mind back fifteen years was like crossing an empty desert. Or maybe the desert was where he arrived after the casting back. That place—past—had been devoid of normalcy and any landmarks and checkpoints that most young people could count upon to save themselves from their wilder impulses. Joaquin’s gaze refocused on Essie and her friends, still careening on the sand in some exuberant dance of their own, the only music the muted surf and the raucous calls of the gulls.
A tame expression of youth, compared to how he, Mick, and Felipe had exercised their teenage energy.
“We drove too fast. We indulged too much. Clubs, bars, wrap parties, premiere parties, media events where the booze flowed free and anything else you wanted could be found in the hall, the bathrooms, a limo idling outside.”
“That sounds…excessive.”
There was a word for it. And Joaquin’s and Mick’s attempts to tap the brakes on the excess had been clumsy and most often too late, while Felipe had held zero interest in slowing, let alone in passing over any crazy hair or saying no to any new sensation. Joaquin’s big brother had been too busy mapping that flaming trajectory—even as it burned him out.
He rose from the lounger and paced to one edge of the deck and then the other. At Sara’s side he halted, gazing into her blue eyes. Then he found himself murmuring a truth he’d never admitted, even to himself. “But like you,” he said, “looking back, what I mostly remember is loneliness.” Especially after his brother had found new friends with new drugs.
She blinked. “I… I’m sorry to hear that. And surprised.”
“Yeah, me, too.” He gave her a wry smile. “Who would have thought that the workaholic businessman and the beautiful half-Brit butler would have so much in common?”
Then Sara’s pensive expression pricked him with guilt. And who would have thought he could so easily cast a pall on such a sunny day? Christ, he was a dull dog.
“Hey,” he said, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes widened as he stroked a finger along the warm lobe. “Let’s think happier thoughts.”
Her gaze drifted to his mouth.
His own mood began to lift. “Sara,” he whispered, libido stirring as it did whenever she was close.
“Hmm?” She sounded distracted.
“Say it again. In just that same accent.”
“What?” her eyes lifted to his, amusement beginning to glitter in the blue depths. “Say what?”
He tried to mimic her clipped tone. “I don’t believe I was ever as high-spirited.”
Her rosebud mouth pursed as if she was trying to contain a smile or a laugh. Then her eyes narrowed, and she took on that faint and fascinating air of disapproval that they must drill into the students at the Continental Butler Academy.
“Sir,” she said, in a manner both reproving and pert that made him want to spank her saucy bottom. “Won’t that cause you to do something we’ll both regret?”
Oh yeah. Mmm-hmm.
He leaned toward her, thinking his kiss would be the answer.
Then his shouted name had him jerking back. Essie. Christ, he’d forgotten all about the kids, he realized, glancing toward the beach.
His sister and RJ floated in one of the pedal boats, just offshore. Lulu, he could see, was fifty yards down the sand, chasing birds.
“Get in the other boat!” his little sister called. “Let’s race!”
Refusal was on his tongue, a reflex action of the dull dog that he’d become. But then he thought, What the hell.
“Coming,” he yelled, already toeing off his shoes.
Then he looked at the butler. He’d lost the opportunity to kiss her, but not the chance to rock her I’m cautious-world.
“You, too,” he said.
“Oh, no,” she stepped back, blue eyes saucers.
He snagged her hand, the spark when flesh met flesh more familiar now. “Without a partner, I’ll only go in circles.”
“But—”
Tugging her down the steps to the beach, he cast another look at her over his shoulder. “Remember, you’re at my service.”
Sara didn’t know how Joaquin did it. When she figured it out, however, she was going to put a stop to the undue influence he had over her. In the meantime, she was in a fix.
One moment she’d been attending to her daily duties—dusting, sweeping, making beds, with plans to do some weeding later—and the next she’d found herself hustled inside a plastic vehicle floating on the ocean, pedaling for her life. It was shaped like a slice of bread and kept one’s feet out of the water, but she wasn’t convinced of its stability.
Wary, she peered overboard at