Bachelor Unclaimed

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She didn’t believe that for one minute. “I want my old job back, Bobby—including my office and weekly column.”

“You resigned, so sure that you were going to win that election, and we hired someone else.”

He was right. She had thought she would win. Deciding to use another approach, she said. “My replacement is doing a piss-poor job with that column and you and I both know it. I read the reviews.”

Bobby let out a deep sigh. “Giving you your old job back won’t be that easy. She’s the niece of someone at the top.”

Ainsley nervously gnawed on her bottom lip. In that case, it wouldn’t be easy but not impossible. “I’ll give you what you want from Chambers and you work on getting me what I want.”

Bobby didn’t say anything for a minute and then, “You deliver the goods on Chambers and I’ll see what I can do. And I need a newsbreaker, St. James. Chambers has been a recluse on that island. So far we’re the only ones who’ve gotten a lead as to where he lives so we need to move fast. It’s going to be up to you to convince the old man to do the interview.”

“Wait! Hold up! Are you saying Chambers hasn’t agreed to talk to me?”

“Not just you, he hasn’t agreed to talk to anyone. I understand he prefers the solitude with all those sea creatures. He doesn’t have a life. In fact, he doesn’t even know anyone has discovered his whereabouts. Chances are he won’t be too happy when you show up, but hopefully you can soften up the old man.”

She frowned. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“No problem and if you get discouraged, just remember that this story makes you one step closer to reclaiming your old job, including your office and your column.” He quickly added, “But I can’t make promises.”

Ainsley smiled. “Too late, Bobby. You just did. Get the presses ready. I plan on giving you one hell of a scoop.”

Chapter 6

Ainsley brought her car to a stop and glanced at the huge sign. Entering Barrett Shores. You’re not welcome unless you were invited.

Well, she thought. You couldn’t get any clearer than that. She then looked ahead at the bridge in front of her, the one that would take her across the Port Royal Sound to the island. The first question that came to her mind was whether or not it was safe. It was made of wood and the planks didn’t look sturdy enough to hold a cart much less a car. But tire tracks ingrained in the wooden surface over time indicated vehicles had driven across without making the old bridge come tumbling down. She compressed her lips deciding she would take her chances. What choice did she have if she wanted her old job back?

Humming “Nearer, My God, to Thee,” she put her car in Drive and slowly moved ahead. As soon as her front tire touched the plank, she held her breath and tried taking her mind off the lack of sturdiness of the bridge by noticing the beauty of the surrounding area. Through the tall oak trees peeked the blue-green of the Atlantic Ocean. The view was simply breathtaking.

She released a sigh of relief when she made it off the bridge and lifted her head to give thanks. Hopefully, she’d be going back across before dark. If old man Chambers didn’t agree to the interview she would be leaving the island a lot sooner than that. Refusing to consider he wouldn’t do the interview, she squared her shoulders and drove on, following the one-lane road that, according to her GPS, would lead her right to the sanctuary where Dr. R. J. Chambers lived and worked. She had spent the last two days trying to get as much information on the man as she could. There had been plenty, on his Facebook page and in Wikipedia. Both of those had provided a picture of a distinguished-looking man in his late sixties or early seventies. However, nothing she’d researched had provided anything else about his identity and whereabouts. Bobby was right. The man was living the life of a recluse.

She rounded a curve in the road and quickly brought the car to a stop when her breath caught. “Wow!”

Ainsley wasn’t exactly sure what she had expected of Chambers’s home but it definitely hadn’t been this. The view while driving across the bridge had been spectacular, but this here was so magnificent it actually left her breathless.

Tucked away amid the tallest oak trees she’d ever seen was a sprawling three-story house with over eight hundred feet of beachfront. It was early January, yet all the leaves were a deep evergreen. It was as if spring had come early here while some places farther north were snow covered.

The house itself looked as if it could hold four or five families easily. But she figured most of the rooms were where Dr. Chambers did his work. The man usually published a book every eighteen months, in addition to being a regular contributor to numerous marine publications. But the drug before the FDA was rumored to be his biggest achievement yet and already several pharmaceutical companies wanted his named linked to their corporation. So far he had committed to none.

Her gaze traveled to the sky, saw the strength of the sun and how it appeared to kiss the blue-green waters of the ocean. She could imagine waking up to such a view every morning. The old man was a recluse and now she could see why. If she had this at her fingertips, she would never leave the island, either. She could imagine sitting on the docks nursing a margarita while enjoying the view of endless water. She wasn’t surprised that a man, successful in the study of eliminating sexual dysfunction, would live on a private island like a king.

After parking the car, she got out and glanced around. She expected a member of Chambers’s staff to appear and tell her that she was trespassing. When it became obvious no one would be there to intercept her, she began walking around the gate trying to find a good place to enter. After risking her life by driving across that bridge, there was no way she was leaving without attempting to see Dr. Chambers.

Winston muttered a curse when the buzzer went off in his lab. Someone was on his property. He pushed away from the huge aquarium and angrily snatched the work gloves off his hands. He was in the middle of cleaning out one of his tanks and there was no reason to get interrupted. Evidently someone hadn’t read the huge sign before crossing the bridge. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. He had thought about removing the bridge completely, which meant he could only use his boat whenever he needed to get to Hilton Head or Parris Island. But why should he be inconvenienced because someone refused to adhere to his wishes?

Ignoring the dolphins flipping around in the huge tank as he passed by, he checked his watch. It would be feeding time for them soon and, with all he had to do, he should stay on schedule. He moved into the lobby of his work area and picked up the remote to turn on the nearest security monitor. A flat screen mounted on the wall flared to life and he immediately saw the car parked on the west side of his property.

Switching to other security channels, he didn’t see a thing. York, a former officer for the NYPD, who owned a high-tech security firm in New York, had installed the state-of-the-art system himself. And knowing how much of a stickler York was to detail, it would be just a matter of time before Charley discovered the location of his intruder.

Charley was the name he’d given the talking security system that had the capability of scanning not only every inch of the island but up to one hundred feet of the waterways, to alert him of any intruders arriving by boat, as well. At first it had been hard getting used to the talking device since it seemed to have a mind of its own at times. It reminded him of Kitt, the voice of the talking Trans Am in the Knight Rider TV series.

“Warning. Warning,” Charley blasted. “Trespasser. East grounds.”

“Scan perimeters, Charley,” Winston ordered, switching out of his work shoes into a pair of Nike shoes.

“Vehicle located. Rental. Currently empty.”

“Tell me something I haven’t figured out for myself,” he muttered to the machine.

Charley’s light began flashing. “Repeat command. Didn’t understand. Failed communication.”

Winston rolled his eyes. “Find trespasser and scan.”

He was halfway through the door when Charley blasted out the information. “Found. Female. East grounds.”

Winston nodded as he went toward the door. So his intruder was a woman. Well, she had a lot of explaining to do. Not only had she crossed the bridge to his property when she should not have, but somehow she had gotten through the east gate. The only way she could have done that was by picking the lock.

“Notify authorities?” Charley asked.

“No” was Winston’s single response before stepping out the door. Whoever the brazen woman was, he would handle her himself.

Making his way to the balcony, he saw a glimpse of her as she quickly crossed the east patio. He took the stairs two at a time as he moved up to the main floor. Easing open the French doors, he stood concealed by several huge plants. It would only be a matter of time before she came dashing his way.

Suddenly, there was a stirring in the pit of his groin and he wondered why. Then he knew. His nostrils had picked up a scent and it was the same fragrance that had remained with him for the past week and a half. The same scent he woke to each morning and went to bed with at night. The scent of the woman whose memory just wouldn’t leave him.

Red.

A fine time for his imagination to run wild, he thought. Steeling his mind against the scent he wished like hell he could forget, he pressed against the wall, determined that whoever she was, she wouldn’t slip past him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a slender figure and then a flash of blue. And then as if on cue, he emerged from his hiding place and grabbed her by the arm, bringing her body to his. “Look, lady, this is private property. You have no right to be here. And you’re leaving now!”

She fought, trying to reclaim her arm but he held tight in an attempt to drag her back to where her car was parked.

“Let go of me, you ass.”

Something about that voice, as well as the scent that continued to corrode his senses, made him loosen his hold on her at the same time she swung around and lifted her foot to deliver a firm kick in his groin. He jumped out of the way and his jaw dropped when he saw her face. “Red?”

She gasped and froze when she pushed all that hair from her face. Shock etched her features and rendered her speechless for a moment. Finally she regained her voice. “Winston?”

He continued to stare at her while struggling to decipher just why she was there. Seeing her again did something to him. It was as if a keg of dynamite filled with lust suddenly exploded inside his entire body. Without thinking, he reached out, pulled her close and captured her mouth with his.

Ainsley had intended to shove him away, bite his tongue, or scream in protest … however, she did none of those things. The moment her senses reacquainted with his taste, a taste she hadn’t been able to forget, there was nothing she could do but stand there and moan.

And while doing so she disregarded everything, including the way his hands moved all over her body, over her curves, cupping her backside and tightening around her waist. Instead his touch compelled her to react—so she did, by kissing him back and wrapping her arms around his neck.

This was insane. This was madness. Totally crazy. She knew this and figured he knew it as well, but something was driving them to lose themselves in this kiss.

The intensity of it increased and she felt his hand ease up the back of her blouse to touch her skin. The moment he did, her flesh felt scorched from the heat of his fingers.

Suddenly he broke off the kiss and gazed down at her, his eyes filled with as much desire as they had on their night together. He reached out a hand and used his fingertips to trace a trail across her moist lips. “I hadn’t expected you to come looking for me, but I’m glad you did. And since you’re here, let’s not waste any time.”

What? Did he actually think she had come here looking for him? He moved closer and drew her to him again, intending to get another kiss. She shoved him away. “I didn’t come here for this … or for you.”

She could actually see the look of surprise in the dark depths of his eyes. “You didn’t?”

“Of course not.”

He lifted a brow. “Of course not?”

“Yes,” she said straightening her blouse and tucking it back inside her jeans and then smoothing her hair. “Why would you think such a thing?”

Why indeed? Winston thought, leaning back against the brick wall and regarding her intently. He liked the way she did that, fluff all that hair from her face with a single flick of her wrist. He thought she looked good in jeans, just as good as she had in a dress. Almost. He liked seeing her legs. But then, it seemed that no matter what she put on those luscious curves of hers, it could set his body on fire.

“Well?”

He glanced away from those curves and up to her face. “Well, what?”

She placed her hands on her hips and shifted her legs in one of those I’m-ready-to-take-you-on stances. “What made you think I came here looking for you? In fact, that night, you led me to believe you weren’t from Hilton Head.”

Winston placed his arms across his chest. “I’m not. This is Barrett Shores, an island separate from Hilton Head. And it’s private property and you’re here uninvited. Sex was good between us that night, so what else am I to think other than you came looking for me?”

Ainsley frowned. The man had an oversize ego. She had no intentions of stroking it by agreeing to how good the sex was. “I’m not here to see you. I’m here to see Dr. Chambers.”

He dropped his hands to his side, straightened from the wall and lifted a brow. “Dr. Chambers?”

“Yes.”

After pausing a moment, he asked, “And what is your business with him?”

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you, his bodyguard?”

Winston inwardly smiled. She didn’t know just how close to the truth that was. “Yes, I’m his bodyguard and you need to state your business with me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She then opened the small pouch around her neck and pulled out a business card. “Here. Now if you’ll just let him know I’d like to meet with him, I would appreciate it.”

Winston studied the card she handed him. Ainsley St. James, News Reporter, The New York Times. He glanced back at her. Ainsley? Her real name was Ainsley? He smiled, liking it already.

“What’s so funny?” she asked in a waspish tone.

He wiped the smile off this face. “Nothing.”

He then glanced back down at the card … at her occupation again. She was a reporter? Aw, hell. Winston immediately thought about his brother Evan who’d played in the NFL. A couple years back Evan had fallen for some reporter who had only wanted a story. She had pretended affection for Evan while doing an exposé on NFL players’ use of steroids. Although Evan’s reputation hadn’t gotten damaged by the story, several of his teammates’ had and he’d felt partly to blame. Winston recalled his brother’s pain at the woman’s betrayal and he had made up in his mind after that episode to never get involved with a reporter.

He glanced back at her and slid the business card in the pocket of his shirt. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your car,” he said, taking hold of her arm.

She dug in her heels. “Wait! I can’t leave yet. I told you I’m here to see Dr. Chambers.”

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “How would you know?”

“I know because he doesn’t do reporters.”

“I understand that. I also know he’s gone to great lengths to keep his whereabouts hidden and all.”

“Yes, he has,” Winston replied, and then one dark brow rose. “And that has me wondering how you found him.”

She blew out a deep breath. “Surely you don’t expect me to expose my sources.”

“Yes, I do. Either to me or Chambers. Either way he won’t see you.”

“Then I want to hear it from him.”

“He’s busy.”

“I’ll wait. You’re his bodyguard, not his spokesman.”

Winston chuckled as he leaned back against the wall again. “He values anything I tell him, trust me.” Every muscle in his body went rigid when a suspicion Winston didn’t like floated across his mind. Had she been on to him that night? He looked at her and frowned. “That night you told me you were in Hilton Head on a vacation.”