Passionate Pregnancies. Maya Banks

if you aren’t … nice.”

      He shrugged. “Bastard has been used on more than one occasion to describe me. This morning being the most recent. I’ve been called a lot of things. Ruthless. Driven. Ambitious. Son of a bitch. You name it. But nice? I can’t say that being thoughtful was ever a priority. It’s not that I intended to be a jerk, but I was never really concerned about it.”

      “Well, you were wonderful to my grandmother and I loved you for it,” she said. “You were wonderful to me, too. Maybe you don’t associate with the right people.”

      He laughed at that. “Maybe you’re right. I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

      Bryony’s grandmother appeared on the front porch and waved for them to come in. Bryony reached over and squeezed Rafael’s hand. “Stop worrying so much about what you were or weren’t. No one says you have to stay the same forever. Maybe you were ready for a change. Here you could be whoever you wanted because no one knew you before. You got to have a fresh start.”

      He raised her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “What I think is that you’re a special woman, Bryony Morgan.”

      She smiled again and opened her car door. As she got out, she waved at her grandmother. “We’re coming!”

      Mamaw smiled and waved, then waited with the screen door open while Rafael and Bryony made their way up the steps.

      “Good afternoon to you,” Mamaw said cheerfully.

      She pulled Bryony into a hug and then did the same with Rafael, who looked a little dumbstruck by the reception.

      “Come in, come in, you two. I just sweetened a pitcher of tea and it’s ready to pour. I’ll get us some glasses. Have a seat on the back porch if you like. It’s a beautiful day and the water is gorgeous.”

      Bryony tugged Rafael to the glass doors leading onto a deck that was similar in build to her own. The wood was older and more worn but it added character. The railings were dotted with potted plants and flowers. Colorful knickknacks and decorative garden figurines were scattered here and there, giving the deck an eclectic feel.

      Bryony often thought it resembled a rummage sale, but it so fit her grandmother’s personality that it never failed to bring a smile to Bryony’s face.

      Mamaw didn’t much believe in throwing things away. She wasn’t a hoarder and she would part with stuff after a while, but she liked to collect items she said made her house more homey.

      “It’s beautiful out here,” Rafael said. “It’s so quiet and peaceful. There aren’t many stretches of private beach like this. It must be amazing to have this all to yourself.”

      Bryony settled into one of the padded deck chairs and angled her head up to catch the full sun on her face. “It is,” she said, her eyes closed. “The whole island is like this. It’s why we’re so resistant to the idea of commercially developing parts of it. Once the first bit of ‘progress’ creeps in, it’s like a snowball. Soon the island would just be another tourist stop with cheesy T-shirts and cheap trinkets.”

      “What I purchased was just a drop in the bucket for an island this size. Surely you don’t begrudge any development. You could have the best of both worlds. The majority of the island would remain unspoiled, a quiet oasis, while a very small section would be developed so that others could be exposed to your paradise.”

      She dropped her head back down, opening her eyes to look at him. “You sound just like a salesman. The truth is, the whole sharing-our-paradise-with-others spiel is precisely what we don’t want to do. Call us selfish but there are numerous other islands that tourists can go to if they want sun and sand. We just want to be left alone. Many of the people who live here retired to this island precisely because it was private and unspoiled. Others have made their whole lives here and to change it now seems grossly unfair.”

      “Having one resort wouldn’t ruin the integrity of the island and it would boost the economy and bring in an influx of cash from those tourists you all despise.”

      She smiled patiently, unwilling to become angry and frustrated and ruin a perfect day. Besides, biting his head off didn’t serve her purpose.

      “We don’t need an influx of cash into our economy,” she said gently.

      He arched a disbelieving eyebrow. “Everyone can always use a boost in capital.”

      She shook her head. “No, the thing is, many of the people who retired here left high-paying corporate jobs. Hell, some of them were CEOs who sold their companies or left the management to their sons and daughters and came to Moon Island to escape their high-pressure jobs. They have more money than they’ll ever spend.”

      “And the rest? The ones who’ve lived here all their lives?”

      She shrugged. “They’re happy. We have shrimpers who are third- and fourth-generation fishermen. We have local shop owners, restaurant workers, grocery store clerks. Basically everyone’s job fulfills a need on the island. Selling souvenirs to tourists isn’t a need. Neither is providing them entertainment. We have a comfortable living here. Some of us don’t have much but we make it and we’re happy.”

      “There is a certain weirdness to this whole place,” Rafael said with an amused tone. “Like stepping into a time warp. I’m shocked that you have internet access, cable and cellular towers.”

      “We keep up,” she said. “We just don’t particularly care about getting ahead. There is a certain je ne sais quoi about our lifestyle, our people and our island. In a lot of ways it can’t be described, only experienced. As you did for those weeks you were here.”

      “And yet you were going to walk away from your life here. For me.”

      She went still. “Yes, I’ve already said so. I mean I assumed I would have to make changes. You run a business. You have a home in New York. I could hardly expect you to give all that up and live here. I expected it to be an adjustment but I thought it—you—would be worth it.”

      “Given your passion for this island and the people here, I’m a little awed that you thought I was worth that kind of sacrifice.”

      “You sell yourself short, Rafael. Don’t you think you’re worth it? That someone could and should love you enough to give up important things to be with you?”

      He averted his gaze, staring out over the water as if he had no answer. His body language had changed and he held himself stiffly. His jaw tightened and then he made an effort to relax.

      “Maybe I’ve never met anyone who thought that much of me,” he finally said.

      “Again, you’re associating with the wrong people. And you’ve definitely been dating the wrong women.”

      The mischievous tone in her voice wrung a smile out of him.

      “Why do I get the feeling that I probably tried like hell to keep you at arm’s length and you were having none of that?”

      She frowned. “Not at all. You seemed …” Her expression grew more thoughtful. “You were definitely open to what happened between us. You certainly did your share of pursuing. Put it this way. I didn’t have to try very hard to get past that stuffy exterior of yours.”

      He shook his head. “I’m beginning to think I have a double running around impersonating me. I know I keep saying this, but the man you describe is so far out of my realm of understanding that he seems a complete and utter stranger. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I suffered the head injury before I arrived here. Not after.”

      “Does it appall you that much?”

      He jerked his gaze to her. “No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. It’s not that I’m shamed or angry. It’s hard to explain. I mean think for a moment of things you would never do. Think of something so not in line with your personality. Then imagine someone telling you that you did all those things but you can’t remember them. You’d