Page 2 of Covert Desires

“Why?”

“Please,” he forces the word through gritted teeth like it hurts him to be polite, “You can’t send me back out there.”

“I can do what I want, thank you very much. Especially in my own place,” I tell him as I calculate my next move.

He’s a bit taller than me and more muscular, but I could probably take him out; I’ve taken out men far bigger than him. The weight of my hidden blade presses against my thigh, a comforting reminder.

Calm down, Kiah, I try to talk myself down, fighting my natural instincts to remove any threat—forcefully, if needed.He’sjustsome guy.

There’s no need to jump into combat mode.

But he shouldn’t be here.

I don’t owe this asshole anything.

In the five years I’ve been hiding out on this island, nobody has ever bothered me during the off-season.

The stormy months are for solitude and introspection, hobbies, working on my strength training…stuff like that.

I’m not about to start changing my routine now.

But the dark-haired stranger refuses to takenofor an answer. “Just tonight. I have nowhere else to go,” he insists. His eyes don’t change as he speaks—they remain dead, unmoving.

“Touching story, but you haven’t explained how you ended up here in the first place. There are no ferries now, no planes. Everyone knows the island is closed this time of year.”

“Private service. Our plane crashed.” He turns, and light catches the intricate tattoo wrapping his neck like a noose of black ink. It's beautiful and threatening at once, sins etched into skin.

I arch a brow, “Our?”

“The pilot didn’t make it.” His face goes blank, a carefully constructed mask.

“But you did?” Skepticism drips from my words. No one flies in this weather. No one survives if they try.

Plus, it’s 2 AM!

His grin is all predator, never touching those frozen eyes. “What can I say? I got lucky?”

The scar under his right eye catches the light - a thin, silver reminder that this man is no stranger to violence.

There is something so unsettling about this man’s presence.

I can’t bring myself to feel empathy for his situation. Maybe because I don’t believe him.

The urge to get rid of him is overwhelming.

Still, I can’t exactly chuck him out in the rain again. All the other hotels and inns are closed. The only people on the island are the locals peacefully asleep in their beds.

I couldn’t care less about what happened to this asshole, but I don’t want to wake up to find half the island decimated by some lunatic. These people have been nothing but kind to me; they don’t deserve it.

Plus, any action would undoubtedly attract outsider attention to the island—which would be problematic, considering I’m trying to keep a low profile.

God-damnit.I wish the phone lines were working, that I could just call someone to take care of this man, but alas, the storm has cut us off completely.

The bleeding stranger either stays here where I can keep an eye on him, or he takes his chaos elsewhere.

At least I have the training to deal with dangerous men.

With a heavy sigh, I reluctantly give in, going against my better judgment.What’s the worst he can do?

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