HER PARENTS, HE THOUGHT FURIOUSLY, had abandoned her without ever actually discarding her. “I can’t remember,” he said through a raw wave of protectiveness, tugging her even closer to his body so he could cuddle her more. “Mom likes to say I never learned to sleep past five in the morning.”

“It sounds like a happy childhood.”

“It was.” He’d been too young to understand as much as Gabriel, had known only that he was safe and warm and loved.

Ísa’s expression changed. “Then why are your eyes so sad?”

He ran his fingers through the glory of Ísa’s hair. “Things changed when I was five.” Sailor never talked about this, didn’t like to remember how desperately that five-year-old boy had hoped, but he could do no less when Ísa had trusted him with her own family. “The man who fathered Gabriel and me walked out on us. Just left one day and didn’t come back. After cleaning out all the accounts.”

Ísa’s anger was a magnificent thing. “How could he do that to his own children?”

“Because he’s an asshole.” And a man in whose footsteps Sailor would never follow, not even if it killed him. “It was always grand plans and no follow-through with Brian.” Sailor remembered enough to understand that. “That’s why the only man I acknowledge as my father is Joseph.”

Sailor felt his lips curve. “He and my mom met a year after the asshole walked out, and to hear my dad tell it, she treated him like a piece of stinking dead fish at first. Every time he asked her out, she’d say no, she was too busy, she had to clean the toilet.” Sailor’s shoulders shook. “So one day he turned up with a toilet brush and said he’d clean her damn toilet for her every week if that was what it took.”

Ísa giggled with him. “It must’ve been hard for her to trust another man. Especially with having two young children.”

“Yeah, but Dad… He knows how to love, and he does it without flinching.” Breathing in the warmth of Ísa’s scent, he told her the rest. “It took Mom months to trust him enough to even introduce me and Gabe, but when she did, he repaid her trust a thousand times over. He’s the man I want to be.”

“You love him very much.” Ísa’s hand stroking his shoulder and arm.

“He put so much love into me, into Gabe, that we had no choice.” Never had they not felt as much his sons as Jake and Danny. “The tattoos on my body? They’re traditional Samoan designs, given to me piece by piece as a gift after I turned eighteen.”

No gift had meant more in his life. “Dad drew each and every line, and his brother inked them. Only reason I’m a Bishop instead of an Esera is because Brian refused permission for a legal adoption when they tracked him down to ask.” A pathetic attempt to hold on to the family he’d thrown away. “Gabe and I were gutted, but Dad sat us down and told us nothing would change the fact that we were his boys.”

Tears shimmered in Ísa’s eyes. “I think I’m in love with your dad.”

Kissing her… letting her hold him, cuddle him, Sailor said, “Don’t try anything funny though. My mother’s a little possessive.” He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose… and his stomach growled again. “That’s enough deep emotional stuff.” He felt as if he’d run sandpaper over his soul. “I need food.”

Ísa kissed his lips, then his cheeks, then his nose.

He was grinning by the time she got to his ears.

Finally separating several minutes later, they took turns using the bathroom before dressing in their wrinkled clothes from the previous day. As tidy as they could be, they crept out into the kitchen. It was now five forty-five, and the birds were tweeting up a storm outside the windows.

Tiptoeing around, they checked out the fridge and pantry.

“Want blueberry pancakes?” Sailor whispered to Ísa. “I saw fresh blueberries in the fridge.”

Bright eyes. “Do you know how to make them?”

“I’m an expert,” he bragged. “There’s bacon too. Why don’t you fry some while I whip up the batter?”

They had the pancakes going and the bacon sizzling when the light came on in Catie’s room. The teenager stumbled out a minute later, her hair sticking up like a baby’s and her prosthetics nowhere to be seen.

“Is that bacon?” she whispered, as if she’d smelled ambrosia from heaven.

“Bacon and pancakes.” Ísa pointed a spatula at the teenager, her volume low in deference to the sleeping Martha. “You know your doctors don’t like you doing the knee-walking.”

“I know, I know.” Catie turned back around, hustling as fast as possible. “Give me time to put on my legs, then I’m coming out to eat all the food.”

“Why not the wheelchair we used last night?” Sailor asked after the teen disappeared back into her room. “Wouldn’t that be faster since she’s obviously hungry?”

“Catie hates using the wheelchair. Obstinate runs in the Rain line.” It was an affectionate statement. “She got very good at walking on her knees for a while, until her physiotherapist drummed it into her head that she might cause flexion contractures.” Ísa bent her knee to demonstrate. “It’s where the muscles kind of lock and the knee won’t straighten out fully.”

“Got it. Bad for a runner.”

Ísa nodded. “She only forgets now and then, not enough to harm her.” A quick grin. “But she ordered us all to tell her off when she does.”

Catie returned as Ísa was pouring her a glass of orange juice. The teen had washed her face and brushed her hair back into a ponytail but remained in her pink pajamas dotted with tiny blue stars, the pants short and the top long sleeved with buttons down the front.

Thumping her fists lightly on the counter after scrambling up onto a stool, she whispered, “Where’s my food, minions?”

A mini-spitfire, Sailor thought, taking in those dancing eyes. “Here you are, Your Majesty.”

Already stuffing her face, Catie nodded at the fridge, mumbling something that had Ísa opening the fridge and searching within. “Got it.” She put a pressurized can of whipped cream next to the syrup she’d already found, and Catie went to town with it, smothering her pancakes in the white goop.

Sailor was more of a purist while Ísa stuck with syrup.

“You guys are going back today, right?” Catie said sometime later, her plate bearing evidence of a pancake massacre.

“There’s no rush.” Ísa took a sip of her coffee. “I can stay as long as you want.”

“The Dragon will eat you.”

“Apparently I’m indigestible. She keeps spitting me back out.”

“It’s okay,” Catie said with a laugh she muffled behind one hand. “I really am fine. I was just being a baby last night, that’s all.”

Ísa ran her hand down Catie’s back. “Hey, as far as I’m concerned, you are a baby. I remember changing your diaper five minutes ago.”

“Ugh, total embarrassment!” Despite the outraged statement, Catie leaned over to kiss Ísa on the cheek, the two sisters sitting side by side on the breakfast stools with Sailor next to Ísa.

“Thanks for coming, Issie.”

“Always, Catiebug.”

The love between the two was a banner, their relationship clearly as tight as Sailor’s with his brothers. A point of commonality he’d highlight to Ísa at the first opportunity. He had a feeling she wasn’t yet convinced about the wisdom of this relationship, that if he wasn’t careful, his skittish redhead might yet run.

Hell if he’d let that happen.

Catie ate another pancake before saying, “I think you should go. I’m feeling okay now, and I’ll be busy with the training I have coming up.” A gulp of orange juice. “Plus I think Harlow really needs you. He was texting me last night—he’s freaked out about the job. More than he shows.”

Ísa’s brow furrowed. “He’s only just started. What’s freaking him out?”

“He heard a rumor that the other interns all had sit-downs with Jacqueline every day. He’s worried that Jacqueline doesn’t like something he’s done and he’s already been sidelined.”

Ísa rubbed her face. “None of that is true. Why is he acting crazy?”

“It’s the Dragon—you know how he wants to be her mini-me. Any sign of trouble and he turns emo-Harlow.” Catie shook her head at Sailor. “Normally he’s smart, sane Harlow, but the Dragon scrambles his brain cells.”

“What about his parents?” Sailor asked, intensely curious about the dynamics of Ísa’s family.

“Losers from Loserville,” Catie said before Ísa could answer. “They both got married again and totally did the happy new families thing like Harlow’s not even there.” A curl of her lip. “Good thing he has me and Issie and his nutso crush on the Dragon, or he’d probably get bad friends, turn to drugs, and have greasy hair.”

Yes, definitely a mini-spitfire. One who knew how to love as fiercely as the woman who haunted Sailor’s dreams. Even when he slept, he dreamed of his Ísalind. Nope, no way was Sailor letting her go. Not this time.

---

THE DRIVE BACK TO AUCKLAND was surprisingly easy once Ísa managed to leave Catie. She’d waited until Martha was up and able to confirm that Catie had a busy schedule that wouldn’t be impacted by her minor injuries.

Catie had given her a crushing hug before she left. “I love you, Issie.”

The sleepless nights, the sheer terror, that made it all worth it.

A brush of knuckles against her cheek. “You still worrying about Catie?”

Not fighting the urge to rub up against those knuckles before Sailor had to return his hand to the steering wheel, Ísa said, “No. I know her independence is important to her.” More important than most girls her age. “She can be militant about it sometimes, but it didn’t feel like it today.”

“Kid’s crazy about you.”

Ísa looked at Sailor’s profile and thought, Yes, like I’m crazy about you. But she couldn’t say those terrifying words. “At least she hasn’t turned to drugs, taken up with bad friends, and started going in for greasy hair.”

Sailor’s chuckle was a warm caress, the glance he shot her just as caressing.

Scared and happy and breathless, Ísa settled back to enjoy the early-morning drive, shoving thoughts of the future out of her mind. Those thoughts, those fears, would still be waiting in the shadows when she was ready to face them again. Ísa wasn’t willing to give in to them and ruin this gorgeous morning.

The direction of her thoughts had her frowning and realizing that Nayna hadn’t messaged her the previous night. Her best friend always gave Ísa the lowdown on her marriage dates, and given her panic over this latest one, Ísa would’ve reached out herself if she hadn’t been so stressed out over Catie. Either something had gone wrong, or Nayna hadn’t been able to find privacy to make the call until it was too late.

Ísa made a mental note to touch base with her friend once she was back in Auckland.

It was a half hour of comfortable silence later that Sailor nodded at a sign for an upcoming rest stop that had one of those little full-service cafés. “You want to fill up on coffee?” he asked. “It’s been at least an hour since our last one.”

Ísa laughed, wanting desperately to kiss him. “I didn’t know you were a coffee hound.”

---

SAILOR DECIDED HE COULD VERY easily come to live for that laugh. First, however, he’d have to convince her that he planned to cherish her as she deserved. It was dead clear to him that his redhead was used to giving and giving.

Sailor planned to care for her in turn, so she’d smile, so she’d laugh, so she’d play with him. But he knew it wouldn’t be easy. Not with the demons that howled at him to achieve his ambitions, be something better than the man who’d sired him had ever been. Those demons threatened to possess him body and soul.

No, he vowed. That bastard doesn’t get to steal Ísa from me.

“Coffee is nectar from the gods,” he said on the heels of that mental promise. “I try to keep it to two cups a day, but sometimes I crack under the pressure of its siren call.”

Ísa laughed again. “In that case, we’d better pull in.”

Jumping out at the coffee stop before he could, she said, “You’re driving, so I’ll be the assistant. What kind of coffee do you want?”

“Plain black.” Sailor took in the delight in those pretty gray-green eyes and barely resisted the urge to tug her back into the vehicle and into his lap. “I like coffee that puts hair on my chest—though I prefer yours hairless, just in case you were getting ideas.”

She blew him a kiss before turning to walk to the café, the scarlet of her hair brilliant in the morning light and the smile she threw him over her shoulder a sucker punch to the gut.

Ísa Rain was perilously closer to owning his heart.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to convince her that he could be trusted with hers.