by Tara Pammi
Anything she asked for, she had it in a few hours—like the state-of-the-art camcorder she had requested.
He even had Miguel watch over her when he was busy, and the little punk seized her laptop every day after an hour, as though she was on the clock.
It had taken a couple of days but she had gotten over her panic about her company. Her staff were experts at what they did; of course they could manage without her for a couple of weeks.
She should feel on top of the world. And she did in those split seconds when she could stop obsessing and let the tight leash she kept on herself go.
Her day, from dawn to dusk, was spent wondering why he didn’t kiss her again, what was stopping her from crawling into his bed—wherever it was that he slept. She was tired of waiting for him to make a move when all she wanted was to surround herself with him.
She wanted him, and she was pretty sure, from the way his hungry gaze ate her up, he wanted her. Tonight she would...
All her intentions disintegrated into dust when he walked onto the terrace. With his BFF in tow.
Jealousy burned like a blaze in her chest. She trembled from head to toe. The strength of it was feral. It pummeled her muscles into action and she got up in a sudden movement that made her lightheaded. She clutched at the wrought-iron railing.
Just the sight of him with Marissa was enough to burn a hole through her heart.
* * *
For the first time in over a week Kim had no appetite for dinner. Even though Anna had prepared everything the way Kim liked.
She smiled and nodded, answered with yes or no for the first half hour, pushing her food halfheartedly around on her plate. The other woman—or was she the other woman in this case?—was nothing but polite, inquiring after Kim’s health, how she was enjoying her stay on the island.
There was only so much Marissa could do to squelch the awkwardness while Kim stayed resolutely mute. But what could she say?
She felt such an influx of emotions—jealousy roped with guilt that she had destroyed this woman’s life with one single action, a hot rush of anger toward Diego for subjecting them all to this—she was literally stupefied into speechlessness.
Eventually Marissa switched to Portuguese, and Kim was almost grateful for the snub. She waited another ten minutes before she excused herself and fled back to the terrace.
Loneliness churned through her and she suddenly missed Liv with an ache. She needed her irrepressible twin so much right now. Because her life was in tatters if this was how being in love was going to feel.
A soaring high one minute and a gut-wrenching low the next.
* * *
It was early evening the next day when Diego found Kim walking along the beach, a couple of miles from the villa. He made a quick call.
This part of the island was even more untouched than the other side. Pristine white sands, turquoise waters—he loved this view. This island was the one thing he owned that gave him the utmost satisfaction and joy at what he had achieved in life.
It was a place with nothing but sky and acres of land around him. The one thing he had craved for so long. Somewhere that wasn’t a ditch to call his own. Now Miguel, and others like him, could enjoy the freedom that came from knowing their very lives didn’t depend on their ability to throw punches and fight dirty.
Not that he had ever stopped. Now it was just for different things.
Today the view didn’t hold his interest. And he had a feeling the quiet contentment he had felt over the past week or so had been more to do with the solitary figure half a mile in front of him than his success in purchasing the island that he had wanted for so long.
To break that spell he had brought Marissa. He could have caught up with her on his next trip to Rio. But he knew she’d wanted to see the island. And he was loath to change anything in his life just because Kim was in it now.
That was the only way to keep this in check. Only Kim had looked as if he had slapped her last night.
It had taken everything he’d had in him to not chase after her when she had left for the terrace halfway through dinner. Instead he had spent the evening with Marissa, going over the last few legalities. Even her update that visa issues were now taken care of for two more boys like Miguel hadn’t been enough to keep his mind from Kim.
And yet he had fought the pull.
He didn’t even have a clear idea why. As each day passed with her he had felt an increasing sense of uncertainty creeping into his thoughts. As to how much he enjoyed her company, how much he looked forward to seeing her in the morning, how much he enjoyed it when she pored over a financial report with him and came up with a solution in two minutes flat.
He had learned early on that anything that felt that good always came with a high price.
He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers and came to a standstill, watching her. Not his heart, though. It pounded extra hard in his chest.
The utter silence, punctured only by the ocean’s waves, cocooned them, weaving its own magic.
She stood barefoot in the sand, the ocean lapping at her feet.
Her slender back, skin glowing in the sun, was pure temptation marred only by two yellow strings tied at the neck and then down lower. His gaze followed the curve of her back to the dip. A sarong-style wrap hugged her pert behind. Her long legs were only visible again from her knees.
He released a shaky breath. He had purposely pulled himself back these past few days, held back through sheer will. He didn’t want to fall headlong into his desire for her again, to forget the right and wrong of the situation— forget himself.
He wanted the comfortable camaraderie they had slipped into to last. He wanted something stable for his children, and for the first time since she had told him that she was pregnant, for the first time on this island, he felt the goodness of what they had in his bones.
This felt right. This felt good. And he would do anything to keep it like that.
The line of her shoulders tightened infinitesimally. Her hands wrapped around herself and she stiffened, holding herself aloof from the world.
It was enough to burst the bubble of tranquility he had felt just a second ago. Tension curled his muscles and his mind geared up for whatever fight she was going to throw his way, his body exulting in the thrill shooting through his blood.
She turned and met his gaze.
He felt the intensity of her look as if she had run those long fingers over him. His muscles were flexing and rearing for her touch. Lust rocketed through him, tightening every muscle with fiery need.
Her lustrous hair slapped across her face. Her bikini top cupped her breasts just as he wanted to. He couldn’t deny they were looking rounder. She had put on some weight, was losing that gaunt, over-worked look. And she had that first blush of pregnancy he had overheard Anna mentioning to her.
It was in the slight flare of her hips, in the fullness of her breasts, in the healthy flush of her skin. Her stomach, though not yet round, was beginning to grow. He trailed his gaze over her, enjoying the sheer eroticism of looking at her.
She was the sexiest woman he had ever seen, and her innate modesty made her even more appealing. Even now she was oblivious to her effect on him, on his self-control, as her overactive mind whizzed through something.
“Do you miss being with her?”
Diego blinked. For a second he didn’t understand her question. “Droga, I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone for so long. You’re ripe for a fight, aren’t you?”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You are much more comfortable when we’re fighting, when you can peg me into whatever box you can. We have been laughing, generally enjoying each other’s company, for over a week now. So of course it’s time to draw the lines again.”
“I...I’m serious, Diego.”
He didn’t miss whatever it was he had once shared with Marissa. It had been a comfortable relationship they had both fallen into whenever something had gone wrong in their
lives—the one good thing that had stood firm despite every hardship they had faced.
He just wished he had realized sooner that it had meant so much more to Marissa than it had to him. What he felt for Kim—a crazy obsession that knew no right or wrong—he had never had with any other woman in life.
Nothing like the fizzle of anticipation roaring in his blood as she came closer, nor the tightening in his gut every time he thought he had finally reached the core of her and then she retreated behind her shell again.
She came to a halt right in front of him. Her scent teased his nostrils. Hot arousal was inching across his skin.
“You don’t have to spare my feelings. I can take it,” she said.
Curiosity blazed like a forest fire through him. “Does that mean it would hurt you if I said I do miss her?”
“Yes,” she replied, her mouth a tight line.
Was it downright sadistic of him to enjoy the fact that she could be hurt by his actions? That he had a hold over her, however tenuous?
“I couldn’t trust myself to not lose it right in front of her. That’s why I left. I will understand if you...want me to leave.”
He cursed—a filthy word his mother would have washed out his mouth for. “What the hell does that mean?” At her grating silence, he answered. “I don’t miss her.”
“Then why is she here? Who are you trying to punish by pushing us all together? Yourself or me?”
He frowned. “You want me to cut her out of my life? Tell her she has no part in it now that you are here? She’s the one person who has stood by me my whole life. Whether I was a success or a failure, whether I was being a sanctimonious bastard or not. What do you expect me to do? Tell her—?”
Kim shook her head, feeling sick to her stomach. She got it now. Marissa was the constant whereas Kim was the variable—the one who could disappear from his life any minute.
Maybe even the one he could leave behind when he didn’t want her anymore?
“I don’t know,” she said, her anxiety spilling into her words. “All I want to know is whether you’ll give this...us...a real chance or not.”
“And bringing a friend of mine here means I won’t?” He smiled. “Is this you being jealous, gatinha?”
Kim flinched. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I have no right to—”
He tugged her around. “Yes, you do. You have every right to ask me whatever you want to. You might not always like the answer. It could be worse than what you lose by keeping silent. Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Walk away silently.”
She tried to shy her gaze away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. Even last time on the island, when I said I was done with you, you didn’t utter a word. You should have called me a bastard right then. Instead you left without a word. You fight more for your company than you do for yourself.”
“If I don’t ask anything of you, don’t expect anything of you, you can’t hurt me.”
He shook his head. “It is never that simple.”
“It’s the only way to survive.”
“Who hurt you?”
She tried to turn away from him but he wouldn’t let her. This was not a conversation she wanted to have. “No one hurt me, Diego. However, you will be disgusted by the depths of selfishness I can fall to.”
His hands locking her in place, he looked into her eyes. “Nothing you do or have done will ever make me despise you. Make me angry, yes. Drive me crazy, yes... But disgust me...? No. Haven’t I showed you that already?”
“The night before my mother left I found her note.”
“A note?”
Every inch of her shook just remembering that night. “It was one line. Addressed to my father. She was leaving him and taking Liv with her.”
Leaving her behind.
She had gone to her mother’s room to check on her, to inform her of what her father had planned for the next day, to tell her that she had taken care of everything needed for a small party at their house.
Instead she had found a small bag sitting on the floor of the closet. It had contained her mother’s jewelry, cash, her passport and—the thing that had sent a shiver down Kim’s spine—Liv’s passport. For a frantic minute she had emptied the bag, looking for her own passport, her lungs constricting painfully.
It hadn’t been in that bag.
Wondering if her mother had made a mistake, her head reeling from what it meant, she had walked to the bed and found the note scribbled on her mother’s stationery.
It had been the worst moment in her life—sitting there, wondering what she had done wrong, how she could have acted any different, why her mother would choose to take Liv but not her...
Her vision blurred. The same confusion, the same utter desolation sprang inside her at the memory. The words she hadn’t dared to speak aloud, the thoughts that wouldn’t leave her alone even after all these years, the fears she hadn’t shared with another soul, poured out of her on a wave of uncontrollable pain.
“For as long as I can remember I did everything I could to shield her from my father. I always stayed strong for her. I stayed by her bed when she was ill. I never once asked her for anything, Diego. And in the end she—” her voice broke, her insides twisting into a mass of pain.
Diego’s rough palms on her cheeks, the familiarly comforting scent of him, pulled her out of the depths of despair. He forced her to look at him.
“Tell me you confronted her, Kim. Tell me you demanded to know why.”
“No. And I didn’t beg her to take me, too, if that’s what you want to hear.” Her throat felt as if pieces of glass were stuck in it. “I threatened to go to my father with the note if she went anywhere near Liv. I stayed awake by Liv’s side all night. And my mother...she...left sometime during the night. But you’re right. I am an unfeeling, selfish bitch.”
“You did nothing wrong.” His words were a frustrated growl.
“No? You see, I was determined to not let her rob the one person who loved me from my life. Except you know what...?”
His stomach churning with a vicious force, Diego watched Kim. She walked away from him, trembling from head to toe, her words vibrating with pain.
“Liv paid for it. With our mother gone, my father turned his corrosive, controlling attention to her.”
“You can’t blame yourself for that. You were a child.”
“He made her life miserable every single minute of every single day, Diego,” she said, her fists locked by her sides. “There—are you disgusted now?”
How could he hate her for surviving when he would have done the same? She’d lived her life with the cards she had been dealt and made no excuses for it.
She slipped from him before he could tell her how much he understood, how that kind of hurt never died down.
She could have hated Olivia after her mother left. But she had been strong for both of them, had tried to shield her from their father when she had been nothing more than a teenager herself. And she thought there was nothing in her that felt...
He tugged her closer and wrapped his hands around her. She didn’t relax immediately. He tightened his hold.
She smelled of the ocean and lemons and something undeniably her.
He stood holding her like that, running his fingers over her back. So many things rushed through him. Utter amazement at her strength robbed him of his ability to speak.
Walking away from her mother, from her father, from him—it was the only way she had survived.
A lump in his throat cut off his breath and he relaxed his hold on her.
Handling her was no different from handling a hurt teenager like Miguel, really. Miguel lashed out at the world in order to live through his pain, whereas Kim internalized everything to survive—pushed her own feelings and desires so deep inside she had pretty much cauterized herself against any hurt.
If his childhood had been hell, hers had been
no better. Just a different kind of hell.
“You remind me of Miguel,” he whispered, breathing her scent deep into his lungs.
She looked up at him, reluctance filling her gaze. “I don’t know what to make of that.”
“Whenever I see him in pain I want to hunt down everyone that’s hurt him. It’s the same way I feel right now. Instead of protecting you, your mother used you and Olivia as shields against her husband. She was not fit to be a mother. And I will throttle you if you compare yourself to her again.”
Tears glazed her eyes.
He moved his palm to her stomach and felt his heart kick inside his chest. “Except I’ve never wanted to kiss Miguel, as I want to do you, every waking minute.”
Kim blinked back the tears that prickled behind her eyes. His tenderness was unraveling her and she was terrified she would never be whole again, never be strong again.
Day by day, word by word, he had slowly peeled away all her armor. Her emotions were spilling and overflowing. It was both terrifying and exciting.
She shivered and scrunched closer to him. His arms were steel bands around her, his body a furnace of need and want. And for the first time in her life she felt wanted. As if her wishes mattered, as if she mattered. And not for her brains, for her accomplishments, but for the person she was beneath all that—scared and hurt and frozen.
She moved in his embrace and pressed her mouth to his chest. He rumbled beneath her touch.
“Come with me,” he whispered.
Her smaller hand encompassed by his, she let him tug her whichever way he wanted.
They walked for about five minutes, the sand crunching under their feet.
She came to a sudden halt, dragging Diego to a stop along with her. Dusk was beginning to streak the sky orange above them and a custom-made cabana, its dark oak gleaming in the fading sunlight, stood about two feet from them, big enough to accommodate two people.
And narrow enough to squish them together.
Pristine white cotton sheets covered the opening, contrasting richly against the dark oak. Heat uncurled low in her belly, her legs threatening to collapse under her.
