Kate James - Sanctuary Cove

Was it possible it was all about Daniel trying to reinvent himself as a political reporter, a position he’d been promoted to shortly before the allegations surfaced? Was he simply trying to advance his career?

Emma tapped a fingernail on the side of her mug.

The senator’s characterization of Daniel didn’t fit. Her research and her instincts both told her Daniel was not the type of reporter who would misrepresent the facts or fabricate a story. And why would Daniel have lied to her? Had he somehow seen her as a pawn to further his cause?

No. None of that rang true.

But if Daniel hadn’t lied to her, why was there no story?

Was it possible Richard had been right...about Daniel and about her? Could Daniel have misled her? And by misleading her, precipitated the events that caused her world to crumble?

“Oh, my God,” she whispered and squeezed her eyes shut.

It was unthinkable...

CHAPTER FOUR

EMMA HAD ANOTHER restless night. She woke exhausted and with a miniature construction crew gleefully hammering away in her head. But the insistent pounding hadn’t been enough to banish the nagging doubts about Daniel Leighton.

After swallowing two painkillers, eating breakfast and taking Max for his morning walk, she felt marginally better. She poured more coffee into her mug and took it to her office. Max followed her, stretched out next to the chair and was soon snoring softly.

If only her life was as tough as Max’s, Emma mused with a weak smile as she started up her laptop and opened the brand-proposal document. She sipped her coffee while she reviewed what she’d already done. Getting to the end of the document, she placed her mug on the coaster with more force than she’d intended, the smacking sound startling Max.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said to him and tried to tamp down her frustration.

The proposal was mediocre at best. It lacked originality and pizzazz. Thank goodness she didn’t have to have it complete until the end of the month.

Maybe Richard had been right, and she just wasn’t suited to work in her chosen field—even on a part-time basis and without final creative approval.

Had she ever been good at it? she wondered.

Yeah. Sure, she tried to bolster herself. She’d been in demand, had been promoted several times at Tyson, Myers and Smith until she’d reached the highest position she could without becoming a full partner. She’d been recognized with an award—communications professional of the year—twice!

But now...

She stared at the computer screen. She’d been insistent with the owner of Pinnacle Communications that she didn’t want her name associated with the work. She’d do it on a ghostwriting basis.

If that wasn’t an indication of lack of confidence in her abilities, what was?

The owner had agreed to her condition without much discussion. He’d said it was because he wanted her on board regardless. Staring at her screen, Emma decided to start fresh rather than fix the stale ideas in the existing document. She tried to immerse herself in it, but soon realized it was futile. Frankly, she had no idea how to differentiate the athletic wear manufacturer in an already crowded marketplace. Instead, she decided to work outside.

She mowed and weeded and pruned vigorously for hours, all the while thinking about Daniel Leighton, Morgan and, of course, Richard, and all that had happened. By the time she stopped midafternoon, she was exhausted but in a much better frame of mind.

She’d been jumping to conclusions. She couldn’t have been wrong about Daniel and what he’d shown her. She was positive that he was scrupulous.

There had to be another reason he hadn’t gone public with the information he had. With resolve, she pushed the matter out of her mind again.

She showered, and dressed in faded jeans and a yellow T-shirt. In deference to the heat, she bound her hair up in a high ponytail. Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d missed lunch. While she ate a sandwich, she thought about the injured dog...and the veterinarian.

She considered calling Josh at the clinic but rejected the idea. She wanted to see for herself how the dog was. She didn’t want to give Josh the opportunity to talk her out of it again.

The clinic closed at five and it was nearing that time when she parked her X5 in front of it next to a green Toyota. She was struck again by the size of the building. Granted, it was a combination of Josh’s home and the clinic, but the clinic was a relatively small addition. The main house itself was large and rambling. While there was no obvious symmetry, the wood and stone of the façade complemented each other and the surrounding landscape.

Josh was behind the reception counter with his back to Emma when she walked quietly inside. He was preoccupied with a computer sitting on a side table. The only other person in the room was an elderly lady, cradling a white toy poodle.

Josh dragged his fingers through his already mussed hair, and continued to fidget with the mouse.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Mrs. Fields,” he said, without glancing back. “I’ll have your invoice ready in a minute.”

“That’s all right, m’dear. Take your time. I don’t mind waiting,” Mrs. Fields replied. She stroked the poodle’s wiry fur and gave Emma a wide, toothy smile.

The computer finally prompted the printer, and Josh let out a sigh. As he grabbed the invoice he’d just printed, the telephone rang. He placed the invoice on the counter for Mrs. Fields to review, then snatched up the receiver and turned. His gaze collided with Emma’s, and a slow smile spread across his face.

Her heart rate quickened and she forced a smile in return. She waved to him, then at a loss with what to do with her hands, she tucked them in the front pockets of her jeans.

Josh greeted the caller, but his eyes remained steady on hers.

She met his stare with an odd mixture of discomfort and excitement. There was no denying Josh’s appeal, but appearance wasn’t everything. His personality probably left a lot to be desired, as he’d been temperamental and unpleasant the night they’d met.

Her smile faded, and she ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips. She immediately regretted the gesture, when Josh’s gaze dipped down and his smile turned into a grin. And that grin alone made it difficult for her to breathe.

In what she hoped looked to be a casual move, she went to the display shelving at the far side of the room to examine the pet foods the clinic offered for sale.

She knew he was still watching her by the heat of his gaze on her shoulders and an itch along her spine. She lifted a can of dog food, pretending to examine its label, and listened to Josh conclude the phone call and turn his attention back to his client.

“Here’s your credit card, Mrs. Fields. Try not to worry about Muffy. She’s perfectly healthy and should stay that way for a long time.”

Emma marveled at the charm and warmth in his voice.

“Enjoy the rest of your day and please give my regards to your sister,” he said.

“I will, of course. Dottie should be in soon with her Ginger. Bye, now,” the gray-haired lady said as she walked out.

Josh flipped the hanging sign on the door to Closed.

By the time Emma turned to face him fully, he was leaning casually against the door watching her.

Her heart rate kicked up another notch, both surprising and annoying her. She struggled to not let it show. “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

“Not at all. Mrs. Fields’s Muffy was my last patient for the day. The clinic is now officially closed. Thankfully,” he added with a relieved smile.

“Bad day?” He looked tired and his clothes were just a little rumpled. She felt herself soften toward him.