she barely noticed the opulent surroundings on their way through the mansion to the beach.
The October sun high in the sky was blinding and warm, hotter than when she’d been on the balcony, inching up toward eighty degrees perhaps. Her mind started churning with possible locations. Could they be in Mexico or South America? Or were they still in the States? California or—
“We’re off the coast of Florida.”
Glancing up sharply, she swallowed hard, not realizing until that moment how deeply the secrecy had weighed on her. “Thank you.”
He waved aside her gratitude. “You would have figured it out on your own in a couple of days.”
Maybe, but given the secrecy of Enrique’s employees, she wasn’t as certain. “So, what about more of those wacky internet rumors?”
“Do you really want to discuss that?”
“I guess not.” She slid off her flip-flops and curled her toes in the warm sand. “Thank you for all the clothes for me and for Kolby, the toys, too. We’ll enjoy them while we’re here. But you know we can’t keep them.”
“Don’t be a buzz kill.” He tapped her nose just below the bridge of her glasses. “My father’s staff ordered everything. I had nothing to do with it. If it’ll make you happy, we’ll donate the lot to Goodwill after you leave.”
“How did he get everything here so fast?” She strode into the tide, her shoes dangling from her fingers.
“Does it matter?” He slid off his shoes and socks and joined her, just into the water’s reach.
With the more casual and familiar Tony returning, some of the tension left her shoulders. “I guess not. The toys are awesome, of course, but Kolby enjoys the dogs most. They seem incredibly well trained.”
“They are. My father will have his trainers working with the dogs to bond with your son so they will protect him as well if need be while you are here.”
She shivered in spite of the bold beams of sunshine overhead. “Can’t a dog just be a pet?”
“Things aren’t that simple for us.” He looked away, down the coast at an osprey spreading its wings and diving downward.
How many times had he watched the birds as a child and wanted to fly away, too? She understood well the need to escape a golden cage. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He rejected her sympathy outright.
Pride iced his clipped words, and she searched for a safer subject.
Her eyes settled on the rippling crests of foam frosting the gray-blue shore. “Is this where you used to surf?”
“Actually, the cove is pretty calm.” He pointed ahead to an outcropping packed with palm trees. “The best spot is about a mile and a half down. Or at least it was. Who knows after so many years?”
“You really had free rein to run around the island.” She stepped onto a sandbar that fingered out into the water. As a mother, she had a tough time picturing her child exploring this junglelike beach at will.
“Once I was a teenager, pretty much. After I was through with schooling for the day, of course.” A green turtle popped his head from the water, legs poking from the shell as he swam out and slapped up the beach. “Although sometimes we even had class out here.”
“A field trip to the beach? What fun teachers you had.”
“Tutors.”
“Of course.” The stark difference in their upbringings wrapped around her like seaweed lapping at her ankles. She tried to shake free of the clammy negativity. “Surfing was your P.E.?”
“Technically, we had what you would call phys ed, but it was more of a health class with martial arts training.”
During her couple of years teaching high school band and chorus before she’d met Nolan, some of her students went to karate lessons. But they’d gone to a gym full of other students, rather than attending in seclusion with only two brothers for company. “It’s so surreal to think you never went to prom, or had an after-school job or played on a basketball team.”
“We had games here…but you’re right in that there was no stadium of classmates and parents. No cheerleaders.” He winked and smiled, but she sensed he was using levity as a diversion.
How often had he done that in the past and she’d missed out hearing his real thoughts or feelings because she wanted things to be uncomplicated?
Shannon squeezed his bulging forearm. “You would have been a good football player with your size.”
“Soccer.” His bicep twitched under her touch. “I’m from Europe, remember?”
“Of course.” Unlikely she would ever forget his roots now that she knew. And she wanted to learn more about this strong-jawed man who thought to order a miniature motorized Jeep for her son—and then give credit to his father.
She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm as she swished through the ebbs and flow of the tidewaters. “So you still think of yourself as being from Europe? Even though you were only five when you came to the U.S.?”
His eyebrows pinched together. “I never really thought of this as the U.S. even though I know how close we are.”
“I can understand that. Everything here is such a mix of cultures.” While the staff spoke English to her, she’d heard Spanish spoken by some. Books and magazines and even instructions on labels were a mix of English, Spanish and some French. “You mentioned thinking this was still San Rinaldo when you got here.”
“Only at first. My father told us otherwise.”
What difficult conversations those must have been between father and sons. So much to learn and adjust to so young. “We’ve both lost a lot, you and I. I wonder if I sensed that on some level, if that’s what drew us to each other.”
He slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer while they kicked through the surf. “Don’t kid yourself. I was attracted to how hot you looked walking away in that slim black skirt. And then when you glanced over your shoulder with those prim glasses and do-me eyes.” He whistled long and low. “I was toast from the get-go.”
Trying not to smile, her skin heating all the same, she elbowed him lightly. “Cro-Magnon.”
“Hey, I’m a red-blooded male and you’re sexy.” He traced the cat-eye edge of her glasses. “You’re also entirely too serious at the moment. Life will kick us in the ass all on its own soon enough. We’re going to just enjoy the moment, remember? No more buzz kills.”
“You’re right.” Who knew how much longer she would have with Tony before this mess blew up in her face? “Let’s go back to talking about surfing and high school dances. You so would have been the bad boy.”
“And I’ll bet you were a good girl. Did you wear those studious glasses even then?”
“Since I was in the eighth grade.” She’d hated how her nose would
