They had been at the beach house for two days. Michael knew this because he counted the minutes and hours. He tortured himself now watching Isla in a pair of too short denim shorts that allowed that damn red bikini to peak from beneath it. He sat in a lounger watching Isla and Ryan as they played at the water's edge. He laughed at Ryan's attempt at bravery when she ran up to the waves, but ran back once she realized they were bigger than she was. Isla swept her into her arms just as the wave covered them both. They were both knocked to the sand by the wave.
Thirty days is a long time he thought to himself. Why are you torturing yourself was his next thought. Isla was sex personified. Everything about her was sexy. Michael thought of how she ate enormous amounts of food at each setting and that even turned him on. He laughed when he thought about how Isla always says you can't trust people that don't eat. Ryan's shriek caught his attention and he laughed as she attempted to kick water at Isla. Michael grabbed his camera and began snapping away. He had always been a fan of off guard photos. These he would cherish once the thirty days were over. He watched Isla now, and even in mother mode, she was sexy as hell. Damn! This is going to be a long thirty days. He looked towards heaven. "Thanks for the setup old girl."
Michael watched Isla and continued to snap pictures. He remembered his first time meeting Isla he was floored. Hurricane Isla came storming into Thomas' office demanding to know why her credit card had been shut off. Once Thomas had explained to the then sixteen-year-old Isla that she was over spending, she emptied her entire Coach bag on his desk and proceeded to shred every credit card her father had given her. Isla then turned to Michael and said, "Hello, I'm Isla Marine DiAmico, will you please tell my father I don't need his money." She then walked out of the office slamming the door behind her. Michael smiled at the memory. Her temper had always been short, Thomas had explained. All Michael could remember about that day was how red her face got when she was angry. Any other time her smooth mocha complexion just held him captive. He had seen Thomas a month later being escorted by his eldest daughter, Taryn. He had asked him then how long it took Isla to ask for the credit cards to be replaced. He had watched sadness creep into the older man's eyes. "She hasn't," Thomas had replied.
Michael and Thomas had just become acquainted. The day Isla stormed into his office had been their first meeting. Michael had become acquainted with Taryn because she worked in her father's office. He knew she was in relationship with Adrian. Everyone had hopes of them getting married. Sadness began to wash over Michael as he realized that night at the party had been his last time seeing Taryn alive.
"Why the long face, Cowboy?" A dripping wet Isla stood before him looking every bit the fantasy woman of any man's dreams. Her cut off shorts hung low on her hips and Michael could again see a glimpse of the red bikini bottom. The white button down was now wet and he could clearly see the red bikini top that hardly contained the delicious breast that he had become familiar with while they were married. Her raven colored hair hung down her back and curled in mass on her head. Michael fought the urge to wrestle her to the sand and kiss her senseless. The miniature replica standing next to her with the grin on her face was the sole reason he resisted.
"I was thinking of the day we met. That led to thoughts of Taryn and the last time I saw her." He left off the "alive" part. He knew she would be sad enough knowing he was thinking of her sister. Isla only nodded and then took Ryan by the hand and headed for the house.
After dinner, Ryan watched a movie and then drifted off to sleep. Michael carried her to her room and tucked her in. "Thank you for putting her to bed."
"I'm her father Isla, its what I'm supposed to do." Isla shrugged her shoulders and retrieved the cookies from the cupboard. Michael took the opportunity to ask what had been nagging him since he found out about Ryan. "Why didn't you tell me about Ryan?"
"I told you I believed you when you said you didn't want kids."
"I don't believe that for a minute. You know me. You have known me better than anyone else has. You know I would have taken care of the two of you."
"The same way Carter took care of Denise. Or maybe the way my father took care of my mother." Michael knew what she was referring to; in both cases, the men had taken the children from their mothers.
"I would have never taken Ryan away from you."
"I couldn't trust that. The track record speaks for itself." She walked away from him. "Isla, you know me. You know I would never do anything to hurt you."
"I only know what the Brotherhood has taught me. I would have liked to believe that you wouldn't have taken Ryan from me, but I couldn't trust that."
"So what makes what you did to me any different than what you feared I would do to you? You kept my child away from me, the same way you were kept from your mother."
Isla looked away from him. He was right she had done that, but finding out she was pregnant gave her a different sense of self worth. Isla felt a connection with the baby as soon as the doctor gave the results of the blood work. There was never a question of should she keep the baby. Her grandmother had urged her to call Michael, but the fear of losing her child was the only reality she could think of. She had refused out of fear of rejection and fear of losing the only guaranteed love she would ever have.
