The wedding had been a success. All the work Rosa had done had paid off. She wanted to fist pump, happy dance, slap her own back, and slam back several glasses of champagne.

But the resort was dark and silent. The last of the guests had staggered off to bed and the cleanup was done. Rosa was probably the only one on the island still awake and she was wired, hyped by her success. So she settled for saying, “Well done, Rosa,” out loud to herself as she stood outside the restaurant, digging her bare toes into the cold sand.

The waves glided in and out, stroking the sand with soft fingers. Overhead, millions of stars twinkled at her. Another gorgeous night on the island. Every day, she loved it here a little more. She loved everything about it. Not just the beauty of the island, but the job too. It was perfect for her, and she was good at it. Given time, she could have this place humming and build its reputation. Make it the best resort in Fiji.

If Dalton didn’t sell it to someone who gave Rosa her marching orders.

Tiny had seemed to enjoy the wedding. She hadn’t looked as exhausted as she had when Rosa had first arrived. In fact, even in the short time Rosa had been here, she seemed to be slowly improving. Surely Dalton could see it too? If only Tiny could stay on the island like she wanted, everything would be perfect.

Dalton had mentioned he had a buyer for the resort lined up. But what if he couldn’t sell it so easily? If Tiny had more time here, he’d have to admit how well she was improving just working with the therapist from the mainland who came over four days a week.

Rosa left the beach and slipped her shoes back on to head toward Dalton’s office, her way lit by the little solar-powered lights that lined the path. If she could find the buyer’s details on Dalton’s desk, maybe she’d figure out a way to discourage him. Could she sign into Dalton’s email and send the buyer a message saying the deal was off?

Ooo, tempting. But underhanded. And Dalton would be beyond furious if he found out. But it wouldn’t hurt to find out who the buyer was.

Dalton’s office was dark, the door closed so Crusoe couldn’t get out. She kicked off her heels again, then let herself in and shut the door behind her. Moonlight through the window made the room only a shade lighter than pitch black.

“Hey Crusoe,” she said softly into the darkness. “Don’t worry, it’s only me.”

The light switch had to be on the wall by the door somewhere, but as hard as she searched she couldn’t find it. She fumbled for it, cursing.

Then a thump came from the corner of the room. Rosa froze. She stepped forward, peering into the gloom. “Crusoe?”

A male voice came from the darkness. “That you, Rosa?”

Her heart leapt into her throat, and she pressed one hand on her chest. “You surprised me. I didn’t think you were here.”

The light on the desk came on. It was a weak lamp, but its faint light illuminated Dalton’s face from underneath, casting weird horror-movie shadows. His body was huge, dark and hulking. Heart-stoppingly sinister. The scar through his eyebrow caught the light.

Then he stepped away from it and was the Dalton she knew again. He ran a hand through his messy hair and yawned. “I lay down and must have fallen asleep.”

She glanced at the couch. Crusoe was underneath it, staring at her. But for the glint of reflected light in his eyes, he was little more than a shadow. If the end of his tail hadn’t been flicking slowly back and forth, she might not have noticed him at all.

“It’s late,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep so I came to check on Crusoe.”

“I keep having to refill his food bowl. So far he’s eaten enough for three cats.” He yawned again, and his voice was a little hoarse from having been asleep. For some reason, this made her feel warm inside. Dalton awake was as untamed as the cat, but Dalton disheveled and sleepy was a gentler beast.

“Is he getting friendlier?” She got closer, then stopped with an exclamation of pain, picking up one bare foot to pick a curl of wood out of her skin. “Wood chips.”

“I was carving. Careful of your feet.”

“Now you tell me.” She crouched gingerly and held her hand out to the cat, but he didn’t move. “Here, kitty. Good boy. Come on, Crusoe.” He was a cat statue, even his tail still now.

“The trick is to ignore him. Then he’ll want to know why.”

Rosa straightened. “It’s a shame we can’t keep him.” Her skin prickled with awareness as Dalton moved closer to her. Close enough that she could smell his cologne. It made her heart speed up.

“It is.” His voice was soft. It sent a shiver down her spine.

His being this close was making her breath come faster. She kept thinking about how he’d kissed her, and it made her nervous. Her palms were getting sweaty.

“How did the rest of the wedding go?” he asked.

“Great, actually. Everything went smoothly. And those two wedding guests, Nate and Suzie? I saw them go off in the dark together.” She swallowed hard, trying to get her nerves under control.

“What, they disappeared into the trees?”

“More like they stormed off. Like they either wanted to have a fist fight, or tear each other’s clothes off.”

He let out a low laugh. “They can’t have it both ways.”

“Why not? There’s a fine line between fighting and… the other ‘f’ word.”

“The other ‘f’ word?” He put his hands on her forearms and she felt the touch everywhere, as though the skin of her arm had a direct connection to every single part of her body. “Then we should keep fighting,” he murmured.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind about Tiny, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” It came out louder than she’d intended, but his thumbs were rubbing slow semi-circles over her skin. His hands were rough from all those tiny cuts. The roughness felt good. She wanted those hard hands on her body, running over her soft and tender skin.

Staring at his lips, she remembered all too well how amazing they’d felt on hers. Would he kiss her again? His lips were close enough that she could lean forward and touch them with her own.

“I like your dress,” he murmured. “You looked beautiful today.”

What was it with his compliments? For some reason they made her flush with warmth. She felt like a candle he could blow on to make her burn brighter at will.

“You cleaned up pretty well too,” she said. Although in a dress shirt and pants, he’d looked more like a billionaire romance hero than a pirate. He was back in a pair of jeans and t-shirt now. Back to being Captain Plunder. It suited him.

Letting go of her arms, he nodded downward. “Crusoe’s checking you out.”

She glanced down, startled, and saw the cat emerging from under the couch. His long body was stretched out toward her, his nose testing the air an inch from her leg. “Hello, Crusoe,” she murmured. “You’re getting a bit more confident, aren’t you boy?”

“I’m surprised he can walk at all, the amount of food he’s eaten.” Dalton sounded fond of the cat already. “Don’t move and he’ll rub against you.”

Sure enough, after sniffing for a moment longer, Crusoe brushed his body along her legs. She smiled. “Why do I feel so honored?” Then she heard a low, unmistakable sound and raised her eyebrows. “Is he purring?”

“He likes you.” Dalton’s voice was so soft, it invited her to lean in a little closer.

Why wasn’t Dalton still touching her? She wanted his hands on her again, to feel his thumbs stroking her skin. Reaching up with one hand, she ran her fingers gently down his cheek. He turned his face toward her hand, leaning into her touch. She loved the feel of his stubble, the way it scraped on her skin. Her palm brushed his lips. The urge to melt against him was so strong, it was a physical ache.

He slipped his hands around her waist and drew her against him. “He’s not the only one,” he murmured.

By the time Dalton moved his mouth toward her, she felt so needy, so ready for him, she was just about ready to explode. She met him half way, her lips instantly parting for him. His kiss sent an electric surge of pure lust through her. Oh. He tasted so good, so male. His hands were insistent, pulling her against him. His body was big and hard, his mouth demanding.

Their kiss was like diving underwater. Everything else ceased to exist. Her whole being was inside their kiss. Nothing mattered but the way he felt and smelled and tasted. The heat of his mouth. The softness of his lips. The way his tongue met hers.

They kissed for a long time, and when he finally pulled back a little, stroking her hair back from her face, she realized she was clinging to him, her fingers digging into his back.

She let go, taking a deep breath. Her heart was thundering and she felt weak all over. Her knees were like jelly. All she wanted was to feel his mouth again. To press against him and feel how hard he was, proof of how much he wanted her. It took an effort to hold herself back.

“Rosa,” he said softly. “You drive me crazy.”

“In a good way?”

His mouth quirked. God, she loved his mouth. It was so full and perfect. And when one side curled up with amusement, it made dangerous things happen to her insides.

“Do you want—?“ She stepped back onto something sharp. “Ouch!”

“What is it?”

“Stupid wood shavings.” She lifted her bare foot.

“Here, let me take a look.” He bent to put one arm behind her knees, and before she could protest, he’d picked her up.

She laughed breathlessly, slipping her hands around his neck. She hadn’t been picked up since she was a kid. “What are you doing? Taking me somewhere safe?”

He didn’t move, and when he spoke, his tone was suddenly serious. “To my desk. And you won’t be safe.”

Pressing her face into his neck, she breathed him in. Then she nipped his flesh between her teeth. “I like a little danger.”

He set her down so she was sitting on the edge of his desk. The desk lamp was just behind her, and he angled it so its light shone downward. Then he crouched to peer at the sole of her foot. She couldn’t help but smile. His expression was as serious as if he were performing delicate surgery.

“You see the wound, Doctor?” she asked. “Am I going to live?”

He rubbed his thumb gently over the sole of her foot, making her wriggle and laugh.

“Ticklish,” she gasped.

“Really? All over?” He gave her a suggestive smile, raising his eyebrows. The broken one suited him so well. It gave him that irresistibly rough edge.

She reached down to his face, to touch the silvery line that divided his eyebrow. “How did you get that scar?”

He straightened slowly, and as he rose, her hand stroked down to his cheek, then his neck. He leaned his hips against her knees and she spread them so he could get closer to her.

“I got it here,” he said, running his fingers down a strand of her hair.

“What, right here?” she said, joking. “In this spot?”

To her surprise, he nodded. “When the cyclone came, this building was the logical choice to shelter in. The bures were too flimsy, the restaurant was too exposed, and the house had too many windows. This was my parents’ office, and it was smaller then. Not much bigger than this room and the next one.” He motioned toward his office. “Back then it had a pitched roof, and there was a big roof beam running the length of it.” He looked up as though he was seeing it the way it used to be.

“The roof got torn off?”

“It fell in pieces, the beam last. We were all huddled together as the building ripped itself apart over our heads. We were so close, you’d think we would have been hurt the same. But my father and Tiny didn’t have a scratch on them. I took a blow to the head and was knocked out cold. My mother was killed.” He smoothed the strand of her hair back as he talked, frowning at it as though getting its placement perfect took all his attention.

“That’s awful.” She glanced up at the roof, imagining it falling. It must have been terrifying.

His lips quirked to the side. Not a gesture of amusement, she thought. It was probably easier for him to talk about it with a half-smile as though it didn’t hurt to remember.

“It was worse afterward,” he said. “It was like my father had been drained dry. He was so empty, he had nothing left for Tiny. She was only ten, and she needed him.”

“I know a little about what it must have been like for you both.” Rosa put her hands on both his hips and eased him a little closer. “Our parents weren’t exactly loving, so Carin and I relied on each other. It made us close.”

He leaned in and his mouth took hers again. This time, their kiss was both softer and deeper. She’d never been kissed the way he kissed her. It felt like he was pulling her into a whole different universe. Time was going faster than normal, but she was going slower. Kissing him, she was no longer part of the ordinary world.

God, what was she thinking? She took a breath, her palm against the scratchiness of his chin and her fingers stroking the soft skin of his cheek. “I’m starting to have strange thoughts about you,” she murmured, their mouths still close.

“Strange how?”

“Things are changing for me. My feelings for you are getting complicated.” She frowned, hearing the words coming out of her mouth as though somebody else were saying them. Although they were true, was this really the right time to admit it?

Dalton drew back a little. Not much, just an inch or two. But even that tiny movement made her heart sink. They obviously weren’t words he welcomed. No surprise, really. He was a man, after all.

“You’re close with your sister, so you know how I feel about Tiny. She’s my priority right now. And…” He hesitated. “I can’t make you any promises. I’m not good at letting people get close.”

“Okay. Well.” She was dying a little inside, so it took everything she had to give him a smile and keep her voice light. “Thanks for your honesty. I’m glad you told me now, before…”

He made an impatient noise and pushed one hand roughly into her hair. “Screw this. I want you, Rosa. That’s more honest than anything.” Then his mouth was on hers again, and everything else disappeared. He pulled her against him so her legs were around his hips. Her dress rode up and her thin, soaked panties rubbed against the rough fabric of his jeans. He was hard against her and it felt so good, she could have sobbed.

The part of her brain telling her not to do it, that falling for Dalton was guaranteed to end in heartbreak — she couldn’t hear that part anymore. It was buried in exquisite sensation. She pushed her hands under his shirt, and the warmth of his skin was even better than his kiss.

Dammit, she wanted this, every bit as much as he obviously did. If it ended up a disaster, she’d deal with it.

She pushed his shirt up, and he pulled it over his head and dropped it onto the floor.

When she started to wriggle out of her dress, he stopped her with a serious look. “You sure?” he murmured.

“No.” She pulled her dress up and off. “This is definitely a mistake.” And because he was hesitating, not putting his hands where she wanted them, she grabbed them and placed them on her waist.

He stroked up to her breasts, then drew her bra off. “Then we’ll stop,” he murmured, bending to tongue her nipples. His mouth and rough hands felt every bit as good as she’d hoped. He stroked the sensitive underside of her breasts while he licked and sucked her.

“Yeah,” she agreed, fumbling with the fastening of his jeans. “Let’s do that.”

When his jeans were on the floor and he’d sprung free, she wrapped both hands around him, sliding them up and down until he groaned with pleasure. Naked, he was magnificent. And the best part was the way he looked at her, like she was the most desirable woman in the world.

His hand went between her legs, stroking her through her soaked panties. Then he shoved them aside, and his thick finger thrust into her, making her gasp. Oh god, that felt incredible. It was too good. She was already on the edge of a cliff. Any more of that and she’d fall before she was ready.

“Stop,” she managed. “I can’t.”

He pulled away. And to her horror, kept going, stepping back away from her.

“Wait. I didn’t mean…”

“Condom.” He ripped open his desk drawer and yanked out a wallet. A moment later, he ripped open a foil packet.

“Okay.” She breathed out. “Good.”

While he rolled on the condom, she eased out of her panties and dropped them on top of all their clothes. When he turned back to her, she hooked her legs behind his butt, pulling him into her. She needed him inside her so badly, she had to force herself not to scream at him to hurry.

Either he could sense her need, or his was just as strong, because she felt his hardness push against her slick need. He thrust hard into where it ached, where she needed him. He sank in deep and time stopped. She was in that other world, where nothing existed but him. His mouth was on her neck, then kissing her throat, then demanding her lips. His hands were on her back, fisted in her hair, stroking her breasts.

“Dalton,” she gasped.

Then her release crashed into her with all the violence of a storm. She cried out against his mouth, and he rode her through it, thrusting into her as the pleasure spiraled her away. She was nothing but sensation. Nothing but need. She carved her fingernails into his back and bit his shoulder. He grunted and thrust harder, bringing her over the edge of darkness and then down, so slowly down.

Back into life. Back into reality. He was panting too. Spent. Had he called out as well? She couldn’t be sure.

He still had her mouth, but softly now. His lips infinitely gentle. His hands stroking and soothing. Her eyes were tightly closed as she savored the feeling of bliss that made her body feel like she didn’t have a single bone or muscle left. It was amazing she could still sit up.

There was a soft thump, and something brushed her arm. “What’s that?” She didn’t want to open her eyes.

“Crusoe,” said Dalton. “He wants attention.”

She dragged in her breath and forced her eyes to slowly open. Crusoe brushed against her arm more insistently. He obviously wanted her to pat him. Shame her entire body was made up of limp noodles and there was no way she could move.

“Good thing we stopped when we did,” murmured Dalton, nuzzling her ear. “Before things got out of hand.”

She turned her face a little, hiding it in his shoulder, and closed her eyes again. “Awesome self-control.” The words were muffled by his skin. “Not reckless or foolish at all.”

God, what had she done?