What did he want?
Who else knew about her?
Mindful of the glass shards at her feet, Dara pivoted slowly. Tony Esposito stood on the other side of the bar. At first glance, five years appeared not to have changed him. Tall and athletic and good-looking, with a gregarious, charismatic demeanor, he’d been a natural as a politician. Now gray flecked his thick black hair and lines creased the corners of his crystalline blue eyes.
“You look incredible,” he said, a hint of genuine admiration in his casual tone. “I was looking forward to our reunion in DC, but coming here seems to have worked out better.” He lifted his chin, acknowledging the exotic setting. “You can fill me in on what you’ve been doing since we last saw each other.”
“You mean since your arrest and subsequent ethics investigation?” The burn of anger was slowly consuming her initial panicked reaction. “What I’ve been doing is trying to build some semblance of a life since you wrecked the one I had.”
“That was a tough time for both of us,” he said.
Fury she’d been denying for five years exploded in the center of her chest. Red tinted the edges of her vision, which had tunneled to focus on Tony. “
“A ‘tough time’? For ‘both of us’? Is that what you really think?” Her voice got louder with each word. “Damn it, Tony! You ruined my life because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants.”
“Calm down, Dara.” Tony glanced around surreptitiously, as if checking who was listening in.
“Calm down?” She was full-on screaming. “You have some nerve, showing up here and then telling me to calm down.” She reached behind her, fumbling for something to throw at him, tears blurring the image of the man she’d loved, the man she’d trusted. The man who’d betrayed her. She grabbed the first thing that fit into her palm and whipped it at him.
“The hell,” he shouted, raising a hand to his forehead where the orange struck him.
“You could pitch for the Yankees if bartending doesn’t work out as a career, young lady.” Despite the humorous statement, Quint’s gravelly voice was humorless. “I’d say you aren’t welcome here, Senator. Oh, that’s right. Ex-senator.”
The solid presence of her friend calmed some of Dara’s anger. She wiped away her tears, body tight with rage.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, struggling to lower her voice. “How did you even find me?”
Glancing between her and Quint, Tony looked genuinely puzzled. “It’s about the proposal.”
“What proposal?” Quint asked, a protective arm curved over Dara’s shoulders.
“You mean you haven’t seen it?” Tony’s brows furrowed, then his jaw clenched. “The proposal Jack Wyatt was sent here over a week ago to present.”
Jack? Proposal? Sent by Esposito?
Tony’s expression shifted, became calculating. He settled onto a stool and folded his arms. “When we didn’t hear from Jack, I figured maybe he needed some help convincing you to accept my offer.”
The ground seemed to shift under her feet. Dara felt like she was standing on quicksand in the middle of an earthquake.
“Wh-what…of-offer?” she stuttered.
Tony smiled, teeth snow-white against the twilight-blue sky. “Come back to D.C. with me and everything can be like it was before.”
CHAPTER 8
“Dara, please listen to me.” Jack tried the doorknob, but the French doors were locked. He peered inside, finding the kitchen and living room empty. The door to the bedroom was closed so she might be home and just not answering. He knocked again. “Let me explain.”
He’d already been to the Soggy Dollar, the school and Quint’s place trying to find her. No one in town had been willing to speak with him, and after last night’s debacle, he didn’t blame them. Not that it mattered though. The only person he needed to talk to was Dara, but she was nowhere to be found.
“Come on, Dara.” He rapped his knuckles against the glass. “I know you’re in there.”
What a mess. What a fucking mess he’d made of things. He rested his head against the windowpane, the cool surface a relief against the headache pounding behind his eyes.
He’d arrived at the bar just in time to hear Esposito invite her back to D.C. with the promise of righting all his wrongs. Between the shocked look on her face and the thunderous look on Quint’s face, Jack realized he was too late. Dara had walked up to him, eyes shimmering with tears, and said, “You knew. All this time you knew who I was and what he did to me. That makes what you did even worse.” The accusation struck him like a lance through his gut. The truth of her words hit fast and sharp, stealing his breath.
She was gone before he’d been able to react.
Quint had made it clear neither he nor Esposito were welcome at the Soggy Dollar. The reception was equally frigid at the Blue Moon Beach House. In a formal tone at odds with his lilting island accent, Bastian notified Jack that he’d made arrangements for him on tomorrow’s flight back to the mainland. After a restless night, Jack had risen at dawn and begun his search for Dara.
He had less than four hours to find her and convince her to hear his side of the story. Not “his side of the story” as in justification of why he hadn’t been forthright with her, but the truth.
The truth was he loved her.
As soon as he’d met her, he recognized the lonely, vulnerable woman behind her carefully erected defenses. He’d read her file and knew what kind of person she had been—warm, outgoing, generous, enthusiastic, affectionate, trusting. Five years after Esposito’s betrayal, the wounds were still raw and Dara had become a woman who was skeptical, withdrawn and afraid. Afraid to commit. Afraid to connect. Afraid to care.
Jack had known as soon as Dara learned who he really was and why he was there, she would revert to the guarded individual he’d first met. The woman who was unwilling to take a teaching position because it might mean caring about her students, who refused to let a stray dog into her home because she might get attached, who insisted on a series of one-night stands to avoid emotional entanglements.
Somehow Jack had been lucky enough that, for the first time in years, Dara had risked trusting him. She’d trusted him and he betrayed her, just like Esposito.
Worse than Esposito.
HE WAS GONE.
Dara tried to ignore the sound of the commuter plane as it took off, the sound slowly receding as it headed west toward the mainland. She should be relieved Jack was gone. She should be angry and hurt. Instead, she was just…empty.
After leaving the Soggy Dollar last night, she’d collected Dude and a change of clothes, and taken refuge with Cedella. She wasn’t sure if Jack would come looking for her, but she wasn’t taking any chances. She’d been through this before—betrayed by the man she loved. Except…except this was different. Tony’s betrayal had robbed her of her dreams. She’d been humiliated and resentful. Jack’s betrayal had stolen her heart. She’d trusted him. More than that, she’d believed in him. In them.
“Ya know, chil’, just because it’s dark don’t necessarily mean it’s night.” Cedella refilled Dara’s coffee mug, returning the enameled pot to the stove. She lowered herself into the wooden chair on the opposite side of the kitchen table and reached for the sugar bowl.
Dara sighed. “I know what you’re trying to say, but it doesn’t matter. Jack and Tony are both out of my life. Permanently.”
Cedella just raised her brows and eyed Dara over the rim of her mug.
“I’m going to get my stuff and head home.” Dara rose. “Thanks for letting me stay here last night.”
Dude scrabbled to his feet and trotted over to the door, his stubby tail wagging.
“Remember what I tol’ ya before? Every day has a sunrise and a sunset.”
“Right. Nothing lasts forever.”
Cedella nodded, satisfied. “Keep remembering that. Things will turn out for ya.”
Dara grabbed her satchel and hugged her friend. “Come on, Dude. Let’s go home.”
>
She took the long way, circling around town to avoid curious stares. Word spread fast on the island, and last night she’d given people plenty to talk about.
She found Quint sitting on her verandah. She walked into his arms and buried her face against his shoulder. He’d been her champion last night, and she was immeasurably grateful for his friendship.
“Come inside?”
“Sure.” Quint waited while she unlocked the French doors then followed her into the bungalow. He pulled a flask and sheaf of papers from his back pocket. “Got a couple of glasses?”
Dara pointed to a cupboard. “In there.”
She sat down and waited. This was new territory for them, dealing with a personal crisis, and she didn’t know what to expect.
“Jack came to see me right before he left.” Quint handed her a glass filled with a couple of inches of amber liquid. “I almost threw a punch when I saw him standing there, and the guy didn’t even flinch. Like he knew he deserved it and was willing to take it.”
She caught a note of reluctant approval in Quint’s voice. She wanted to know more but was afraid to ask.
“I don’t know if you caught it last night, but maybe you did and are wondering about how I recognized former Senator Esposito so quickly. After all, he’s been out of politics for a while.”
“Five years,” she said.
“Yep. Just about the same amount of time you’ve lived on Pequeña Esquina.”
“So you figured it out. I was Tony’s fiancée when a huge scandal broke out. He was accused of financing a prostitution ring with government funds. He implied I was also involved even though the police never filed charges against me.”
“I know.” Quint’s gaze remained steady. “I’ve known who you are and what happened with Esposito since you decided to stay on the island. I have an old friend who’s a detective with the NYPD. I asked him to run a background check on you.”
Dara stared, not sure how to respond to his admission. On the surface, it seemed yet another betrayal except Quint had been a good friend to her. More than a good friend. Almost a father.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked softly.
“Because it didn’t matter,” he replied. “And because it was pretty damn clear you were running away from something. I figured it was your secret so I kept it to myself.”
“Why are you telling me this now?” She knew Quint well enough to tell when he was building up to something.
“Jack came to see me before he left.”
“I know. You already said that.” Dara felt the numbness fading, frustration and confusion filling the empty space inside her.
“Jack Wyatt was a police officer. He resigned six months ago after a fatal shootout with three teenagers. His partner and one of the teens were killed. He left the police force and accepted a job as a private investigator with a high-profile agency in Washington D.C. You were his first case.”
She let the knowledge soak in. It answered many of the questions she’d had about Jack but never asked. Maybe he would have told her the truth about why he’d come to the island if she’d asked those questions.
“Tony Esposito wants his Senate position back, and he’s got support from some folks with deep pockets. After Jack tracked you down through the deed to your property, he was supposed to convince you to return to D.C. to help clear Esposito’s name.”
“And why would I do that?” she asked angrily. “After what he did to me? There’s no way in hell—”
“Would a check in the amount of $500,00 have swayed you?” Quint raised his brows.
“No.” She shook her head. “Not for a million dollars.”
“Even if it meant getting your old job back?” Quint’s smile was grim. “Jack said Esposito has influential backers. Big money and big influence can work wonders.”
“Why didn’t Jack just tell me all this himself?” The lump in her throat made it hard to speak.
“Because I knew it would hurt you all over again.”
Dara whipped her head around at the sound of Jack’s voice. He stood in the open doorway, as if awaiting permission to enter. An electric surge of emotion set her pulse to pounding.
“Thanks, Quint. I’ll take it from here.” Jack stepped into the kitchen, gripping the older man’s hand for a brief handshake.
The urge to rush forward morphed into the impulse to back away. Facing Jack wasn’t one of the scenarios she’d imagined when trying to figure out what her next move was. The week she’d spent with him had changed her. Jack had slowly dismantled the brick wall she’d put up after Tony’s betrayal. She had nowhere to run and hide.
Maybe it was time to stop hiding and start living.
Start loving.
“I’m not here to make excuses,” he said, keeping a bit of distance between them. “You have every right to hate me for what I did. I should have told you who I was before anything happened between us. But I saw what Esposito did to you. How much you lost and how much you changed because of him. Offering you his deal seemed like a slap in the face, but I told myself it might give you a chance to get back some of what he’d stolen from you. Except, every day we were together you seemed happier, more open, less afraid. I didn’t want to lose that.” Jack swallowed hard. “I didn’t want to lose you.”
Dara cringed, waiting for the painful burn of scorching anger, the same anger that had consumed her following Tony’s betrayal. Hearing Jack admit he’d deceived her when she’d trusted him hurt. A lot. But there was something else, another emotion tempering the anguish.
“Don’t be mad at Quint for setting you up like this.” Jack closed his eyes and wearily rubbed his forehead. “I just wanted a chance to finally tell you the whole truth. And to apologize. You’ll never know how sorry I am.”
He gave her a final heartbreaking look and pivoted toward the door.
“How sorry?” Her voice cracked.
“What?” Jack stopped but didn’t turn to face her.
“How sorry are you?” She slid out of the chair and walked around him until they were face to face. “Making up for something like this could take a long, long time.”
“I’m afraid to guess what you’re trying to tell me, Dara. Half-truths, lies of omission and less than candid conversations have only caused us problems.”
Dara closed the space between them and wound her arms around Jack’s waist. Rising on tiptoe, she pressed her mouth to his, moaning when he threaded his fingers through her hair and deepened the kiss.
The embrace, her tears and their kiss said everything that needed saying.
EPILOGUE
Dara ran a hand over Jack’s ridged abdomen, smiling to herself in the dark when his breath hitched. She’d discovered he was especially ticklish along his sides and she couldn’t resist teasing him. They had a lot to learn about each other, but she relished the prospect. Now that there were no secrets between them, she was impatient to learn everything about him.
“I really thought I’d never see you again,” Jack said.
She snuggled closer to him, drawing the sheet up over them. The movement dislodged Dude who resettled himself at their feet.
“I thought the same thing,” she admitted. “It seemed like the situation with Tony all over again, except I wasn’t angry. I finally realized I was hurt and disappointed, but what you’d done didn’t change how I felt about you.”
“And how do you feel about me?”
“I already told you,” she said, another smile curving her lips.
“Tell me again. And then again.” A huge sigh expanded his chest. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Dara. But I’ll do everything I can to earn back your trust.”
“I love you, Jack. You already have my trust.” She blinked away happy tears.
“Do you remember that tarot card reading Cedella did for me?” Jack began stroking Dara’s breast, distracting her.
“I can’t remember anything when you’re touching me like that,” she murmured, twisting to slid
e her leg between his.
“She said I would have to give up something to find the treasure. She meant you. Just in case it matters, I’d be willing to give up my PI job to stay here on the island with you. Maybe Quint can use another bartender at the Soggy Dollar.”
“Maybe.” She nuzzled his jaw.
“I also remember the final card I drew was Justice. Something about balance and karma and what you put out into the universe will come back to you.” Pulling Dara on top of him so they could look into each other’s eyes, Jack whispered, “I ended up with the most incredible woman in the world and Tony didn’t. That is the best justice of all.”
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More Solace of Secrets stories coming soon!
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Worth the Trouble
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Worth the Wait
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
EmKay Connor is the author of sexy, sassy contemporary romantic fiction infused with quirky humor and engaging characters. Her bright and breezy romances are set in tropical locations and glamorous destinations where her heroes and heroines discover passion and fall in love.
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An exuberant and outgoing type who doesn't do well with just a desk and a computer for company, EmKay is a participant of several critique groups. She is a founder and alumni of Pro-SAC (PRO-Seeking Authors Commit), a page-producing work group headquartered at the Mira Mesa Panera in San Diego, CA.
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She is a member of Romance Writers of America and numerous RWA chapters, including RWA-San Diego, Passionate Ink and RWA Kiss of Death. A firm believer in paying it forward (and backward and sideways), she has served as president, vice president, secretary, newsletter editor, workshop presenter and committee chair at the local and national level.
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Her manuscripts have finaled and won numerous contests, including Spring Into Romance, The Unpublished Beacon and RWA's prestigious Golden Heart.
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