by Angela White
The area was cleared too quickly for both of them and they stopped reluctantly, neither of them moving away as sparks flew.
Kendle was lost. Even the sand in her shoes felt right. When he placed a light kiss on her jaw, she turned toward him, eyes still closed.
Moving slowly, the lonely Pilot slid his lips to the corner of her mouth for a chaste, erotic kiss that gave her chills of want, and drew a moan of frustration when he started to move back.
Luke felt the denial, her need, and tilted her head up, sealing their lips.
It was the sweetest kiss he’d ever had, one to remember a lifetime later and he leaned back to look at her dark blue eyes, thinking it shouldn’t go any further yet. Liquid pools of desire looked back and Luke forced himself away from her, putting the machete back in its case. Would she want that room in town now? A line had definitely been crossed.
Kendle could still feel his lips against hers, his hardness behind her as they moved together, and she went to the box of tools with a smile of pleasant discovery. It was what she’d been looking for since high school and she was a bit stunned that she had found it here and now, and without even looking.
She glanced up to see his sexy eyes watching her warily and she blushed, smiled. “Sorry. Guess I got carried away.”
“Me too, Darlin'. You’re safe here with me. It won’t happen again.”
Luke grinned at the protest in her eyes and saw her clamp down on her first response, giving him another smile instead.
“I know that. If I have to be stranded in paradise, I couldn’t have better company.”
They let it go, got back to the gardening, but it stayed on both their minds and Luke was very aware of how often her eyes were on him. She was young, innocent (despite being a star from California) and he would try to give her time to adjust to the new feelings before taking advantage of her…but time was running out.
He could feel it pulling them along, and he wanted to tell her what was in his heart but didn’t, still not sure of what response he might get.
3
Not one to wait, Fate stepped in. A few hours after their first embrace, they were forced to confront their future directly.
“Is Miss…Roberts about? I thought I’d take her on a tour of my estate.”
Luke clamped his jaw shut against his first thought: No, Jackass, not if she has any taste, and used a polite response instead. “Hang on, damn it.”
Spinning away, he slammed the door in the surprised son of a millionaire’s face, hard enough to rattle the frame. Luke longed to order the playboy off his property, but knew he couldn’t. All the island males had come sniffing around (Ethan Kraft the most determined) and though it was her decision to make, Luke couldn’t help the jealousy that filled his heart. His! She was his!
“Kendle! Company!” he shouted out the back door and her soft words made him grin, like her even more.
“I’m not here.”
Luke shook his head, not bothering to lower his voice. “Too late. Come say ‘Hi’ to Ethan.”
“Shit.”
Luke was laughing as she came to the door and stepped around him, muttering about people with more money than brains. He settled in his chair with a drink and a cigar, shamelessly turning off the record player to listen.
Kendle yanked the front door open with a frown and held it, not inviting him in and not stepping out. This was the fifth time he had “dropped by” in the last two weeks, becoming more and more frustrated that none of his power and money seemed to matter to her. He’d finally reached annoying.
“Hello, Ethan.”
He blinked at her tone and flashed a brilliant smile meant to blind so that she wouldn’t see his pale, green eyes crawl up her jeans, go over her chest, and finally make it to her face. “How lovely you look, Ms. Roberts. I’ve come to sweep you away for that tour I’ve been promising.”
She shook her head, held up dusty gloved hands, “I’m gardening. It’s slow work.” She hoped he would take the hint and frowned when the tall, curly blond, daddy’s-boy moved closer, eyes almost leering.
“I could help.”
“Do what? You ain’t no farmer,” Luke grunted from his chair in the corner.
Kendle flushed, hoping the snobbish fop hadn’t heard. “Thanks, but I already ran Luke off. It’s very relaxing.” Kendle looked over the tropical jungle that was alive with life, bushy leaves waving in the soft, warm breeze, and tried not to respond to his smug, patronizing tone.
“You should be resting. Let me take you to my estate on the bay. I’ll pamper you…show you what the red carpet treatment is.”
“And, probably every venereal disease known to mankind,” Luke muttered.
Kendle couldn’t stop the smile that mistakenly encouraged Ethan to begin telling her what he would “introduce” her to, like she were some backwards bush-baby he had to tame.
After a full minute, Kendle found herself getting angry. Didn’t he know who she was? She had once done a two week stretch in the South American jungles of Brazil after her plane crashed, and she’d photographed the entire event - turned it into an award-winning documentary.
“I’ve also got a rock-wall I’ll show you how to climb. It’s the biggest one the company ever made,” Ethan stated arrogantly.
Luke’s scornful voice echoed, loud and clear, “Yeah, forty grand for a wall when he could have climbed these hills for free. Bet daddy’s real proud.”
Ethan’s handsome face disappeared behind his scowl and Kendle turned beet red, embarrassed, but struggling not to laugh.
“You said you’re busy. I’ll come back another day.”
“Ethan, wait.” She stepped out, but left the door open. “I’m sorry. I know you want to be my...friend, but really, I just need a little more time to myself.”
Keeping his voice even, he answered, “I should think you would be eager to be with your own kind.”
Frowning at him, Kendle crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s that mean?”
The dandy’s green eyes were eager now, mean, and she suddenly wished she’d let him go away mad.
“It means normal people, Miss Roberts, not an old man who hid here from crimes he was never punished for. Be careful. You could be in danger.”
He left before she could think of a response. As she stepped back in and closed the door, Luke’s shuttered eyes met hers.
“He’s right. Not about you being in danger, but about my past. I did something awful that cost a lot of lives, and I was never charged, barely even investigated because of the scandal it would have caused. It was swept under the rug and I was sent to a different part of the world in a new unit.”
His voice was careful, expecting the worst, and Kendle nodded calmly, hating the Kraft heir just a little for the pain in LJ’s eyes. There was no comparison between the two men and she liked the fact that Ethan had backed down. It said she was safe with Luke, that he could handle things.
“I knew it was something like that. How terrible to have carried it so long. Alone.”
Surprised by her reaction, or lack of, he repeated his words, “He’s right. You should be with your own kind.”
Kendle sighed, shaking her head as she pulled off the dirty gloves. “You’re my kind. He just can’t understand how it is with us. He only wants me because I say no.”
Luke’s eyes darkened as tension invaded the room. “How is it with us, Kendle? Tell me, so we’ll both know.”
Face red and heart thumping, Kendle stared at the floor. “I don’t think we should do this yet.”
“Too soon?” he asked, trying to steal himself for her words of rejection, despite the kiss he couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Too awkward. It…may not be what you’re hoping for and I... I don’t want to hurt you.”
Luke smiled at her, voice sad. “You’d be surprised by how little I’d settle for.”
He let out a gentle sigh filled with resignation, as if he knew he wasn’t worthy and it broke her heart to see the
hurt lurking in his face.
“I understand. I’m content with our friendship.”
“Really?”
He bent down to place a soft kiss on her cheek that sent chills into her belly. “Yes. Anything more is up to you.”
Unsure where the future would take them, Kendle followed her heart. They would take what Fate gave them. “I know I don’t want any strings. I haven’t made plans for the future.”
“And you don’t have to. We’ll keep things like they are.”
Kendle shook her head, heart saying it would never be enough. Not now. “I’d like to try a little more.”
Luke’s breath caught in his chest at her words, “What do you mean by a little, Darlin’?”
She flushed at the grin. “I want you to follow your feelings, stop holding yourself back from me. I can handle it.”
“I hold back out of respect for you and your reputation,” he hedged, knowing it was really the stain on his soul and the feeling of worthlessness he wore like a cloak. “People will see it as wrong. I’m old enough to be your grandfather.”
Kendle's mind flashed to their embrace in the garden and she shook her head, telling him what the male inside had been longing to hear.
“I don’t care what they think. I don’t see you that way.”
His dark blue eyes seemed to light up and he moved forward slowly, eyes on hers. “How do you see me?”
Kendle smiled, face hot. “I see an attractive, resourceful man I’d like to know more… intimately. If you’re interested?”
Luke pulled her into his arms and this time, when their lips met, he let the man in him have control. He held her with a hand tangled in her short, dark curls and the other on her slender hip, keeping her close as his tongue tasted her.
He broke the kiss reluctantly and her lashes fluttered open, eyes full of hazy desire that made him grin. “I’m interested.”
He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and she smiled sexily. “How about another?”
Luke chuckled, body under tight control. “I’ll need an ice shower.”
Kendle slid her arms around his neck and pressed her soft woman’s curves against him. “No need. I’m not a tease.”
She kissed his lips softly, breath catching against his mouth when he slid a hand down her hip to her cheek. As he deepened the kiss, Kendle was swept away, tightening her grip around his neck.
The wind gusted against his hot skin and Luke held himself in check as he swelled, wanting to push against her like a horny teenager. He made himself pull back, move away from her hot, sweet embrace.
“We hafta slow down, Darlin’,” he said and put a little more distance between them. “This is one of those moments you can’t get back. You should be sure.”
“I am,” she protested, moving closer.
Luke forced himself to do the right thing. He lied. “I’m not.”
Kendle’s desire fell under an immediate wave of self-doubt. What was she doing? Acting like a whore came to mind and she turned away. “Yeah, okay.”
Embarrassed by her actions, she was gone a second later and he watched with regret in his eyes, sorry he’d hurt her, but sure it was happening too fast. He wouldn't be able to stand it if they made love and she was sorry when it was over.
Kendle was horrified by the way she’d thrown herself at him and couldn’t stop the hot tears. She told herself she had been treated worse by people she was related to, but the feeling of rejection was heavy in her gut as she went back to the garden.
“Stupid,” she muttered, wiping at her eyes,.“Red skin, no hair. No wonder he didn’t want me.”
“That’s not even close to true.”
Kendle jumped, but didn’t look up. “Don’t lie.”
“I’m not.”
She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her shirt, “Doesn’t matter. My fault for thinking I could have what I want and not consider how you feel. I put you on the spot and I apologize. I used to have better manners.”
“Don’t do that to yourself!” Luke stated sharply, moving toward her. “You did nothing wrong.”
She looked up, pretty blue eyes streaming with tears that the sun lit up like sparkling jewels as they rolled down her cheeks. “Then why don’t you want…”
“What? You think I don’t want to make love to you?”
Flushing scarlet, she didn’t answer. When she started to turn away, Luke pulled her back, forced her to meet his eyes. “I want you so much I dream about it,” he whispered, leaning close to slide his lips along her jaw.
“I want to be with you more than any woman I’ve ever known and the next time you invite me, I’ll do my best to love you the way you deserve.”
Luke kissed her damp cheek and moved back to the cabin, afraid he’d fallen in love with someone who would never be able to feel the same. It’ll be enough, his heart said. He would love her a lifetime's worth in the weeks or months that Fate let them have, her fears of the future groundless. Death was in the air. His…and the only time he wasn’t scared was when he was close to her.
Chapter Eighteen
March 29th, 2013
1
“You forget who I am! Never talk to me that way again!” José snarled, hand dipping toward his belt.
Dean’s dark eyes narrowed as he looked up from the muddy ground. The thin layer of grit was still keeping most of the sun from peeking though the windows and, without the glare, he had a perfect shot.
“Whoever did this might still be around. Listen to my brother, Josey, and shut up, or maybe your body will join that one by the burnt jeep. It is one of your hombres, yes?”
The school had obviously been the site of a battle. Blackened jeeps, fly-ridden Mexican corpses, puddles of drying blood, drag marks in the deep sand - and the front of the red brick building looked like a bomb had gone off. The stocky guerilla picked it all out through his binoculars. Seemingly concentrating on the scene in front of them, he stored the insults, thinking one day, when he was in charge, these two negro hermanos would be muerto.
Dean seemed to sense the thought and snorted, “You’d better bring help, Josey.” Mounting his solid black horse awkwardly, he silently cursed the wound which had healed, but left nerve damage that prevented the smooth control he used to have over his leg.
At the second intentional slur of his name, the scarred Mexican considered trying anyway.
Dean saw it in his slanted eyes, and he grinned at Cesar’s ugly cousin. “Don’t miss.”
It was a long moment between them, and Dillan reluctantly distracted his brother. They needed Cesar. Killing his reckless second in command wouldn’t help. “Fresh tracks. Not ours.”
Dillan stood up from his perusal of the hard ground and Dean continued to eye the Mexican who abruptly turned his back to them. He was pretending to watch mutated ants the size of an infant’s shoe, climb in and out of a huge, two-foot high hill of dirt, but both brothers knew he was really like a coiled snake, waiting for the right moment to strike. If he could conquer his carelessness, José might eventually gain the deadly air his cousin carried, but for now they weren’t impressed.
“They were overpowered?” José asked, lighting a thick cigar with hands that were steadier than the brothers expected.
Dean realized Dillan had been right to stop him. For now. “If they had won, they would have maybe stayed, held your men as hostages. They fled,” Dean stated curtly, annoyed they had to ally themselves with such amateurs. Cesar was the only real threat; the only reason José was still drawing breath.
“They had help. Casings are from 9 millimeters.” José’s plump, scarred face screwed up in anger as cigar smoke swirled in the gusting wind.
“Safe Haven,” Dean stated flatly, sliding his coat back to finger the sniper rifle on his pommel. His rage towards the Witch grew as he watched his brother swing up onto his horse and wince. The painful pressure on his mangled wrist was too much to hide.
“Only group we know of organized enough to use those and do this.
Go tell Cesar to make camp here. Last call said he’s three hours out,” Dillan ordered, knowing the Slavers were still finishing up with stragglers in Wellington who had barricaded themselves in. Rick had been sent to take care of it. “And tell him we’ll track them, find out where they’re camped.”
Hand holding the dirty white sombrero on as the wind gusted sharply, the Mexican spun away angrily, and the twins rode off in a cloud of dust purposely kicked up to insult him further. When he was in charge, these two were dead and he would do it himself!
2
“Who has done this?” Cesar shouted furiously, brown face red with anger.
The dozen men in the gymnasium with him looked at the filthy, bloody floor and the bodies of their men, instead of meeting his eyes. They were glad when José hurried in.
José was Cesar’s right-hand man, the scarred guerrilla the only one to speak his mind when choosing time had come, but all the men knew the Kelly twins (when they were here) were really second, and everyone else was behind them.
“Safe Haven. The twins are tracking.”
“I want them dead!” Cesar screamed in frustration, stomping down a long, dim hall that should be full of bound slaves, but held only dust and cobwebs.
“I will get el los solsados ready to attack.”
Cesar didn't slow, and José hurried to catch up, eyeing the gold-handled pistols in the Slaver’s crisscrossed gun belts. Was this the moment?
“No.”
“But now, while they don’t...”
“No,” Cesar lowered his voice, reluctantly confiding. “They have a powerful weapon. We will send in el traidor to take care of it.”
“What kind of...”
Cesar scowled, shaking his tightly-kinked curls. Would the young never learn? “Not here.”
He used his deformed hand to open a door marked Office and the two Mexicans stopped short, coming face to face with a tall, blonde woman wearing a long, unbuttoned brown trench coat.
They saw stunning blue eyes full of hatred, and then she darted between them. Even limping, she was halfway down the hall decorated with Christmas pictures before they reacted. The two men gave chase, words a mix of English and Spanish.
