A corner of her mouth turned up despite the seriousness of the discussion. “Apparently, he never recovered. He died, and everyone hunted for his wife.”
He didn’t need to ask why she didn’t just explain she had acted in self-defense. If her own family didn’t see his actions as rape, they’d see no need for her to defend herself.
“Luckily, Brodie found me. I was in terrible shape and getting weaker. He said he knew a doctor I could trust who would help me. He promised to keep me safe “
“The doctor?”
“Dr. Crawford.” She smiled. “She wasn’t Doc then. She was just an outsider, living in Keso’s cottage with their baby. But Brodie was right. I could trust her. She helped the best she could and put me back together.” She smiled and pointed to her sunken eye. “Almost good as new.”
“I’d say you’re pretty damn perfect,” he told her. “Scars. Imperfections. Sometimes they serve as physical proof of the strength and beauty within us.” Just as Cameron’s scars did.
Esme’s eyes narrowed. Her assessing gaze seemed to reach to his very soul. “Doc has her own scars,” she informed him. “They run deep, inside and out. If your heart doesn’t explode when you look at her, leave her alone. You seem like a nice guy. You both deserve explosions.”
Ian nodded. Esme didn’t have to worry about explosions. Cameron had decimated his heart long ago.
* * *
Cameron finished the last of her notes and closed the notebook she’d used. Arabella sat in the grass by the picnic table, scratching Creek’s head. The dog basked in the attention of his favorite human. His tongue lolled to the side of his mouth, drool dripping onto Ara’s knee. Neither girl nor dog seemed to mind the mess. A smile lifted the corners of Cameron’s mouth as she watched the pair. Though Ara’s stitches and ribs would take time to heal, eventually she’d be back to her old self.
A sound from the path across the grounds made Cameron tense. Instinctively, she shifted to shield her daughter. Though she hoped the bodies on the beach would satisfy Victor Roberts, she couldn’t count on him staying away from the clinic.
“Keke,” Ara squealed.
Creek jumped to his feet as his girl tried to rise.
“Whoa, whoa.” Keso jogged over before Ara could move more. “Who let you out of bed?” Although the words sounded accusatory, a smile softened his tone.
She beamed at her father. “Dr. Ian said fresh air is good for me.”
Keso grinned back at her. The sight of their matching smiles caused Cameron’s chest to tighten.
Ara raised her arms, wincing slightly.
“Watch those stitches, Little Bit.” Keso lifted the girl into his arms, then snuggled her to his chest.
Finally, he turned to Cameron. They hadn’t spoken alone since she’d confronted him about the plane explosion. They’d spoken cordially when passing at the clinic, but their usually easy conversation was strained. She could understand his anger. If he had nothing to do with the explosion, her accusation likely hurt. But his words and his implication that she’d somehow been glad she’d been unable to save Keira had hurt as well.
Keso narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”
She blinked away her thoughts. “Nothing. Why?”
He sat their daughter atop the picnic table, then slid onto the bench across from her. “You look worried. Your face is doing that thing it does.” He contorted his own sun-kissed face, trying to match what he always claimed was her worried expression.
She laughed. The action felt good. She hadn’t laughed much over the past few days. Certainly not today. Between the goon’s visit and Ian’s kiss, laughing was the last thing she felt like doing.
Keso’s own face grew serious. His wide grin melted away. “There it is again. What’s wrong?”
Glancing around to make sure no one could hear them, she leaned forward. “Victor Roberts came here this morning.”
Keso’s finger’s flinched, tightening where they rested on Ara’s legs to make sure she didn’t fall. “Why? What did he want?”
Again, she scanned their surroundings. “We have Americans here. Tourists. He wanted to see if any of them were his friends from the plane.”
He leaned forward, trying to block little ears from the conversation. “You said they all…”
“They did,” she assured him. “Have you seen the wreckage? There’s no way anyone made it.”
“He doesn’t strike me as someone who would be overly concerned with his friends’ well-being.” Keso sat back, then tugged Ara’s hair, pulling a giggle from her. He smiled at the girl, but when he turned back to Cameron, his face was serious. “He’s making sure there’s no one left.”
Cam nodded. She’d thought the same thing. “Have you heard anything about who was on board or who caused the accident?” Though everyone knew the explosion had been no accident.
Keso tensed. “I told you I didn’t—”
“That’s not what I’m asking. Have you heard anything? He was here, Keso, on our island. Our safe place. Here.” She tapped the table they sat at.
Keso’s eyes widened, and his gaze darted to their daughter. “Did he see her?”
She nodded. “For a moment. Ian was bringing her to see Creek. I rushed them out, but he noticed.”
He cursed under his breath.
“Keke,” Ara admonished, ruffling his hair.
He flashed her a dimple free smile and tugged her braid. “Sorry, Little Bit.” He turned his attention back to Cameron. “Did he say anything?”
“He just asked if she was my daughter.”
This time, Keso cut off his curse. “This is what I’ve been afraid of. We’ve been stupid to think we’re safe anywhere as long as that man lives.”
“Keke,” the girl’s little voice trembled. “What’s wrong? “
When her father turned back to her, she placed her small hands on his cheeks. “Why are you mad?”
Keso’s face softened. Love poured from his eyes. “I’m not mad. Not at you,” he assured her. “I just worry.” He tucked a loose strand of hair, the same shade as his, behind her ear. “I want my girls safe. I don’t like when you get hurt.” He brushed his hand against her side, as if to remind her he had reason to worry.
“Mommy saved me.” Their daughter leaned over and kissed his forehead.
Keso closed his eyes, savoring the gesture. Cameron’s heart warmed at the obvious affection between girl and man.
“Yes, she did.” He returned her kiss with one to her cheek. “But I don’t want to risk something else happening.” He directed these last words at Cameron.
Her body tensed. Nerves danced in her belly. “Keso,” she warned.
“What did he say to you? Was he interested?”
Her mouth dropped open. “What? Why would you ask that?” He couldn’t possibly think she’d even entertain the idea of letting that son of a bitch touch her.
Instead of answering, he continued to glare at her.
“Yes,” she conceded. “He liked that I was American and Southern.”
Anger flared to life in Keso’s eyes. On most men, the gesture may be considered jealousy, but that wasn’t how Keso operated.
“He’ll be back,” he told her. “I knew if he ever saw you…”