No, it was strength that underlay every other part of her. So much strength that she literally took his breath away.
But just because she was strong didn’t mean she wouldn’t be worried about being out in the middle of nowhere with a man who was a good foot taller and eighty pounds heavier.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised her in a voice loud enough to carry over the rain hammering the pavement. “But walking on the side of the road in this storm isn’t safe.”
“I’ve been fine so far.”
Drake had no doubt whatsoever that she would be fine again one day soon, but sometimes it didn’t matter how strong you were—you still needed help to get over the worst parts. “I saw your car on the side of the road a half mile back. I can help by taking you where you’re trying to go.”
He could see how much she hated needing to accept his offer. But no one could deny the danger in their spot on the side of the narrow road.
Still, she didn’t answer him with words, simply bent down to pick up her soaked bag. Since it had already torn most of the way through, the slightest touch was all it took for the brown paper to split completely. Everything rolled out, with a pack of underwear landing on his foot, followed a moment later by a couple of oranges.
Maybe it was the last straw on a terrible day, because she simply stood there and stared at the mess. Moving quickly, Drake bent down and picked up everything. The TV dinners, tourist shirts and sweats, and especially the underwear, toothbrush, and toothpaste, told him that she hadn’t planned this trip. She’d obviously needed to get the hell away from Miami and had somehow ended up in Montauk.
The only items that didn’t make sense were the colorful spools of thread and the sewing needles. If the magazine article was to be believed, she didn’t have any skills or interests apart from her growing beauty empire. Then again, given the ridiculously embellished stories he’d read about his father and mother over the years, Drake knew better than to believe anything he read.
Hoping she’d follow him now that he had her things, he headed for his car. Fortunately, by the time he opened the passenger door and threw her things in, she was only a step behind him. He held open the door for her until she was safely inside.
It wasn’t until he was behind the steering wheel that he realized just how small a car could be with only two people inside it, especially with the windows steaming up on the inside.
“I’m Drake Sullivan.”
It was a little strange to finally tell her his name when it felt like they’d already been through so much together today. But that wasn’t actually true, was it? She was the one who had been through the wringer. All he’d had to deal with was his painter’s block...and the relentless urge to end it by capturing her face and body on canvas.
“You acted like you didn’t know who I was at the grocery store.”
“I didn’t. I saw your face on a magazine, and that’s when I realized who you are.”
“Please.” She turned to him in supplication. No longer fierce. No longer furious. “Please don’t tell anyone I’m here. I’ll give you whatever you want. As much money as you want, just to keep this quiet.”
“I don’t want your money.” How could she think he would? Then again, she didn’t know him, did she? Didn’t know anything at all about him—even though he’d just seen pictures of her getting in and out of a bathtub. “I’m sorry for what happened to you.”
“You feel sorry for me?”
“Not sorry for you.” He wanted to make sure she understood that. He didn’t pity her. She was clearly too resilient for his—or anyone else’s—pity. “But what happened to you? It was wrong. Really wrong. If something like that happened to my sister—” He gritted his teeth. “I’d want to kill the guy who took those pictures.”
“You’ve—” The word broke, and she slumped back into the seat in a defeated pose. “Of course you’ve seen them. The whole world has seen them by now.”
“If I could take back looking at them, Rosalind, I would.”
“Rosa.” The one word from her lips was so quiet he almost couldn’t hear it. “Rosa is my real name.”
“Rosa.” It fit her so much better than Rosalind. “Rosa,” he said again, just to feel her name on his own lips.
Had anyone ever tugged at him like this? If so, he couldn’t remember. Then again, these were some pretty crazy circumstances, weren’t they?
Of all the cliffs, in all the parks, in all the world, she’d walked onto his.
“I can help. My family—”
“No!” The word family seemed to snap her back to life. Back to fierce. “I don’t want your family involved. I’ll figure things out on my own. All I want right now is somewhere to clean up and rest for a few hours before I make my next move. When I was a kid, there was a motel pretty close to here. It would be great if you could take me there.”
“The Seaside Motel is still there. But there are nicer places in town.”