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surprising stealth, even in his work boots.
    Gratefully, Grace nodded and went to stand up. A spasm seized her lower back, causing her to groan.
    “What’s up?” Jack moved closer.
    She shook her head, massaging the aching spot in her back and waving him off at the same time. First blisters, now a cramped back. Surely she wasn’t a citified weakling? “It’s nothing.”
    He looked her up and down. “Not used to this kind of thing, are you?”
    Under his scrutiny she became even more aware of her flushed face, the damp patches under her arms, and the dust clinging to her legs. What a disheveled mess she must seem to him. The complete contrast to his late wife. Becky used to float like a summer cloud into Macintyre’s, always charming and perfumed in silks and diamonds, her shiny, blond curls immaculate, her smile dazzling. She’d beam at everyone in the office and stop for a chat before sashaying into Jack’s office. Dainty, feminine Becky had made everyone else feel like uncouth amazons.
    “Hey, it’s better than a gym workout.” She rolled her shoulders, attempting to ignore the pain in her back and her hands.
    His eyes tracked a bead of sweat as it rolled down her temple. “The climate takes a bit of getting used to.”
    It wasn’t just the climate that was getting to her. It was Jack’s proximity, too. The breeze skimming through the building brought his scent curling into her nostrils. He smelled of honest work and something masculine, potent, and far more alluring than any expensive men’s cologne. Her cheeks grew warmer as she noted the strong column of his neck, the heft of his shoulders, the hair falling over his eyes, and the faint stubble grazing his jaw. Now that she knew he hadn’t been wasting his time on the island, it was even harder to ignore her attraction to him. The steamy jungle surrounds accentuated his red-blooded, primitive virility, and standing here ogling him did strange things to her, making her mouth go dry while other parts of her body moistened.
    The ends of his lips quirked up, as if he could read every licentious thought riffling through her head. “Want to grab some lunch at my place?”
    His knowing half smile made her knees wobble. “Uh, sure.”
    Way to go, girl. What a scintillating response . Oh heck, why did she even care about making a good impression on Jack?
    The walk back to his bungalow didn’t take more than five minutes, but by the time they reached it, the blazing midday sun had sapped the last of her energy, and she wilted onto a seat at the table as soon as they stepped inside.
    Jack frowned at her. “You’d be more comfortable on the couch.”
    “Oh, no.” She forced herself to sit a little straighter. “I don’t want to mess your upholstery with my dirty clothes.”
    “The bathroom’s just through there.” He nodded toward a door down the hall. “You can wash up first.”
    “Thanks.” But her bottom was stuck to the chair, and her legs refused to obey her. “In a minute.”
    He folded his arms across his chest, his eyes calculating. “Guess you’ve had enough of playing Bob the Builder, huh?”
    Playing? Is that what he thought she’d been doing? She pulled herself upright, the tendons in her lower back pinging in protest. “Not at all. I’ll finish sanding that railing this afternoon.” As she motioned, her hand brushed against the edge of the table, and she couldn’t suppress her wince.
    The furrow between his eyes deepened. Reaching out, he grasped her wrists and turned her hands palms upward on the table. The blisters had swelled to red, angry-looking sacs, and her fingers were scored across with small welts.
    “What the hell! Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
    She tugged to free her hands, but he had her pinned fast. “It’s just a few blisters. It’s nothing—”
    “The hell it is.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. He pulled her to her feet. “Come with me.”
    Unsettled by his hands clamped around her wrists, she