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moment he encountered the first scar. He didn’t pull back or flinch away, just let his fingers continue caressing her, but she couldn’t go on.
    She pulled back, wanting to run away. To find some place to escape to.
    Max lifted his head. “Let me change and then we’ll have breakfast.”
    He wasn’t going to say anything.
    Grateful for the chance to escape, she stood and left. He knew her secret now—and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to.

Four
    M ax watched the canvas door drop back into place and clenched his fists. Now he knew more about her injury than she’d wanted him to. What the hell had happened?
    He could call Hayden and get all the details. Hayden treated the staff at the Chimera like family, and Max knew that his friend would have the facts. But he would rather have Roxy tell him.
    He changed quickly, barely noticing the clothing, and exited the dressing room. Roxy wasn’t waiting at the table but instead was standing close to the water, watching the waves cycle.
    She turned as he approached, her face still, as ifshe were afraid of what he’d say or do. And his heart ached for her. He realized in a flash that she needed something…someone who could make her forget her scars and the life she’d once had. She needed him—or maybe he could convince her that she did.
    No one should ever feel the way she did. And he knew that she felt alone and in a kind of emotional pain that couldn’t be expressed. Knew it because he’d felt it himself. Of course, that had been long ago before he’d started taking steps to make sure he’d never be dependent on anyone again.
    â€œIsn’t this better than the Grand Canyon?” he asked, striving for a lightness he wished he felt.
    â€œIt’s definitely one of a kind.”
    â€œWell, I try. Want to take a walk? There’s a big surf point at the end of the beach. I don’t know if the waves will be breaking but if they are, well, it’s awesome to watch.”
    â€œI’d like that. Do you surf?”
    â€œNot big waves, but some in Waimae. You?”
    â€œNo. I can’t chance—couldn’t chance an injury.”
    Dancing. He finally started to understand the impact of not being able to perform anymore. “Were you always going to be a dancer?”
    â€œYes. My mom wanted me to be one.”
    â€œWas she living through you? My dad wanted me to row because he’d been on a champion team.”
    â€œNo, it wasn’t like that. She died when I wasfour, and it’s one of the few things I really remember about her.
    â€œShe’d sit in the front room at the dance studio and watch me.”
    Max slipped his hand into hers as they walked down the beach. He was aware of each step she took and made sure that he kept the pace slow so she wouldn’t stumble.
    She told him more about her life and he realized that until recently dancing really had been her everything. Listening was the key to his success in business, and when he’d been in his early twenties he’d realized that he could apply those same techniques to personal relationships.
    But it was hard to focus on social skills when he wanted to pull Roxy back into his arms. He wanted to have her in his bed where he could remove her clothing and see her scars for himself. He wanted to lave them with his tongue and sooth away the lingering hurt they’d left deep inside her.
    â€œWhat?”
    He realized he’d stopped walking and was staring at her. Staring at her waist. “Nothing. Are you ready to head back?”
    She took a deep breath. “I know you felt my scars.”
    â€œYes, I did.”
    She said nothing else and he wasn’t sure how to proceed.
    â€œI just want a chance to get to know you, Roxy. You don’t need to tell me anything, any of your secrets. Keep them for now.”
    They arrived back at their picnic spot. Max seated Roxy and then himself.
    â€œHow did