Then why did she feel so horrible? It was probably because Uncle Jasper and Pirate Island were the two most stable elements in her life. Since Katherine had turned six, she’d spent every summer with Jasper at the campground. On high school breaks she’d led the children’s programs.
Between her mother’s ventures in and out of matrimony and the corresponding upheavals in all their lives, Katherine had clung to Pirate Island as if it were a lifeline. Now, she was cutting it.
The thought made her sick.
From her disappointing relationship with her father to her publicly humiliating divorce, Katherine’s luck with men had been the pits. The only exception was Uncle Jasper, who’d taught her to fish, encouraged her to go to college, and taught her the value of honesty and stability.
She sighed, wishing there was another way.
“Bad news?” Al asked from behind her.
He moved closer, watching her turn away and give her cheek a surreptitious wipe. “Why didn’t you knock?”
“I did. You must not have heard me.” Alex hesitated, wondering what to do. He’d dealt with teary females before, but in his experience, women usually cried in order to get something. Specifically they cried when they found out he wasn’t going to marry them, and they weren’t going to be the next princess of Moreno.
Katherine, however, appeared genuinely upset, and that bothered him. “You’re upset. What do you need?”
She shook her head and forced a cheerful expression on her face. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
Alex narrowed his eyes. “If it’s nothing, then why is your lip quivering?” He reached a hand to her face.
“You’re very observant,” she murmured, moving to the other end of the small office.
“Yes. You didn’t answer my question.”
She made a sound that was half exasperation and half laughter. “You’re also pushy.”
“Persistent,” he corrected. “What’s wrong?”
Katherine rolled her eyes. “It’s none of your business.”
He frowned. No one had ever said that to him. Not his mother, not even Isabella. Katherine Kendall was an irritating feminine puzzle. She’d reluctantly taken him in but kept her distance during the last week. And though she didn’t trust him, she was beginning to rely on him. He was making damn sure of that.
He was curious about her. The way the campground children followed her around as if she were the Pied Piper. She gave smiles away for free, hugs as if they were pennies.
To everyone but him.
He minded being excluded from her smiles, hugs and everything else. He noticed the way she used her petite body carelessly, as if she thought there was nothing sensual about the way she walked, but he sensed something simmering beneath the surface. Her slim waist and full breasts made him want to wrap his hands around her, touch her silky skin, learn her secrets. When she talked, sometimes he got hard just watching her mouth.
And if she knew what he was thinking, he’d be on the next ferry out of here. For the first time in his life Alex wanted something he’d never wanted from a woman. If only for the remainder of this month, he wanted possession of the mind, body and soul of Katherine. His obstacle was that the lady didn’t trust him.
Patience had never been his long suit. He moved forward. Katherine took a matching step away. He stopped. “Why do you do that?” he asked.
She curled her hands around the edge of the desk. “Do what?”
“Move away as if you’re afraid I’ll attack you.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Do I do that? I, uh, I didn’t realize.” She pushed back her bangs and jammed her hand into the pocket of her pink cotton shorts.
“Are you afraid of me?”
“No! Of course not,” she said quickly, but the silence stretched between them.
“No?”
Katherine sighed, then said reluctantly, “This is embarrassing. I don’t know you, but I feel like I should. You remind me of someone, but I can’t remember who.”
For a second he froze, wondering if she’d seen a publicity photo of him. He forced a casual shrug. “Someone you knew when you were young?”
“No,” she admitted.
Alex wondered at the sudden color in her cheeks. “Is it my face?”
She looked trapped. “Yes, your face and your…”
“My what?”
“Your eyes.”
“And?”
Maybe if she said it out loud, the strange feeling would go away. “And your body. It’s ridiculous. I know. It’s insane, but I have this feeling that I’ve known you…” She lifted her hands, searching for the word she couldn’t bring herself to say. And there was no way on God’s green earth she’d tell him about the music.
Alex smiled. “Intimately.”
“But we both know it’s not possible,” she went on quickly, not liking the satisfaction she heard in his voice. “I’ve never met you. You’ve never met me. It’s just—”
He touched her, and her mile-a-minute denial cut off. Her vocal cords jammed. He cupped her chin, gently encouraging her to meet his gaze, and Katherine knew she was in major-league trouble.
“If I had met you, mon amie, I couldn’t have forgotten. Perhaps we met in another life.”
“I, uh, I don’t really believe in reincarnation,” she managed breathlessly.
“Neither do I.” His face grew serious. “But there are other ways—dreams, fantasies.”
Katherine squished her eyes shut, fighting his words and the images he provoked. “I don’t have a lot of time for dreams or fantasies.”
“Fantasies make time for themselves.”
He wrapped his warm hand around her waist, and she thought she’d faint. Oh, God, she didn’t want to make a fool of herself. She’d done such a good job of it before. She clenched her jaw.
“I dreamed of you,” he said. “I dreamed I tasted your smile. I made love to your mouth for a day and a night, because I couldn’t stop. Then I brought you so close, there was nothing between us.”
Keeping her eyes closed, she felt him lower his head, felt his warm breath, got dizzy over his heat and strength. The melody began again, so sweetly it hurt. She waited, dreaded, wished.
His mouth barely whispered against hers in an openly erotic touch that coaxed and threatened and sent her pulse into triple time. She saw herself falling down deep into a well that never ended. No safety net. No coming back.
It scared her spitless. Katherine jerked back, her eyes flying open. “No!”
“No?” he repeated, as if he were unfamiliar with the meaning of the word.
“N-o-o.” She drew it out so he wouldn’t miss it, and she was beginning to think she needed some practice with that word herself. She was going to need ice for the burn marks where he’d touched her. “This weird feeling will go away,” she insisted. “It’s not real, and we don’t need to act on it.”
“Not real.”
Her insides still felt like a five-alarm fire. “Exactly. It’s good that we both understand. It’s perfectly clear.” Clear as mud, she thought. Without