He headed up the road toward the big house and with every kilometer his gut tightened more. Part of that was the fact that hed spoken to no one but the villagers for months now; hed been making it a point to lie low and keep to himself. He had no fear that his social graces had gone rusty but he resented being flushed out of isolation. The other part of it was that he dreaded how Kurt would answer his questions. How many more people would be coming to the island, people who might recognize him? How long would they be staying?
Max did not want to leave Brunhia. Kurt had told him about the place when theyd run into each other in a little bar in Cairo in May and the man had dubbed it just the ticket if Max really wanted to drop out. No phones, no televisions, no newspapers. No one in the villagesin Paz or Deus Fornecewere likely to know his name or recognize his face.
But if Amando kept bringing in outsiders, Max thought, then that was going to change. When Kurt had mentioned coming here, hed said nothing about bringing half the continent and America with him.
Max did not want to move on yet. He wasnt ready to go back to the real world. It would start all over againwomen breaking all the rules of decent behavior to become the next Mrs. Strong, paparazzi angling for that one shot, that one photo, that would mark them as The Guy Who Found Max, and his business associates descending on him, both those in his employ and those who wanted to buy from him or sell. His family would catch wind of his whereabouts and theyd start plucking at his nerves again in well-intentioned worry.
His jaw hurt from clenching it. Max forced himself to relax, and then it happened.
The scooter was more difficult to maneuver than the average bicycle, Honey admitted, but she could damned well do this. The trick was in remembering that the steering was a little more exaggerated. She figured that had to do with the fact that the scooter was going a good bit faster than shed ever learned to pedal. Velocity equaled less reaction time so a slight easing on the handlebars more or less put the frustrating little thing into a virtual U-turn.
Honey revved up the throttle a little and grinned as the backlash of wind whipped at her hair. She was just approaching the bend in the road before it straightened out and dove straight for the beach when he was suddenly there, her Portuguese hottie.
They both shouted in the same instant. Honey twisted the handlebars. She forgot that she didnt have to go hard left to avoid him. She forgot that a gentle drift in that direction would have done the trick. When she tore her surprised gaze from his faceand man, what a face!Honey found herself flying headlong at a pile of white rocks.
The front tire of the scooter struck them and she figured she was going to take one hell of a spill. But she was going too fast for the scooter to simply stop with the impact. It went airborne, and she went with it.
Max heard the delicate putter of her smaller bike before he saw her, but even that didnt give him enough time to react. He came around the curve and there she was, headed dead at him. He had no choice but to spill, and to spill fast.
Max leaned his weight hard right. Then the crazy blonde veered to her left and they were still on a collision course. Except she kept going, kept turning. What the hell?
He had an impression of the most incredibly wild hair and a face captivated with so much real and emphatic emotion that for some reason it made him ache inside. Then he was down and the gravel was shearing the skin off his arm and his thigh. His bike zoomed onward on its side, chewing up dirt and sending dust pluming. And the blonde went right over the side of the road. On the bike.
Max had explored the island enough to know that there was a ten-foot drop to the beach on that side. And the beach was as nasty as any he had ever seen in his world travels. It was craggy and rough and wild. Trees grew aslant from between boulders on the way down, angling for life-giving sun.
She was going to get herself killed.
Max forgot all about the fact that he didnt want to be recognized. He forgot that he resented the hell out of all these people landing on what hed come to think of as his island. He launched his bleeding body up from the road and ran after her.
Just as he reached the top of the jumble of rocks on the roadside, he heard her laughter. Laughter? It was a sound like silver bells tinkling, light and airy and genuine, and it froze him just as he was about to leap and no doubt hurt himself even worse.
What the hell are you doing down there? he shouted. He realized that anger was making his voice vibrate.
Hello? she called back.
Max got a grip. Are you hurt?
Hold on!
Hold on for what?
Im checking to see if everything still works. That laughter came again. Im all right but the scooter has seen better days.
Not only did he have a bunch of people descending on the island but at least one of them was certifiable, Max decided.
He began making his way down the cliff with much more decorum than he had originally intended. He no longer felt particularly inclined to play superhero.
That stands to reason, he called down to her. Hold on, Im on my way.
Theres no need she began, then she broke off. On second thought, ouch.
Ouch? She was hurt, he thought. He moved faster. Then he reached the beach.
She was sitting on a boulder, grinning at him. Max felt something deep inside himself start to shake. He told himself it was the aftermath of adrenaline. Throw in a good dose of anger for good measure. That explained it.
But he was arrested by her face.
It hit him again, as it had when shed gone airborne, that hed never seen such real and unrepentant emotion in anyones expression. As though anything life could dish out, including spills over cliffs, was just one more grand adventure for her to savor, experience and chalk up on one side of the line or the other, as a lesson or a hoot. This, Max realized, this whole disaster, seemed to be falling on the side of hoot.
She scraped her hair away from her face. She did have a nasty abrasion on her cheek, he realized. Shed be beautiful without it. Maybe that was why he sat down in the sand in front of her. Beauty should have had him hightailing it back up the cliff as soon as he knew she was basically okay. But abraded beauty didnt quite stir the same panic in him.
Hed have to think about that later. He told himself he just wanted to make sure she was all right.
Someone ought to lock you up in a padded cell. His voice came out in a growl.
Theyve tried. I keep slipping them.
Maxs frown hurt his forehead. A little contrition might be in order here.
What for?
For trying to kill me.
I wasnt trying. It just happened.
Well, luckily we both lived. It struck him that he sounded utterly rigid and pompous, and what was that about? Then he realized that things were still shaking inside him.
He wasnt European, Honey realized. The European part was importantas far removed from her own life as she could get. She had the strong sense that she needed to change everything if she was going to get laid this time. She had to wipe away her constants, her identity, the brackets of her real life. But, by the same token, he made her mouth water. Honey watched him watching her and felt a series of tiny little jitters dance through her blood. No bam-bam-
bams. No rat-tat-tats. Justjitters.
His body was as nice as it had looked earlier from a distance, though he had pulled on a pair of cutoffs over the boxer shorts and he wore a blue mesh tank top now that obscured that delicious chest. His black hair was wind-ruffled, wild, too long. He needed a shave in the worst way, but that just made the jitters pick up speed. His eyes were the color of her fathers favorite whiskeyand they got darker as she watched.
Well, Honey thought, he was building up a good case of temper. Oh, chill out, she told him. No harm done.
Those beautiful eyes of his bugged a little. No harm? Youve ruined that thing beyond repair! He waved a hand at her motor scooter. And look at me! Look at me!
Oh, I was.
To her utter surprise, that tantalizing remark got no reaction from him at all. He was on a roll. I left half my skin up there on the road!
You know, it takes two to tango.
Two to He broke off and started to sputter again. Cute, she thought.
I wasnt the only scooter on that road, she reminded him. You came at me like a bat out of hell.
You were in the middle of the road!
Who was I going to hit? A seagull?
Me!
I traveled that road earlier and there wasnt another living soul on it.
So that means all good sense and traffic regulations go right out the window? Lady, youre a danger to yourself and to mankind.
My, he was angry, Honey thought. He stood abruptly. He was leaving her? He was just going to walk away from her? Men never walked away from her. She fainted or shooed them off, but they didnt walk away.
Honeys jitters took on a whole new rhythm. Slower, unsure, then speeding up again. He has no idea who I am, she realized. He doesnt know Im an Evans and he doesnt know Im rich. He doesnt know I work at the White House or that I drive a Mercedes. He doesnt think Im a tease, a flirt, wild and outrageous, an accident waiting to happen. He just thinks I give validation to all those dumb blonde jokes.
She had to have him.
Not just because of her Portuguese Plan. Because it was too rich, too special, too utterly, incredibly de-pressurized. He had no preconceived notions about Honey, and he had no clue Honor even existed. He was perfect. The air that hit her lungs then was the purest she could ever remember breathing.
I can fix that for you, you know, she said, eyeing his scraped thigh and arm.
Dont you come near me.
I took a first-aid course once.
In the Girl Scouts? he demanded.
Then, too, but I gave up the whole debacle of scouting after the cookie incident.
You never sold Girl Scout cookies. His voice was like a whip now, she thought. They dont let lunatics sell Girl Scout cookies.
Well, yes and no. Honey pushed to her feet. Was he actually inching backward on that rock, trying to keep distance between them? It flabbergasted her, but she recovered nicely. I did sell cookies before they kicked me out.
Ha! he barked. He didnt want to hear the explanation, Max thought. He did not want to know why something as All-American as the scouting organizationwho took everyone might be inclined to decide they didnt want her. What did you do? he heard himself ask anyway.
It wasnt my fault, she murmured, reaching for his arm.
Thats what they all say. Max reared back a little out of reach.
He watched her cross her arms over very nice breasts. Small, but begging for attention. What the hell was he thinking? He didnt want breasts. He was enjoying his celibacy. He was taking a break from the silken talons of women who looked at him and saw dollar signs.
Then it dawned on him that he was having an entire conversation with an American for the first time in months and she hadnt recognized him yet, had no idea who he was. That startled him so much that he actually let her take his arm.
Her touch was a butterfly kiss. There, but not. Gentle, but fleeting. The shaking in his gut that hed finally clamped down on started up again. And that kept his voice rough. What the hell do you think youre doing?
In response, she dropped his arm and headed across the sand toward the sea. As he watched, she whipped her top over her head.
She had a bra on. Something pale yellow. His heart stopped anyway. She was insane. She bent to swish the little white French-cut T-shirt in the surf, then she straightened and turned back to him. Oh, yeah, nice breasts, he thought. Except he wasnt thinking about breasts these days. Max dragged his eyes away from the view. Maybe she did know who he was, he realized. Maybe this was all just some sort of convoluted come-on.
It wont work, he snapped when she came back to him.
She looked startled. Of course, it will. Salt water is amazing. It will keep any infection at bay until you get back to that boat of yours to slop antiseptic all over this mess. You have a first-aid kit on board, right?
She was talking about first-aid kits? In her underwear? I meant the half-naked part.
She looked down at herself. Im not half-naked. I have a swimsuit that puts this to shame. Of course, if I was going to wade in and go swimming, yeah, then I suppose I would be half-naked.
Whats the connection? Max asked before he could remind himself that he didnt want to know. But God, her mind took more loops and turns than a roller coaster. He realized that hed never found out why theyd kicked her out of the Girl Scouts, either.
Its lace. She snapped a bra strap. If it got wet, then I guess, sure, that would be as good as naked.
He was not going to think about this. Normal women dont discuss this sort of thing with strangers.
We almost got killed together. Were not strangers.
I dont know your name, he heard himself say.
She seemed to hesitate. Elise.
Pretty.
Thank you.
Almost as nice as that bra.
Thank you again. Now can I have your arm, or would you rather contract gangrene before you get back to your boat?
How do you know I live on a boat?
I noticed you when Amando and I came in this morning.
Well, Max thought, that makes two of us. He let her take his arm.
I guess if I took my shorts off, too, to deal with that mess on your leg, youd really have a heart attack.
His heart was definitely reacting to such a prospect. Stay dressed.
Its a little late for that.
Im not looking.
Sure you are. You looked three times before I stopped counting. But I dont mind.
He stared deliberately into eyes the color of the sea in the southwest islands to avoid doing it again. Who the hell are you?
I told you. Elise. But you didnt tell me your name.
Max opened his mouth and clamped it shut again. Change the subject, he thought. But she would just dog the subject if she really wanted to know the answer. Better to lie, he decided. Joe, he said, using his brothers name.
Pleas
ed to meet you, Joe.
Dont be offended if I dont return the sentiment.
Ah, come on. Im the best thing thats happened to you all day. She wrapped her sopping shirt around his bicep.
What really ticked Max off was that she was right. I might have twelve Vegas dancers waiting for me in my fore cabin.
If you did, you probably wouldnt have been riding along that dirt road on your scooter all alone, she countered. And you wouldnt be so obsessed with one little yellow bra, either.
He almost grinned before he caught himself. You can knock that off now. He motioned at her shirt with his free hand. I think Im de-germed.
She pulled it away from his arm and plastered it against his thigh.
Ouch!
Be brave, she said, holding it against what was left of his skin.
It stung like hell, worse than his arm, but he sucked it up for a moment. Then he pushed off the rock and stood. I can take care of it from here. Get dressed.
She pulled the top over her head. Wet as it was, it didnt make a damned bit of difference. Happy now?
No. Yes. He stalked off toward the rocks again, then common sense filtered back into his brain along with some of the manners his mother had drummed into him. He looked back at her. Do you need a ride to the house? That scooter of yours isnt going anywhere.
Honey thought about it. On one hand, it was a good excuse to prolong their acquaintance. On the other, she didnt want him anywhere near her home base where Honey and Honor would intrude. He was hers.
You were headed there when we almost hit each other, werent you? she realized.
When you almost hit me.
Honey waved a hand. Semantics.
And I wasnt headed to the big house.
Family Secrets: Books 5-8 Page 49