"Somehow most of our meals together end up forgotten." I brush my lips lightly over yours. "I'm okay with it though."

"I'll get everything back out." Your finger runs up and down my arm. "But I don't want to move right now."

I nuzzle my nose in close under your ear. "Don't move. Stay right here."

When the first few stars blink in the sky, I take your hand and lead you back onto the blanket. We lay side by side, our folded hands resting over your heart, letting ourselves be smothered by the darkness.

The rapid, steady beat of helicopter blades wakes me the next morning. I dart up onto my knees and press my face against the window pane, trying to see it flying overhead. I can't spot it in the blinding white sun, but know where it's headed.

You're not in the room. We came back late. Both of us had fallen asleep in the tree house. After tucking me into bed and placing a chaste kiss on my lips, you retreated to the couch to sleep. I check the time on my phone. Seven-thirty. I wonder what woke you so early.

I quickly shower, scrubbing off sticky chocolate residue, dress, and head downstairs.

Voices greet me on my way through the lounge. Yours and someone else's-a woman's. The two of you sit at the wrought iron table on the patio sipping coffee.

She's in my seat.

You see me and jump up. "Morning." You're all smiles, rushing toward me. "Rachael, this is Joan, my a.s.sistant."

The leggy blonde stands and holds out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Rachael. I brought you a wardrobe so you don't have to wear Merrick's clothes anymore."

I wonder if all of your employees call you by your first name. "Thank you." I shake her hand and glance down at myself wearing your t-shirt and baggy basketball shorts cinched tight at the waist. I like wearing them.

You pull out the chair on the other side of yours, across the round table from Joan. "I'll get your coffee." You plant a kiss on top of my head and disappear inside.

Joan raises an eyebrow and gives me a smug smile. "Well. I've never seen him like this. He's the one who gets waited on hand and foot, certainly not the other way around."

"He's been very attentive," I mutter, wishing she didn't look quite so perfect in her short red sundress and spiky heels. "Did you come alone?"

"Yes, I was dropped off first thing this morning to coordinate the arrival of the work crew and building supplies." Her red fingernails tap against her mug. "And to touch base with Merrick privately before things got crazy around here." She laughs, but it's fake.

I tap my teeth together. I don't like the sound of this woman having private time with you. My intuition tells me her motivation isn't work related at all.

I shouldn't be jealous. I barely know you, and Joan obviously does-well.

You stride back out through the patio doors and set a mug of coffee and dish of fruit in front of me. "You have to be starving. Joan and I are wrapping up here then I'll make us breakfast." You squeeze my shoulder. "Wow, you're tense." You stand behind me and ma.s.sage my shoulders for a few minutes while Joan sips her coffee with her back ramrod straight and keeps her eyes glued to her mug.

"When will the crew arrive?" I ask, leading the conversation back to business.

Joan picks up her phone and taps a few times on the screen. "Forty-three minutes from now." She opens a file folder and directs her question to you. "Will they start on the hotel or the pool and cabana area today?"

You sit and look at me, smiling. "Rachael?"

Joan's eyes widen and shift to me. She doesn't say a word.

"You and I can begin clearing out some of the guest rooms," I say to you, ignoring Joan. "The crew will need somewhere to sleep. They can start on the pool area and work their way to the hotel once we've got everything we'd like to use in the restoration safely stored away somewhere."

You knock your knuckles on the tabletop. "Perfect. Got that Joan?"

"Oh, I've got it." She makes a few notes in her file before she stands. "I need to get to the landing area. Enjoy your morning." She shoves a pair of sungla.s.ses on her face and strides out through the gate.

"I have no idea how she's going to make her way around the island in those heels," I say, watching her go.

"She's very resourceful," you say, following her every stride.

"I figured." I pop a grape in my mouth and crush it between my teeth.

You give me an uncertain look, like you're not sure at all what I'm thinking. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." I force a smile onto my lips. "Thanks for the coffee and fruit."

"You're welcome." Leaning back in your chair, your lips curve slightly at the corners and your eyes trail over my face. "I love how your skin glows in the morning sunlight. It's been one of my favorite parts of having you here with me."

My chest surges with nervous excitement. I can't pull my eyes away from you. You're so at peace. I've never seen you without a hint of torment playing over your face. Your fingers come up and teepee under your chin. Suddenly, the peaceful look is gone, and your brows furrow. "I never even considered..."

"What?"

"Do you have someone? A boyfriend? Someone I took you away from?"

"Did you see me with someone while you were watching me?"

A shadow crosses your face and then it's gone. "No repeat offenders."

I secretly enjoy the fact that you saw me going out with other men, and it bothered you. "If I did have someone, I suppose the relationship would be over now, don't you think? My leaving without saying a word about it would put a strain on things."

One eyebrow c.o.c.ks up. "But you didn't?"

I shake my head. "No. I didn't."

Your hands fall, and you grasp the arms of the chair, exhaling noisily. "Thank G.o.d. I didn't need one more hurdle between us to leap."

"That's what I'm talking about though," I say, leaning forward. "You need to take the feelings of others into consideration."

You reach for my hand and place yours over it on the table. "I'm trying. It's been about me for so long. I've grown accustomed to being selfish." You lace your fingers with mine. "I promise you, anything I do from here on out will be to make you happy."

Despite the fact that you're getting ahead of yourself-and me-your words fill me with warmth. "If you can do that for me, you can do it for Heidi."

Your hand squeezes mine. "When this restoration is well under way and the hotel is fit for guests, I'll bring her and my brother-in-law and niece and nephew down to see it. And to meet you, if I haven't run you off."

"Let's take us day-by-day. I think your sister and her family would love it here. Maybe we should put a slide in the pool."

"The kids would love that." Your smile is enormous, infectious.

"Merrick, you know that one kind gesture might not fix everything between the two of you, right?"

Your smile falters a little. "I know. But it'll be a good start."

"A very good start." I push a strawberry around in my bowl, thinking about how to ask you what I'm wondering and deciding the best approach is to just ask. "Does Heidi talk to your father? How does she feel about the lawsuit?"

Your fingers slide from between mine as you sit back in your chair. "She talks to him. She wasn't very active in the company when he started demanding money, so it didn't affect her like it has me."

"Does it bother you that she talks to him?"

You sit forward again and lean your elbows on your knees, careful to not make eye contact with me. "I don't want her to pick sides. It's best if she stays out of it."

"But does it bother you, Merrick?"

You sigh and furiously rub the back of your head. "I was the one who took care of her-the one who has always taken care of her. Even after she got married, I..."

"You what? Took care of her better than her husband?"

"Yes. Don't get me wrong, the guy loves her. I know that. But she's got herself a younger version of my father. He doesn't show her a lot of affection, and I hate to see her begging for it. G.o.d, it's like some kind of mind-f.u.c.k just watching her wrestle with herself over holding his hand or touching his arm. Can't he just reach out and take her hand? Would it kill him to show her he loves her?"

You lean back and bring your hands down, squeezing your knees. Pain sears your eyes. "Can't someone be on my side for once? Someone I don't sign a paycheck for? Am I that bad?"

My heart clenches. Words pool on my tongue. I'll be on your side. But how can I say them? How can I think them? Are you that bad? I don't know what you're capable of, where your limits lay.

I can't take seeing you like this. "I'll make breakfast," I say, standing and collecting my coffee mug and fruit dish.

"No." You shift to your feet and try to take the bowl from me. "I was planning on it. It's no problem. I want to."

"Let me. Please." I need to do something for you. I can't promise to be on your side. Not yet. But, I need to give you something-make a gesture to ease you.

A helicopter flies over, followed by another. "Sounds like you're going to be needed outside of the kitchen," I say, pulling the fruit dish back from your fingers. "You might trust Joan with all of the details, but I just met her. I'd be more comfortable knowing you were there to oversee things. I'll be here making breakfast." You won't refuse a request if it's about the renovations. You put me in charge after all.

A smile slips across your lips and you narrow your dark, brooding eyes. "That's a very sneaky tactic, Miss DeSalvo."

"It's called strategy, Mr. Rocha."

Your laugh shakes any remaining anguish from your expression. "You are the boss. I'll go and make sure everything is on schedule, but I won't be gone long. Don't get comfortable being without me."

As you take the path through the gate, I step inside the hotel, and I puzzle at your last words. Don't get comfortable being without me. Are you afraid to leave me alone? Afraid my thoughts of how crazy this situation is will get the better of me? If you hadn't infiltrated my every waking hour, there's a good chance I would've taken you up on your offer to take me back home.

You've muscled your way in. I feel the separation now that I'm here by myself, footsteps echoing down this hallway into an empty kitchen. I'm anxious for you to come back and fill the s.p.a.ce with-you. With your smile and energy, your voice and laughter.

G.o.d, help me. I'm falling for you. How did I allow you under my skin like this? How can I get you out? A niggling in my brain goes off like a small alarm. I don't want to get you out of my system.

I like you in here.

Chapter Ten.

More than an hour has pa.s.sed and I've got enough eggs and bacon staying warm in the oven for all of the crew and Joan-if she even eats. Given her size, it's debatable.

There's no broom in the hotel that I can find, so I've broken down a cardboard box and use it to sweep the shards of gla.s.s on the entryway floor into a pile in the corner. Two large suitcases sit right inside the kitchen that I ignore, certain my new wardrobe is folded neatly inside them. I'm not eager to accept it. Then again, it isn't like accepting charity-you brought me here with no clothes.

What type of clothing would Joan pick out for me? I can only imagine. I'm going to be renovating an historic hotel in stilettos and spaghetti straps with a thong riding up my a.s.s. If that's the case, I'm sticking to wearing your clothes.

"Hey," you say, strolling in behind me, "what are you doing? I'll get that. The crew brought a broom and all the tools we'll need to start working around this place." You're bare from the waist up, damp and glistening from the sun and practically glowing. "I rescued something just in time." You step back and peer down the hall toward the lounge, then beckon someone with your hand.

Two men lumber into the entryway hauling a long wooden beam. I spy the etched heart with two sets of initials inside and recognize it immediately. "Thank G.o.d you remembered!" I rush forward and run my fingertips over the heart. "This can never get lost."

Your smile is enormous, and you rock up on your toes with your hands shoved into the pockets of your faded jeans that fit every sculpted muscle. "I get the important things right, Rachael."

Not sure how to respond, I only blink a few times before turning to the men holding the beam. "Please, lean it against the wall and come have some breakfast. I've made enough for everyone," I say, turning to Merrick. "Will you go get them?"

You rub the back of your neck. "I'm sure they ate before they arrived. We should really get them going on the cabana."

"Let's call it a kick-off meeting then to get everyone on the same page. Please go get them." I'm not wasting the food I made and the time I put into preparing it. I'm trying to do something nice, don't you realize?

You're hesitant. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" You nod toward the stairs.

Why do you have to over think this? "What?"

You nod again, and I follow you halfway up the steps. Stopping, you take my hand. Your face is focused, eyes dark and gleaming with power. "Don't blur the line between employer and friend with these guys."

"Like you and Joan?" The words tumble out, and I want to scoop them up and shove them back in, but I can't.

You jerk back, shocked and quirk an eyebrow. Are you amused? "I mean it. They'll take advantage of the situation if they can and screw off. You have to stay on top of them." Your lips twist. "Not literally though, please. I'll end up as jealous of the crew as you seem to be of Joan." A sly, s.e.xy grin forms on your lips.

"Why would I ever be jealous of Joan?" I spin on my heel, but before I can take one step down the stairs, you've got me by the shoulders.

"You shouldn't ever be jealous of Joan," you say, your mouth close to my ear, your warm breath tickling my neck. "You're all I want."

I shouldn't ask. It's none of my business, but I have to know. "Have you been with her?"

You squeeze my shoulders, and I'm so tense, it hurts. "Physically, yes. Emotionally, no."

My eyes squeeze shut. "Recently?"

"Define recent." Your fingers tighten on my shoulders again. Your thumbs dig into my back and ma.s.sage.

"I don't think I need to. You've just answered my question." I push your hands off of me and stride down the stairs. The woman you're involved with knows every detail of your life-plans every detail of your life. Now she's here. How nice for you.

I storm into the kitchen and fling the oven door open. Grabbing a pot holder, I yank the baking sheets and ca.s.serole dishes out and slam them onto the marble island. f.u.c.king a.s.shole. Why would you bring me here if you're with her? Why would you make me start to have feelings...? f.u.c.king a.s.shole!

"Guys," I hear you say out in the entryway, "go get the rest of the crew and tell them Miss DeSalvo has called a breakfast meeting."

Work boots clomp away, and even if I don't hear you come in, I can feel your presence in the kitchen with me. "Rachael, what do you want me to say? I didn't expect you to react this way."

"I'm not reacting any way. Just getting things ready for the meeting." If you come near me right now, I'll kill you. I can't even look at you or I'll throw something at your head.

You take two hesitant steps toward me. "This isn't reacting?"