Zack Tyndale heard the wind howling and hurried around the sprawling one-story mansion, closing windows and doors. The house had been built to withstand hurricanes, so he knew he’d be safe in a normal storm, but he liked to be prepared. He rushed outside to make sure his small yacht was secure in the harbor and nothing was lying around that would be blown away. Thankfully, the previous owner had been prepared for these gales. Everything from the patio furniture to the grill was secured to the concrete, and all outside tools and toys were stored nicely in the convenient storage containers.

Zack loved his island and the local flair to his mansion. Such a nice break to be here in the usually calm Caribbean after the hell his life had become in America. He missed his mom and his niece, Chalise, but there was no other reason for him to stay and deal with his father and the constant attention for his failed Olympic hopes.

His satellite phone rang, and he smiled. “Hi, Mom.”

“Son. It’s about time you came back to work.”

Zack’s body stiffened. So his father was using his mom’s phone to try to make his demands now. No way was he going back. The damage had been done, the barriers erected, and he wasn’t ready to forgive and forget. “I’m not coming back to work for you. Ever.”

“I need you, son, and your mother and Chalise need you. Stop being selfish and come home.”

Selfish? His father dared call him selfish? “The world doesn’t revolve around you, Dad.” He knew his father would hate that casual term. “I’m happy here. I don’t need your money or your company.”

“But think of the time you could spend with Chalise.”

Of course his father would hit him with the one thing that tore him apart: not being with his niece. “I should have custody of her; you know that’s what Anne would want.”

A heavy sigh came across the line. “I’ll pay you anything to have you here with your family.”

It always came back to money. His father wanted him because Zack had proven himself brilliant with business and was able to charm even their toughest associates. He couldn’t be the pawn of a man like his father, not even for Chalise. “I’ll never work for you again.” He hung up the phone and stormed onto the patio.

Zack watched the wind whip through his trees. The solar lights the original owner had set up on the docks and near the beach swayed. The energy of the storm and fury at his father raced through him, making him want to go run for a while. Rain started to splatter onto the pool deck and landscaped flowerbeds and grass. Protected under the large overhang, he stretched for a minute. Maybe he’d go inside and cook or clean something, since he couldn’t run. When the weather was bad, it wasn’t as easy to keep busy, and being bored meant thinking about what had happened to his life. Thinking wasn’t something he liked to do.

A few steps from the French doors, he heard the high whine of a motor. Zack whipped around and searched the ocean beyond. There were no lights, but the motor sound was unmistakable. What kind of an idiot would be out on the water with no lights and in what sounded like a small boat?

Zack raced past his pool and gardens and took the steps to the beach two at a time. He could just make out a small boat hurtling through the water. He didn’t even have time to be angry that someone was invading his sanctuary as he saw the angle they traveled toward the island. “No, not that way!” he yelled, though they couldn’t possibly hear him.

Zack sprinted through the sand and onto his dock. He kept one eye on the boat as he ran the length of the dock, waving his arms and yelling, “Turn! Turn!” Large boulders and a former shipwreck resided just under the water, exactly where that boat was heading. Any other angle into the harbor was deep and safe to take even in his yacht, but this idiot was coming straight for the shallow waters of the dock instead. Why weren’t they slowing even though they were within a hundred feet of the dock?

“Stop!” he screamed. “Turn!”

The sickening crunch was louder than the howling wind and rain. The rear of the boat flung into the air, and the lone passenger flew forward and disappeared into the water. Zack dove off the dock, surfacing quickly, and used strong strokes to cross the distance. Water from the uneven waves splashed into his face, making it hard to see. The person bobbed up out of the water and started swimming in his direction. That was a relief. From the hair streaming around her, he assumed it was a woman.

They came within a few feet of each other, and Zack slowed and treaded water. “Are you okay?”

“I-I think so.”

“Can you make it to the dock?” Lights reflecting from the beach showed a mop of dark hair and a beautiful face.

In answer, she started slowly swimming that direction, but she hadn’t gone four strokes before she swayed and rolled over onto her back. That’s when Zack noticed the cut on her head. The sea turned the blood a watery pink. She’d definitely hit her head on one of the rocks or maybe the old shipwreck.

“You’re not okay.”

“I can make it.” She started to kick. A wave rolled over her face and she jerked up, coughing and spluttering, but bravely kept trying to stay afloat, beating at the water with her arms and legs.

She was tough and not a complainer. Nice.

“I’ve got you.” Zack looped his arm under her armpit and over her chest and tugged her back to the dock. She had a small build, but her clothes must’ve been waterlogged because she seemed to weigh a ton. Zack was in shape, but he tired quickly.

Finally, they made it to the dock and the woman clung to the edge. Zack grabbed hold and heaved himself out of the water then helped lift her up. She collapsed onto her back and released a loud breath. “Oh, thank you. I thought it was time to reacquaint myself with Saint Peter.”

“Saint Peter?” She’d hit her head hard, or she was crazy. He looked over her fancy, waterlogged dress and the diamonds sparkling at her throat. She’d been out in the ocean like that, without a lifejacket? Crazy it might be or with quite a good story to tell.

“You know—the angel at the pearly gates.”

Zack let out a surprised laugh. “Glad you put that off for a little while.”

“Me, too.” She sat up and touched the small gash in her head. Blood trickled between her fingertips. “Ouch.”

“I bet.” Zack pushed his way to his feet and offered her a hand. The wind whipped his wet T-shirt around him. He was glad he shaved his head and didn’t have hair whipping in his face like she did. “Let’s get you up to the house and cleaned up.”

She placed her hand in his but wavered as he helped her up. Zack wrapped his other arm around her waist and lifted her onto her feet. She swayed.

“Can you walk?”

Her eyes filled with stubborn pride. “Of course I can walk.”

She pulled away from him, took one step, teetered off the dock, and splashed back into the water.

“Oh, boy.” Zack shook his head. He hadn’t smelled alcohol on her breath, but that had to be the explanation. Fancy dress, alone on a boat in the ocean at night. He’d have to help her tonight, then load her onto his yacht tomorrow and get her to Belize. If she had any money, it was probably sunk with her little boat. He’d get her to where she needed to go and be done with this mess. Oddly enough, he didn’t mind the excitement. It was a good contrast to his normally sedate lifestyle.

She came up to the surface sputtering and flailing. Zack knelt down, put his hands under her armpits, and hefted her back onto the dock. He stood slowly, supporting both of them, then swung her off her feet and into his arms. Despite himself, he noticed how nicely she fit against him. It had been a long while since he’d been around an attractive, unrelated woman. “Shall we try this again?”

“Good plan.” Her voice rumbled against his chest, and he kind of liked it. “I must’ve thumped my head harder than I thought.”

“Or something,” he muttered.

Her head whipped up, her brown eyes full of fire. “I’m not drunk, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m …” She quickly looked down again, not meeting his gaze.

“You’re …” he encouraged. He’d like to hear her story, and he did believe her that she wasn’t drunk. Her speech was too lucid and her breath smelled too clean.

“I can’t. I don’t know who to trust.” She grabbed on to his arm. “Oh, holy monkey balls!”

Zack jerked in surprise and almost dropped her as she squirmed in his arms. “What are you doing now? You want to fall in the water again?” They’d reached the end of the dock, but she could still fall in the shallow water.

“I’ve got to find something. Please. Can you help me look in the water? Back where my boat is?” Her eyes were wide and frantic.

“Right now?” Zack gestured to the waves building as the storm increased in intensity. “No! You’re hurt. It’s dark. And there’s a storm.” His four-year-old niece had more common sense than this woman, and Chalise hadn’t spoken a word in two years.

The woman deflated and burrowed herself into his arms. Zack liked this quite a bit better than her struggling. He tightened his hold on her. Hmm, her shape was really … shapely.

“In the morning?” she asked.

“What?”

“Could you help me find something that was in my boat in the morning?”

Zack plunged off the dock and into the sand. He paused to readjust his grip on her. She wrapped her bare arms around his neck and glanced up at him with liquid brown eyes. Those eyes were big and pretty. He’d probably do about anything she asked, pressed against him like she was and arousing feelings he’d denied himself the past two years in his self-induced exile.

“Um, sure. If the storm’s gone.” The boat and everything in it would probably be pummeled and scattered by the wind and waves.

“Oh, thank you.” She tightened her hold on him and cuddled up against his chest.

Zack trudged through the sand and up the stairs. He should’ve been tired from the effort of the night, but his heart was pumping quickly, and he felt like he could run miles with her cuddled up to him.

They made it to the pool deck, and he set her on her feet by the outside shower, keeping her close to his side. He rinsed off his feet quickly and then hefted her up again.

“I think I can walk now,” she protested.

“At least there’s no water you can fall into here.”

She laughed softly, and he kept her in his arms. He didn’t want to let her walk just yet. They reached the patio door, and he had to set her down again. He opened the box of beach towels and handed a couple to her. She wrapped one around her shoulders, then proceeded to try to dry her dress.

“It’s okay,” Zack said. “The floor’s slate. A little water won’t hurt it.” It would actually be good to get his house a little dirty. He dusted and cleaned, but there wasn’t much dirt that accumulated with one person.

He picked her up and carried her through the door and into the great room.

She glanced around and whistled. “I like your house.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you … alone?” Her brow wrinkled, and her voice held fear for the first time.

“Yes.”

She nodded, but didn’t look up at him. Her body stiffened in his arms.

“Hey, you came to me, remember?” Zack tried to tease, but it had a reverse effect. She tried to squirm out of his arms. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

He set her on a barstool in the kitchen. “Let me look at that gash, and then you can shower and get cleaned up.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line, her eyes filled with apprehension.

Zack didn’t know if it would make any difference, but he tried to reassure her. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

She nodded, but from the way she was twisting her hands together, she obviously wasn’t comfortable with him.

“What’s your name?”

“Maddie,” she murmured.

“Short for Madison?” He glanced over her smooth, light brown skin and long dark hair. Even after the trauma she’d just gone through, and with smudges of makeup under her eyes, she was gorgeous. He couldn’t imagine how good she’d look all fixed up.

“Madeline.”

“Pretty name.” Zack wasn’t usually so soft, but she was like a scared kitten that would bolt if he didn’t set down the milk and step away. Being mostly alone for two years, he hadn’t realized he might actually want some company until it landed in his lap. Walking to the medicine cabinet, he found a large Band-Aid and Neosporin, then got a couple of paper towels and moistened them. She was staring up at him with those liquid eyes when he came back. He lifted the paper towels and gently pressed it against her wound. The blood had stopped and clotted. It didn’t look deep. Blotting away as much as he could, he was surprised at the charge between them. He wanted to keep staring at her, and he wanted to pick her up in his arms again.

“Thanks.” She held his gaze, and as the seconds ticked by, he could feel that her fear of him lessened. But why was she afraid? Had someone hurt her?

“I guess we should wait on the Band-Aid until after you shower.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Are you thirsty? Hungry?”

“Water sounds wonderful.”

He got a glass of ice water for her and one for himself. They sat there in silence for a few seconds. The water tasted good. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. Maddie appeared to have finally relaxed around him. Her shoulders were lowered, and she wasn’t clenching her hands together.

She glanced down at her dress. “You don’t happen to have any clothes my size?” She gave a light laugh.

Zack wished he could return the laugh. “Actually, I do, or at least pretty close.”

Her eyes lost the sparkle they’d just gained. “Girlfriend?”

Zack found that amusing. He’d had plenty of girlfriends when he’d been a world-class athlete and well-known heir to a fortune. Now he had none. “No. I have some of my sister’s clothes here.” Because his mom had been tossing them out, dealing with the loss in her own way. Zack had acted like a sentimental fool and stolen some from the Goodwill bag.

“Will she care if I wear them?”

Zack’s lips tightened. “She’s dead.” He spun around before she could respond or those dark eyes could fill with pity. Then he strode from the room, throwing a glance back over his shoulder. “Stay there. I’ll get the clothes and some other stuff for you and put it in the guest room; then I’ll come help you.”

“Thanks,” she called after him.

“Sure.” Zack hurried down the hallway as if he could escape the injustice of his only sister, Anne, being ripped from his life. Her husband, Tim, had been killed in the same small plane accident. Tim had been his best friend. Now his niece was an orphan, and Zack was without friends and supporters in his fight against his father. His mom was great, but she had no backbone. Running had been his only option. At least he was a fast runner.

Maddie sat exactly where he’d left her, watching his muscled form striding from the open great room. She hadn’t even asked his name, but he was obviously an athlete with that tall, lean build. The striations in his calves rocked. Why was he so familiar? The first time she’d glanced up into his handsome face with the chocolate skin and eyes, she’d felt the recognition but couldn’t place him. His head was shaved bald, but he didn’t need hair to be much too attractive. He was obviously wealthy and alone on this island in this huge house. Maybe he was somebody famous.

The house was unreal. Floor-to-ceiling windows circled the open great room. The kitchen was bright with white cabinets and stainless steel appliances. The red and teal-blue accents wove into the tans and grays of the granite countertop and slate floor and were used in the decorations and throw pillows on the white and tan furniture. It all brought the feeling of comfort and vacation.

Maddie was embarrassed she’d reacted poorly when he admitted they were alone. He wasn’t Bello, and he was right—she’d come to him. How crazy all of this was. Two weeks ago, she and her mom had been celebrating her master’s degree in the middle of the mountains of Montana. Now she was surrounded by water, her father was most likely dead, and Bello was probably after her. Did she dare trust this guy? How could she not trust him? He was all she had.

She was a mess. And losing that packet of papers … She groaned. So dumb.

She placed her hand over her chest and felt the bulge of the flash drive in her bra. Thank heavens it was in a sealed packet and she hadn’t ruined it with her dunking in the ocean. She could ask to use this man’s computer and find the information she needed about her father, find out what he wanted her to get to Homeland Security and what fortune he’d left for her. But at this moment she had no money, passports, or number to call. Did her father say the number for help was on the flash drive, too? Would this guy have a satellite phone or something, living out here isolated like this?

It hurt her head to think about it all. She was still dizzy from hitting the rock and trying to swim with this dress on. The guy holding her and carrying her up to his house had been the safest she’d felt since her father had picked her up at the San Juan airport a week and a half ago.

The man walked back into the room. Maddie smiled to try to show him she wasn’t scared of him, but the situation felt kind of sticky. He was well built, and they were alone on his island; he could do whatever he wanted to her, and no one would know she’d even been here. No, she couldn’t think like that. He’d done nothing but be kind to her. She had so many questions for him. He probably had more for her. Crap. What was she going to tell him? Could she fake amnesia? She had hit her head pretty good.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Zack.”

Maddie stuck out her hand. He shook it with a firm grip and a smile. She liked the contrast of his brown skin and white teeth. She wondered if he had different nationalities in his family line like she did. Maybe African and European? She studied his hands—beautifully formed with long, tapered fingers. “Nice to meet you, Zack. You seem really familiar to me.”

He dropped her grip and the smile, eyeing her like she might gouge his eyes out. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Swooping her into his arms again, he marched into a hallway also lined with windows.

Obviously he must be someone famous, or he wouldn’t have cared that he looked familiar. He’d gotten testy when he’d told her about his sister, too, but she didn’t blame him for that. She’d wanted a sibling her whole life and couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to have a sibling, then lose her to death.

Maddie found herself relaxing and enjoyed leaning against his muscled chest, which was distinctly displayed by the wet T-shirt. He smelled like salt water and laundry detergent.

They entered a large bedroom with a white four-poster bed and bedroom furniture. The slate floor was covered with a plush rug that was tan, orange, and blue. The bedspread weaved the three colors together nicely. The decorations were nautical and fun with huge windows covered by retractable blinds. No way a single guy decorated this place. The window panes rattled from the wind, and Maddie shivered.

Zack pulled her closer. “It’s okay, Maddie, you’re safe here.”

“What if the storm worsens?”

Zack smiled down at her. “The house and windows are built to withstand a category-five hurricane, but if it really gets that bad, there’s a storm shelter underneath that we could live in comfortably for a few weeks until it was safe to come out.”

“Wow. You’re prepared.”

“You have no idea.” He walked into the attached bathroom. “Let’s get you into a shower.”

“I think I’d better do that one alone.”

Zack set her on her feet and arched an eyebrow. Fire raced through her body. Oh my, he was appealing, but she couldn’t let her guard down with a man she didn’t know.

“You might fall down again.”

“I’ll take my chances.” She took a step away and threw her shoulders back.

He grinned, his cheeks crinkling irresistibly. “Okay. Make a lot of noise if you fall so I know to come help.”

“You are not coming to help.” Maddie jutted out her chin. “I’ll crawl around if I have to.”

He chuckled and held up his hands defensively. “Gotcha. I’m going to take my own shower, then.” He pointed to the countertop. “There are some clothes, towels, and girly lotion and stuff.”

“Thank you.” Thoughtful, wasn’t he?

The door clicked shut. Maddie stripped out of the ruined dress, draping it over the tub to dry, and set the diamond necklace on the counter. She moved slowly as she showered. It felt heavenly to wash her hair with some kind of coconut shampoo. The cut on her forehead only stung when she rinsed it. Thankfully, it wasn’t bleeding anymore. After she dried off, she sorted through the pile of clothes and then slipped into a cute romper dress with a colorful red-and-blue pattern. She tightened the waist, but it was still pretty big. There weren’t any shoes. Her flimsy heels must’ve fallen off when she crashed. Maybe she could find them in the morning.

Rubbing some hair serum into her long hair and then brushing it out and moisturizing her face, she almost felt normal again. She eyed herself critically in the mirror. Her skin was tanned enough that it looked fine without makeup, and the eyelash extensions her mom had insisted she get before graduation made her eyes passable, but what she wouldn’t give for some lipstick. She rubbed a little hair serum on her lips and found that it made them shine and didn’t taste awful. She laughed at herself. It was dumb to be vain when her life was in danger, but Zack was so extremely handsome she wanted to look her best.

When she re-entered the great room, she was impressed to see Zack at the stove wearing a T-shirt and cargo shorts, stirring some boiling noodles and a pot of something that smelled delectable. Her stomach grumbled. She’d been too stressed to realize how hungry she was, and it was late enough that he had to have already eaten. He was very thoughtful. “You cook?”

He turned and smiled. “Can’t live by yourself with no McDonald’s and not learn.” His eyes roved over her. “Sorry, the clothes are big.”

“They’re wonderful. Thank you.”

“Sit down, please, and I’ll bring your food.” He gestured to a square kitchen table in a nook with even more windows. It seemed the entire house was glass. Rain pattered against the windows, but the wind was calmer now.

“I can help, you know.”

“Maybe tomorrow. Tonight, I want you to relax.”

Maddie smiled at the thought of still being here tomorrow. She couldn’t wait to see the view from these windows. She sat and watched Zack bustle around the large kitchen. Neither of them said anything, but he caught her looking at him and grinned a few times. A lump rose in her throat as she thought back through the night. Gratitude for being safe and regret over her father’s wasted life twisted into odd feelings of confusion and a longing to just go home.

Setting a plate of noodles with what looked like homemade marinara and freshly grated parmesan in front of her, Zack dished up his own plate and then sat across from her.

Maddie tried a bite. It was better than the fancy food her father’s chef served on the yacht. “You’re a good cook. Is this a secret family recipe?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, from the family’s hired chef.”

“Your mom didn’t cook?” She found herself wanting to know more about him.

“No.” He laughed again, as if the very thought was humorous. “When she comes to visit, I wait on her hand and foot. She’s been so pampered she’s not sure how to take care of herself anymore.”

“That’s oddly sad.”

“Isn’t it? But she’s great. I love having her around.” He shook his head and took a drink. “You want to tell me how you ended up in the ocean in a fancy dress all by yourself?”

She studied the bite of noodles, marinara, and Parmesan cheese on her fork. “Um … no?”

Zack rocked back. He studied her for several long seconds. Maddie fidgeted and thought through every angle. She could lie to him, she could tell him part of the story, or she could trust him. She just wasn’t sure where to go with it yet.

“Okay,” he finally said.

“Okay?” she echoed, deflating into her chair.

He elevated one shoulder. “You can tell me when you’re ready.”

Relief poured through her. “Thank you.”

“I can take you into Belize tomorrow and help you get where you need to go. Might be a problem with no documents.”

“No. I can’t go to Belize. I have to go to America.” She had no clue why she couldn’t go to Belize, but she had to trust that her father wouldn’t say that if it wasn’t dangerous for her there.

“America!” He shook his head quickly as panic filled his eyes. Maddie hadn’t realized how calming his influence was until it was gone, and he was obviously agitated. “I’m sorry, but I’m not taking you to America. I’ll help you figure out a way to fly there from Belize or Honduras.”

“I can’t. My father told me not to go to Belize or Honduras. It’s …” She sighed and finally admitted, “Too dangerous for me.”

“Why?”

Maddie paused, then exhaled slowly. “Why don’t we sleep on it?”

His eyebrows quirked up.

“I’m not thinking straight. Maybe in the morning I’ll be able to explain better.”

He nodded but looked unconvinced.

Zack couldn’t sleep—hadn’t even tried to sleep. This woman had him stirred up in so many different directions he didn’t know which way to let his brain go. He was accustomed to his life of productive solitude—cleaning, cooking, fixing up his house and taking care of the grounds outside, managing his investments via satellite, running, swimming, and reading books. He was happy and didn’t need anyone.

Then this beautiful woman crash-landed on his harbor in an evening dress. Part of him wanted to hold her in his arms again, and part of him wanted to throw her off his island. Who would take a fishing boat through an ocean in an evening dress and have no explanation to share? What if she was a lunatic? That might be a best-case scenario, because if she wasn’t crazy, she was definitely trouble—the kind of trouble Zack lived alone on an island to avoid. But she’d seemed sane, and she’d felt … nice in his arms. Okay, so much more than nice, but he wasn’t going there. It could easily be argued that he was a depraved recluse and any woman would feel more than nice in his arms.

He tiptoed up to her bedroom door for the fifth time. If she found him lurking out here, would she get that panic-stricken look in her eyes again? Leaning close to the door, he simply listened, not sure what he was hoping to hear. Quiet sobbing reached his ears, and he reared back. She was crying. Dang. A female creature was bad enough, but a crying one? A weepy kind of woman was scarier to face than America after ruining the entire country’s hopes. He turned to leave, but he could almost hear his sister’s voice: “Treat women with respect, or I’ll kick your can.”

He exhaled and couldn’t help but smile. He missed Anne more than he would ever admit to anyone. He knocked softly on the door and waited. Finally, a sniffle and a whispered “yes?” came through the door.

“Are you okay? I heard … crying.”

She opened the door a crack. The storm had blown over, and all was calm outside, but all was not calm for Maddie. A lamp by the bedside revealed red, puffy eyes. Zack could swear his sister’s ghost must’ve nudged him forward, because no sane man who wanted to stay sane, happy, and alone in the world would walk toward a distraught beauty and enfold her in his arms.

Maddie jerked in surprise as his arms wrapped around her; then she leaned into him, and her arms found their way around him, too. Zack rested his cheek on top of her head and simply held her. After a few minutes, which stirred all kinds of longings and romantic feelings he had no right to be feeling with this stranger, he hoped he’d offered her some kind of comfort. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Maddie bit at her lower lip for a second, then spit out, “I think my father’s dead.” She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

“I’m sorry.” More questions raced through Zack’s mind, but he didn’t feel it was the right time to ask if that was why she’d shown up on his island. “Were you close to him?”

“Not really. I only saw him a few times growing up. He always took my mom on trips, but never me. He asked me to come to the Caribbean to celebrate graduating with my master’s degree. I thought it was going to be this great vacation, but then …” Her voice trailed off. “Are you close to your father?”

The question was a surprise. Zack’s arms fell away from her, and he stepped back. “No. I wish I’d only seen him a few times growing up.” He forced a smile and pushed memories of his father back into the closed compartment he thought he’d sealed tight enough that nothing would leak out—especially at moments like this. How would he feel if his father was dead? Probably relieved and guiltier than ever. “Do you think you can sleep now?”

“Probably not, but I really appreciate the, um, comfort.”

“Anytime.” Zack started. How had he said that and actually meant it? She would be gone in the morning. He’d figure out where he could take her that she deemed safe, and he’d never see her again. There wasn’t going to be an “anytime.” He backed out of her room, muttered “good night,” and fled down the wide hallway.

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