She tapped her foot against the blacktop, the desire to head home warring with the temptation he offered. She might be furious but that didn't mean she wasn't exhausted, too. Besides, she had to admit she was curious about this gorgeous retreat.
"Okay, that's fine," she said, trying to sound grateful when all she really wanted was to strangle him and her uncle for manipulating her this way. "But I want you to arrange a flight out tomorrow."
"We'll see."
As she climbed into his Jeep Wrangler she growled.
CHAPTER FIVE
DAMIAN'S TROPICAL RETREAT literally took Micki's breath away. Tall palm trees and lush plants dotted the landscape made more beautiful by the expanse of blue sky above them. Despite her anger, he kept up a steady flow of one-sided conversation she couldn't help but listen to with rapt interest.
So far she'd learned that there was one small town and five major estates on the entire island, none within walking distance of the others. The wealthy neighbors rarely crossed paths, while in the town-which supplied the necessities for the visiting inhabitants-the neighbors hung out, gossiped and treated each other like family. That, she discovered, was why Damian loved the place.
He could find either privacy or a sense of small-town kinsmanship, whichever he desired at the moment. On first glance at the island, Micki completely understood his reasoning, but she wasn't about to tell him so. Because she wasn't speaking to him unless she absolutely had to.
"My sisters and their families use the house on their vacations," he said as he continued to drive.
"I'm not in the mood for idle chitchat."
"There's not much else to do to pass the time during the ride."
He wanted to talk? She'd talk. "You brought me here against my will. I think that's called kidnapping."
"So sue me." He laughed. "Your uncle wanted you to have some peace until this blew over and there's nowhere more peaceful than Casa de Fuller."
She didn't know who she was more upset with, her family for treating her like a baby or Damian for buying into it. "It was one picture in a New York newspaper. I can handle the fallout."
"I'm sure you can," he said in a soothing voice.
"If you believe that, then why bring me here?"
"Your uncle asked me to. Since the photo showed you out of control, the publicist who can't practice what she preaches, Yank's worried. And since I had a role in last night's mess, he holds me responsible. The least I could do was help fix things."
Damian's gentlemanly side was rearing its head again. "What role are you referring to?" she asked. "That of savior?"
He gripped the wheel more tightly. "Instigator. I got the definite feeling that when you saw me with Carole, it set you off somehow."
"Who's Carole?" she asked, deliberately playing dumb.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a knowing grin. "My date last night."
"Date? Is that what you call her?" Micki asked and immediately could have bitten her tongue in two.
She might not want to reveal her insecurities, but she didn't have to insult another woman just because she was jealous of Damian's interest in someone so feminine.
"It wasn’t you or your date that set me off. Not exactly." As she glanced down at her unpainted fingernails, the words she kept inside of her spilled free. "I've always been the tomboy in the family, I guess because of how close I was to Uncle Yank. When my parents died I trailed after my uncle like he was a god." From the day she'd gone to live with him, Uncle Yank had always been there, the most dominant presence in her life.
Damian nodded in understanding. "He took you and your sisters in. Idolizing him wouldn't be all that unusual."
"It was beyond idolizing. I never felt like myself around my sisters, but it was different with Uncle Yank. He just understood me from the beginning."
"So you were into sports, but somehow I doubt you were an ordinary tomboy" He turned toward her, his gaze meeting hers. "Because there's nothing ordinary about you," he said in a husky voice, taking her off guard.
She swallowed hard, fighting the sexual and emotional effect his words had on her. "I definitely had the most masculine role models you can imagine." Still, she rarely regretted her choices. She not only idolized her uncle, she adored him. 'It's just that there are times I wish I'd chosen Sophie or Annabelle to worship because maybe then I-"
She clamped her mouth shut before she said more, realizing how much insight into her soul she'd nearly given a man who definitely wouldn't plan on returning the favor. He'd told her as much, admitting the women he chose to be with were the ones who knew the score. Women who'd let him easily walk away.
They both knew she didn't fit the mold.