She carried trays off to the other guests. Mr. and Mrs. Nesser, an older couple, seemed to regard the storm as an adventure. They loved the hot soup, held hands, and she was pretty sure they planned to spend the rest of the evening in bed together. It was nice to see the romance hadn’t gone out of their long marriage. Sighing, Karen headed to the next guest. Juilet Sparrow was too busy taking video of the storm to even think about food and waved her off, but Ted Gunderson looked pale and ready to expire of fright at any second. He kept her with a hundred questions about their safety. When she finally had him calmed down, she leaned against the wall and put a hand to her face.

  Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the storm just swept the hotel away. She was close to giving up. Her folks hadn’t taken out enough insurance to cover the damage from the last storm, and the insurance company had been more than slow to pay.

  Now she had a looming payment on the debt she’d been stupid enough to fall for as well—thank you for nothing, Lyle—and her school loans, and this storm was going to put another hole in her budget with more repairs and a fewer guests for a time.

  She shook her head. Maybe the smart thing would be to sell, but if she did that now, she’d take a loss. And she’d be failing her parents. They’d loved this place. She wanted their lives to have meant something—to have stood for something.

  She thought about the offer that ‘Pops’ Warner had made her. It had been an outrageous proposal. “Marry me! You could go back to school and come home on the weekends or something.”

  She’d almost laughed. Pushing sixty, Pops had already buried two wives and divorced two others. He kept his hair determinedly black and liked to wear tropical shirts that hung open to show off his tan—and wrinkled chest. He’d wiggled his eyebrows and winked at her. “All you’ll have to do is keep up with your wifely duties. If you know what I’m saying?”

  She’d turned him down, trying to be as nice as she could. But no way was she jumping from one fire to the next. Lyle had put her off men in general and smooth-taking, charming men in particular. She wasn’t falling for that white knight act again. No way.

  Heading back to the kitchen she found Mike washing dishes. She just about fell over. He glanced at her, a dish towel over his shoulder. “What is it now?” he asked.

  Numb, she shook her head. “Nothing. Just not used to guys who clean up after themselves.”

  He waved at the table. “Sit. Eat. I’ll do my impression of a Jewish mother and tell you that you need some meat on your bones.”

  She glanced down at herself. “What’s wrong with my meat or my bones?”

  He grinned. “Not much. Hungry?” Wiping his hands, he sat at the table. He’d served up two bowls that still steamed, scenting the air with oregano and other spices.

  The man himself looked good enough to eat. The coveralls did everything to show off lean, muscular perfection.

  Sitting at the table, he dug into the soup and asked, “So how long is this big blow going to last?”

  She shrugged and tasted the soup. Flavors exploded in her mouth. She had to resist the urge to give a moan. “Why—you worried about missing a football game?”

  He grinned. “There was a time football was just that big a deal for me.”

  “Don’t tell me—star quarterback in high school, right? Complete with the cheerleaders hanging onto you.”

  “It was college and I was heading for the big league. And then…” He let the words trail off and shrugged. “Life changes. And I blew out my knee.”

  She stared at him. “You telling me this to get out of work?”

  He shook his head. “Doesn’t take a knee to swing a hammer. But I tell you—I do miss the game. Nothing as good as competing, putting your body on the line. The noise.”

  “The girls?” She tipped her head to the side. “Sounds to me like you just figured out you’re getting older.”

  He gave her that easy smile, the one that lit up his eyes and warmed her from the inside out. “Older and better. Big brother just got married, and he’s finally…finally let loose the reins of our company. As for girls…honey, it’s just me and my dog. Of course, Zach has my dog out at the ranch and—”

  “Ranch? What—like in cattle?”

  “Think more dude ranch and a place for kids to get out of the city and away from gangs. My sister-in-law’s running most of that show.”

  She propped her elbows on the table and sipped her wine. The roof rattled, but she could hear the wind dying down. “Why are you out here, Mr. New York? You didn’t look dressed for a vacation.”

  He grimaced. “Business, ma’am. And I could swear the weather reports said this storm was going to cut north and miss these islands.” He glanced up. “At least it sounds like it’s settling down.”

  Finishing her wine, she picked up their empty soup bowls. “That’s what you get for trusting the weather service. As for settling—we now get the other side of it.”

  He stared at her. “It’s a damn hurricane?”

  She smiled. “No, they get hurricanes in the Caribbean. In the Pacific it’s a cyclone or a tropical storm. And, yeah, we’re going to get to set up and keep an eye on the place.”

  “Oh, joy,” he muttered.

  She made coffee. The Nessers didn’t answer the knock on their door—as expected. Juliet took the coffee and offered back a bright smile, and Ted now looked a little green. She advised him to take something to help him sleep, assured him the hotel had survived far worse storms, and headed back to the kitchen.

  She found Mike with his feet up on the table and coffee in his hands. “Do we take turns taking watch or just sit up all night?”

  Pulling up a chair next to his, she shrugged. “You’re welcome to get some sleep. I’m staying up.”

  With a nod, he rose, lifted his coffee and said, “See you in the morning, boss.”

  Without Mike around, the kitchen seemed colder—far more empty than it should. He’d filled up with room, and she had to admit it was easier to ride out the storm with someone else. She listened to the hotel groan, the boards sounding like the nails were pulling out and a distant banging of debris hitting something. The winds seemed stronger and for a minute she wondered if the place was going to make it. She heard the tearing of wood, and one of the boards ripped off the back window. “Dammit,” she muttered.

  She was smart enough not to go out in that storm alone. Her parents had—or her father had and he’d been swept away. Her mom had unwisely gone after him. She wasn’t taking those kinds of risks. Heading to Mike’s room with a lamp, she knocked on his door. He didn’t answer, so she opened the door and shouted, “Hey, handyman. Could use a hand here!”

  Covers rustled. She lifted the lamp.

  Mike sat up in his bed, the covers falling to his waist. Miles of bare skin glowed in the lamplight. The man had sinful muscles and hard planes that left her mouth hanging open and her heart thudding. She shut her mouth, swallowed, and tried for a firm tone. “Could use your help.” She was sure her voice sounded far too husky.

  He pulled a bare leg out from the covers—and she realized he was naked. Resisting the urge to keep looking, she turned. A minute later he came to his door, zipping up his coveralls. “What’s up?”

  “Board came loose. I don’t want to go out there alone.”

  Frowning, he stared at her. “Hell, no.”

  He strode for the kitchen and she followed. They’d left the hammers, nails, and spare boards in the kitchen. He grabbed a hammer and started for the back door, but she grabbed his arm. His skin still seemed warmed by sleep—and the hairs on the back of his arms tickled her fingers. But she hung on. “Let me.”

  He shook his head. “I’m going out. You keep the lamp on and lifted so I can see.”

  She didn’t let go of him. “My…my dad went out in the last storm.”

  His crooked grin lit his face. “It’s going to take more than a wind to knock me down. Didn’t I tell you I played quarterback—I’m used to way too many guys trying to take me out.”

  She pulled in a breath and grabbed the lamp. “Hurry.”

  He fought the door open. Rain swept in, cold and stinging. Darkness covered the world, making it seem a deep void, empty of everything except that howling wind. Karen wet her lips and tasted the salt water. Pushing outside, Mike fought his way to the fallen board. He hefted it up and Karen tried to shield the light from the wind. He got the board in place, pounded it back and staggered to her.

  The wind kept pushing at him, trying to drag him away from the hotel.

  She put the lamp down and had the wind snuff its light. Working more by feel, she grabbed Mike’s arm and dragged him in with her. Wet now, shaking, they both struggled to close the door against the push of the wind.

  Finally, it latched.

  Karen leaned against the door. It wobbled under her as if the wind was trying to get back in and grab them again. She shivered and closed her eyes, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

  “Thanks.” She heard him mutter the word and turned to face him.

  She had to look up, but his face seemed just inches from hers now. He seemed warm and solid next to her. Another gust shook the kitchen and Karen jumped.

  Mike slipped his arm around her waist and gripped her side tightly.

  She shivered again. She should move away—put some distance between herself and this stranger. But she didn’t want to.

  He felt solid—and safe. She closed her eyes for a second and leaned into him. Just a few seconds. She could feel his heart beating just as fast as hers. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, he stood so close.

  The wind gusted again, battering. Karen jumped. Mike pulled her up against his body even more. His other hand wrapped into her hair and he pulled her head back so that she had to look up at him. He wrapped her up in his bare arms. She was suddenly panting for air as she looked up at him. But the world—that dreadful howling wind and the storm—faded into the background.

  Bending down, he touched his lips to hers. She’d never been kissed like this—just a sweet touch of his lips, a lick of his tongue. She tasted of salt water and something else…something she liked. She gave another shudder, but not from the cold, and parted her lips to pull in a breath of him.

  Pulling back, she let out that breath. “While I appreciate your help, I can take care of myself.” She backed a step away. “You need to keep your hands to yourself.”

  Even in the dark room, she saw his grin flash. “Honey, you should know better than to challenge a guy who likes challenges.”

  Before she could say another thing he’d swept her up in his arms again. This time his mouth descended on hers. He stole her breath—and her will. He swept in all charm and warmth and power. His arms wrapped around her tighter and he pulled her up against him. His tongue swept across her upper lip. She gasped and he pushed into her mouth. She could feel his nipples harden through their damp clothing. She gave a groan and gave up.

  She didn’t know how long they stood there, only that it seemed to last forever. He cradled her face with his broad palms, his body pressed against hers, and finally he pulled back. Breathless and panting, he told her, “Still want me keeping my hands to myself?”

  She pushed against his chest. He stepped back but she knew she wasn’t pushing him. She jabbed a finger into his chest. “Do that again and you will be sleeping outside.”

  Turning, she headed out of the kitchen and for her own room.

  There was no way a guy who could kiss like that was ever the settling down type. He’d kissed her like he knew just how to kiss a woman. She had to remember she didn’t need a guy like that around. She’d had one before and she knew they didn’t stay—and they didn’t keep their hands and the rest of their body out of trouble. She was not getting mixed up with him. No… never again.

  Chapter Four

  Karen make her way to her room. She shut the door, put her back against it, and let her head fall against the wood. She touched her fingers to her lips and slowly slid to the floor. Her mouth still trembled from the electricity that had swept through her from that kiss. She couldn’t explain it, except no one had ever kissed her that way before. That guy was tempting her to throw away her sensible rules for a not very sensible fling.

  Taking a deep breath she pulled herself up and decided that what she really needed was a few hours of sleep. The sun would be up soon and then she could see how much damage the hotel had taken. Peeling out of her wetsuit, she pulled on a light T-shirt and sweat pants. She lay on top of her covers, but her mind kept slipping back to Mike—to that kiss, to how good he smelled, to how strong he’d felt. She could use a pair of shoulders like his to lean on—trouble was, he wasn’t here to stay and she knew better than to hook up with guests. Even the kind who paid for their stay with work.

  ***

  The quiet woke her. She blinked and stared up at the white ceiling. Somehow, she’d fallen asleep. She stretched, got up and changed into khaki shorts and one of her better short-sleeve shirts—her usual uniform for the hotel. Her room seemed warm and stuffy already—great, the air conditioning and electricity were still out.

  She headed for the kitchen to put coffee on and start breakfast for the guests—at least she could feed them. Opening the back door, she glanced around.

  Seneed’s minivan sat in the yard, a splash of yellow amid the torn up palm leaves and debris. She gave a wave. “Hey, Seneed. How’d your place survive?”

  Tan, her dark hair a waterfall that fell down her back, Seneed grinned, her green eyes bright. “Bula, Karen. And not bad. Got a package for you. It looks like something your dad might have ordered. It’s the last delivery we’ll have from the ferry for a time. Jeff says it’s gonna take two weeks before they get it working again.” Seneed grinned. “Looks like we’re gonna get some beach time unless they fly stuff in. You gotta pen so you can sign?”

  “Yeah. Hold on.” Karen made her way back inside and got a pen from the drawer. She should have known. Seneed never had a pen – ever.

  Karen signed for the package and Seneed gave a nod. “Hey, I got another batch of fruit for you, too.” She hefted a box of guavas and mangos into Karen’s arms and put the package on top. “Enjoy your time off.”

  “Vinka Vakelevu, Karen!” Seneed said, giving the traditional Fiji thanks. With a wave, she climbed back in her van and took off, throwing up dirt from the road.

  Karen glanced around. The storm had mostly thrown up debris—kelp, battered wood, plants. It’d take a couple of days to clean up. The pool looked like it had taken the worst of it, with sand swept into it. And the roofs on some of the smaller guest huts were trashed. She let out a breath. Could have been worse. Much worse.

  She was curious to see what was in the smaller package. Her heart gave a small twist to think this might be the last gift from him ever.

  Leaving the fruit in the kitchen, she headed to her room and sat the box down on her bed. Opening it, she found a small white box, and inside that a gold locket. She cracked it open and her eyes filled with tears. The locket held a picture of her parents, standing next to each, posing for their wedding day. She knew the picture well—a large version sat on her office desk. She turned it over to read the inscription.

  To the light in my life. You are what makes my world turn. Love Roger

  Her eyes stung and she had to sniff back salty tears. She pressed the small locket to her heart. Her parents had had a love that you usually only found in movies. They’d lived their lives for each other. Her dad must have ordered this for her mom months and months ago—a custom-made gift. Given the difficulty getting anything shipped here, it had arrived too late.

  Wiping her nose, she put the locket back into its box. She had no idea what she’d do with it. She doubted it was worth all that much, but if things got really bad she might have to end up selling everything.

  Lyle had once promised she could repay him on her own time, but that promise had been as false as all of his others. Well, she was done with guys like him—rich boys who thought the world was theirs for the taking. Tucking the box away, she headed back to the kitchen.

  She saw Mike was up—and already at work outside, taking down the boards and pulling open the shutters. Karen busied herself with fresh fruit, rolls, butter and coffee for breakfast. She set everything out in the main room—guests could serve themselves whenever they wanted to eat.

  Back in the kitchen she caught Mike stacking the boards. She thought it was unfair that anyone could look as good as him this early. With his dark hair rumpled and the coveralls outlining his chest, he looked more like he belonged here than she did.

  She figured she might as well give him the bad news right away. “Ferry’s out—couple of weeks by the sound of it.” He straightened and stared at her. She brushed her hair back and then fidgeted with a button on her shirt. “Coffee?”

  “Weeks? Did you say weeks?” His stare didn’t waver.

  Karen moved to the stove and poured two cups of coffee. “Hope you take it black.” She pushed one cup at him.

  He took it from her and stared at it, frowning. Looking up, he asked, “What about the phones? A computer? Something that would let me get some cash and a flight out of here. Please say you have some kind of civilization.”

  Karen lifted one shoulder. “Hopefully we’ll get power back today. Don’t know about anything else. Depends on how bad the other islands got hit and what they need to get done to get things working.”

  He huffed out a breath. “Mind if I at least look at your generator?”

  She waved a hand at the back door. “Help yourself. But I’m pretty sure we need parts to fix it.”

  Taking a deep breath, and muttering under his breath, he headed out the back door. She decided she needed to get him something to wear other than those ratty coveralls. She still had some shorts and shirts that Dad had ordered for what he’d hoped would be an expanded hotel staff. Heading to the storage room, she dug out something that looked like it might fit Mike and came back to the kitchen to leave it folded on the table for him.