Island Affair (Keys to Love #1)(39)

“Nothing. Like I told the others. I’m fine. I can handle it on my own.” Sorrow traced across her beautiful face, etching strained grooves between her brows, telegraphing that she was the opposite of “fine.”

“Hey.” Driven by the compulsion to soothe her, Luis stepped closer, stopping just inside her personal space. “We may be lying to everyone else right now, but things will tank if we start lying to each other. C’mon, talk to me.”

Unable to resist the temptation to touch her, he gently tucked her hair behind her ear. Allowed his fingers the treat of softly trailing along her jawline. Her eyes drifted closed, her lips trembling with vulnerability. A strange flutter tickled his gut, shimmering lower in his body.

Had they been somewhere more private, he would have bent to kiss her, offer her comfort in his arms. To hell with pretending he was fine keeping things between them platonic.

Just as he’d convinced himself to go for it anyway, her eyes opened, mesmerizing him with the mix of determination and pain filling her blue-green gaze.

“If I share a secret, then you have to do the same,” she challenged.

“I don’t have any.” Mierda.

“Bullshit.”

Luis kept his surprise in check when she repeated the curse that had immediately sprung through his head after his bald lie at her challenge.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire,” she chanted softly.

Elbows bent, she set her forearms on his chest and leaned into him. Her right hand patted the KWFD emblem on his T-shirt above his left pec. “Everyone has secrets. Things from the past that shape our present. Even our future, if we let them fester.”

Co?o, an alarm clanged in his ears as he sensed her edging closer to a question he should have known was coming after their run-in with his brother before sunset.

“What’s going on between you and Enrique?” Sara asked.

Instantly, the same wall he put up between himself and those who dared to raise the subject of the bad blood with his brother loomed between him and Sara. He stepped back, distancing himself out of habit. Her arms slid from his chest to fall at her sides.

At least he had the presence of mind not to tell her to piss off, his usual response with everyone except his mother—he knew better than to disrespect the matriarch of their familia. Instead, Luis dodged and deflected. Two tactics in which he excelled out of practice. And necessity. That’s what happened when you were part of a nosy, busybody familia with the best of intentions. Most of them anyway.

“This is about you, not me,” he told Sara, jamming his hands in his back pockets.

She crossed her arms, inadvertently pushing her cleavage higher up the edge of her strapless dress. Luis ignored the urge to dip his gaze to appreciate the enticing view. Instead he kept his gaze locked with hers. Refusing to give in on this important issue.

“About you wanting to get closer with your family this week. Let’s keep mine out of it like we agreed and focus on whatever yours was tossing around like a hot potato out there. I can’t avert disaster if I’m not sure what’s coming at me. You’re setting us up for failure.”

Sara opened her mouth but snapped it closed without uttering a word. Based on the scowl twisting her lips, he probably wouldn’t have liked what she was thinking anyway. She eyed him for several tense seconds. Her pupils tiny black islands in the middle of turbulent seas.

The door down by the cigar shop leading to the patio bar and salsa band must have pushed open, because the strains of a classic tune known to bring his mami and papi out onto the dance floor, or the middle of their living room, whispered on the air.

Luis waited. Determined, implacable. Sara narrowed her eyes. But this was a game of chicken he refused to lose. Not if it compromised his ability to help her.

Several tense beats later, Sara spun away, frustration evident in her out-flung arms and low groan. “Okaaaay. Here’s all you need to know.”

After a step, she swiveled to face him, resignation dripping from her words. “I had . . . will probably always have to deal with . . . a health . . . situation. But I’ve got it under control now. They’re all hypersensitive in one way or another. Well, Robin’s more protective of our mother and how stressing about me affects Mom’s health. But like I said already, I am fine. They don’t have anything to worry about. And you, for this one week, certainly don’t either. Okay? Are we good?”

Uh, no. Not by a freaking long shot.

His paramedic training instantly kicked in. Typical health assessment questions flipped through his head like the cards in that old Rolodex his papi used to keep on his desk at the fire station.

What kind of “health situation” did she mean?

Was she on some type of medication he should be aware of in case of an emergency?

Could being on vacation, off her regular routine and diet, adversely affect whatever vague situation she was dealing with?

What should he be doing to better protect this driven, intelligent, temptingly gorgeous woman he was coming to care about more that was probably wise? The one who’d so easily convinced him to step outside his comfort zone?

Way outside.

Luis pulled his thoughts up short. That last question was more personal than he tended to get on the job. But he wasn’t on the job here. And this was not a typical situation. There was absolutely nothing typical about Sara.

Which gave him all the more reason for wanting solid answers. Now.