himââ
âPlease, donât!â Kathy whispered.
âBut, Mother!â Shanna wailed. âNow Iâm going to have to worry about both of you.â
âServes you right,â Kathy retorted. âNow youâll know how I feel when you ignore the time I tell you to be in at night!â
She couldnât waste any more time. She crawled over the side, not wanting to alert Brent with a splash. She smiled at her daughter. âI love you. We both love you.â
âI love you, too!â Shanna cried.
The last sight Kathy had of her daughter then was bittersweet. David stepped up behind her and put a supporting hand around her. They were both very young and very beautiful, and maybe it was just as it should be. There was so much caring between them already.
Iâm losing her! Kathy thought, but she wasnât really. Shanna was loving and would always care for her, just as she would always worry about her daughter. But she was going to have to hand her over to David Brennan, it seemed. Maybe much sooner than she had expected.
The water closed around her. Kathy didnât look back. She swam as hard as she could for the Sweet Eden .
Brent climbed aboard the Sweet Eden , anxious to move as quickly as possible should anyone have tried to follow him and recognized the boat as one belonging to his ex-wife. He wanted to make sure the boat was far, far away from his ex-wife and his daughter.
He was worried. He trusted Justin Brennan, he had a lot of faith in the man, but he would be happier once he placed the call and found they had all reached the island and were behind the gates and walls and protected by the pack of shepherds.
Still, he didnât pull the anchor right away. He took the wet card from his pocket and read the address and phone number, closed his eyes and committed both to memory. Then he ripped the card into tiny shreds and let them fall into the ocean. He walked into the cabin for a towel, then came up and pulled in the anchor.
The Cary-Anne had not started out yet. He saw Shanna on deck, watching him, and he waved. She waved in return. David was with her.
He didnât see Kathy anywhere.
He sat, turned the key and listened to the motor rev. Then he slightly angled the tiller and waved again as he headed the Sweet Eden toward Miami.
Well, it was over now. Their time together. He didnât have to burn inside and hope he could refrain from grabbing her and demanding to know what the hell she was doing in that bathing suit. He didnât have to worry about the overwhelming desire to touch her, to hold her, to make love to her.
She had very silently, very agreeably stayed behind. She wanted him, sheâd had him, and sheâd walked away damned easily, ready to resume her life. With Mr. Fashion Plate, Mr. Hair Mousse, Mr. Wall Street Type. Maybe it was just what she wanted, just what she needed. A guy with no passion whatsoever inside, a guy as straight as an arrow.â¦
No passion, no life! He wasnât right for Kathy at all. There was no music in his soul, and Kathy was music, a sweet beat of laughter and impulse and challenge and never-ending curiosity, always willing to take a chance, to travel to new places, to meet new people. She was the pulse, the beat of his life. He hadnât lost his touch when he had lost his son, although the anguish had been terrible. He had lost it all when he had lost her, and he had barely managed to regain it.
Maybe it was better that she dated this guy, this Axel. Maybe they would never walk down island shores together while listening to the drumroll of a different lifestyle. Maybe theyâd never find a private cove and throw caution to the wind. Maybe heâd never make love with sand between his toes.
But then again, maybe heâd never hurt her, either.
Sheâd walk all over him eventually, Brent thought sourly. Kathy had her own temper. And her own will. And both were powerful. Sheâd tire of
âPlease, donât!â Kathy whispered.
âBut, Mother!â Shanna wailed. âNow Iâm going to have to worry about both of you.â
âServes you right,â Kathy retorted. âNow youâll know how I feel when you ignore the time I tell you to be in at night!â
She couldnât waste any more time. She crawled over the side, not wanting to alert Brent with a splash. She smiled at her daughter. âI love you. We both love you.â
âI love you, too!â Shanna cried.
The last sight Kathy had of her daughter then was bittersweet. David stepped up behind her and put a supporting hand around her. They were both very young and very beautiful, and maybe it was just as it should be. There was so much caring between them already.
Iâm losing her! Kathy thought, but she wasnât really. Shanna was loving and would always care for her, just as she would always worry about her daughter. But she was going to have to hand her over to David Brennan, it seemed. Maybe much sooner than she had expected.
The water closed around her. Kathy didnât look back. She swam as hard as she could for the Sweet Eden .
Brent climbed aboard the Sweet Eden , anxious to move as quickly as possible should anyone have tried to follow him and recognized the boat as one belonging to his ex-wife. He wanted to make sure the boat was far, far away from his ex-wife and his daughter.
He was worried. He trusted Justin Brennan, he had a lot of faith in the man, but he would be happier once he placed the call and found they had all reached the island and were behind the gates and walls and protected by the pack of shepherds.
Still, he didnât pull the anchor right away. He took the wet card from his pocket and read the address and phone number, closed his eyes and committed both to memory. Then he ripped the card into tiny shreds and let them fall into the ocean. He walked into the cabin for a towel, then came up and pulled in the anchor.
The Cary-Anne had not started out yet. He saw Shanna on deck, watching him, and he waved. She waved in return. David was with her.
He didnât see Kathy anywhere.
He sat, turned the key and listened to the motor rev. Then he slightly angled the tiller and waved again as he headed the Sweet Eden toward Miami.
Well, it was over now. Their time together. He didnât have to burn inside and hope he could refrain from grabbing her and demanding to know what the hell she was doing in that bathing suit. He didnât have to worry about the overwhelming desire to touch her, to hold her, to make love to her.
She had very silently, very agreeably stayed behind. She wanted him, sheâd had him, and sheâd walked away damned easily, ready to resume her life. With Mr. Fashion Plate, Mr. Hair Mousse, Mr. Wall Street Type. Maybe it was just what she wanted, just what she needed. A guy with no passion whatsoever inside, a guy as straight as an arrow.â¦
No passion, no life! He wasnât right for Kathy at all. There was no music in his soul, and Kathy was music, a sweet beat of laughter and impulse and challenge and never-ending curiosity, always willing to take a chance, to travel to new places, to meet new people. She was the pulse, the beat of his life. He hadnât lost his touch when he had lost his son, although the anguish had been terrible. He had lost it all when he had lost her, and he had barely managed to regain it.
Maybe it was better that she dated this guy, this Axel. Maybe they would never walk down island shores together while listening to the drumroll of a different lifestyle. Maybe theyâd never find a private cove and throw caution to the wind. Maybe heâd never make love with sand between his toes.
But then again, maybe heâd never hurt her, either.
Sheâd walk all over him eventually, Brent thought sourly. Kathy had her own temper. And her own will. And both were powerful. Sheâd tire of
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