CHAPTER FIVE
LUISA HAD BEEN sizzling from the moment Hunter Shaw had walked onto the beach and back into her life. Sleep was an impossibility. She was too hot and her mind raced and justification came too easily. Her body wanted him and didn’t care about consequences. Her brain was swiftly being bamboozled.
Lust. That was all it was. He’d acknowledged as much and he wanted rid of it too. That was the one thing that reassured her. He didn’t want a relationship any more than she did. So wouldn’t this be safe? Couldn’t this be easy?
Not with him.
Intuition clanged like an old-school fire alarm. She tugged on her swimsuit and pulled her resort shirt over the top, carrying her skirt. She liked a swim before starting her shift, but when she got to the quiet stretch of beach that she favored, Hunter was already knee deep in the brilliant waters.
“Swim with me,” he called as she walked to the edge of the shore.
The water was so inviting and mixed with the expression in his eyes and the face that he was utterly built?
“They’re all in bed,” he added with that smile. “They won’t want coffee for another half hour at least.”
So he knew her routine. Either he’d guessed or asked someone. She was tempted to walk away without a word, but a quick dip would refresh and resettle her for the rest of the day. Her eyes felt scratchy and her skin was sizzling and she hadn’t even started work yet. She whisked off her top and tossed it, together with her skirt, further up the sand.
“You’re determined to torture me, aren’t you?” She glared at him.
But as she looked her fill, she could see the effect her gaze—her presence—was having on him. And that willful part of her dropped to its knees and gave thanks. It was such a relief that he wanted her in this same wild way.
“You’re a witch,” he muttered roughly, not lifting his gaze from her.
But she was the one responding—her muscles tingling, her breasts tightening and deep below, that slick softening.
“You’re hardly being fair yourself,” she retorted huskily.
All this by merely looking?
He suddenly turned and dived under the water, popping up again a few feet away. “The island is remarkably quiet.”
She stepped into the ocean just enough for the cool, clear water to slide over her feet. “As you said, they’re all still sleeping. Some might go on excursions to another island. But really, it’s all about lying around and making love day and night.”
She couldn’t help checking out his body again as she spoke—feasting on the visual treat while she could and softening at the thought of sex.
“What are you thinking?” His lips curved ever so smugly.
“I thought you’d have a tattoo or something.” She’d noticed yesterday that his bronzed skin was unmarked, now she took the time to take another look.
“You’re disappointed?”
“Intrigued. Why don’t you have one? Don’t lots of ex-military types have tattoos?”
He turned to the side and mock-preened, flexing his muscles for her. “You think it would make me look scarier? More manly?”
She laughed. “You couldn’t look more manly.”
“What about a beard?” He rubbed his freshly shaven jaw. “Would that make me more manly?”
“I like seeing your jaw.” It was strong and masculine and in some ways edgier than if he had stubble. That relentless routine of his suggested such self-control.
“I’m clean skinned—I deliberately have no identifiable features,” he muttered. “So I can just blend in.”
She laughed more loudly and pointed her finger at him. “You could never just blend in.”
He was so striking, even when silent. It was the way he carried himself with that utter self-assurance and he was so confident in where he was and so aware of all that was around him. But she still felt like he was holding something back. What he’d told her yesterday about his sister had only raised more questions she shouldn’t ask. Not when she knew he didn’t want to answer. But she was so curious about him. Too curious.
“You have a tattoo.” He gazed at the series of numbers on the side of her ankle as the water lapped it. “It’s a key, right? Some kind of cipher?”
Smart, wasn’t he.
“What does it mean?” he asked.
“You figure it out.”
“No, you’ll tell me if you want me to know.” He sent her a pious look. “I’m working on restraining my need to know everything.”
She giggled and splashed deeper into the water. “That’s never going to work.”
“Why so little faith in me?”
“Past form. You can’t help but ask questions. I think it’s in your DNA.”
A shadow fell across his face but he rallied a smile. “Can a man not change?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so, no. You want to find out everything about me that you can, the question is why you need to know when all you really want is my body.”
“That’s true. I do want your body. Very much. But you intrigue me. People with secrets do.”
She smiled. “My secrets aren’t all that exciting.” She leaned back to float freely. “I think it’s just habit for you. And a bit of a game—you’re always honing your skills and you can’t resist the challenge.”
“You like to know things too. You want me to answer your questions so that gives you a sense of power and control.”
He was smart—used to dealing with wary, untrusting people. “You must see all kinds of things in your work.”
A somber light shadowed his eyes. “Things you just wouldn’t believe. Sometimes it feels like a losing battle. People suffer unimaginable horrors.”
“But you’re doing good. Every little bit, right?”
“Every one counts. Even if it’s just one in a whole year. I know that it matters. That one is still a success.”
“Do some not want to come with you when you find them?”
“Sometimes I can look scary,” he answered wryly. “Often I can get a loved one to be with me just after intercept. That helps. But sometimes, I get booked to find someone who’s simply run away and doesn’t want to be found.”
“What do you do then? Do you tell the family you found her?”
“It depends. If someone really didn’t want to return home, then I guess I’d respect that.” He sighed. “It’s hard though, isn’t it? Balancing privacy and self-determination up against the desperation of the people she’s left behind. The family who are worried about her.”
She shivered and sank right into the water. This felt too personal. “You can’t know for sure they’d be worried.”
“I can be if they’re the ones who’ve hired me.”
“You said no one had hired you to find me.”
“That’s right.” His gaze sharpened. “But you’d admit that there are people who are worried about you?”
“The important people in my life know where I am.” She suddenly swam closer so she could look directly in his eyes. “Maybe we don’t do this talking anymore. Maybe we tease each other, but we don’t do personal. This island is a fantasy escape. It isn’t real. And what’s happening between us here won’t extend beyond these tiny shores.”
His expression tightened. “Looks like we just found your limits.”
“I already told you my limits, you just weren’t listening.” She knew he wanted her to open up, but she didn’t want to be another kind of case—a code for him to crack or a puzzle to solve. She didn’t want it to make any difference to what might happen between them. “No more questions.”
“Okay.”
Yet now she felt bereft of something she hadn’t known she’d had or realized that she’d wanted. She was a coward and she was certainly too much of a coward to admit it to him. With what he’d seen, what he’d dealt with, he would think she was pathetic and spoilt if she told him her past, and perhaps she was. But she didn’t want to drop in his estimation. She didn’t want him to know why she’d ru
n from her home those years ago. As she’d said, this was just a moment on this island. Nothing more. She’d let the fantasy remain here. Hell, right now she just wanted him to help her come again. Which was the most selfish thing ever.
It was a horrible feeling to realize she was not a likable person—for all the fun persona she put into her work, for all the bright and cheery fun she could help others have, underneath it all she was awful.
“I’d better go get ready.” She splashed out of the water and headed up the beach away from him.
“I’ll see you later.” His low laughter rang in her ears, warming her in the one place she had no desire to be warmed.
CHAPTER SIX
IT WAS ALWAYS going to come to this. She didn’t have the willpower to resist forever. Truth was, she wanted him and how much she wanted him was terrifying. But the thought of not having him—even just the once—had become more terrifying.
He’d said he didn’t want to research her, that he wanted her to tell him her truth. But if she gave him want he wanted—her body—then there’d be no reason to need to know anything anymore. It’d be over—he didn’t want anything from her apart from a fling. So maybe she’d just let him have what he wanted.
She gazed at him from across the bar, in his white tee and khaki shorts he looked the picture of relaxed-male… but he was still lethal. The day had gone appallingly slowly. He’d kept his distance, only wandering over the once to request a coffee. And then, after dinner, he’d taken up position at the end of her bar and silently watched her. And waited until now, the end of her shift. She’d poured the last drink of the night and the band was finishing off their set.
She walked around the bar and right up to where he waited.
“Do everything once? Isn’t that your motto?” she asked him.
He didn’t answer.
She leaned closer. “Do me once,” she whispered.