“I have nothing to say to you. Please leave.”
“I had to find you, Louisa. To tell you,” he said, “to tell you I’m…sorry.”
She stared at him.
He was sorry.
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” she said coldly. “I’m glad you forced me to quit. My life now is exactly what it should be.” After she’d fled Istanbul, she’d returned to Miami, where she’d been stunned to discover Katie was a widow, living in a mobile home and barely able to support her five-year-old daughter. They’d hugged and cried in each others’ arms. Now, they were sisters again. They were a family. Louisa lifted her chin. “You did me a favor.”
He looked at her ruefully. “I did?”
Louisa nodded coldly. She’d used her savings to start this bakery on Key West, a place she’d visited long ago. This bakery wasn’t just a family business, it was a labor of love. Even her little niece, who was now in first grade, helped out. The two sisters worked here during the day, and lived upstairs with their children in a small apartment above the bakery.
She had the perfect life now. She had her family, a successful business she loved and friends on this island. And if she still sometimes dreamed of Rafael, hot dreams of longing in the night—well, what of that? She didn’t want him. She was better off without him!
Rafael looked at her. His eyes were as deep and dark as the Caribbean at midnight. He shook his head. “Ever since you left Istanbul, I’ve regretted my behavior that day. I never should have let my suspicions get the better of me.”
“Forget it,” she said shortly.
“I cannot.” He looked at her regretfully, then with a sigh, he clawed back his dark hair. “I accused you of trying to get pregnant with my child. You! Of all women on earth, I should have known you would not do such a thing!”
She surreptitiously glanced back at the room where their baby was sleeping. She heard the soft snuffle of Noah’s heavy breath. He would be hungry and waking soon. Katie had gone to pick up her daughter from school, but any moment now she’d be back to take her turn working the counter.
Her interfering, well-meaning sister would no doubt be thrilled to see Rafael. Curse her.
“Forgive me,” Rafael said humbly, bowing his head. “I am sorry for how badly I treated you.”
She heard her baby shift in his playpen, heard his snuffle as he started to wake up.
“I forgive you,” she said abruptly.
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” She had to get Rafael out of her bakery—fast. She moved behind the counter, using fresh tongs to pick up some of her caramel brownies, the most popular item at the bakery, and put them in a white bag. “Here,” she said. “Take these as a peace offering. On the house.”
“Thank you.” He took the bag, but he did not leave as she’d hoped. Instead he hesitated, propping the bag on the side counter as he slowly looked around the shop. “It’s a beautiful store.”
“Thanks,” she said unwillingly.
“How did you end up here? At this remote island?”
Not remote enough, she thought, looking at him. “My sister was still living in Miami with her daughter. Her husband had died the year before.”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I just heard about that.”
“Right.” Matthias Spence, the handsome, wealthy older man the Grey sisters had once fought over, had died of a heart attack shortly after the government had seized his remaining fortune for milking his investors in a money-making scheme. “But we’re all doing fine now.”
“Really?” he said softly.
“Yes,” she ground out. Except she was going to kill Katie for sending Rafael the flyer. Her sister had been pestering her for the last year to tell Rafael about Noah. Louisa folded her arms. How could Katie have gone behind her back like this?
“I’m glad you’re doing well,” Rafael said in a low voice. “You deserve to be happy.”
“Yes.” But her success came at a price. Between caring for the baby and the bakery, Louisa only slept six hours a night at most. She was so tired. So, so tired. And Rafael looked more devilishly handsome than ever, well-rested and well-groomed in his black button-down shirt and slim-fitting jeans. “We work hard,” she said. “Matthias left nothing to my sister. The bakery needs constant attention, as do the children.”
“Children?” he asked.
Louisa bit her tongue, furious at her mistake. But before she could come up with an explanation, the bell chimed at the door.
“Sorry I’m late.” Her sister came in with her niece, who was carrying a backpack and several large sheets of artwork. “The line at the school was so long. It seems all the parents wanted to pick up their kids today…Oh.” She stopped, staring at Rafael. “Hello.”
Louisa glared at her. “Look who dropped by for a visit. My old boss.”
Katie had the audacity to smile and hold out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Cruz.”
“Call me Rafael.”
“Rafael.”
Behind them, Louisa simmered with fury. Then she jumped when she heard her baby give a soft mewling whimper from behind the office door. She glanced at Rafael, but by some miracle, he hadn’t heard it. Yet.
“I think I’ll give him a quick tour around the island,” Louisa interrupted abruptly. She looked at Rafael. “Would you like that?”
He looked startled, but instantly said, “Yes.”
Louisa untied her apron. “Take over the counter for me, Katie. Feed the little one with what I left in the fridge.” She gave her sister a hard look. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Looking abashed, her sister nodded. Katie would make sure to feed Noah some of the milk she’d left in the fridge.
Hanging her apron up on a hook, Louisa came around the counter. Kicking off her sturdy shoes and shoving her feet into flip-flops, she pulled out her bun and shook out her hair, letting it tumble down her bare shoulders over her tank top. “Have you seen Key West?”
“No,” he said, looking at her shoulders and hair. His gaze lifted slowly from her chest to her neck to her lips to her eyes. “When my plane landed, I came straight here.”
“You’re in for a treat,” she said grimly. “Come with me.”
Rafael couldn’t stop looking at her.
Louisa had changed so much in sixteen months, he thought. How much had changed? Her hair? Her face? Her clothes? Yes, but it was more than that.
For the last year and a half, when he’d dreamed of Louisa, he’d pictured her either naked or in a gray shapeless skirt suit, wearing black glasses over her pale skin with her brown hair pulled back into a tight bun.
This new Louisa looked nothing like the tight, prim, aloof housekeeper he remembered.
Now, her face was tanned, bringing out the natural beauty of her bare face. He could see the intense color of her eyes in the sun. Her lips were deep pink. Her hair no longer was pulled back into the tight bun, but now fell down her shoulders, highlighted by the sun into the color of dark honey. She’d put on a few pounds in all the right places. His eyes traced the shape of her body beneath the aqua-colored tank top and madras shorts. What was different?
Color, he realized. She was in color.
She’d