Celeste bowed her head, and he watched as she drew shapes in the grass with her toe. “I don’t think parents fully understand how their actions affect their children. I’m conscious of what I do and what I say to Arianna. I wish her father—I wish her father was as considerate. It’s hard sometimes, but I promised myself I’d never say a bad word about him in her presence, and I haven’t. It’s his loss he doesn’t have a better relationship with his daughter. She wants to see him so much, but he’s always too busy, and he never comes through to help me out like he says he will.”
The dull tone of her voice called out to his protective instincts. He took a step toward her and stopped. The need to shield her from pain rushed through him, but it wasn’t his place. He balled his hands into fists, fighting the urge.
“You shouldn’t have to do it alone,” he said, anger and frustration hardening his voice.
Celeste looked up at him, an embarrassed expression on her face. “I didn’t mean to drop my personal problems on you. I’m upset because I spoke to my mother tonight and found out my ex made more promises he knows he won’t keep. I wanted to send Arianna to science camp this summer, but I won’t be able to. He couldn’t come up with a lousy hundred and fifty dollars to help me pay for the camp, and I told him about it months ago. If he’d sent the money like he promised . . .”
Roarke’s biceps tensed under the force of his tightening fists.
“Which camp?” he asked, to distract himself from the foolish idea of gathering her close to comfort her.
“The one at Fernbank Museum. She really likes science, learning about animals and rocks and everything in between. I thought she would enjoy it.”
“I’m familiar with the program. I volunteered there as part of my community service requirements for tenure. You’re right, they have a good program.”
“Yeah, well, it’s too late now,” Celeste said despondently.
Her eyes strayed to the water. The forlorn look on her face cut through him, and he wanted to take the weight of worry from her shoulders, protect her from the storm buffeting her emotions.
“Go ahead and get your feet wet,” he encouraged. “The water’s cool and refreshing.”
“I think I will,” she said, arranging a semblance of a smile on her face. She made her way across the yard down to the sand.
Go inside, Roarke.
If only his feet would obey the command from his brain. Instead, they followed her down to the water, away from the house, where darkness hovered more closely.
“Ooh, it’s cold.” The temperature didn’t stop her from splashing through the shallow waves like a child. She laughed, glancing back at him over her shoulder. “You’re so lucky to have this place,” she said, her eyes aglow with newfound pleasure.
He stood there, entranced, as she swished the water around with her feet. He liked watching her. She had a beautiful mouth, for one. Whenever a smile played across the lavish symmetry of her lips, a stab of pleasure filled him. In the moonlight, her skin looked as smooth as it felt—like satin.
Without thinking, past caring, he walked into the ocean near her and kicked water at her calves.
“Hey!” With a look of surprise and brimming with laughter, she turned on him.
His chest swelled, and he treaded on dangerous ground. But now he’d heard it, her laughter was a drug. Like a drug fiend, he wanted to prod and tease her so he could hear the melodious tones continue to drift from her throat and watch her eyes dance with merriment.
She returned the splash, and before long, the game got out of hand. “Wait! Wait!” Celeste squeaked, rushing away from him to escape getting doused when he bent down and scooped up two handfuls of salt water.
“Where do you think you’re going? Come back here and take your punishment.”
He abandoned the terrible deed to race after her. With little effort he closed the gap between them and caught up to her on the grass, grabbing her around the waist.
“You started it!” Celeste squirmed, forcing him to tighten his hold.
Grabbing and holding her was the first mistake. Her soft buttocks pressed against his pelvis. For her part, Celeste suddenly stilled, though her breathing remained labored. Slender fingers clutched his wrists, but not to remove his hands. Her hold on him was tight, as if she were binding herself to him.