Chapter 1

“You’re the only one I trust to get her out of that godforsaken country, O’Roarke. Dammit, I’d go there myself if I could.”

Caine O’Roarke watched as James Hollister pushed himself away from the desk and stood slowly and painfully, turning to look out the window.

“She’s all I have left,” the older man muttered. “I don’t want to lose her in some senseless revolution.”

“You should have thought of that before you let her go down there in the first place.” Caine leaned back in his chair and tested his boots on the polished walnut surface of Hollister’s desk.

James turned around and scowled at him. “You should know as well as anyone that you don’t ‘let’ Lexie do anything. She’s done what she damn well pleased since she was fifteen years old.”

Caine raised his eyebrows. “And whose fault is that? You’re going to have to learn to control your daughter, James.”

Instead of blowing up at him, the older man smiled wearily. “Wait until you have a daughter, O’Roarke. Then you can lecture me on child rearing. Until then, keep your opinions to yourself.”

Caine shifted in his chair, restless and edgy. “Those weren’t opinions—just pointing out the facts.” Sliding down farther into the soft leather, he continued, “You still haven’t told me why I should risk my butt yanking your daughter out of San Rafael.”

James eased himself down into his chair again and fixed Caine with a piercing look. “Before you left on that assignment eleven months ago, you were dating her. I would think that would be reason enough.”

Caine sat up slowly, his heart suddenly pounding. His feet hit the expensive Oriental carpet with a muffled thud. “Did Lexie tell you that things were serious between us?”

“Of course not.” James sighed. “Lexie’s never been serious about anything in her life. I just thought you might have a vested interest in getting her safely back to Washington.”

“Why? We never had any future. Lexie and I came from two different worlds. We had about as much in common as a poodle and a pit bull.” Caine heard the hint of pain and longing in his voice and struggled to control it. It had taken a long time, but he’d thought he’d finally managed to banish his useless fantasies about Lexie Hollister. He didn’t want to examine his reaction to her father’s request.

James ignored his outburst. “You’ve been a lone wolf for too long, Caine. You and Lexie could be good for each other,” he said quietly. “I thought so a year ago, and I still do.”

“You’re dreaming, old man.” Caine’s voice was brutal. “The only thing Lexie and I were good at was fighting.” There was one other thing, he acknowledged silently, struggling to control his body’s response to the sudden memories. It just wasn’t the kind of thing you mentioned to a woman’s father.

“Maybe she’s grown up down there in San Rafael.” Her father sounded wistful.

“Yeah, and maybe cows will start climbing trees, too.” Caine propped his feet on the desk again, ignoring James’s withering look. “She’s probably down there visiting all the nightclubs in Limores and hanging out with the rich planters’ kids.”

“What did she do to you, Caine?” Hollister’s voice was quiet.

“Not a thing. We only ‘dated’ for a month, remember?”

No, Lexie hadn’t done anything to him. And that was the problem. In one short month he’d come to hate her world—the world of parties every night and shopping and lunches every day. He’d raged at her for her useless life, and she’d coolly told him that no one was forcing him to participate.

But he couldn’t stay away from her. In spite of his determination not to get involved with anyone, in spite of the way he felt about her friends and her life-style, he’d become damn near obsessive about Lexie Hollister. Underneath the social butterfly he’d sensed an intelligent, caring woman, and it had infuriated him that she wouldn’t grow up. He’d told James the truth. In the short month that he’d known her, they’d spent most of the time fighting.

Except for the two times they’d made love. There had been no hostility between them then. Even now, almost a year later, the memories of those two nights could get him harder faster than any other woman in the flesh.

“Maybe it was a mistake, encouraging you to take Lexie out.” James Hollister suddenly looked old and defeated.

Caine shook his head and stood. “No, James, it wasn’t a mistake. Lexie taught me a lot. She taught me how the other half lives, and made me damn glad I’m not one of them. I’ll always be grateful to her for that.”

As he started for the door, the other man spoke behind him. He sounded utterly weary. “I shouldn’t have asked, Caine. I’m sorry.”

Caine slowly turned around, knowing he couldn’t refuse his mentor’s request. “I’ll go get her for you, old man. I owe you.” He smiled without humor. “If I recall, that’s how I got involved with her last time. It’s a good thing I’m getting out of this business. I can’t afford to owe you anything else.”

***

Lexie Hollister tucked a strand of damp, limp hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. Squatting down onto the dirt floor, she took one of the boy’s trembling hands into her own and spoke soothingly to him.

“Now, Luis, I know you’re scared. Seeing a big needle like that is frightening. Why, it’s almost as big as one of the mosquitoes that come out at night, isn’t it?”

Luis gave her a watery chuckle, and she felt him relax a bit. At five years of age, he was old enough to realize that getting a vaccination was going to hurt. And he was stubborn enough to refuse to lift his shirtsleeve, in spite of the pleas and threats from his mother. The other woman rolled her eyes when Lexie glanced up at her.

It was time to try another tack.

“Maybe you think that a man such as yourself should receive his vaccination by himself. Should I ask your mother to leave?”

Lexie could see the boy was torn. The idea that he was a man was enormously appealing, but he was still afraid of that needle. She would have to help him make up his mind.

“Consuela, why don’t you wait outside while I give Luis his shot? A man likes to be alone at times like these.” Lexie could see that the boy’s mother was going to protest, so she hurried her out the door. Turning to Luis, she rolled up his sleeve and swabbed his arm with alcohol.

“It will only hurt for a moment, Luis,” she said gently. “Then you can go and tell the other boys how brave you were.” While the child was contemplating his coming glory, she quickly and efficiently injected the vaccine. By the time he yelped, it was all over.

Lexie leaned back against the wooden table and watched as the dark-haired boy and his mother walked away from her tiny house. One more child vaccinated, she thought wearily, and only about a million more to go. But as long as the government of San Rafael was able to get vaccine to her, the children of the village of Santa Ysabel would be protected.

Glancing at her watch, she calculated that she would have time to see at least one more patient, maybe two, before she had to take a break. Picking up the cup of lukewarm coffee that stood on a small table, she drank it down and willed the caffeine to kick in. Weariness had been her constant companion lately, and she got through most days with a combination of coffee and stubbornness.

Stepping to the door, she opened it and called out, “Whoever’s next can come on in.” Without waiting to see who followed her back into the house, she walked over to her most important possession—the small refrigerator—and squatted down to remove another dose of the precious vaccine.

“Your Spanish has improved since the last time I saw you, Lexie.”

The tiny vial of vaccine fell from her hand and rolled across the dirt floor, disappearing under the refrigerator. Shock held her frozen in place. It couldn’t be.

Gripping the edge of the refrigerator door with one hand, she slowly got up and turned around. It was.

Caine O’Roarke stood in her house, not more than three feet away from her. If possible, his face looked even harder than it had eleven months ago. It could have been carved from granite, and his blue eyes were devoid of expression as he stared down at her.

“Caine. What are you doing here?” Her tongue felt thick and clumsy as she stumbled over the words.

“I’m staying at the resort right up the road,” he retorted. “Hell, Lexie, what do you think I’m doing here? Your father sent me to bring you home.”

“So you’re still doing what my father tells you to do, Caine?” Just saying the words made her tremble inside. She told herself it was rage and not pain that caused it.

“This time he’s right.” He ignored the reference to their past history. “The political situation in San Rafael is critically unstable, and he doesn’t want you caught in the middle of it. Whoever’s in charge of these rebels seems to be virulently anti-American. It’s not a good time for you to be hanging around in a South American village at the back of nowhere. Especially with a name like Hollister. Your father is well-known in this country.”

“My father is several thousand miles away. He has nothing to do with this. And I’m not simply ‘hanging around,’ as you so quaintly put it,” she said coldly. She fed the anger, hoping to keep other, more dangerous emotions at bay. “I have a job to do here. So while I appreciate your concern, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your generous offer.”

“What’s your job that’s so important, Lexie?” he asked scornfully. “Organizing the weekly luncheon for the ladies of Santa Ysabel?”

In spite of the fact that it had been almost a year since she’d last seen him, his barbed comments about her life-style still hurt. Even though they were no longer valid. Turning away from him, she searched under the refrigerator until her hand closed around the smooth glass vial she’d dropped. She carefully placed it back in the refrigerator.

“I’m the only nurse in this village,” she said quietly. “If I leave, there won’t be any medical care for the people here. And if a civil war is coming, it’s even more important that I stay.”

He didn’t answer, and she turned around slowly to find him watching her with stunned astonishment. Finally his eyes narrowed. “Since when are you a nurse, Lexie?”

“Since I graduated from nursing school five years ago.” Congratulating herself on her even voice, she began methodically straightening the contents of the tiny table that sat next to the refrigerator.

“I never heard anything about your being a nurse.”

His voice was tinged with disbelief, and Lexie let her anger bubble to the surface, willing it to bury the pain of his scornful words. Spinning around to face him, she said, “There were a lot of things you never heard about, Caine. You didn’t stick around long enough to ask. But then I guess when James Hollister says ‘Jump,’ you only ask how high.”

A tiny voice told her to stop. But she couldn’t. “Since we’re on the subject, there’s something I’ve always wondered about. Did you sleep with me on my father’s orders, too? Was that another way he thought he could control me?”

She’d finally managed to remove that remote, unreadable expression from his face. Something blazed to life in his eyes for a moment, quickly replaced by a look that was half fury, half pain. “Nobody tells me to do anything, Lexie,” he said softly. “I thought you’d figured that out by now.”

“I never figured out anything about you, Caine,” she whispered. “Nothing at all.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to learn on our way out of here,” he said, ignoring her words and looking around. “Take as much as you can carry on your back, and we’ll leave in the morning.”

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t be a fool. If half of the stories I’ve heard about this guy are true, you don’t want to be within five hundred miles of this country. What is it that they call him?”

“El Cuchillo,” she answered reluctantly.

“And they don’t call him The Knife for nothing, I’m damn sure of that. So what’s the problem, Lexie?” he asked, his voice impatient. “Believe me, it’ll be easier to get out of here now, with me, than in a couple of months when all hell’s broken loose.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Caine, not with you or anyone else. Haven’t you heard me? This is where I belong. I’ve made a life for myself here, and I’m happy. I don’t need rescuing.”

“You need your head examined, that’s what you need.”

His deep voice began to rise, the sound echoing off the mud-brick walls. Lexie looked anxiously toward the next room, her ears straining to hear and her palms beginning to sweat. She had to get him out of here.

“Look, I have patients waiting to see me,” she said, speaking too quickly. “Could we continue this conversation later?”

“I don’t care when we discuss it as long as you’re ready to go tomorrow morning.” He looked around the small room one more time, then back at her. His gaze was hard and determined. “I’m staying in the inn at the other end of the village. I’ll be back at daybreak.”

He turned and walked out her door, and she watched him through the window as he strode down the narrow street. His dark blond hair was too long, as it had been a year earlier, and he’d tied it back with a rolled-up bandanna. His smooth, fluid walk hadn’t changed, either, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. Sensual memories stirred as she watched the way his faded jeans hugged his taut rear end.

This is the man who walked away from you eleven months ago, she reminded herself as she moved back from the window. A fragment of remembered pain stirred in her heart, but she pushed it ruthlessly away. She couldn’t afford to wallow in self-pity. She had to figure out what to do. If she knew Caine O’Roarke, and she was afraid she did, he wasn’t going to disappear just because she’d told him no.

Caine had always moved through life as if he owned the world, and it didn’t look as if that had changed, either. He was still the same arrogant, autocratic man he’d been a year ago, making demands instead of requests. He’d wanted her to change her life back then, too.

This time she wouldn’t come close to succumbing to him, she vowed. She was stronger now. She had grown up down here in San Rafael, and Caine O’Roarke had no power over her anymore. Sooner or later he would have to realize that she couldn’t be persuaded to leave. Then he would go away and leave her alone.

Her gaze strayed back to the window, but he had disappeared. It was just as well, she told herself. She had things to do, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted by him. Moving to the door of her tiny house, she looked at the silent women and children who waited outside.

“Whoever’s next can come on in,” she said, suddenly feeling bone tired. As she turned and walked back to the refrigerator for a dose of vaccine, she ruthlessly tamped down the emotions that Caine had freed from their burial place deep inside her. There was no place in her heart or her life for him. Any possibility of that had ended eleven months ago. His unexpected appearance in her life was simply a brief diversion from her usual routine.

Turning around, she forced a smile onto her face and crouched down next to the frightened little girl. “I know you’re scared, Pilar. But it will only hurt for a minute.”

***

 Caine lounged against a tree across the street from Lexie’s house and watched a steady stream of women and children go into the small building and emerge a few minutes later. The children were invariably crying when they came out, their mothers trying to comfort them. What was Lexie doing in there?

Finally he saw the last family leave. Pushing away from the tree trunk, he strolled over to the hut, identical to the others in the village. Before he knocked on the door he looked at the tiny building Lexie now called home.

It was a far cry from the house where she’d grown up and lived until eleven months ago. That stately Colonial stood on several acres in one of Washington, D.C.’s, most exclusive suburbs. Furnished with antiques and priceless heirlooms, it reeked of old money, privilege and influence. It was a setting that had seemed to fit her perfectly.

The last place he’d expected to find Lexie Hollister, spoiled debutante and member of the idle rich, was a mud-brick hovel in a tiny South American village. The only thing more surprising was finding her giving medical care to the people who lived in that village.

Lexie was a nurse. He still couldn’t believe that. But then, nothing about what he’d seen today jibed with the woman he’d known.

Then which was the real Lexie? The question prodded at him, made him slightly uneasy, until he dismissed it. She was playing at nurse this week, the way she’d played at everything else in her life. No doubt she would have come to her senses by now. In fact, she was probably all packed up and eager to leave. Raising his hand, he knocked on her door.

“Come on in.”

He heard the weary resignation in her voice as he pushed open the door. She sat on a rickety chair next to a tiny table, a half-eaten tortilla on a crude plate in front of her. The first expression that crossed her face when she saw him was surprise. Then she looked down at her plate to hide her face, but not before he’d seen the unwilling softening in her eyes.

“What are you doing here, Caine?” She didn’t look up at him as she spoke.

“You told me we could talk after all your patients left. I didn’t see anyone waiting for you.”

Pushing the plate away, she finally looked up at him. “I’m busy, Caine.” Her gaze darted toward the next room, and when she looked back at him he saw desperation in her eyes. “Why don’t you come back tonight, after dinner? Anything we need to talk about can wait until then.”

Leaning back against the hip-high refrigerator, he crossed his ankles and folded his arms across his chest. He’d never seen Lexie rattled like this, ever. Except for two times, he reminded himself, and she’d done her best to hide it then. His body tightened in response to the memories, and he struggled to suppress them. Now was not the time to be thinking of how Lexie tasted and felt.

“What is it that you wanted to talk about, anyway?” he drawled. “Did you have questions about what to bring with you?”

She pushed away from the table so fast that the chair almost tipped over. “I told you, I’m not going with you. You’re not going to change my mind, and you’re not going to browbeat me into agreeing with you, either.”

“I don’t recall ever browbeating you into anything.” He raised his eyebrows. “I thought everything that happened between us was by mutual agreement. Or am I forgetting something?”

She looked away, but not before he’d seen the sudden flare of sensual awareness in her eyes. “You were always good at convincing people to do what you wanted them to do, Caine,” she muttered. “That’s why you got along so well with my father. He appreciated someone with the same qualities he had.”

He straightened, startled by her perception. To the rest of the world, his relationship with James Hollister was one of opposites attracting. Few people had seen below the surface of either of them to find the essential similarities.

“Lexie, your father doesn’t have anything to do with this. It’s a matter of common sense. The government is warning all Americans to get out of San Rafael while they have a chance.” He struggled to keep his voice calm and unemotional, when what he wanted to do was shake her until she saw sense.

Walking over to the small stove, she scraped the remainder of her lunch into a small bowl and carefully covered it, then waited for him to move so she could slide it into the refrigerator. Straightening, she looked up at him and instinctively moved back a step.

It was a good thing, he told himself grimly. Her formerly long, streaked blond hair had been inexpertly cut short and now curled around her face. The strands of lighter blond hair that he was sure used to come out of a bottle were now completely natural, put there by the sun. No makeup enhanced her bright blue eyes or her flawless skin, and there were lines around her eyes that he’d never seen before. Instead of designer clothes she wore baggy shorts and an equally baggy blouse. Both were scrupulously clean, but far from new.

In short, she was the complete antithesis of the fashionable, perfectly made-up and coifed woman he’d known a year ago. And he found that he suddenly ached to kiss her. It had been eleven long months since he’d seen her, and the woman he’d known had disappeared almost completely. In her place was a woman he hardly recognized, but desire for the new Lexie hit him like a fist in the gut.

He saw an answering awareness in her eyes before she took another step backward and turned away. She fiddled with something on the table, carefully keeping her back turned to him. “I’ll be fine, Caine,” she said. “You can go home and tell my father that you did your best but I was as stubborn as ever. I’ve grown up, and I’m taking responsibility for myself.”

The flash of approval surprised him. He’d felt a lot of emotions for Lexie Hollister, but admiration of her character had never been one of them. “Your father would be proud of you, Lexie.” His voice was low. “But I don’t think you completely understand the situation here in San Rafael. Nobody knows much about this El Cuchillo, but what we’ve heard isn’t good. The guy is brutal, and he doesn’t like Americans. If he gets control of this part of the country, you’ll be in danger.”

She turned around, and he saw that she’d managed to shutter her face. That surprised him, too. In the past, Lexie had been an open book. “I’ll be safe here, Caine. The people in Santa Ysabel are my friends. They’ll take care of me.”

“You don’t owe these people anything, Lexie.” He tried to keep his voice level. “I’m sure they appreciate all you’ve done for them, but they would be the first to tell you to go. If they’re your friends, they wouldn’t want you to stay and put yourself in danger.”

“First of all, Caine, you’re wrong. I owe these people everything. They saved my life,” she said quietly. “And you’re right, they would tell me to go. But I can’t. This is where I belong.”

Her casual words about people saving her life evoked a shiver of panic that was disturbing. He heard himself asking, “What in God’s name happened? How did they save your life?”

“They took me in,” she said simply. “They had no reason to help me, and precious little to spare, but they gave it anyway. They showed me what ‘Love thy neighbor’ really means.”

The relief he felt was equally disturbing. “Then you weren’t actually in any danger.”

She smiled, and he felt as if he’d been struck. It was a smile of such genuine sweetness and caring that he wanted to grab on to it and let it fill the dark corners of his life.

But it wasn’t for him, he realized, as she looked out the window. It was as if someone had yanked a rug out from under him. “It depends on your definition of danger,” she said. “No, I wasn’t in any physical jeopardy. But they made me realize what a worthless waste my life had been up to that point. I had training in a profession that would have allowed me to do a lot of good, but I’d never used it. All I’d done was spend money and fill empty hours.”

It was what he’d told her, more than once, in their past life. He should have been glad, should have rejoiced that she’d finally grown up. Instead, it made him uneasy. The new Lexie had backbone that he’d never even suspected. The steady resolve in her eyes told him that she’d refined her stubbornness, redirected it toward what she thought was the right thing to do. This Lexie had decided she needed to stay in this village, and it was going to be damn hard to convince her otherwise.

“If you won’t think of yourself, what about your father?” Maybe he could appeal to her newfound sense of responsibility. “He’s worried about you, Lexie. He wants to make sure you’re all right.”

“Now you can tell him, can’t you?” Her gaze was cool as she looked at him. As he stared at her, wondering what would convince her to go, he saw her eyes flicker toward the other room again. Before he could ask her why, she looked back at him. “And that brings up another question. How did you find me?”

Shrugging, he said, “I have some connections down here in San Rafael. I asked a few questions and found out where you were.”

Now her attention was fully on him. She seemed to have forgotten whatever had distracted her in that other room. “Who could know who I am, much less where I am? Nobody knows I’m here.”

He nodded toward the refrigerator. “I saw what looked like medicine in there. Where are you getting that?”

“From the government,” she said slowly. “But they think they’re sending it to the doctor who used to live here.”

“Maybe he told them otherwise.”

“I don’t think so. He died two years ago.”

“So maybe they know about that.” He shrugged again. “Does it really matter? Your father has connections in this country and someone in the government of San Rafael knows you’re here in this village. That’s how I found out.”

“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” she said slowly. “As long as I get the vaccines and medicine I need, I don’t care. I just can’t figure out how they know.”

“This is a small place, even compared to Washington, D.C. Word gets around.”

“I suppose,” she replied, doubt in her voice. “I guess the isolation is just an illusion, even here.”

She actually sounded regretful. He watched her, puzzled by the complete change in her personality. Something had happened to her down here in San Rafael; something a lot more profound than what she’d told him. A bunch of villagers making her welcome couldn’t be the life-altering experience she’d led him to believe.

“This makes it even more imperative that you leave with me, Lexie. If I found out about you so easily, anyone else could, too.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me, Caine.” Her face softened again as she looked at him. “But I appreciate the trouble you’ve gone to in order to find me. Even if it was only because my father asked you to do it.”

“It wasn’t just for your father.” He took a step closer, and she didn’t move. “He’s the one who told me that you were here, and he did ask me to come and find you. But I think I would have done it anyway.”

He didn’t know why the sadness appeared in her eyes. “Would you? I’m not so sure. But thank you for saying so.”

He opened his mouth to answer her, when she jerked her head sideways. A small sound came from the other room, but he couldn’t place it.

“You need to go now,” she said, her voice trembling. She stepped closer to him, as if to herd him out the door. “I have something to do.”

“I’m not leaving until we get this settled. I won’t leave Santa Ysabel without you. I couldn’t have that on my conscience.”

“You left once before and didn’t seem to have any trouble with your conscience that time.” Her eyes flashed at him.

“That was different, and you knew it. I had a job to do. I couldn’t stay.”

“You didn’t have to leave the way you did.” She clamped her mouth shut, but not before he’d seen her lips trembling.

“Lexie, I’ve regretted that more times than I can tell you.”

Another sound came from the other room, louder this time, and she looked over again. When she turned to him, he thought he saw fear in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter now,” she said, her words quiet and rushed. “That happened a long time ago. In another lifetime, in fact. Please, just leave, Caine. Come back later if you have to, but go now.”

He stood watching her, wondering why she was so frantic for him to leave. Before he could ask her, another sound came from the other room. This time it was louder, and he finally figured out what it was. It was the sound of a baby crying.

When she saw that he wasn’t going to budge, weary resignation filled her eyes. “Excuse me. She needs to be fed.”

He watched her walk away, wondering why she’d been so worried that he would find out she had a patient in the other room. Maybe she remembered his complete indifference to kids, his impatience with anything connected with them.

The sound of her crooning voice drifted past the curtain hanging in the doorway, the words murmured so softly that he couldn’t distinguish them. But he couldn’t mistake the tenderness and love in her voice. For just a moment he felt a fierce jealousy of the child in the other room. He couldn’t remember anyone ever feeling that tenderness toward him.

The baby abruptly stopped crying, and he heard the faint rustling of cloth from the other room. A chair creaked, and he assumed she was feeding her patient.

He turned and headed toward the door. The love he’d felt coming from her when she was talking to the baby made him uncomfortable, and suddenly he didn’t want to stay here any longer. He would leave her with her patient and come back later.

He was almost out the door when he realized he hadn’t told her what to bring when they left in the morning. Walking back into the house, he brushed the curtain aside and stepped into the dimly lit room. She sat facing the window, and all he could see was the nape of her neck over the top of the chair as she bent over the child in her arms.

The sight of her holding a child evoked a feeling close to panic in his chest, and he struggled to ignore the sensation. What Lexie did with her patients was no concern of his, after all. He walked around the chair, determined to tell her what she needed, then leave. As he looked down at Lexie, holding the baby close, he began to speak and then stopped, shocked.

He’d been expecting to see her holding a bottle. Instead, the soft skin in the shadowed curve of her breast seemed to glow in the dim room, and the child’s tiny rosebud mouth suckled at her nipple.

.