"I'll be certain to bring that to Mr. Vila's attention," she said, in that smooth and capable voice of hers that, now he knew what lay behind it, made him burn. "But in the meantime, I think we need to take another look at those figures before we jump to any conclusions."
Maybe it was that he could see her, when the rest of the people on the call could not. No doubt they pictured the usual Dru, in her sleek suits and dangerous heels, her hair tamed and twisted out of view. But he saw the real Dru. Wild hair and that hint of color on her pale skin, the dusting of freckles across her nose and shoulders. Bare feet and a turquoise sarong wrapped around a hot pink bikini. Not in the least bit professional, not that anyone could have told that from her cool voice.
She was magnificent. She was his. And she was going to leave him.
He didn't know what he was going to do about that, he only knew he couldn't allow it. He wouldn't.
But he also knew he'd run out of options.
She propped her head up with one hand as she listened to the call, the various executives talking over each other, all of them completely unaware that Cayo was listening to them dither and bicker. He'd found that it could be highly educational to use Dru in this way, to make them think they were talking to someone far more approachable than Cayo ever was. He'd found it helped ferret out all manner of truths.
He wished the same could be said of Dru herself.
"Mr. Vila prefers to be offered potential solutions when presented with problems, Barney," she said into the speaker. "I can certainly raise your concerns to him, but I suspect he's going to give you a similar reply. Only he won't be quite as polite."
There was some laughter, and she glanced over to smile at him, her gray eyes sparkling nearly silver. Real, he thought with satisfaction. Not one of her work smiles she trotted out to placate or soothe him from time to time, all of which he'd come to hate. But even so, he knew she was still hiding from him. He didn't know what, or why, but he could see the secrets in her eyes. Even now.
Perversely, it only made him want her more.
He'd told her that she was the only person he'd ever had any kind of close relationship with, and the stark truth of that haunted him. She was the only person alive that he had ever trusted. He had allowed her unparalleled access to all parts of his life. To him. No employee had ever been so entrenched in his personal life before and he had certainly never allowed one of his women anywhere near his business. Only Dru bridged those worlds. Only Dru.
And his time with her was almost up.
Giving in to an urge he hardly understood, as if it might ease the sudden heaviness in his chest, Cayo reached over and took her hand. Her eyes flew to his, but he concentrated on the slide of her fingers against his. The way they fitted together so well, even here. He brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. She curved her palm to better fit against his mouth, his jaw, as if she was holding him too, and something shifted inside him. A wall he hadn't known was there tumbled down, and he knew, then, what he must do.
There was one way to keep her. One strategy he hadn't tried. It would keep her close. With him. And so what if it wouldn't be precisely as it had been? It was good enough. He might even like having her as his family, whatever that word really meant. She was the closest thing to it he'd ever known.
He just had to get her to say yes.
* * *
"The helicopter will be here in two hours," Dru said the following morning, careful to sound calm. Matter-of-fact. "The plane will be ready to go once we get to Tahiti."
Cayo stood at the end of the pier, with his back to her. He looked remote, forbidding and still, she wanted to lean into all of that broad strength, rest her head against his shoulder blade. She wanted to let the pure, male scent of him surround her. She wanted to soak in his heat like the sun. Her bare toes curled into the smooth, warm wood beneath her feet and she told herself she was fine. That she felt nothing but relief that it was all almost over, with only the long plane ride left to survive. Perfectly fine.
They had woken up at dawn, wrapped around each other in Cayo's huge bed. He had pulled her over him before she was wholly awake, sliding into her so smoothly she'd wondered whether it was real or a dream. Or goodbye, a harsher voice in her head had suggested. She'd ignored it, leaned down to him and kissed him.
Slowly, they'd explored each other. Long, drugging kisses and endless touches, building a different kind of flame. One that burned long and sweet. One that danced and seduced and drew out the perfection of each caress. One that made them both sigh out their pleasure when it turned white-hot and wild all around them.
Dru felt the glowing embers of that same fire inside her, even now. She'd almost been afraid to track Cayo down after she'd confirmed their arrangements-as if she thought he could see straight through her to that place that would never stop burning for him. That place he could ignite with so little effort-a look, a touch. Would that ever fade? Would time without him dim it? Somehow, she doubted it.
"I suppose no one can stay in paradise forever, can they?" she asked brightly when he didn't turn to face her, trying to make conversation-anything to cover her own nervousness. Anything to pretend it didn't hurt.
"Don't." It was hard. Fierce.
"It's so lovely here." She felt helpless. Unable to stop. "But it's not real, is it?"
He turned then, so dark and ruthless, dressed in no more than a pair of white loose trousers and still, so dangerous. She almost took a step back to keep him from looming over her, but she restrained herself. His eyes slammed into hers.
"But this is?" His accent was more pronounced than usual, and she felt it inside, like an echo. "Your deliberately inane chatter? Surely you know by now that it won't work on me."
That might have stung-it did-but Dru couldn't let herself fall into that trap. There would be no fighting that led to kissing, no explosions of temper or passion or anything else. No shoes. No jumping from the pier. She wouldn't let him sabotage her departure. More importantly, she wouldn't let herself do the same.
"You are far too busy to spend any more time hiding away from the world," she said, and that wasn't idle conversation or flattery. It was the simple truth. He was who he was. "Even here."
"As you pointed out to me only last night," he said gruffly, "the point of hiring the best people in the world is occasionally to delegate responsibilities to them."
"I did say that." She smiled, but it felt hollow. He didn't return it. And last night felt so far away now. As if it belonged to other people. "Cayo..."
She bit her lip and watched his dark amber eyes turn nearly black with a mixture of pain and passion, and her heart seemed to squeeze tight in her chest. If she started crying now, she worried she would never stop. She tried to shove that dangerous ache away.
"Don't make this harder than it has to be," she whispered.
Still, he only stared back at her, as if he were hewn from stone. He looked powerful beyond measure, ruthless and fierce and she thought it might kill her to leave him. That thing inside her that had no pride, no respect, no boundaries whatsoever, might physically take her down as she tried to walk away. Her little masochist within, who wanted him and only him, however she could have him. Whatever that meant.
However much it hurt.
"It doesn't have to be hard," he said then.