But he wouldn’t know, she told herself. She wouldn’t weaken again. For the summer, she’d make the treasure her goal and her one ambition. She wouldn’t leave the island empty-handed this time.

He was already on board the Vortex. Kate could see him stowing gear, his hair tousled by the breeze that flowed in from the sea. With only cut-offs and a sleeveless T-shirt between him and the sun she could see the muscles coil and relax, the skin gleam.

Magnificent. She felt the dull ache deep in her stomach and tried to rationalize it away. After all, a well-honed masculine build should make a woman respond. It was natural. One could even call it impersonal, Kate decided. As she started down the dock she wished she could believe it.

He didn’t see her. A fishing boat already well out on the water had caught his attention. For a moment, she stopped, just watching him. Why was it she could always sense the restlessness in him? There was movement in him even when he was still, sound even when he was silent. What was it he saw when he looked out over the sea? Challenge? Romance?

He was a man who always seemed poised for action, for doing. Yet he could sit quietly and watch the waves as if there were nothing more important than that endless battle between earth and water.

Just now he stood on the deck of his boat, hands on hips, watching the tubby fishing vessel putt toward the horizon. It was something he’d seen countless times, yet he stopped to take it in again. Kate looked where Ky looked and wished she could see what he was seeing.

Quietly she went forward, her deck shoes making no sound, but he turned, eyes still intense. “You’re early,” he said, and with no more greeting reached out a hand to help her on board.

“I thought you might be as anxious to start as I am.”

Palm met palm, rough against smooth. Both of them broke contact as soon as possible.

“It should be an easy ride.” He looked back to sea, toward the boat, but this time he didn’t focus on it. “The wind’s coming in from the north, no more than ten knots.”

“Good.” Though it wouldn’t have mattered to her nor, she thought, to him, if the wind had been twice as fast. This was the morning to begin.