by Ruth Owen
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.”
“No,” he said, bending toward her. “There’ll be no more lies between us.”
Desire, heavy and urgent, began tightening his body. He lifted her hair away from her neck and bent his head to kiss away her tears, and trail hot caresses down the slender column of her throat. She moaned, and shivered as he found the betraying flutter at the base of her neck. “I want you,” he growled, his arms tightening around her slender body. “I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before. But I’ve got to know this is what you want, too.”
He lifted his head, his gaze pouring like liquid fire into her eyes. “No lies,” he breathed. “Can you still love me, even after what I told you?”
He’s offering me a choice, she thought through her haze of passion. As much as he wanted her physically, she knew that if she told him this wasn’t what she wanted he would drop his arms and walk away. She’d go back to her old life without any regrets for a brief affair in an isolated jungle valley. Without any regrets … or memories. And as she looked ahead at the long, cold years she’d spend with Hayward or some other equally civilized husband, she knew she’d cherish this memory of passion, and fire, and hopeless, helpless heartache.…
She brushed the edge of his sensitive mouth, the lips that had so recently kissed away her tears. So much sorrow. So much pain. Without taking her eyes from his, she unknotted her towel, and let it fall in a hush to the ground. “We’re wasting time,” she whispered huski
ly as she pressed her soft breasts against his chest and twined her arms around the corded muscles of his neck. “Forget the hell in our pasts. Come on, Jolly-mon. Take me to paradise.”
A feral sound issued from his throat. Lowering his lips, he kissed her with a savage sweetness that seared away the frost inside her. Their hands roamed over each other in an orgy of discovery, exploring by touch, stroke, love. Tangled together they slid to the ground, falling, into a waist-high bank of indigo and cream flowers that arched over them like a secret bower. The scent of crushed blossoms mixed with the smell of sex, driving her closer to the edge of madness. Wild, she arched against him, and gave a small moan of disappointment when she realized he was still wearing his jeans.
His throaty chuckle was as seductive as his kisses. “This ain’t a free ride, sweetheart. You take them off.”
His dark eyes challenged her, daring her to seduce him. She reached up for his belt, but hesitated, shivering at a sudden chill wind of doubt. She’d spent so many years rigidly denying her emotions. Maybe, now, she wouldn’t be able to show him the depth of her love, to satisfy him in the way she so desperately wanted to. “I don’t know … oh, Sam, what if I can’t give you what you need.”
He cocked an amused eyebrow. “For a bright lady, you’ve got some crazy ideas. You’re what I need.”
“But—”
He covered her words with a deep, plundering caress. “You,” he murmured as he left her lips and moved to her breast, suckling her tight peak until she moaned aloud. “You,” he breathed as he skimmed love bites down her stomach, making her arch in lush, aching pleasure. “You,” he whispered finally as he spread her legs, and claimed her intimately with an erotic, openmouthed kiss.
She exploded like a star. She cried aloud, gripping the flowers beneath her, crushing them. Gradually the world collected back around her. She smelled the sweet scent of the demolished flowers and heard the gentle rush of the nearby waterfall. And she saw him hovering over her, watching her with a tenderness that nearly destroyed her all over again.
“I need you, beautiful, loving Noel,” he whispered hoarsely, his jaw pulling taut as he fought for control. “Come on, sweetheart. Take me to paradise.”
His loving gaze burned away the last of her doubts. With only their gazes touching she reached for his belt, and stripped away the last barrier against their love. She had a scant moment to feel the strength of his need, and think how beautiful he was, before he filled her aching center with one powerful thrust. Gasping at the intimate invasion, she felt her body instinctively close around him, and knew her love had shattered the last of his iron control. She gently stroked back his damp hair, suddenly feeling as if she was the more experienced one. “No more lies,” she whispered. “I was born for you, my love, my mate.”
And with a hunger and joy as old as Eden he claimed her body and soul, forging their two lost and lonely hearts into a single burning flame. He thrust into her again and again, driving them toward oblivion, melting the cold emptiness of her past with the white-hot glory of his passion. She writhed beneath him, crying out his name as his love overwhelmed her. But just before she toppled over the edge into oblivion, she felt an icy chill of premonition, warning that she’d pay for her happiness, like her mother before her.…
The jungle glade was emerald still. Evening shadows had begun to drift through the trees, staining the leaves and tangled vines with a lazy, indigo darkness. And in a hidden bower of ferns and scattered star blossoms, a pair of contented lovers lay in each others’ arms, watching the slowly setting sun.
Noel sighed, and snuggled closer to the soft mat of hair on Sam’s chest. Her body still burned from the places he’d touched her, loved her, claimed her. She’d been a wildcat in his arms, totally shameless in her desire for him. Grandmother would be appalled, she thought, smiling.
“What’s so funny?”
His words rumbled through him like burnished thunder. She’d thought he was asleep, but when she turned her head to look at his face she caught a glint of blue under his long eyelashes. “I was thinking about my Bostonian ancestors,” she answered with a mischievous grin, “and how shocked they’d be by my behavior.”
“They’re not the only ones, sweetheart. Where’d you learn those moves?”
“Undergraduate comparative religion. We studied the Kama Sutra.”
“Kama what?”
“Sutra,” she repeated. “An ancient text on lovemaking.”
“Ancient text …?” He rested his arm behind his shaggy head and looked up at the evening sky, chuckling. “Only you could turn a college textbook into an erotic experience. You’re incredible.” He stretched with lazy contentment. “Of course, I wasn’t so bad myself.”
She shrugged. “You were okay.”
“Just okay?” he replied, his eyes widening. “What about ‘Take me, Sam. Take me like you’ve never taken anyone be—’ ”
“All right, you were better than okay,” she interrupted. “You were … adequate.”
“Adequate!”
He suddenly circled her with his arms and expertly spun her around, so that she was pinned spread-eagle under him. “Here’s what you do with adequate,” he murmured as he lowered his mouth to hers.
She gave herself up to his kiss, drinking in his strength, his passion, his joy at being with her. All were precious. She surrendered to him, saving up every sensation, every moment, against the time when they wouldn’t be together anymore. I won’t have him forever, I know that. But until then I can love him, and maybe help him forget the ghosts of his past—
Suddenly he pulled away from her, lifting his head like a wolf catching a scent. “Did you hear something?”
Only my heart, she thought, feeling it pound like a jackhammer against her ribs. “No. What was it?”
“Can’t be sure. Probably nothing. Still …”
With a single, fluid motion he rose to his feet. She watched him pace the perimeter of the small glade, mesmerized by the almost unholy grace of his stride, the powerful beauty of his lean, lionlike body. My mate, she thought, and shivered as a wave of primitive pride rose up inside her. Even after I leave this island, there’s a part of me that will always belong only to him. Even after I leave …
Suddenly she realized how difficult that was going to be. She loved him, but he’d never spoken of loving her, or of seeing her as anything more than another woman in a long string of affairs. Donovan wasn’t the kind of man who made commitments—she’d known that from the start. She had no right to feel any regrets. Unlike her mother, she’d walked into this affair with both eyes wide open. But as she looked into her heart, and discovered too late how completely she belonged to him, she felt the sting of tears in her eyes.
“I don’t hear anything now,” he said as he started back toward her. “But we’d better get back to camp, just in case. There might be some animals out here that I don’t know about.”
She nodded and stood up, quickly wiping the incriminating tears from her eyes. “We should also be getting back to PINK and Einstein. We’ve left them alone for a long time. They’re probably worried about us.”
“Fat chance,” Sam commented as he reached her side. “Those little Machiavellian cyber-punks were the ones who sent me after you in the first place. Of course,” he added roughly as he put his hand under her chin and gently tilted her mouth up toward his, “guess that means I owe the little guys a vote of thanks.”
She melted against him in a frenzy of passion, molding her body to his body, her heart to his. Mouths open, their tongues joined in a wild dance, devouring each other with a hunger that only grew stronger. She gave herself to him completely, kissing him like there was no tomorrow. Because there isn’t a tomorrow, not for us.
Too soon he raised his head, staring down at her with a tenderness that turned her knees to water. “Damn,” he breathed, smiling shakily. “Keep that up and we’ll never get back to—”
All at once he stopped, lifting his head like he was testing the
wind. “There it is again. That sound.”
“I didn’t hear—” She broke off as she caught the faint sound of a high-pitched, all-too-familiar wail. “Oh God, it’s Einstein’s warning siren. Sam, he’s in danger!”
[Damaged battery storage reactivated by external power source]
External voice (feminine pitch): Einstein, can you hear me? Sam, I don’t think he’s responding.
E-Text (audio): No, am okay. Just got … mega-headache.
External voice (masculine pitch): You’re lucky that’s all you have. Someone took a sledgehammer to your video cam and CPU.
E-Text (audio): Two men: one fat, one tall. One had big knife.
Voice (masculine): The Deveraux! They’ve defiled holy ground. Damn, I knew they were bad news, but I never thought they’d stoop to—
E-Text (audio): PINK What about PINK?
Voice (feminine): They took her notebook PC along with some other equipment. But don’t worry. We’ve got her backup disks, so we can reload—
E-Text: No! Must go after. Save her … them.…
Voice (feminine): Them? E, you’re delirious. PINK’s disks are safe. The box doesn’t matter. E-Text: Matters. Data in low core—too volatile for standard backup. Energy modules of self-replicating, cognitive programs.
Voice (masculine): Cognitive? You mean she’s been running some kind of teaching program?
E-Text: Not teaching. Learning. Growing. Got to save PINK’s PC. Got to save … our babies.
TWELVE
“How much of a head start do you think they have?” Noel asked as she peered through the Jeep’s windshield at the deepening twilight and steep, badly rutted mountain road.
“Don’t know, but any distance gives them a hell of an advantage.” Sam palmed the wheel, narrowly avoiding a pothole that could have tipped them over on their side. He couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that now. He’d already made too many. “Damn those computers. Why didn’t they tell us that PINK was pregnant?”
