Hawaiian Holiday: Destination Desire, Book 2

by Crystal Jordan

  “Tonight? Of course.” His grin was lopsided. “Maybe it’s presumptuous, but I assumed we would be dining together.”

  “No, I meant…” She smiled nervously, played with the bristles on her brush. “I meant dinner when we get back to California.”

  He jerked as if she’d slapped him. For one heart-stopping moment, he wanted to say yes. To take what she offered and never look back, escape the past and all its doubts forever. But he couldn’t. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I—I thought you understood this was just for the week.”

  Her gaze dropped to the countertop, but not before he caught the gleam of tears in her eyes. An awful, crushing weight slammed down on his chest and he felt as if he were drowning.

  Her lips trembled, but she didn’t turn to face him. “Things have been so good between us. I thought…I hoped you felt the same way.”

  “Julie…” His fingertips brushed the back of her shoulder. He needed to touch her so badly he ached with it, wanted to draw her into his arms and try to soothe her pain. But he was the cause of that pain, and he had no right to offer comfort.

  She closed her eyes. “Maybe you should go now.”

  “Julie, please. Try to understand.” But how could she, when he’d never really told her anything about his marriage? Just that it was bad. A lot of people had bad marriages, including one of her friends. But there was bad and there was bad.

  She set her brush on the counter with slow, deliberate movements. “Why?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’ve spent a week with me, and we’ve had a great time. You’re too smart a man not to realize that we’re good together, in and out of bed. We fit. That doesn’t come along every day.” She turned around to look at him, defiance and hurt molding her expression. “So why would a date be such a bad idea? It’s not like I’m saying we should get married, I’m just talking about dinner back in the real world. It shouldn’t be a big deal, but apparently it is. I want to understand, like you said. I want to know why you won’t at least consider the possibility of continuing the awesome thing we have going here.”

  “My divorce…” How the hell did he say this? He’s never told anyone about Lilith. Her family knew what had happened because they’d been there, but no one else. He didn’t even know how to put it all into words.

  “A lot of people have relationships after they divorce, Lukas.” She shrugged. “Many of them even remarry.”

  He blew out a breath. “I know, but…I don’t think I could ever be one of them. I promised myself I would never go through anything like that again. That meant never getting into a solid relationship again, never going down a path that might even hint at the possibility of marriage.” He swallowed, trying to gather enough spit in his mouth to force out what he needed to say. “I know it sounds extreme, but my marriage was extreme, at least in the end. My ex-wife—Lilith—was not…stable.”

  Her tone was just as hesitant as his had been. “She had…mental problems?”

  He nodded, wrapping the towel around his waist. He didn’t want to have this conversation naked. He already felt stripped bare as it was. “When we first got together, she was on the controlling side. She liked every little detail to be perfect. I understood that, since I like things just so myself.”

  Two strides took him out of the bathroom, and Julie followed him. But once he was in the bedroom he didn’t know what to do with himself. Sit on the bed where Julie and he had made love so many times? No.

  Julie slid on a nightgown and flopped down on the floor, her back against the bed. “But she got worse?”

  He sat down beside her, gripping the towel tight so it wouldn’t slip. “It became unhealthy. I managed to dismiss and ignore it for several years.” He flashed a bitter, self-deprecating smile. “Hindsight is 20/20, right? It got to the point where I couldn’t ignore it when I came home from a summer research trip and she’d found a spider in the kitchen cupboard, decided that meant the room was ‘dirty,’ put all the dishes in garbage bags in the middle of the floor and demolished the cabinets.”

  Confusion clouded her features. “Like…called in a contractor to redo the kitchen because of a bug?”

  He snorted. As if anything had been so simple with Lilith. “I wish. When I got home, there was nothing but a sledgehammer resting against the wall where the cabinets used to be. She’d spent the summer eating take-out and had no idea why I was upset when I confronted her about the fact that we had no kitchen.” He shook his head. “When I suggested that she might want to talk to a psychologist, she claimed that nothing was wrong. What she’d done was perfectly reasonable.”

  Julie shifted around to face him, her eyes round. “And she was serious?”

  “Very.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t want to relive it all, but Julie deserved to know why he couldn’t be with her. He wanted to—God, he wanted to—but he couldn’t.

  “Then what happened?”

  “Things went downhill from there. The more I insisted that she needed help, the more she decided that I was the problem. Every time I pointed out something that she did or said was more extreme than the situation warranted, she just got more stubborn about her way being the only right way. I even tried to get her parents to stage an intervention. That was a spectacular failure.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. His stomach churned, and his body tightened as the memories assaulted him. He’d been sure they’d have a good life together when he’d married Lilith and he’d been so wrong. How long had he lived with a crazy woman before he’d even noticed? “Our fights got uglier, as you can imagine. Soon everything was ‘dirty,’ including sex and anything that had to do with me. On the next trip I took—only a few days for a conference that time—I came home and our bed was gone. In its place were two twin size beds.”

  “Because you were too dirty to even share a mattress with.” Julie’s hand closed around his wrist, and he could feel the tremor in her fingers. Or maybe that was him shaking. “Oh, Lukas. I’m so…oh my God.”

  He looked at her, his voice dropping to an agonized whisper. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have someone you love think you’re disgusting? That touching you makes them unclean? That you’re no better than a disease?”

  A little sob escaped her and she clamped her free hand over her mouth.

  “After that, I asked for a divorce.” He shrugged helplessly. “Living with her had become impossible, and I couldn’t force her to seek help.”

  The sad thing was…he’d still loved her, still cared, still hoped she’d get better. There was that awful word again: hope. Bitter bile burned at his throat. Back then, he would have done anything she needed if she’d just been willing to work on the problem. Because that was what a husband was supposed to do. Be strong and supportive. He’d tried and he’d failed.

  Julie scooted a little closer to him. “The day we met, you said the divorce was ugly.”

  “Oh, ugly is far too pleasant a word for our breakup.” That was when the love had died and been replaced with something far less kind. He didn’t think it had gone as far as hate, but loathing definitely came into the picture. “She moved out of the house, but came back while I was at work and stole things that my parents gave me, just for spite. The stuff wasn’t worth anything except sentimental value, but she took it to get back at me for wanting a divorce. Then she argued over every single thing in the settlement because she didn’t want me to have anything. Dirty people don’t deserve to be treated fairly, or so she told me.”

  “Jesus,” Julie whispered. “Did she ever get help?”

  His smile was humorless. “About a year after everything was finalized, I found a box of her family’s old photo albums, so I called her parents to see if they wanted them back. They thanked me and said yes. Her father told me that Lilith had been admitted to a mental institution by her doctor.”

  She made a startled little sound. “Wow.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. A headache began hammeri
ng at his temples, the weight on his chest growing heavier by the second. “That was the last I’d heard of her, until her email this morning. I’d really hoped never to hear from her again.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Julie slid her arms around him and burrowed against his chest. “I’m so sorry, Lukas.”

  He held her tight and felt tears burn the backs of his eyes. For the innocence Lilith had ripped away from him, and for what he was about to lose with Julie. “So…the idea of dealing with another relationship is…I can’t do it, mein Liebling. I swore to myself I wouldn’t do that again. It’s emotional suicide.”

  “I would never—”

  He pressed a palm to the back of her skull. “Lilith would have said the same thing when we first got together. I know that you’re not like her, but what happened with her left way too many scars for me to risk it. I don’t know how to trust a woman anymore. Hell, I don’t know how to trust my own judgment when it comes to choosing a woman. So I’m not going to. I’m sorry.” He squeezed her closer. “If it helps at all, in the five years since my divorce, you are the only woman who’s made me second guess my decision never to get into a relationship again.”

  “It does help, and it doesn’t.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I wish…” He sighed, shook his head. “Wishing is pointless. I never meant to hurt you. That would be the very last thing I ever wanted.”

  “I wish too.” A smothered little whimper burst from her, and he felt her tears splash against his chest.

  If there was one thing this week with Julie had showed him without any doubts, it was that not all women he was attracted to were like Lilith. He’d worried about that for a long time. But Julie was sweet and easygoing and not at all controlling or controlled. Unfortunately, he was still the same man he had been when they’d met. He was still cynical about love and relationships and knew that getting into one would be a mistake. He could tell himself that going out a few times in California wouldn’t hurt anything, but it would be a lie. He was already in over his head with her. The only thing saving him was the fact that their affair would be over when they left the island.

  The problem was, Julie was not only the first woman to make him second guess his no-relationship policy—she was also the first woman to ever make him wish he were a different kind of man. Sure, he’d wished many times that his marriage hadn’t gone south, that he’d never married or even met his ex, but he was a practical soul. The past couldn’t be changed. He had to live with his mistakes. He’d looked at his situation, his history, and made the very practical decision that relationships were a risk he should never take again. He just wished he had never had to make that decision. He wished he were the kind of man who could claim a woman like Julie for his own and know that it would be fine in the end, but he’d felt that way before and look where it had gotten him.

  No. He couldn’t do it. He’d barely survived the last time; he wouldn’t be able to do it again. Not even for Julie.

  He was who he was. Nothing had changed. He just wished things were different.

  He lifted her hand, pressed a lingering kiss to the back of it, then shoved his fingers into her hair and forced her head back so he could slant his mouth over hers. It was wild and desperate and tasted like goodbye. She sobbed against his lips, clutching him tight. Their tongues tangled, the kiss so fierce he tasted blood. Hers or his, he wasn’t sure and he didn’t care.

  After tearing her mouth from his, she whispered, “Don’t leave yet. Stay a little longer.”

  He nodded, recapturing her lips.

  Julie couldn’t stop the tears from falling. She cried for him and what he’d survived, and for herself. She kissed him harder, wanting to absorb him into her skin. Nothing had ever felt so right or hurt so much. There was no changing his mind, no talking a man who’d been shackled to a madwoman into giving love another chance. In his place, she couldn’t say that she wouldn’t have made the same choice he had. But that didn’t make her soul ache any less.

  All she had left was tonight, and she was going to wring every last sensation she could out of it. His arms held her almost too tight. But he eased the pressure of his mouth on hers. His lips played over hers—a soft, gentle caress in direct contrast to his ironclad embrace. Somehow that made it all the more erotic and her insides melted. Her nipples beaded, thrusting into his chest.

  He tumbled her back on the carpet, and she snapped her legs around his flanks, unwilling to allow even the slightest space to come between them. The nubby fabric of his towel stimulated her flesh. “Inside me. Please, I want you inside me.”

  “I need a condom.” He looked around, then reached out to grab his discarded pants. He pushed himself up to kneel between her spread thighs. Ripping open the square foil packet, he let the towel drop.

  She drank in the sight of him, rough satin skin over steely musculature. He was so strong on so many levels—stronger than even he realized, she thought. It made her love him all the more, even though it shattered her heart. She held her arms open for him after he slid the condom on, and he came down on her, pressing his dick deep into her sex. She was still damp and soft from their last round of lovemaking, and he slid within her easily.

  Propping himself on his elbows above her, he locked his gaze with hers, and she watched the conflicting emotions flash across his face. She saw the passion and the pain and a hundred other things she couldn’t identify. Their bodies moved together as if they’d been made to fit each other, arch and twist, thrust and grind, every breath, every touch in complete sync.

  He shifted his weight to the left, and drifted his right hand up her ribs until he could cup her breast. His fingers plucked at the tip, sending tingles radiating through her.

  “I love your hands on me.” She tried to smile at him, but the attempt crumpled before it could form. Her vision grew blurry, and she blinked the moisture away so she could see him, so she didn’t miss anything.

  His hips undulated and he changed angle. The head of his cock hit just the right spot within her, which took her from slow burn to flash fire in seconds. Orgasm caught her by surprise, slamming into her. A cry ripped from her throat and she clutched him closer, holding onto him like a lifeline. Tears slid unchecked down her cheeks, and she rocked her body against his, wanting to draw this out. One, two, three more thrusts and he groaned, shuddering against her as he reached his own climax.

  He crashed down on top of her and she hugged him. His weight on her was so sweet, something she’d never feel again. It was too soon, far too soon, when he sighed and shifted backward, sliding free of her body and leaving her utterly empty.

  “I’ll be back.” He went to the bathroom and, after a minute, she heard the toilet flush. When he came out, he sat on the edge of the mattress.

  He looked at her and she looked at him. Neither of them said a word. What was left to be said? Nothing would change his mind, and nothing changed the fact that they were fourteen hours away from getting on different airplanes.

  She pushed herself up and maneuvered until she sat beside him, her head pressed to his shoulder. Holding on to him felt like trying to tighten her grip on sand. He just slipped through her fingers faster. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, and she realized if this was the end, she had one thing left she had to say to him, or she’d regret it forever.

  “I love you, Lukas.”

  “Julie.” Her name was almost a sob on his lips. “Please…don’t. You’re killing me.”

  She nodded, pressing her trembling lips together. “I’m sorry. I just had to tell you while I still had the chance.”

  His big body shook, his hands clenching into fists. “I can’t be in a relationship with you.”

  “Too late.” She kissed his cheek, then whispered in his ear, “You’re already in one. You just can’t admit it, and I love you anyway.” The hairs at the nape of his neck ruffled as her breath rushed out in a hitching little laugh. He leaned into her as if he craved her touch, but he didn’t reach for her,
didn’t try to hold her. He was letting her go, and there was nothing she could do about it. If her love wasn’t enough, nothing would be. It sucked so fucking bad. “Goodbye, Lukas. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, but I can’t regret the amazing, wonderful man you are. I hope someday you find someone who makes you toss that no-relationship rule out the window. I just wish it could have been me.”

  With that, she rose and walked into the bathroom. She heard the hotel room door open and close, and knew he was gone. She pressed her back to the wall and slid down in a heap on the cool tile floor. Drawing her legs up, she sobbed against her knees, letting all the pain and hurt out.

  That was it. Done. Over.

  She’d loved every minute she’d spent with him. Even with the mudslide down the volcano, the popped tire and the bad traffic. Shit happened, but nothing had put a damper on this vacation. She’d come looking for peace, for closure, and she’d found that, but she’d found so much more. Love. Not fleeting, vacation infatuation either, but the real kind that she thought could last. Maybe a lifetime.

  But the problem with love was that if it wasn’t reciprocated, it wasn’t worth much. Just a boatload of heartache. She’d lost so much already, she wasn’t sure how she was going to survive this. Not that she had a choice. That was the thing about losing people you loved—it just happened, no matter what you wanted or how you might fight against it.

  They were just gone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Julie had thought losing her Auntie Eloise had been bad, but it was nothing to losing Lukas. Eloise had been taken by death, but Lukas was still alive and well and less than an hour away. But she still couldn’t have him in her life. She’d been home for two weeks and she’d just been going through the motions. It was easier to be at Purl Moon than it had been before she’d left—the time away had given her the perspective she needed to get a handle on her grief. Mission accomplished, but she still felt like crap. Her heart ached in her chest, just for an entirely different reason this time.