Miles

by Ava Benton

  I looked down at my right side. My arm and leg were both in a cast.

  He grimaced. “Yes. You did quite a lot of damage to yourself, I’m afraid—or, rather, whatever it was you hit did a lot of damage. You had pretty serious breaks in your arm and leg.”

  I remembered hitting something, in fact, not long after falling over the edge. That was when everything had gone black, come to think of it. I struggled to come up with a way to ask him what had happened after that without saying a word. The longer he thought I was mute, the better.

  As it turned out, I didn’t need to speak.

  “You must wonder why you’re here and not on the other side by now. Isn’t that right?”

  I blushed, looking away for fear of the tears which I was pretty sure might start flowing.

  “I’m sorry,” he stammered, getting up and going to the French doors. He balled up his fists and jammed them into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m not well-versed in speaking to women, especially strangers. I’ve lived with my family my entire life, and we’re rather removed from the rest of the world. If I’m terribly clumsy, I want you to know that I mean no harm or ill will.”

  When he looked back, over his shoulder, my heart went out to him.

  He really was as clumsy as he professed.

  Probably the only way a man like him could ever be clumsy.

  I found it difficult to imagine him being out of control in any other situation.

  “Do you accept my apology?” he asked.

  I nodded. What other choice did I have?

  He visibly relaxed. “I wanted to put your mind at ease, is all. You managed to miss the rocks at the base of the cliff. I’d been swimming and happened to see you up there, before you… fell.” He cleared his throat, obviously trying to be kind. He knew the truth as well as I did. “I swam over. You were floating on your back, completely unconscious, bleeding pretty badly.”

  It made sense, I supposed, though it would be just my luck to avoid hitting the rocks. Imagine if I had woken up in the water, I thought with dismay. Drowning out there, alone, would’ve been a pretty terrible death. He’d saved me from that.

  I stared at him, willing him to understand how grateful I was. Granted, there was no way of knowing how the rest of my life would turn out, and I might very well end up wishing he’d let me die, but he didn’t have to save me. Even if the entire purpose of my still being alive was to learn that there were truly good, giving people in the world, it would be worth it.

  He came back to me, moving slowly. A little tentative. “If you’re up to it, I could take you for a walk around the grounds tomorrow. There’s a wheelchair we could use. I’m sure you’d like to get out of here for a little while—and the surgeon recommended you get up and around, if possible.”

  I nodded, smiling. So long as it was him, I would go anywhere. My hero, my rescuer. I imagined him holding me in his arms as he swam back to shore.

  He had to be just as strong as he looked, if not more so, to manage something like that. It was dangerous to put him up on a pedestal, and I knew it, but it couldn’t be helped.

  A series of lines appeared between his eyebrows when he frowned. “Do you think there are people looking for you?”

  Just like that, the warm, fuzzy glow that had started to grow in my core went dark. He may as well have dumped a bucket of ice water over me.

  I looked away again, ashamed and afraid he would press the subject. The only thing to do was shake my head and hope he didn’t pursue the topic any further.

  He was quiet for a long time. I wondered what he was thinking. That I had tried to end it all because I was alone? Or because my family had disowned me? I could only hope for such a lucky break.

  “All right,” he sighed. “Well, you’re here now. And we’ll do everything we can to get you back on your feet. Rest now. We’ll have our walk in the morning.”

  I did rest, knowing he was with me. He had already saved me and wouldn’t let any harm come my way. It was one of those things I didn’t need to be told to know it was true.

  The rest of my dreams that night were good ones. Antonio didn’t come back.

  7

  Miles

  She was lying. But why was she lying?

  I watched as she slept, telling myself it was unnatural to do it but unable to stop myself.

  If I could only get into that head of hers and understand why she did what she did. I wished it were as easy to understand her motives as it was for me to see through her obvious attempts at convincing me she didn’t have a dark past.

  It took no small measure of self-control to keep from promising her the world. No matter what she was afraid of, I would make it all go away. Woe to the man or woman who thought they could tell her what to do, woe to he or she who dared threaten or intimidate her. I’d grind them into the dust and laugh as I did it. I’d bring her home with me and protect her until my dying breath.

  Though the dragon urged me to tell her all of this and more, I’d held my tongue. He wasn’t exactly skilled at the art of romancing a woman. For him, everything was simple. Find what belonged to him, take it and make it his.

  Human women were slightly more complicated than that. And I wanted her to want me, not to come with me out of a sense of duty or because she was running away from a threat.

  She was mine. No one else’s. But I wouldn’t force her. She would love me and want me as much as I wanted her, if this was the real thing.

  If we were truly fated for each other.

  8

  Miles

  “Are you comfortable?” It had taken no fewer than five people to get her bathed and dressed, then into the wheelchair.

  Ainsley, Bonnie, Isla, Leslie, and Martina all stood off to the side and watched as I pushed the chair from the room.

  The girl—would I ever know her name?—gave me an enthusiastic nod as she grinned from ear to ear.

  She liked all the attention, I decided. She’d been ignored, left alone for a long time. Perhaps even abused. It was dangerous, allowing my imagination to run roughshod as I was, but she was far too fascinating—and silent—to do otherwise.

  “I have to admit, this place has done me good,” I explained as I wheeled her through the lobby and outside.

  Her head swung back and forth as though it were on a swivel, taking it all in. I had forgotten for a moment there that she had not been outside her room up to that point.

  “It’s lovely, isn’t it? I can’t imagine a person having troubles on their mind while being a guest here.”

  A shadow crossed her face, and she stopped looking around. Yes, there was a problem. She was a different girl than she’d been only moments earlier. Staring straight ahead.

  “I said something awkward again, didn’t I?” I asked as I pushed her through the door which led out to the pool. It was inviting, surrounded by lounge chairs and tables with striped umbrellas.

  Members of the clan swam and laughed alongside some of Mary’s teams. It was like a vacation for everyone involved, and the girl in the chair didn’t seem the least bit interested.

  Even so, I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She had so many questions. Why weren’t there any staff members milling around, carrying trays and fresh towels? Why was there no staff at the front desk when we’d walked past? Why hadn’t housekeeping been to her room? I had already discussed all of this and more with Martina, who had come up with a list of ways in which our little arrangement wasn’t like a typical luxury resort. I wouldn’t know from personal experience, naturally.

  We had decided that I wouldn’t address these differences unless she asked about them.

  I was certain she was able to speak—she hadn’t given me any indication to the contrary except for her silence.

  It could’ve been that she simply didn’t know what to say, or that she’d suffered such a severe trauma that she’d stopped speaking.

  Or that she didn’t want to reveal anything about herself.

  Every s
ilent minute gave me more reason to believe she was hiding something, and that it might come back to bite us all in the ass.

  As I passed Mary’s office window, I could almost feel her watching our progress. Her words from earlier in the day rang in my head. She may bring outsiders to us, looking for her. They could be trouble for everything I’ve built here—and your clan.

  It wasn’t only for her sake, then, that I had to find out about her. And not just because she played on my senses like a fiddle, never leaving my mind for more than a moment at a time—and even then, she always found a way back in.

  But because she could spell trouble for everybody else.

  “How are you feeling? Are you well?” I asked, walking down a path which wound through the lush, expertly manicured grounds.

  Who took care of the grounds? A mystery to me. I had never seen a worker on the place, though there had to be plenty of them hiding somewhere. There wasn’t so much as a squeaky shutter or smudged window in sight. Even the white sand beach which sat several hundred yards from the rear of the main building was pristine.

  It looked as though someone had raked it free of shells, stones, anything which might mar its perfection. I parked the wheelchair at the end of the path, where it met up with the sand.

  She looked up at me, her green eyes clearer than ever in the light of day.

  “I wondered what color your eyes were, when we were bringing you here,” I confessed. Nothing outside of the need to get through to her would’ve pulled such a confession from me at any other time. “You were unconscious, of course, and I tried to keep your body stable in the back of the truck. The road was bumpy, rough. I didn’t want you to bounce around too violently. And I wondered what color your eyes were. My mind was probably fixing on things that were pretty inconsequential just to keep me sane. It was a crazy day, top to bottom.”

  She watched me, still silent, with a longing I hadn’t seen from her before written all over her face. It was a crazy day for her, too. Crazier than it was for me, because she had been set on killing herself.

  “I need to be honest with you,” I said, standing in front of her. I didn’t want to make it easy for her to look away. “You see, this resort… it’s not a normal resort. You’ve probably figured that out by now.”

  She chewed her plump bottom lip with even, white teeth. Weighing her reaction. What did she have to lose by agreeing?

  “Come on,” I prodded with a half-smile. “You’re not stupid. Don’t ask me how I know. I just do. And you’re not completely doped up anymore. You’ve figured out by now that this isn’t a tourist destination.”

  She sighed, then nodded.

  “It isn’t easy for me to maintain a lie,” I admitted. “I’ve always found it easier in the end, to tell the truth. This way, I don’t have to keep track of the lies I’ve told. I’m not very good at it, either. So it’s better for me to be honest with you. This is a special place. All of us… well, we’re here for different reasons, but the resort isn’t open to outsiders. Do you understand what I’m getting at?”

  Another nod.

  She chewed her lip harder than ever.

  “None of us would ever make you leave,” I assured her, trying to foresee what could cause her strain. The dragon wasn’t pleased with my approach, to put it mildly.

  You’re a fool. You’re pushing her away. We need to pull her in, tell her how things truly are, that she is ours. We need her. His thoughts became my own.

  Yes, and that need pressed itself against my consciousness and threatened to overtake my good sense. I needed her with every fiber of my being. Just looking at her sent flames of desire shooting through me, threatening to burn too hot to control.

  She took a deep breath, looking down at her hands. Would she speak? What did she fear revealing if she did?

  “You have nothing to fear here. Don’t you know that yet? I don’t know who you are or why you did what you did.”

  She looked up, her eyes sharp.

  “I wouldn’t judge you, either,” I continued. “And it’s not a matter of feeling as though you owe me an explanation, because you don’t. But it would be a hell of a lot easier to know how to move forward if I knew even the first thing about you.”

  Her eyes were overly bright with unshed tears which soon spilled over, onto her cheeks.

  I wanted to hold her in my arms, to wrap myself around her and promise anything in the world so long as it would bring her some measure of peace. What had she been through? I knelt at her feet, taking her hands in mine.

  “Tell me, tell me,” I implored. “You don’t owe it to me, but it’s breaking my heart to see you like this and I can’t explain why. You can tell me. I might be able to help.”

  She shook her head. “Nobody can help me.”

  Her voice, even shaky with tears, was like music to my ears.

  “So you can speak.”

  “Of course, I can speak,” she wept. “Maybe it’s better for all of us if I don’t. I knew this was too good to be true. I’m putting you all in danger just by being here. Why did you have to save me?”

  So, she admitted there was danger in her being there.

  “How would we be in danger? I mean, if you were discovered here.”

  She looked straight into my eyes—into my soul, it seemed. “I’m not asking for you to explain what makes this place special or who you people are. Why you don’t want to be discovered. Please. Do me the favor in return of not pressing me on this. I’m begging you. I’ll leave as soon as I’m well. Only please, don’t ask me for more than that.”

  “I never said I want you to leave.”

  “No, but it would be better—besides, you’re not the only person here. You have to think of the others. Whoever they are.” She looked over her shoulder, to the resort. “You’ve all been so nice to me. I’ll go away, disappear, like I was never here. As soon as I can get around on my own. It will take some time, of course, but I’ll stay quiet until then. I won’t even leave my room, if need be.”

  The desperation was plain in her voice. What was her secret?

  “You should take me back,” she announced, wiping her wet eyes with the back of her hand. “Please. I’ll feel better there.”

  I couldn’t argue that and would be foolish to try. “Can you tell me one thing about yourself, at least? Just one little thing?”

  “Maybe. Depending on what it is you want to know.”

  “What’s your name?”

  She gasped softly, then surprised me by chuckling. “Right. Of course. You can call me Anna.”

  Another half-truth, or a flat-out lie. “I didn’t ask what I can call you. I asked what your name is.”

  “That is my name. Anna.” Stubborn, adamant, determined to reveal only what she wanted to reveal.

  I put on some speed getting her inside.

  The day wasn’t nearly as pleasant anymore.

  How was I ever supposed to get anywhere with her?

  It was almost a relief to wheel her back to the room and call on the women to help her into bed.

  For the first time, I was starting to wonder if my dragon knew what he was talking about when he called her our mate. How was I supposed to bring her into my life when I couldn’t get a single grain of truth from her?

  I decided to find Gate and vent to him about it, or else risk blowing up at someone. Or shifting without warning—which would be infinitely worse, especially if “Anna” was around to see it.

  Except that Gate found me first.

  “We have a problem,” he growled, gesturing for me to follow him to Mary’s office.

  9

  Miles

  The tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

  Mary sat behind her desk, tapping her fingers against the surface. When she lowered her glasses, allowing them to hang from the chain around her neck, the troubled look in her eyes startled me.

  “I’m trying,” I said in an attempt to head her off. “Really. She’s speaking now, so that’s a positiv
e development. Right?”

  “Yes, that’s a positive development. I knew it was only a matter of time.” She exchanged a look with Gate, the only other person in the room with us.

  “All right, then. What gives? What don’t I know about?”

  “Sit down,” she instructed, pointing to a chair across from where she waited.

  There were very few people in my sphere of acquaintance who could make an order like that and expect me to acquiesce without question.

  She was one of them. I sat, as did my cousin, while she stood.

  “There’s something we didn’t tell you about when Alan found the Jeep,” Gate explained. “Not that anyone deliberately tried to keep information from you, but it didn’t seem at the time like this could uncover anything serious.”

  “I don’t understand. What did he find?”

  She looked at me as though I had gone nutty. “The car’s license plate. We ran it through our system in the hopes of finding the girl’s name, an address, anything we might need. Don’t forget—while we’re protecting and caring for her, there could be people looking for her out there. People who love her and think she’s dead. If that were the case, I couldn’t harbor her here without at least letting them know she was still alive—and if there are extenuating circumstances which make it impossible or ill-advised for her to return home, I would be happy to provide protection. But there’s no way I could keep her here without knowing the first thing about her.”

  “Fair enough,” I managed to reply through the ruckus in my head.

  Neither of them looked happy at that moment. The news they’d found wasn’t good. “So? What did you find?”

  “The car is registered to one Richard Davison,” she reported, handing me a thick file enclosed in a manila folder. “I realize you have no reason to be familiar with the name, but it’s a rather notorious one on the islands.”