We were really close growing up—until we were placed in separate foster homes. We were all each other had. Anyway, we kept in touch while I was in the service, and when I got back we started a software security business together.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Uncle Gus once told me that too much money was worse than none at all. I found out he was right. My company took off like a rocket. Suddenly I was invited to all the high-society parties and galas—me, the scruffy kid from the wrong side of the tracks. I enjoyed watching those stuffed shirts fall over themselves to please me, and the money. I started making more money than I’d ever dreamed of. It was like a drug, and I was an addict. Maybe it was because I’d never had any before. I don’t know.”

“And Gina?” Noel asked softly.

He ran his hand over his face, feeling much older than his thirty-five years. “She saw what was happening and tried to talk with me, but I wouldn’t listen. Finally, it got too much even for her. She said she
wanted out. And I—God forgive me—I was almost glad to be rid of her.

“There was one last deal I wanted before our partnership would be terminated. I needed her signature on a contract. The guy was going to be in town only one night, so I found out where he was staying and dragged Gina over there. It was a horrible rain-slick night, and every radio broadcaster said to stay off the roads. Then on the way home there was this drunk driver.…”

He winced, reliving the horror of the crash, and the terrible aftermath. “She died in my arms, cursing me. All because I wanted her signature, her damn, stupid signature.”

“But she was out of her mind with pain—” Noel began.

“That’s not the point!” He bolted to his feet. “She was the one person who really cared about me, and I treated her worse than anyone. I let the business go to hell after she died. But giving up the money wasn’t enough. I betrayed someone who loved me, who trusted me. She was right to curse me.” He leaned his forehead against a tree, slamming his fist into the unyielding trunk. “I didn’t deserve her love. I don’t deserve anyone’s love.”

He stood in the middle of paradise, but in his heart he was back at the accident, trying to shield his lifeless sister’s body from the cold rain as the ambulances came screaming down the road. Too late, he thought bitterly. It was always too late. Too late to swerve from the drunk driver’s path. Too late to find
forgetfulness on a tropical island. Too late to look for understanding in a pair of sea-green eyes—

“Sam, I’m afraid it’s too late.”

He whirled around, shocked that she’d apparently read his mind. “What did you say?”

“I said it’s too late,” she repeated, rising to her feet, “because you’re already loved. The people who call you Jolly-mon love you. Papa Guinea who gave you that name loves you. The little girl who brought me the sugar water loves you. This whole island is stuffed with people who love you.” She glanced down, fidgeting with the edge of her towel. “And I think that, wherever she is, Gina loves you, too. She wouldn’t want you to waste your life mourning her.”

“How do you know?”

“Because we’ve got a lot in common. I love you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

She gave a strangled laugh, and made a brave, unsuccessful attempt to smile. “I’ve spent the better part of my life doing what I
should
do, what I
ought
to do. Frankly, I’m sick of it. For once in my life I’m going to trust my instincts. And my heart.”

Once again she attempted a courageous smile, this time with even less success than before. The crooked, uncertain expression struck straight to his soul. “Noel—”

“No, let me finish.” She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. “We’ve both spent years locking away the pain in our lives, pretending we don’t feel it. But the pain doesn’t go away—it just gets worse. So you don’t let yourself feel anything. And pretty soon
you’ve built up years and years of not feeling anything, even being alive. You just drift through life like a ghost—a pale, cold ghost.” She raised her head, her eyes bright with tears. “I’ve been a ghost for so long, Sam. I don’t know how to stop.…”

Storms and hurricanes he could fight. Tidal waves he had a chance against. But Noel’s tears? He didn’t have a prayer. In two steps he was beside her, folding her trembling form in his arms as if she was the most precious thing in the world. “Just cry it out, honey,” he told her, smoothing her dark silk hair. “Let it go.”

She did. She burrowed against his chest, crying great, wracking sobs that rocked her entire body. The stiff, controlled woman was gone, shattered by the magnitude of the sorrow stored up inside her. She poured out her pent-up emotions, clinging to him like a lifeline. He said nothing—just held her and stroked her hair, waiting for the storm to pass. And somehow through the violence of her release, he felt the suffocating cloud of grief begin to lift from his own shoulders.

At last her sobs dissipated into a series of soggy sniffles. “I’m sorry.” She wiped the dampness from her cheeks. “I guess I look awful.”

“Pretty much,” he agreed ungallantly.

She gave a choked sound that was endearingly close to laughter. “You could have lied.”