that makes it more beautiful.” She’d kissed him and run off to find another shell, leaving the broken junonia in his fingers.
He’d loved her for that, for finding beauty in the brokenness. He watched now as she carefully replaced the shell on the mantel and turned to face him with none of the tenderness he had yearned for in those black, beautiful eyes.
“I’ll walk you to the bungalow,” he said.
Gavin made no comment as he watched them go.
* * *
Antonia could not see much as they made their way over the dark path, wind chilling her even further. She was relieved to find that Paula and Silvio had gone, leaving a lamp on to illuminate the wood flooring and stonework above a tiny fireplace. A little settee with cheerful blue-striped cushions complemented the azure bookcase. It must be Paula’s work as Reuben was color-blind, which was why he usually wore all black to make the matching easier. Or maybe the decor was another woman’s contribution. Not hard to believe; Reuben was a poet at heart, gorgeous, loyal, and in the past one look from his chocolate eyes made her weak in the knees.
She swallowed the thought.
Reuben cleared his throat and shoved his hands into his pockets, a gesture she knew he’d learned in his childhood.
“Paula left you a change of clothes.”
Antonia saw the faded Gators sweatshirt and pants. The housekeeper hadn’t handed them over cheerfully, she was sure, but Antonia was in no position to be fussy. She could not wait to exchange her soaking garments for dry ones.
Reuben opened a small cupboard and handed her a flashlight. “Storm may take out our electricity, but we’ve reinforced the walls so it’s more up to code than the main house.”
He turned to go.
“Thank you,” she blurted. “I mean, thank you for getting me out of the water and, um, letting me stay here—just until morning.”
He smiled—a shy grin, like a teen after his first kiss. She could not look away from his lips, expressive and sculpted perfectly. Tender, she remembered, and loaded with promises. Promises he could not keep.
“You’ll be our last guest of the season.” Something sad flickered across his face.
“You haven’t made much progress on the hotel?”
“Dry July and August and frost last December messed up the oranges. Not a lot of cash to funnel into this place. I managed to fix up two rooms in the main house and this bungalow, so we’ve had only a few paying customers.”
His gaze ran over the wooden beams.
The irony confused her. Hector was rolling in money, yet Reuben struggled. But when push came to shove, she reminded herself, he had his brother’s back, not yours.
“I’ll be ready first thing in the morning,” she said, trying for a stronger tone than a dripping wet, exhausted woman should command.
“We’ll get you there as soon as we can. By morning we should have a better forecast on the storm.” He hesitated. “Nee...”
The endearment cut at her, and she saw that he regretted the slip.
Memories flitted through her mind.
“Why are you staring at me?”
His smile, those lips. “The light in your eyes, it’s like the sky just before the sun rises.”
She looked feverishly around the room. “Nice. Nice place.”
“Antonia, your life isn’t my business anymore, but if you were scared enough of that man on the Jet Ski to risk drowning, you should talk to the cops. I can arrange...”
“No,” she said quickly. “I don’t want you to arrange anything. I’m sorry I wound up here, Reuben. Believe me, it wasn’t my intention. I appreciate your help, but I’ll go tomorrow.”
“And then disappear again.”
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” She swallowed. “The best thing for both of us.”
His gaze hardened, and she knew what was coming. “Where’s Gracie?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. You’re helping your sister break the law. Ironic, since that’s what you accused my brother of doing.”
“She asked me to help her do what she had to do because Gracie’s life is more important than your brother’s selfishness.”
“It’s not selfish to want to see your child. He loves Gracie.”
“He put her in danger by getting back into the business. He attacked her mother.”
“He didn’t...” Reuben broke off, the muscles around his jaw working. “There’s no point getting into it now.” He exhaled. “You will probably never believe this, but he misses Gracie, and so do I. More than I can say.”
Without another word he opened the door and walked into the night.
She watched him from the window, standing behind the curtain in case he might turn around again and catch her there. He stopped at the bend in the path, looking not back at the bungalow, but straight ahead at the delicate peaked roof of the main house, wondering perhaps how it would escape the storm without damage. It struck her that she’d never considered how Reuben might have felt about losing Gracie. She should have known. In happier times she’d seen him spend hours on the floor stacking blocks or clomping around on his hands and knees pretending to be Gracie’s trusty palomino. Her throat tightened and tears pricked her eyes.
But Mia was right. Hector was dangerous, and she could not allow him back into her life. And that meant Reuben, too.
All around, the island twisted and bent under the increasing threat. It seemed to her that nothing on Isla Marsopa escaped unscathed. His mother died on her way to the island. Reuben was chained to a disastrously expensive repair. And Antonia herself would never be able to picture Isla without remembering what she had most treasured...and lost.
Her vision blurred and she blinked hard as the darkness swallowed Reuben up. Tomorrow she would choose to face the wrath of the storm, no matter how strong, rather than revisit the tattered wreck of her past with Reuben. It would be kinder for both of them.
THREE
Reuben was prowling the hotel grounds long before sunup, and the massive cloud wall illuminated by the moon didn’t bode well for the coming day. The scenario was all too grimly familiar. He and everyone else from Jamaica to the eastern seaboard had been tracking the progress of the monstrous storm, which started as a tropical wave that ballooned over the west coast of Africa before strengthening into a depression. From there it burgeoned into a tropical storm that parked for a while over the Caribbean Sea, taunting almost, before launching itself into what the National Hurricane Center had officially deemed a bona fide hurricane. It would strike land in less than forty-eight hours.
He swallowed a sick feeling. Hurricane
