“I just wanted to tell you goodbye.” Tears filled her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall. “I’m so glad you came here. Really. Even with everything…” As her voice broke, she turned her face down to look at her hands.
The need to hold her and comfort her was so strong he didn’t know how much longer he could withstand. Still, he sensed whatever she was here to do she needed to be removed from him to do it.
“I’m glad I know what really happened in Africa and how you really felt,” she finished.
He wouldn’t mention she should’ve always known.
“I’m glad to have the memories of these last weeks to replace some of the old ones. I’d rather remember our ending like this.”
“Our ending?” She had to be crazy. “We’re not ending, Cam. I’m leaving, but I’ll be back.”
Studying her hands as if they held the answer to all the world’s problems, she twisted her fingers. “I won’t be here.”
Shock rocked through him. She’d sworn she couldn’t take Ara away from her home, her family. Now she wouldn’t be here? “Where the hell will you be?”
Hoping she’d come with him was useless, but unavoidable.
“You were right. As long as Victor Roberts knows she’s here, none of us are safe. We’re going to take her somewhere else.”
“Somewhere else?” He couldn’t help but parrot her words. “Where?”
Negligently, she lifted a shoulder. “There are other islands like this. Places we can make a life without a lot of questions.”
And no answers since Cameron was becoming the queen of not giving any.
“So, you and Keso will do what you did here? Pretend to be a family. Pretend—”
“We are a family,” she insisted. “Aren’t you the one who said we’re her true parents? That—”
“But to each other. What will you pretend to be to each other?”
Why he asked, he didn’t know. The only plausible answer was obvious.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Averting her gaze, she took a deep breath. Her chest rose, pushing her breasts against her tank top, before she flinched, squeezing her eyes shut in pain.
“Cameron?”
“We’re not going to pretend.” Voice trembling, she continued, “I’ve… we’ve decided to get—”
“Don’t you say it.” Gripping her biceps, he snapped her against him. “I swear to God, Cameron. Don’t you—”
“I’m going to marry him.” Not a trace of happiness accompanied her words.
Desperation washed over Ian, blanketing his skin, his heart, until the emotions felt too heavy to even breathe. He dropped his hands from Cameron’s arms and backed away. “You can’t do that.”
“I want to. You being here reminded me of what I’ve missed. I wanted to be married. I wanted children. After you, I thought I couldn’t have that, but now—”
“You can have that. With me. What the fuck are you thinking, Cameron? You can’t marry him. You can’t—”
“I am,” she whispered. “It’s best for Arabella, for any other—”
“You can’t have his child.” This was the final straw. She’d officially lost her goddamn mind. He’d tell Wes. They’d have her evaluated and forced back home for care. Leaving her here in the middle of a clear mental breakdown wasn’t an option.
The smile she gave him barely turned the corners of her mouth. Her cool hands cradled his face. “I love you. I will always love you, but I have to move on and live. You have to m—”
“No. Hell no.” Shoving her hands away, he jerked back. “This is bullshit, Cameron. How can you say you love me—”
“Because I do.”
“And marry someone else? Can you really lie with him every night, make love to him—” Anguish robbed him of the rest of his words as his chest tightened with panic. Turning away, he shoved both hands into his hair. He wanted to pull out every strand. To yell. To demand she come with him.
Gently, her hands rested on his back. “Go be happy.”
Stiffening, he stood frozen as she pressed her forehead to a spot between his shoulder blades. The same spot she’d kissed him days ago when she told him she loved him. Him not fucking Keso Lawrence.
“I won’t be happy. Not if you’re with him. Not if you’re not mine.”
She turned her head, flattening her cheek against his back. Her hands fisted in his t-shirt. “I hope that’s not true, Ian. Truly. I only want you happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.” All those years ago, she’d left so he could find happiness. Her motives were just as misguided now.
When she lifted away, all the warmth abandoned him, replaced with endless frost. He couldn’t accept this fate. Not after everything they’d been through. Spinning to face her, he caught sight of her disappearing through the trees.
“Cam,” he ran after her.
“Dr. Gauthier.” Edmund stood on the path.
“Not now Edmund.” Desperate to reach Cameron and convince her of her idiocy, he pushed past the other man.
“I have news about your inquiry.”
Ian paused.
“Good news,” the man added.
Although he wanted to go to Cameron, Ian needed to know what Edmund had heard. If the other man was telling the truth and he had good news, Ian could use the information to convince Cameron not to marry Keso. If she wanted a husband, more children, by God, he’d give her all she could stand.
* * *
Cameron hurried down the worn path away from Ian to a secluded section of beach. Normally, she went to the stream behind the clinic when she needed to be alone. Today, being in the spot where she’d first made love with Ian again threatened to be more than her breaking heart could handle. She’d lied to Ian and in doing so, she’d hurt him… again. Although she and Keso did plan to leave the island with Arabella, she’d never marry him. How could she promise to love, honor, and obey one man when she belonged to another? But Ian needed to believe she’d turn to Keso, so he could finally, completely let her go. As long as he thought she waited for him, that hope remained for the two of them, he’d never be able to move on and fully commit to anyone else.
A sob rose, crowding her chest, squeezing her lungs. Truth be told, she didn’t want Ian to commit to anyone else. He belonged to her as surely as she belonged to him. But she could never make him happy. Until someone eliminated Victor Roberts, Arabella would never be safe. Cameron would do everything in her power to assure no harm came to her daughter.
The ground gave way to sand beneath her feet. Sinking, she kicked off her sandals and trudged a few feet onto the beach. Here, she heard only the gentle crash of waves as they flirted with the shore—until her first sob broke free, shattering the soft give-and-take of water and sand. Her body shook with the force of the sobs. Even when she thought Ian had betrayed her, she hadn’t felt such agony. Then, she’d been filled with anger, hatred even. Now, she couldn’t accurately describe the myriad of emotions swirling within her. She loved Ian wholly and fiercely. This time she feared that losing him again, knowing he loved her just as strongly as she loved him, may prove insurmountable. Waking up this morning with the knowledge that after today she’d never see him again, had almost kept her bedridden. How could she wake up every day for the next forty, fifty, or more years and force herself to go on with her life? She might not be that strong.
Wiping the tears from her face, she hugged her knees to her chest. From this little spot tucked between the towering palms and low tropical bushes, she could watch Ian’s boat as the vessel carried him away from her for good. At the thought, tears fell harder until she thought she’d be sick from the force of her sorrow. When the sound of the boat engine reached her ears, she lay her cheek against her knee and finally let the last pieces of her heart crumble.
* * *
Sprinting down the path to Cameron’s cottage, Ian was oblivious to the world around him. Trees, flowers, animals that would normally capture his attention whizzed by in a blur. His conversation with Edmund still consumed him. That and his worry over how Cameron would react to the news. Better than Wes, he hoped. When he’d told his friend he wouldn’t be accompanying him back to the States, the other man’s disapproval had been almost palpable. Not that Wes didn’t love Cam and want the two of them happy together. He just didn’t believe an island in the middle of nowhere was the place for either of them. Ian couldn’t be sure either. But if Cameron and Arabella were going to be here, or wherever they needed to go to keep the girl safe, then Ian would also be there. For the past five years, he’d experienced life without Cameron. No way could he survive that again.
The smoke filtering from Cameron’s cottage windows didn’t register until Ian was charging through the trees onto the tiny lawn surrounding her home. Skidding to a stop on the sandy path, he scanned the area for any sign of the woman he loved or her precious daughter. All he could picture was Cameron the way he’d found her only nights ago. Bloody. Broken.
“Cameron,” he yelled.
Heart pounding, he forced himself to move. If either of them was inside, he’d find them and pull them to safety. In this case, anything short of perfection wasn’t an option. As he approached the porch, flames became visible through the broken front door. From around the corner, he caught sight of a booted foot lying on the ground. Someone was down. What the hell was going on?
“Cameron. Arabella.” Lifting his arm to his face, he tried to protect his mouth and nose from the smoke.
A scream, followed by a weak bark from the other side of the house, were the only answers. Terrified of what he’d find, Ian darted around the side of the house to the back. The sight that greeted him sent pure terror coursing through his veins. The man he’d seen at the clinic days ago was hurrying across the yard with Arabella in his arms. Creek limped as quickly as he could after the pair, snarling weakly. Arabella screamed behind the man’s large hand and kicked her bare feet to no avail.
Ian’s fear transformed into white-hot fury. Arabella was his. From the moment the little nymph had looked up at him with pain and trust in her sea-green eyes, she’d wrapped herself around his heart. Once he knew she was Cameron’s, nothing could’ve made him turn his back on her. He didn’t care if Victor Roberts provided the DNA that created this child. Cameron and Keso had made her the loving, funny little girl she was. They, not this bastard, were who she belonged with.
Ian charged across the lawn, heading for the man and girl. Creek shifted feebly in his direction—teeth bared. Once he recognized Ian, he turned back to follow Ara.
Alerted by the dog, Roberts spun around, gun pointed at Ian’s chest. Shit.
“Dr. Ian.” Ara’s scream was muffled behind the other man’s large hand. Just the sight of the too large, too clean hand against her tan skin made Ian’s pulse hammer. He didn’t want the bastard touching his girl. She should never be near someone so evil and dirty.
“I don’t want the girl to see it, but I will kill you,” Victor warned.
Ian doubted he cared what Ara saw. In fact, if she was on her way to a life with this bastard, Ian’s death would likely be the first of many. Or had she already seen one? He thought of the foot he’d seen in the house. And where was Cameron? She wouldn’t have left her daughter home alone.
“Let her go,” Ian told him. “You don’t want her. Not really.”
Squeezing Ara until she cried out, Victor then tightened his grip on the gun. “She’s mine.”
“And what will you do with a four-year-old? You should be glad someone else was willing to take—”
“They stole her from me. No one steals from me and gets away with it. Just ask the people on the plane.” He smirked. “Oops. You can’t, can you?” As he stepped toward Ian, Creek lunged for the man’s hand. His teeth sank into flesh. Roberts cried out, squeezing the trigger, and sending a wild bullet past Ian’s shoulder. Seizing the opportunity, Ian rushed forward. Roberts’s grip on Ara loosened as he tried to fling the dog from his arm. The little girl kicked and wiggled until finally she dropped to the ground like a sack of stones. Ignoring the fight between man and dog, Ian ran for her. Before he could reach her, Roberts slung off the dog. Creek landed with a whimper. The man turned his gun on the dog.
“Creek. No.” Ara turned to protect her loyal friend.
Changing direction, Ian lowered his shoulder and hit the other man in the chest. They both crashed to the ground. Ian landed on top. The wind momentarily knocked from them both. Somewhere Arabella screamed. Ian wrapped his hands around Roberts’s gun hand, and when he could find his voice, he yelled for her to run.
“Keke,” she cried, pointing to the house with flames flickering from its roof.
Is that who he’d seen inside? Relief that perhaps Keso, not Cameron, had been home with the girl when Roberts arrived washed over him. Followed quickly by despair that Keso could be dead.
With his free hand, Victor beat at any part of Ian he could reach. A blow landed against Ian’s temple. For a moment, his vision lost color. He swayed but tightened his grip on the other man’s gun hand.
“Go,” Ian ordered Ara again, as Victor assaulted him. Until she was gone, he couldn’t risk letting go of the gun to defend himself. “Hurry. Go to the mermaid caves. I’ll get Keke.”
Though the likelihood of either Keso or Ian surviving was slim, he’d tell her anything to get her far away from Victor Roberts, fire, and guns. “Ara. Go. Now.”
At the stern sound of his command, her gaze snapped from her burning home to him. Those oddly hued eyes that had so ensnared him upon their first meeting filled with tears. A low growl emanated from Creek, who now stood between the girl and the men struggling on the ground.
Ian softened his voice to plead, “Go, baby. Find the mermaid caves.”
Nodding, she turned and sprinted away. Creek hobbled toward Ian. The dog’s head turned back and forth as he struggled with whether to help Ian or follow his girl.
“Go get Ara,” Ian gritted out.
Without hesitation, the dog limped after her.
Victor took advantage of Ian’s divided attention to drive his heels into the ground, then thrust his hips upward. Caught off guard, Ian toppled off the other man, helped along by another blow to his temple. Victor rolled, sending Ian to his back. Now, only one hand held the other man’s wrist. Ian kicked out, catching Roberts in the knee. Bone crunched and Roberts went down. Unfortunately, he fell on top of Ian; the gun sandwiched between them. Fear burned through Ian’s veins. He didn’t want to die. Not here on this island. Not now that he’d finally found Cameron again. But suddenly he understood Cameron’s willingness to suffer at the hands of Victor Roberts. If Ian’s dying meant saving Arabella, then dying is what he’d do. But Victor Roberts would go with him.
Filled with renewed determination, Ian beat at Roberts. His fist struck the man’s head and back. Twisting and bucking, he finally shifted so he could roll them and maybe get the upper hand. Then the gun between them exploded and fire raced through Ian’s chest.
* * *