Kendle heard the haunted tone and understood more than anyone else could have, but she said nothing as she dug through the box of tools he had pulled from a small attic space.

  “Clippers?” she asked, holding them up.

  “No. They’ll never chop through this tangle.”

  Clearly, he was struggling with something, a deep frown planting itself on his face. When he strode toward the cabin without saying anything, she wondered again, what crime had made him choose the painfulness of solitude over the quick end of a suicide. He wasn’t a coward, but he was doing penance; she was sure of it. Luke had been hurting himself for a long time, and Kendle wanted it to stop. He’d done so much for her! She almost felt like a normal person again. There had to be something she could do for him in return, some way to ease his pain.

  The jungle was alive around her, monkeys and squirrels chattering from vine-covered banyan trees and leafy palms that waved in the warm, dry wind. The sun was shining comfortably, the breeze light, and sometimes, like now, it felt as if they were the only ones on this nearly deserted southern island. If not for the heavy, hurting heart that needed to know, she thought she could be happy here.

  Luke came out carrying a long, black sword case decorated with patches, an American flag, and the initials L.L.J. His expression was dazed, far away, and Kendle watched curiously as he unzipped the bag, removing a worn machete. Shiny and no doubt deadly, the machete gleamed in the sun as he dropped the empty sheath into the thick paddle grass by her feet, mind clearly not in the present. She left him alone, eager to inspect the markings on the case.

  The past instantly came alive for Luke as he held the machete. The memories ran up the blade and dug into his rotting soul. He hadn’t touched it in years, not since clearing the land where his cabin sat. After that, he had locked it up with the rest of his old life.

  The first swipe was sweet, powerful, and Luke was jerked through time, suddenly facing his greatest joy and his biggest bête noir.

  The other men in his platoon had hated cutting a path through the dense jungles of Cambodia, griped constantly about the backbreaking, mind-numbing work, but not Luke. He understood that clearing their own road meant they were there before the enemy, before the mines and homemade traps meant to blow their legs a mile away. He’d been known as Whacker then, had used that excuse to explain always volunteering for point, but more than safety, hacking his own path gave him a feeling of power and control that the sixteen-year-old runaway had fallen in love with.

  Sweat rolled into face, and Luke automatically pulled off his white tank top and wiped his face, keeping the deadly weapon in hand. He pushed the shirt into his pocket and went back to work, enjoying the only good thing that had come from his time in the service.

  Frank, his mind insisted. Frank had been good. The POW hadn’t been from Luke’s platoon, but he had been another soldier (teenager much too young to be killing people), and they had formed a bond that was stronger than what they had with the other prisoners. They’d been hostages together, tortured together for their friendship, and when they’d gotten the chance, they had escaped together, taking nine other survivors along.

  It had earned them both medals and citations, but there was no erasing what had happened during the escape. An award couldn’t return all those lives.

  Regret rolled over Luke in waves, and he stopped swinging, breathing harshly. That world was decades gone, but it always seemed so much closer.

  Attention drawn repeatedly to Luke, Kendle was surprised by her reaction. She hadn’t expected the hard, sexy muscles to capture her attention so completely. Then, he’d started swinging again, tan, naked back flexing gracefully, and her mouth went dry.

  Luke turned in time to catch her staring, and there was no way he could mistake the desire as a breeze blew deliciously over his sweaty skin. The male inside him demanded he grab her, kiss her…claim her.

  Sun beating on his gritty neck, Luke took a single step before stopping. He turned away instead, putting his shirt on. Would she have denied or welcomed him?

  Kendle’s face was red, but with his sweaty, sexy skin covered, her mind seemed to wake from the sexual daze that had swallowed her.

  She noticed the machete hadn’t left his hand once. Must be special to him, she thought, and she was surprised when he came over and gently pushed the handle into her grip.

  “You can do the rest.”

  She hesitated. “I don’t have a clue.”

  Luke threw her a challenge in response, very aware of the salty air and the thick green jungle around them. It felt like he was caught between the past and the present. “I’ll show you. Unless you don’t think you can?”

  Kendle carefully took hold of the sharp weapon’s worn handle. She strode to the area that was almost a third cleared and raised a brow at him expectantly.

  Not quite smiling, Luke answered by sliding behind her and tugging her gently into his big arms. Barely suppressing a groan of pleasure, he wrapped himself around her and guided them, mouth near her ear, giving instructions.

  It was awkward at first, Kendle too aware of the hard male body molded to hers to work with him, and the images of his naked skin flashed through her mind as they bent and swung, dipped and cut.

  “Close your eyes.”

  She did it reluctantly, hating to give up control, but almost immediately, the feeling hit her. Total power, it was undeniable and consuming. She giggled against his jaw, as he led.

  They settled into a rhythm that made her stomach jump as primitive and sexual instincts converged stunningly with each carefully controlled and yet harshly violent swing.

  For Kendle, it was the release she needed and the attraction she had lost hope of finding. She wanted the real love that her parents had shared, the kind that set off bells and whistles in her heart, and while this wasn’t that, it was definitely lust. She let her body melt against his as they ducked and swung, bent and rubbed.

  The area was cleared too quickly for both of them, and they stopped reluctantly, neither of them moving away as sparks flew.

  Kendle was lost. Even the sand in her shoes felt right. When he placed a kiss on her jaw, she shifted toward him, eyes still shut.

  Moving slowly, the lonely pilot slid his lips to the corner of her mouth for a chaste but erotic kiss that gave her chills of want and drew a moan of frustration when he started to pull away.

  Luke felt the denial, her need, and tilted her head up, sealing their lips.

  It was the sweetest kiss he’d ever had, one to remember a lifetime later, and he leaned back to stare at her, thinking it shouldn’t go any further. Liquid pools of desire stared at him, and Luke forced himself away from her, putting the machete in its case. Would she want that room in town now? A line had definitely been crossed.

  Kendle could still feel his lips against hers, his hardness behind her as they worked together, and she went to the box of tools with an expression of pleasant discovery. It was what she’d been hoping for since high school, and she was a bit stunned that she had found it here and now, and without even searching.

  She glanced up to discover Luke watching her warily, and she blushed. “Sorry. Guess I got carried away.”

  “Me too, darlin’. You’re safe here with me. It won’t happen again.”

  Luke snickered at the protest in her eyes and saw her clamp down on her first response, giving him another smile instead.

  “I know that. If I have to be stranded in paradise, I couldn’t have better company.”

  They let it go, got back to the gardening, but it stayed on their minds.

  Luke became acutely aware of how often her gaze came to him after that. She was young, innocent (despite being a star from California), and he would try to give her time to adjust to the new feelings before taking advantage of her…but time was running out. He could feel it pulling them along, and he wanted to tell her what was in his heart but didn’t, still not sure of what response he might get.

  3

  Not one to wait, fate stepped in. A few hours after their first embrace, they were forced to confront their future directly.

  “Is Miss…Roberts about? I thought I’d take her on a tour of my estate.”

  Luke clamped his jaw shut against his first thought–No, Jackass, not if she has any taste–and used a polite response instead.

  “Hang on, damn it.”

  Spinning away, he slammed the door in the surprised son of a millionaire’s face, hard enough to rattle the frame. Luke longed to order the playboy off his property, but knew he couldn’t. All the island males had come sniffing around (Ethan Kraft the most determined), and though it was her decision to make, Luke couldn’t help the jealousy that filled his heart. Mine! She’s mine!

  “Kendle! Company!” he shouted out the rear door.

  Her soft response made him like her even more.

  “I’m not here.”

  Luke didn’t bother to lower his voice. “Too late. Come say hi to Ethan.”

  “Shit.”

  Luke laughed as she came to the door, muttering about people with more money than brains. He settled in his chair with a drink and a cigar, shamelessly flipping off the record player to listen.

  Kendle yanked the front door open and held it, not inviting Ethan in and not going out. This was the fifth time the snake charmer had dropped by in the last two weeks, becoming increasingly frustrated that none of his power and money mattered to her. He’d finally reached annoying.

  “Hello, Ethan.”

  He blinked at her unfriendly tone and flashed a brilliant smile meant to blind her so that she wouldn’t see the way his eyes crawled up her jeans, scanned her chest, and finally made it to her face.

  “How lovely you are today, Ms. Roberts. I’ve come to sweep you away for that tour I’ve been promising.”

  She held up dusty, gloved hands. “I’m gardening. It’s slow work.”

  She hoped he would take the hint, and she frowned when the tall, curly blond, daddy’s-boy leaned in, almost leering.

  “I could help.”

  “Do what? You ain’t no farmer,” Luke grunted from his chair in the corner.

  Kendle flushed, hoping the snobbish fop hadn’t heard. “Thanks, but I already ran Luke off. It’s very relaxing.”

  Kendle swept the tropical jungle that was alive with life, bushy leaves waving in the soft, warm breeze, and tried not to respond to Ethan’s smug, patronizing tone.

  “You should be resting. Let me take you to my estate on the bay. I’ll pamper you…show you what the red carpet treatment is.”

  “And probably every venereal disease known to mankind,” Luke muttered.

  Kendle couldn’t stop the snicker that mistakenly encouraged Ethan to begin telling her what he would “introduce” her to, like she were some backwards bush-baby he had to tame.

  After a full minute, Kendle found herself getting angry. Didn’t he know who she was?

  “I’ve also got a rock wall that I’ll show you how to climb. It’s the biggest one the company ever made,” Ethan stated arrogantly.

  Luke’s scornful voice echoed loud and clear, “Yeah, forty grand for a wall when he could have climbed these hills for free. Bet Daddy’s real proud.”

  Ethan’s handsome face disappeared behind his scowl and Kendle flushed beet red, embarrassed but struggling not to laugh.

  “You said you’re busy. I’ll come back another day.”

  “Ethan, wait.” She stepped out, but left the door open. “I’m sorry. I know you want to be my...friend, but really, I need more time to myself.”

  He answered, “I should think you would be eager to be with your own kind.”

  Frowning at him, Kendle crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s that mean?”

  The dandy’s expression was eager now, mean, and Kendle suddenly wished she had let him go away mad.

  “It means normal people, Miss Roberts, not an old man who hid here from crimes that he was never punished for. Be careful. You could be in danger.”

  He left before she could think of a response.

  As she came in and shut the door, Luke said, “He’s right. Not about you being in danger, but about my past. I did something awful that cost innocent lives, and I was never charged. I was barely even investigated because of the scandal it would have caused. It was swept under the rug, and I was sent to a new unit in a different part of the world.”

  His voice was careful, expecting the worst, and Kendle listened calmly, hating the Kraft heir a little for Luke’s pain. There was no comparison between the two men, and she liked the fact that Ethan had backed down. It said she was safe with Luke, that he could handle things.

  “I knew it was something like that. How terrible to have carried it for so long. Alone.”

  Surprised by her reaction, or lack of, Luke repeated his words. “He’s right. You should be with your own kind.”

  Kendle sighed, pulling off the dirty gloves. “You are my kind. He can’t understand how it is with us. He only wants me because I say no.”

  Tension invaded the room.

  “How is it with us, Kendle? Tell me, so we’ll both know.”

  Face red and heart thumping, Kendle stared at the floor. “I don’t think we should do this yet.”

  “Too soon?” he asked, trying to steel himself for her words of rejection, despite the kiss he couldn’t stop thinking about.

  “Too awkward. It…may not be what you’re hoping for, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You’d be surprised by how little I’d settle for.”

  His voice was incredibly sad and it stunned her for a moment.

  Luke let out a gentle sigh filled with resignation, as if he knew he wasn’t worthy, and it broke her heart to see the hurt lurking in his face.

  “I understand. I’m content with our friendship.”

  “Really?”

  He bent down to place a soft kiss on her cheek that sent chills into her belly. “Yes. Anything more is up to you.”

  Unsure where the future would take them, Kendle followed her heart. They would take what fate gave them. “I know I don’t want any strings. I haven’t made plans for the future.”

  “And you don’t have to. We’ll keep things like they are.”

  “I’d like to try a little more.”

  Luke’s breath caught at her words. “What do you mean by a little, darlin’?”

  “I want you to follow your feelings, and stop holding yourself back from me. I can handle it.”

  “I hold back out of respect for you and your reputation,” he hedged. It was really the stain on his soul and the feeling of worthlessness that he wore like a cloak.

  “People will think it’s wrong. I’m old enough to be your grandfather.”

  Kendle’s mind flashed to their embrace in the garden, and she shook her head, unknowingly telling him what the male inside had been longing to hear.

  “I don’t care what they think. I don’t see you that way.”

  “How do you see me?”

  Kendle’s face reddened further. “I see an attractive, resourceful man that I’d like to know more…intimately. If you’re interested?”

  Luke pulled her into his arms and this time, when their lips met, he let the man in him have control. He held her with a hand tangled in her short, dark curls and the other on her slender hip as his tongue tasted her.

  He broke the kiss reluctantly, and her lashes fluttered open, gaze full of hazy desire that made him grin. “I’m interested.”

  He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, and she peered up sexily. “How about another?”

  Luke chuckled, body under tight control. “I’ll need an ice shower.”

  Kendle slid her arms around his neck and pressed her soft woman’s curves against him. “No need. I’m not a tease.”

  She kissed his lips softly, gasping softly against his mouth when he slid a hand down her hip to her cheek. As he deepened the kiss, Kendle was swept away, tightening her grip around his neck.

  The wind gusted against his hot skin, and Luke held himself in check as he swelled, wanting to push against her like a horny teenager. He made himself leave her hot embrace.

  “We hafta slow down, darlin’,” he said and put a little more distance between them. “This is one of those moments you can’t get back. You should be sure.”

  “I am,” she protested.

  Luke forced himself to do the right thing. He lied. “I’m not.”

  Kendle’s desire fell under an immediate swell of self-doubt. What was she doing? Acting like a whore came to mind, and she spun away. “Yeah, okay.”

  Embarrassed by her actions, she was gone a second later, and Luke watched with regret, sorry that he’d hurt her but sure it was happening too fast. He wouldn’t be able to stand it if they made love and she was sorry when it was over.

  Kendle was horrified by the way she’d thrown herself at him and she couldn’t stop the hot tears. She told herself she had been treated worse by people she was related to, but the rejection was heavy in her gut as she went to the garden.

  “Stupid,” she muttered, wiping at her face. “Red skin, no hair. No wonder he didn’t want me.”

  “That’s not even close to true.”

  Kendle jumped. “Don’t lie.”

  “I’m not.”

  She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her shirt, “Doesn’t matter. My fault for thinking I could have what I want and not consider how you feel. I put you on the spot, and I apologize. I used to have better manners.”

  “Don’t do that to yourself!” Luke stated sharply, moving toward her. “You did nothing wrong.”

  Her pretty eyes streamed with tears that the sun lit up like sparkling jewels as they rolled down her cheeks. He hated himself for hurting her and for being aroused by her youth.

  “Then why don’t you want–”

  “What? You think I don’t want to make love to you?”

  Flushing scarlet, she didn’t answer.

  When she started to twist away, Luke pulled her around and forced her to listen.

  “I want you so much I dream about it,” he whispered, leaning in to slide his lips along her jaw. “I want to be with you more than any woman I’ve ever known, and the next time you invite me, I’ll do my best to love you the way you deserve.”