"Stop wiggling like a salted worm!"

Luke peered through his dark glasses and asked, "What on earth is a salted worm?"

"Didn't you do that when you were a kid? Like a science experiment... when you sprinkled salt on a worm, it wiggled!"

"Jess, you work in the scientific field. What you just said is not an experiment! You tortured an innocent worm!"

"Shut up, what kind of childhood did you have?"

He laughed and pushed Jess off her sunlounger. "Don't talk shit about my normal childhood."

They were giggling like children when Lucille appeared, dressed in a rainbow-colored summer dress and carrying a Panda stuffed animal.

"Uncle Luke!!"

"Oh, look who's here!" He got up from the sunbed and opened his arms for Lucille.

Jess' heart is thumping wildly on her chest, not because of the heartwarming scene between Luke and Lucille.

It was because Noah was walking leisurely with his left hand in his pocket. He was barefoot in the sand. His pants were rolled up showing off his toned calf. He wore a white shirt with two open buttons showing off his toned chest.

In his right hand, he held his coat loosely on his broad shoulder. His hair was flowing freely in the wind. A three o'clock shadow on his chin made his appearance so dangerously handsome.

'Why the hell does he look like he's shooting a print commercial for men's business suits?' she wondered, burying her toes in the sand as she watched him approach.

"Uncle Luke, our vacation is already over." she pursed her lips. "I'm going to miss you." her eyes watered.

"I'll miss you too." he gave her a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Papa," she called out in a whiny voice. And when she turned around, she hugged her father's legs. Her shoulder was shaking, trying to control her tears.

Luke felt like crying too. He never imagined he would become attached to a small human in such a short time. He ruffled Lucille's hair.

However, his action just made the little girl cry more. He helplessly looked at Jess then at Noah, who bent down to pick up his daughter.

"Hush, hush," he gently tapped her back and let her cry.

Jess moved to Luke's sunbed and tapped his thigh. "Don't you dare cry," she whispered, seeing that Luke was already biting his bottom lip.

"Hey, Lucille. Why are you crying when you can see uncle Luke every time you visit your papa?" she teasingly asked.

"But..." she sobbed, "My summer vacation -- " she couldn't finish her sentence with all her sobbing.

"You can send uncle Luke a message --" she looked at Noah, "if your papa is okay with it...and your mama."

Lucille craned her neck to Noah, "Is it okay to send a message other than with you and Mama?"

"If I and Soraya knew who you were sending a message to." He wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

Lucille wiped her tears stricken cheeks and asked her father to put her down.

Jess kicked Luke's leg who was still teary-eyed.

"Jess, can we talk while Lucille talks with Luke?"

She suddenly felt anxious, hearing that Noah wanted to talk.

"Lucille, you stay with uncle Luke. "I need to talk to Little Miss Jessie," he told his daughter, who did not pay him any more attention. She was already explaining to Luke her schedule once she's back to school.

Seeing his daughter had already forgotten him, he cocked his head to Jess, who reluctantly got up from the sunbed to follow him.

He raised an eyebrow as his eyes shamelessly scrutinized her body that was clad in a white bikini. She blushed, remembering the time she wore the same bikini.

"Don't say anything," she pouted, walking ahead of Noah, who was grinning like a lecherous teenager.

His voice was laced with amusement as he replied, "I wouldn't say anything."

She didn't slow down for she didn't want him to see her cheeks flushed darker than her tan in embarrassment.

The scandalous image of her gasping and moaning in ecstasy as Noah dry-humped her on the stairs leading to her villa in broad daylight will always haunt her!

When he placed his coat around her shoulders, she flinched as she was hit by the familiar smell of Noah.

"Wear it. I don't want to gauge their eyes with their lusty gazes on you," he whispered.

Her attention was still focused on the scandalous image of them in her head. She didn't realize that he already caught up with her.

"Why are you blushing, Miss Zimmerman?" He asked when he realized Jess had been avoiding his eyes since he noticed her white bikini. "Are you thinking of something naughty?" He whispered into her ears as he grabbed her by the shoulder and drew her closer to him.

"I-I don't know what you are talking about!" she stammered in response.

She tried to remove his arm on her shoulder but he tightened his grip and pulled her closer he was almost hugging her.

She heard the low laughter rolling down his throat and her heart skipped a beat. His laughter sounds like shattered waves when they crash against the shore.

"Let me go," her voice became a whisper as she realized that he had no intention of letting her go.

"Jess," he heaved a deep sigh, burying his face on her salty hair. "I don't have any intention of letting you go. I don't know what it is that makes you scared of committing to me, but I don't care."

He hooked her chin to make her look at his eyes, "I have no intention of letting you go. Let's make that clear."

"That's why it scares me," she whispered in a trembling voice.

Clearly confused, he asked, "Why?"

She tiptoed on the sand and took Noah's lips in a fervent kiss. It was a passionate kiss, one that has all the shadow of her heart turmoil and uncertainties.

***

"Uncle Luke, promise me that you will send me a message and that you will never forget me until we meet again," she raised her right hand. "Pinky promise?"

He hooked her finger with his, and replied with the same phrase, "Pinky promise! Just don't cry, okay?"

"I was just sad. But this summer is the best summer ever!" she grinned and threw herself into his arms.

Luke embraced the little girl tightly in his arms and was filled with an unfamiliar rage in his chest. He couldn't imagine that there are people in this world that would hurt a child because of her father's financial status.

The image of Jess as a child, the girl in his arms, and what they went through and were still going through were entangled in his mind. Money is not always a good thing.

The traumatic experience Lucille was going through would leave emotional scars that even the most expensive shrink couldn't fix.

It's possible that she doesn't perceive the severity of the situation yet. He dreaded the time when she grew up and realized those "accidents" were caused by people who were after her life.

Seeing this side of the life of someone who grew up in a family with money, name, and power under their name, he realized how difficult and suffocating it could be.

He commended Noah for trying to give Lucille a normal childhood -- well, not very normal. It's not normal for every kid to have a whole entourage of nannies and security, who can travel pretty much anywhere in the world on a private plane.

He wasn't born with a golden spoon. While most people only see the glamour and the fun of this life, when he saw the darker side, he wondered if he would choose it if he were given a chance.

"Uncle Luke --"

Lucille jolted him out of his thoughts when she called his name. "Yes, darling?"

"Where did Papa and Little Miss Jessie go?" she hoped off from his lap and scanned the beach for her father and Little Miss Jessie.

"I have no idea, darling. Maybe they walked too far and got lost." He saw the direction Noah and Jess went but when he craned his neck, he could not see them.

"What time is it now, uncle Luke?"

"It's quarter to eight now," he replied, looking at the time on his wristwatch.

"Our plane will leave at nine-thirty." She felt tired stretching out her neck to the shoreline, trying to find her father, so she sat down next to Luke in the sunbed.

"What does the inside of your plane look like, Lucille?"

"Inside of the plane like?" she tilted her head to see his face, "What do you mean, uncle Luke?" she asked, puzzled.

This girl might never fly commercially. She has no way of knowing the difference between flying in a private plane and flying in a commercial plane, especially in a budget airline - that a commoner like him is accustomed to.