Free Forbidden by Suzanne Brockmann Page A

Hardly able to breathe, Kayla hit him with her pillow. He grabbed her, pinning her back against the bed and…
    She saw it happen. One moment he was smiling at her, his eyes warm with laughter, his leg thrown across hers, his hands holding her hands up above her head. But the very next moment realization had struck. Just like that, the warmth and the laughter were gone, leaving behind only the molten heat of his very real desire. And just as quickly as the desire appeared, it was followed by shame.
    He pulled himself off her quickly, as if he were burned by her touch.
    “Let’s…get dressed and…go into town. Try to find you a radio.” He turned and vanished into the bathroom, leaving her alone.
             
    “What do you think?” Cal asked, pushing the brim of his cowboy hat back on his head.
    Kayla stared at him. “You want me to
ride
that thing?” she asked incredulously, turning to gaze at the rickety-looking old motorcycle. “Don’t they have anything real? Maybe something with
four
wheels instead of one and a half…?”
    “Aw, Kayla, you’re disappointing me,” Cal drawled, the edge of his mouth curling up into what for anyone else would have been no change of expression, but for him was a major smile. “I thought a city girl like you would be into riding a bike.”
    Claiming to be hot and sticky from their flight, Kayla had showered and changed while he’d gone in search of transportation. She stood before him now, dressed in an extremely short black skirt and a snugly fitting white T-shirt. She wore her same funky black boots on her feet and a pair of equally funky oval-shaped purple sunglasses on her nose. Her hair was still slightly damp from her shower.
    “So where’re the helmets?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
    “It didn’t come with any helmets.”
    She looked at him over the top of her sunglasses. “Excuse me? You let some con artist rent you a…a…death trap of a motorcycle without getting any helmets?”
    Cal had to smile. He didn’t know what it was about this girl, but when he was with her, he usually ended up smiling. Or madder than hell.
    “Okay,” he said. “Our first stop will be back at the rental shop to pick up a helmet.”
    “Yours will have to be a very interesting shape if you intend to wear that cowboy hat underneath it.”
    “I don’t need a helmet.”
    “Yes, you do.”
    “This bike probably doesn’t go fast enough to—”
    Kayla stepped closer to him, lowering her voice and talking fast. “I didn’t haul your ass all the way down here from Montana just to watch you die of a head injury sustained in a fall from some poor excuse for a motorcycle!”
    “You didn’t haul my ass anywhere, darlin’,” he countered, giving her a look designed to wither very large, very tough cowboys. “I’m an experienced rider. There’re no helmet laws down here, so whether or not I wear one is my choice.
My
choice.”
    Kayla didn’t wither. She just looked at him. “Please,” she finally said. “I forgot to say please. Will you
please
wear a helmet? For Liam’s sake, if not mine. If he’s here, if he’s still alive, I’m going to need you in one piece to help me get him off this island.”
    The kid. She
had
to bring up the kid.
    “Please?” she said again, reaching out to touch his arm.
    Her touch burned him, as it always did, and he shook her off, swearing softly.
    “Was that a yes dammit or a no dammit?”
    “Yes, dammit.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Can we go now?”
    Kayla took a deep breath, drawing his attention to her clinging T-shirt and the curves underneath it. “All right,” she said, approaching the motorcycle. “Time for a motorcycle riding lesson.” She turned back to look at him. “Where’s
your
bike?”
    Cal snorted. “Very funny. Hang on a sec—let me give my hat to one of the bellboys, to leave at the front desk.” He took the marble stairs to the front doors of the elegant hotel three at a time and handed