Treasures Lost, Treasures Found

other.
    Kate wondered how long he’d been there, and how, when she could feel the waves of tension and need, she hadn’t known the moment he’d stepped onto the beach. Her mind, her body—always so calm and cooperative—sprang to fevered life when she saw him. Kate knew she couldn’t fight that, only the outcome. Still she wanted him. She told herself that just wanting was asking for disaster, but that didn’t stop the need. If she ran from him now she’d admit defeat. Instead Kate took the first step across the sand toward him.
    The thin white cotton of her skirt flapped around her, billowing, then clinging to the slender body he already knew. Her skin seemed very pale, her eyes very dark. Again Ky thought of mermaids, of illusions and of foolish dreams.
    “You always liked the beach before a storm,” Kate said when she reached him. She couldn’t smile though shetold herself she would. She wanted, though she told herself she wouldn’t.
    “It won’t be much longer.” He hooked his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans. “If you didn’t bring your car, you’re going to get wet.”
    “I was visiting Linda.” Kate turned her head to look back at the rain. No, it wouldn’t be much longer. “It doesn’t matter,” she murmured. “Storms like this are over just as quickly as they begin.” Storms like this, she thought, and like others. “I met Hope. You were right.”
    “About what?”
    “She looks like you.” This time she did manage to smile, though the tension was balled at the base of her neck. “Did you know she named a doll after you?”
    “A dragon’s not a doll,” Ky corrected. His lips curved. He could resist a great deal, be apathetic about a great deal more, but he found it virtually impossible to do either when it came to his niece. “She’s a great kid. Hell of a sailor.”
    “You take her out on your boat?”
    He heard the astonishment and shrugged it away. “Why not? She likes the water.”
    “I just can’t picture you…” Breaking off, Kate turned back to the sea again. No, she couldn’t picture him entertaining a child with toy dragons and boat rides, just as she couldn’t picture him in the business world with ledgers and accountants. “You surprise me,” she said a bit more casually. “About a lot of things.”
    He wanted to reach out and touch her hair, wrap thoseloose blowing ends around his finger. He kept his hands in his pockets. “Such as?”
    “Linda told me you own the Roost.”
    He didn’t have to see her face to know it would hold that thoughtful, considering expression. “That’s right, or most of it anyway.”
    “You didn’t mention it when we were having dinner there.”
    “Why should I?” She didn’t have to see him to know he shrugged. “Most people don’t care who owns a place as long as the food’s good and the service is quick.”
    “I guess I’m not most people.” She said it quietly, so quietly the words barely carried over the sound of the waves. Even so, Ky tensed.
    “Why would it matter to you?”
    Before she could think, she turned back, her eyes full of emotion. “Because it all matters. The whys, the hows. Because so much has changed and so much is the same. Because I want…” Breaking off, she took a step back. The look in her eyes turned to panic just before she started to dash away.
    “What?” Ky demanded, grabbing her arm. “What do you want?”
    “I don’t know!” she shouted, unaware that it was the first time she’d done so in years. “I don’t know what I want. I don’t understand why I don’t.”
    “Forget about understanding.” He pulled her closer, holding her tighter when she resisted—or tried to. “Forget everything that’s not here and now.” The nights of restlessness and frustration already had his mercurial temperament on edge. Seeing her when he hadn’t expected to made his emotions teeter. “You walked away from me once, but I won’t crawl for you again. And you,” he added with his eyes suddenly dark, his face suddenly close, “you damn well won’t walk away as easy this time, Kate. Not this time.”
    With his arms wrapped around her he held her against him. His lips hovered above hers, threatening, promising. She couldn’t tell. She didn’t care. It was their taste she wanted, their pressure, no matter how harsh, how demanding. No matter what the consequence. Intellect and emotion might battle, and the battle might be eternal. Yet as she stood there crushed