Sarah Morgan - First Time in Forever

“You live here?” she asked.

“Does that surprise you?”

It did, but she reminded herself that all that mattered was that he wasn’t one of the media pack. He couldn’t be. Apart from an island newsletter and a few closed Facebook groups, there was no media on Puffin Island.

Emily decided she was jumpy because of the briefing she’d had from Lana’s lawyers. She was seeing journalists in her sleep. She was forgetting there were normal people out there. People whose job wasn’t to delve into the business of others.

“I wasn’t expecting visitors. But I appreciate you checking on us. Me. I mean me.” She could see from the faint narrowing of those eyes that her slip hadn’t gone unnoticed, and she wondered if he’d seen the little girl peeping from the window. “It’s a lovely island.”

“It is. Which makes me wonder why you’re viewing it around a half-closed door. Unless you’re Red Riding Hood.” The amusement in his eyes was unsettling.

Looking at that wide, sensual mouth, she had no doubt he could be a wolf when it suited him. In fact, she was willing to bet that if you laid down the hearts he’d broken end-to-end across the bay, you’d be able to walk the fourteen miles to the mainland without getting your feet wet.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

His question confirmed that she didn’t share Lana’s acting ability.

His gaze lingered on hers, and her heart rate jumped another level. She reminded herself that a stressed out ex-management consultant who could freeze water without the help of an electrical appliance was unlikely to be to his taste.

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“Are you sure? Because I can slay a dragon if that would help.”

The warmth and the humor shook her more than the lazy, speculative look.

“This cottage is isolated, and I wasn’t expecting visitors, that’s all. I have a cautious nature.” Especially since she’d inherited her half sister’s child.

“Brittany asked me to check on you. She didn’t tell you?”

“You’re a friend of Brittany’s?” That knowledge added intimacy to a situation that should have had none. Now, instead of being strangers, they were connected. She wondered why Brittany would have made that request, and then remembered the panicky message she’d left on her friend’s voice mail the night before. She obviously hadn’t wasted a moment before calling in help.

Her heart lurched and then settled because she knew Brittany would never expose her secret. If she’d involved this man, then it was because she trusted him.

“We both grew up here. She was at school with one of my sisters. They used to spend their summers at Camp Puffin—sailing, kayaking and roasting marshmallows.”

It sounded both blissful and alien. She tried to imagine a childhood that had included summer camp.

“It was kind of you to drop by. I’ll let Brittany know you called and fulfilled your duty.”

His smile was slow and sexy. “Believe me, duty has never looked so good.”

Something about the way he said it stirred her senses, as did his wholly appreciative glance. Brief but thorough enough to give her the feeling he could have confirmed every one of her measurements if pressed to do so.

It surprised her.

Men usually found her unapproachable. Neil had once accused her of being like the polar ice cap without the global warming.

“If I married you I’d spend my whole life shivering and wearing thermal underwear.”

He thought her problem lay in her inability to show emotion.

To Emily it wasn’t a problem. It was an active decision. Love terrified her. It terrified her so much she’d decided at an early age that she’d rather live without it than put herself through the pain. She couldn’t understand why people craved it. She now lived a safe protected life. A life in which she could exist secure in the knowledge that no one was going to explode a bomb inside her heart.

She didn’t want the things most people wanted.

Flustered by the look in his eyes, she pushed her hair back from her face in a self-conscious gesture. “I’m sure you have a million things you could be doing with your day. I’m also sure babysitting isn’t on your list of desirable activities.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an accomplished babysitter. Tell me how you know Brittany. College friend? You don’t look like an archaeologist.” He had the innate self-confidence of someone who had never met a situation he couldn’t handle, and now he was handling her , teasing out information she didn’t want to give.

“Yes, we met in college.”

“So, how is she doing?”

“She didn’t tell you that when she called to ask you to babysit?”

“It was a text, and, no, she didn’t tell me anything. Is she still digging in Corfu?”

“Crete.” Emily’s mouth felt dry. “She’s in Western Crete.” There was something about those hooded dark eyes that encouraged a woman to part with confidences. “So you’ve known Brittany all your life?”

“I rescued her from a fight when she was in first grade. She’d brought a piece of Kathleen’s sea glass into school for show-and-tell and some kid stole it. She exploded like a human firecracker. I’m willing to bet they could see the sparks as far south as Port Elizabeth.”

It sounded so much like Brittany, she didn’t bother questioning the veracity of his story.

Relaxing slightly, she took a deep breath and saw his gaze drop fleetingly to her chest.

Brittany had once teased her that God had taken six inches off her height and added it to her breasts. Given the choice, Emily would have chosen height.

“You knew Kathleen?”

“Yeah, I knew Kathleen. Does that mean you’re going to open the door to me?” His voice was husky and amused. “Puffin Island is a close community. Islanders don’t just know each other, we rely on each other. Especially in winter after the summer tourists have gone. A place like this brings people together. Added to that, Kathleen was a close friend of my grandmother.”

“You have a grandmother?” She tried to imagine him being young and vulnerable, and failed.

“I do. She’s a fine woman who hasn’t given up hope of curing me of my wicked ways. So, how long are you staying?” His question caught her off guard. It made her realize how unprepared she was. She had no story. No explanation for her presence.

“I haven’t decided. Look Mr.—”

“Ryan Cooper.” He stepped forward and held out his hand, giving her no choice but to take it.

Warm strong fingers closed around hers, and she felt something shoot through her. The intense sexual charge was new to her, but that didn’t mean she didn’t recognize it for what it was. It shimmered in the air, spread along her skin and sank into her bones. She imagined those hands on her body and that mouth on hers. Unsettled, she snatched her hand away, but the low hum of awareness remained. It was as if touching him had triggered something she had no idea how to switch off.

Shaken by a connection she hadn’t expected, she stepped back. “I’m sure Brittany will appreciate you dropping by to check on the cottage, but as you can see, everything is fine, so—”

“I wasn’t checking on the cottage. I was checking on you. I’m guessing Eleanor. Or maybe, Alison.” He stood without budging an inch, legs spread. It was obvious he wasn’t going to move until he was ready. “Rebecca?”

“What?”

“Your name. Puffin Island is a friendly place. Around here the name is the first thing we learn about someone. Then we go deeper.”

Her breath caught. Was that sexual innuendo? Something in that dark, velvety voice made her think it might have been, except that she didn’t need to look in the mirror to know that a man like him was unlikely to waste time on someone like her. He was the type who liked his women thawed, not deep-frozen. “I don’t think I’ll be seeing much of people.”