Seeing her there, on that bed, aroused a storm of emotions so violent Sylvester was helpless to withstand them. For the first time in his life, he acted without thinking. Going over to the bed, he sat on its edge and gazed down at Connie’s face. He took in her look of shock, the signs of her recent tears, but his eyes lingered most on the soft invitation of her parted lips. Taking her face between his hands and smoothing a few stray strands of hair away from her cheeks with his thumbs, Sylvester bent his head and succumbed to the impulse that had been tempting him since he’d first seen her.

  The initial pressure of his lips on hers scorched him, burning its way from the mild connection of their mouths into his bloodstream and sizzling through to his groin. One touch and he was iron hard. It was exactly the effect he knew she would have on him.

  Powerless to resist, he deepened the urgency, snaking his tongue between her parted lips. Connie’s response was instant, her hand coming up to clasp the back of his neck, drawing him closer. The heat that had existed between them since the first moment they’d met grew and intensified so they were caught up in their own shimmering maelstrom. Minutes flew by in an exchange of crushed lips and exploring tongues.

  Triumph surged through him. This. How long had his body been waiting to feel like this again? This tumultuous half pleasure, half pain sensation? It felt like his very soul was burning up in the violent flames of the passion that melded them together. The ache and sorrow that had been pent-up inside him for so long, the same feelings he had seen reflected in Connie’s eyes just now, were ashes in the scorching desire that screamed at him for release.

  Consumed by his need for more, Sylvester reached for the buttons at the front of her blouse, his fingers uncharacteristically clumsy. Tugging aside the lacy cup of her bra, he covered her breast with his hand. Her flesh was so soft, so incredibly sweet to touch, like cushioned silk. As he rubbed his thumb over her nipple, Connie moaned into his mouth. The soft, insistent sound brought him back to reality with something resembling a thud. What the hell was he thinking?

  Breaking the kiss, he sat straighter, trying to ignore the look of hurt in her eyes.

  “That wasn’t meant to happen...”

  Before he could say anything more, she jumped up from the bed, clutched her blouse closed with one hand and raced out of the cottage.

  Muttering a curse, Sylvester ran after her. She was moving fast, but he caught up with her on the other side of the bridge.

  “Let me explain.”

  Connie kept her eyes downcast as she buttoned her blouse. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be easy, particularly as he couldn’t tell her the truth.

  “I can’t get involved with anyone right now.”

  “Okay.” The word came out stiffly. Still not looking at him, she started to walk away.

  Sylvester caught hold of her upper arm, turning her to face him. It was a mistake. Touching her was always going to be a mistake. As soon as his fingers connected with her flesh, that electricity was there, urging him to do more, to move his hand, to stroke the soft flesh of her inner arm with his thumb...

  He released her and gazed down into those sherry-brown eyes. “You don’t understand.”

  “I think I do. You believe I’m here for a share of your money. That makes me a gold digger, right? But what better way to ensure I get the biggest prize of all than to exploit this attraction between us? Or are you going to deny there is an attraction between us?”

  He could tell how hard it was for her to make this little speech. Confrontation was not her style. She waited, and he shook his head in response to her questions.

  “You think I’m out to snare you, instead of waiting it out to get my portion of the inheritance. You couldn’t be more wrong about me, Sylvester. I don’t want your money. Unlike the others, your proposition is not the reason I chose to stay on Corazón.”

  “You don’t need to explain yourself to me.” The pain in her eyes tugged at his heart.

  “You’re right, I don’t. Which is why I’m not playing this game of yours anymore.”

  Her lip trembled and he wanted to reach out and smooth his thumb over its plump cushion, feel its soft warmth responding to his touch, see the hurt in her eyes disappear. “What do you mean?”

  “You can ask Roberto to get the launch ready. The first of your guests is leaving Corazón.”

  Chapter 7

  Connie felt curiously calm as she packed her clothes away. Having made the decision to go, she now felt only a sense of relief. It was what she should have done as soon as Sylvester walked away from her at that first meeting. Nothing was worth this sort of humiliation. She paused, touching a finger to her lips. She could still feel the imprint of his kiss. There was a strong chance she always would. Her breasts still ached to feel his touch once more. Angrily, she shook her head. No, even another kiss as magical as that one wasn’t worth waiting around for. Sylvester had made his feelings clear. He wasn’t going to change his mind, and Connie had too much pride to try to persuade him. It was no use dwelling on something that wasn’t to be. She had more important things to think about. Like where the hell she was going next.

  Sylvester had let her go when she had announced her intention of leaving the island. He hadn’t tried to stop her. Of course he hadn’t. What else could he do? He was hardly going to persuade her to stay here when it must be a profound relief to him to see the back of her. Now he could get on with this Machiavellian scheme for the rest of the group without any fear this intense attraction between the two of them might interrupt his plans.

  A knock on the door made her start in surprise. Despite her lecture to herself, her mind instantly leaped with the hope it might be Sylvester. With her heart pounding wildly, she went to open it.

  Matt was standing outside, his expression shocked. “Roberto said you’re leaving. Tell me it’s not true.”

  “It’s true.” She stepped back into the room, allowing him to follow her.

  “But why? I don’t understand. Is it because of what happened to Guthrie? I have a theory about that. I reckon Lucinda brained him with the poker to stop him drinking the island dry.”

  Connie smiled but shook her head. Throwing the last few items into her suitcase, she closed and locked it. “I’m just not happy here.”

  “Because of Sylvester?”

  She glanced up in surprise. “What makes you say that?”

  “Oh, come on, Connie. You come into a room, he goes out. He spends all his time watching you but pretending not to. He goes out of his way to include everyone in the conversation, but he can’t string two words together to speak to you. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe the legendary Sylvester de León could behave so awkwardly.”

  Connie felt something suspiciously like tears sting the backs of her eyelids. She didn’t have time to indulge in an in-depth discussion about Sylvester, no matter how much she might want to. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll both be happier if I go.”

  “Well, I won’t.” Matt sounded like a sulky schoolboy. “My God, look what you’re condemning me to. Do you want me to end up a gibbering wreck after another few weeks with no one normal to talk to?”

  “I’m very flattered to be thought of as normal,” Connie assured him with an attempt at a smile. “I must go. I don’t want to keep Roberto waiting.”

  Matt made a final attempt. “You don’t like boats.”

  “It’s hardly an excuse for staying. I have to leave here sometime and the only way to do that will be on a boat. I can’t stay marooned here forever.”

  He stared down at her, but she had the strangest feeling he wasn’t really seeing her. “No, I suppose not.” It seemed to take an effort for him to rouse himself from his thoughts.

  Matt carried her suitcase down the stairs for her.

  Sylvester was waiting on the beach as they walked out of the house. Matt handed Connie’s suitcase to him and then turned away, leaving them alone.

  “I can carry it to the boat.” Connie held out her hand for the case.

  “Don’t go.” Sylvester’s voice was hoarse.

  She shook her head, unable to look at him. “I have to. This isn’t doing either of us any good.”

  “Please. I’ve behaved like an idiot. Stay and let me make it up to you.”

  Connie managed to lift her eyes to his face. If she’d been undecided then, the blaze of emotion in those blue eyes was all she needed to convince her. Her throat hurt so much she wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak. When she tried, the words came out stiffly. “Do you know what it is, why it’s happening? This thing between us?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “But you can’t tell me?”

  “No. Maybe if we knew each other better I could...but it sounds so crazy you wouldn’t believe me.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We don’t have enough time.”

  “If I stay, will you promise me something?”

  Sylvester smiled properly at her for the first time. It was an irresistible expression and it took every ounce of Connie’s self-control to remain serious and not return it. “If I can.”

  “This is the first vacation I’ve had since I was a child. Will you stop being such a pain in the ass and make sure I get to enjoy it?”

  Clearly he had been expecting her to ask him for something deeper and more intense. Shock made him pause. Then he started to laugh. “You have yourself a deal.” Taking her hand, he tucked it into the crook of his arm. Leading her toward the house, he called back over his shoulder, “Roberto, we won’t be needing the launch today, after all.”

  * * *

  The decision to ask Connie to stay had come from his heart not his head. Now it was made, Sylvester somehow felt lighter and freer. Was it the right thing? Reason told him it wasn’t. As he watched her while she ate her lunch, he decided reason could go to hell. I have a few weeks left. Just this once, let me put duty aside and have some pleasure.

  That other, insidious voice at the back of his mind tried to start up again. What about her? What about after?

  For the first time ever, he silenced it. This is about now, not about forever.

  After lunch he approached Connie. “After your request this morning, I’m at your command. What would you like to do this afternoon?”

  She bit her lip. “I didn’t mean you had to devote yourself exclusively to me.”

  Sylvester took a step closer to her. He couldn’t help himself. “I want to.”

  Her eyes sparkled. “I would like to see the lighthouse.”

  “Very well. There are two ways of getting there. We can walk, but it’s faster by boat.”

  The sparkle vanished instantly and something shifted in Connie’s eyes. A shadow, haunted and fearful, lurked in their dark depths. “I don’t like boats.”

  Sylvester’s impulse was to sweep her into his arms and kiss away that look. Instead, with a superhuman effort, he forced himself to keep his distance. “Then we’ll walk.” He glanced down at her sneakers. “It’s a good thing you’re wearing some sturdy shoes.”

  They set off across the island.

  At first, Sylvester confined his conversation to information about the landscape, pointing out different plants and telling Connie stories about his childhood exploits.

  “What’s the little cottage we were at earlier?” He sensed she had been building up the courage to ask him the question.

  “After Máximo was captured by the Calusa, he lived among them for some time. That was the house he built himself. It has been preserved for posterity.” He smiled. “Preserved is probably the wrong word. I’m guessing very little of the original actually remains. Nevertheless, I suppose it’s a sort of shrine. The place where the de León dynasty was founded.”

  “And I crashed in there and sat on the bed.” Connie groaned. “No wonder you were angry. I’m so sorry.”

  He caught hold of her arm, the action halting her and swinging her around to face him at the same time. “Did you think it was anger I was feeling when I kissed you, Connie?”

  Although she swallowed hard, she tilted her chin bravely. “I know it wasn’t. I was there, remember?”

  The pulse that beat wildly in her throat fascinated him and he reached out to touch it. Connie flinched away from him and he immediately knew why. Cursing his own clumsiness, he moved his hand, tracing the white lines on her throat tenderly. “Who gave you these scars?”

  Her eyelids fluttered down, hiding the expression in her eyes. “I don’t know his name.” A single tear slid down her cheek and her body slumped against his.

  Leading her to a large pine, Sylvester sat in its shade with his back against the tree and gestured for Connie to join him. After a moment’s hesitation, she sat, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms around them in a defensive gesture.

  “Can you talk about it?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice was shaky. “I’ve never tried.”

  “Not even to the police?” Sylvester did his best to keep his voice even. He sensed if he followed his instincts and drew her into his arms, she would run from him like a frightened animal.

  “Yes, at first, but...” She lifted a hand in that unconscious gesture he’d noticed so often and covered her neck. “I’ll start at the beginning...

  “I studied design at college and it got me noticed by a few photographers. I signed with an agency and started doing some modeling. I was actually quite successful at it and my career looked set to take off. The police think that’s possibly how he first noticed me. But it wasn’t a classic case of stalking. There was no build up to it.”

  “So he didn’t feel he had a relationship with you?”

  Connie nodded, apparently pleased he understood. “That’s it exactly. The attack came out of the blue. I lived with my mother. We’d been out for dinner and a movie. When we got home, he was in the house. Waiting in the dark for us...” Her voice became choked.

  Sylvester risked placing an arm about her shoulders. Connie didn’t resist. “You don’t have to continue if it’s too painful.”

  “No, it feels good to finally talk about it. He wore a mask and he didn’t speak. Not once throughout the whole thing. Not even when he killed my mother.” She turned her face into his shoulder and sobbed.

  Sylvester held her close and murmured words of comfort into the silken mass of her hair. Words of comfort? What could he possibly offer to take away the pain of what she had just described?

  After a few minutes Connie sat straighter and rummaged in the pocket of her shorts for a Kleenex. She dried her eyes and blew her nose.

  “The police couldn’t understand why he didn’t kill me, as well. They said he stopped just short of it. Almost as if he knew just how far to go to leave me badly scarred but still alive.” Her fingertips skimmed the scars. “He was branding me, leaving me with a permanent reminder of him on my body I would have to live with every day.”

  “Was he interrupted?”

  “That was the police theory, but I know it isn’t true.” Her eyes were huge and haunted. “I didn’t lose consciousness. He wasn’t interrupted. He just stopped. Walked away and left me in a pool of blood next to my mother’s body.”

  Sylvester’s hands clenched into fists on his knees. “And in all this time, they’ve never found a single clue about his identity or his motive?”

  “No. But that was four years ago and he has been taunting me ever since.”

  “Didn’t the police do anything to protect you?”

  Connie gave a soft laugh. “I had a panic button and they monitored my calls, but he just found new ways around it. He would break into my apartment and leave notes to remind me about the night he attacked me, or tell me what I’d done that day, describe what I’d eaten in a restaurant, so I knew he’d been watching me. In the end, I gave up going to the police and started moving on each time he found me. He always found me.”

  Sylvester slid an arm around her shoulders and she didn’t resist. No wonder she had wanted this respite, this haven Corazón offered. And he had almost driven her away because of his own selfishness. As her head came to rest on his shoulder, he made a promise that, in the time he had left, he would do his best to protect her from any further hurt. And that would include protecting her from him.

  * * *

  They sat under the pine tree in silence for some time. Telling Sylvester about the attack had left Connie emotionally wrung out, yet with a curious feeling of comfort. It was as though her muscles had been energized after being tightly wound for so long she couldn’t remember what relaxation felt like. Now, when she stood, her body felt ready to face new challenges.

  As they continued walking across the island, the scenery gradually changed. Instead of lush vegetation, their feet encountered uneven rocks. Although Sylvester reached out a hand to assist Connie over the worst of these, there were some points when they had to scramble over deep fissures. In the distance, she could make out the shape of the lighthouse perched on the very tip of the island.

  She paused to catch her breath. “Matt told me the lighthouse might have been used for a disreputable purpose. He said the man who built it was a murdering bastard.”

  “Is that what he said?” Sylvester’s expression was unreadable. “It’s true people believed Emilio de León was evil. Hundreds of people lost their lives on these rocks after this lighthouse was built. He, meanwhile, amassed a fortune from the goods he collected from the wrecks of their ships. Don’t let anyone tell you the de Leóns are nice guys.”

  She looked up into his face. “Are you trying to convince me you are a bad guy?”

  He grinned. “I’m not perfect, but at least I decided against going into the family business of wrecking ships.”

  Since he’d persuaded her to stay, Connie felt some of the barriers between them had come down. Some. That was the important word. Sylvester still put up invisible boundaries. She didn’t know what they were or where she would find them until she encountered one. She was discovering one now. It was as if she had gotten a bit too close and he was gently pushing her away.

 

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