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“This isn’t exactly a 911 incident, so I guess using the phone to call for a tow truck is out?”
“Yeah,” he muttered. As out as driving her into town as soon as the fog lifted.
“Don’t you have a cell phone or something?”
“No.”
“Everybody has a cell phone.”
“Then where’s yours?” he asked, looking right at her.
She shrugged. “It…it got lost when I went overboard, but it was dead before that.”
“I rest my case,” he murmured.
“Well, if you don’t have a working phone and there’s no cell phone, what does the owner do when he—?”
“I don’t know,” he snapped, his nerves frayed by her constant questions about the owner.
She sank back in the seat. “Then what?”
He knew what they had to do, and he hated the thought. “We’ll just have to wait until morning, then I can walk into town.”
“That’s an awfully long walk,” she said.
He frowned at her. How did she know that? She hadn’t mentioned being on the island before, but then again, he hadn’t been the gracious host, either. “You’ve been on the island before?”
“I’ve been here a few times to talk to beach owners and do some studies. But even I know that it would take you a long time to get into town from here.”
He’d walked the distance a couple of times when he’d needed the physical exhaustion. “I can do it,” he said, and drew back, swinging the door shut after him.
Shay got out and came around to where he stood, limping slightly as she moved closer to bend over and take a look at the tires trapped in the mire. “Whoa, it really is stuck.” She turned, straightening, and grimaced as she shifted her feet.
He could tell that even on the soggy ground, her feet were tender. If he’d been gallant, if he’d been more polite, he would have offered to help her, maybe even carry her so she wouldn’t have to walk. But he wasn’t any of those things anymore. Or maybe he hadn’t forgotten good manners as he’d first thought. When she shifted again, she flinched. He flashed the light down at her feet, at the dirt and grass clinging to them, and caught a glimpse of pale pink polish on her toenails. Then he stepped toward her and picked her up.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held a woman, but he knew that he never should have done this. Everything in him backfired. He’d thought he was doing the right thing, proving to himself that he could still be human, but the moment she was in his arms, he felt his whole being clench. She gasped and twisted to look up at him. “What are you doing?”
He wasn’t at all sure himself, but he knew that he felt his whole body brace as hers leaned into his. Then her arm was around his neck, and he hurried up the driveway to the terrace and headed for the door. He pushed it open, then put her down, and backed up, unconsciously rubbing his hands together as if to free himself of that connection he’d found for a few moments. He sucked in a deep breath, then looked at Shay.
She brushed at her hair as those amber eyes lifted to him. “Thanks,” she said in a soft voice.
“Sure.” He turned from her, and his stomach was roiling so painfully he thought he was going to be sick. He went farther into the house without looking back, stepped out of his boots in the great room and stripped off his peacoat, tossing it over the arm of the nearest couch. When he looked back, Shay was standing across the room, far from where he stood. She was slowly taking off her jacket, but she was watching him.
She looked like a waif, pale and shaking, shifting from foot to foot again on the wooden floor, her hair wildly curling from the moisture. Luke seemed to see her so clearly at that moment that it almost made him ache. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want her here, and mostly, he didn’t want to feel any sort of pity or concern for her. He’d passed that point in his life. He’d vowed not to care about anyone anymore, and he wasn’t going to start with this woman.
He wouldn’t remember her coming into this house, standing in front of him, her eyes huge, her hair clinging to her face and neck. He closed his own eyes tightly. He felt that fragmenting sensation he used to live with all the time, but had managed to push away the past few months.
“Luke?”
The sound of her voice jarred him, and his eyes opened immediately. She was still there, frowning as she came closer. That’s when he moved himself, walking right past her and toward the kitchen. He reached the huge double sink, pressed his hands to the cold tile counter and swallowed hard. He knew Shay was nearby and he made himself speak without turning. “We’re going to be here for a while, so I’ll make some hot soup.”
“That sounds blissful,” Shay said, closer to him than he wanted, but still at a distance.
Blissful? Had he ever felt blissful? He decided that blissful was outside his range of emotions. He opened the cupboard by him, reached for the nearest can of soup and stared at the label until it blurred as he waited for Shay to leave. When he heard her walking away, he exhaled and was able to get air in his lungs. Blissful? No, he never had experienced bliss.
Chapter Three
By the time Luke had the soup heated, found crackers and made more coffee, he felt calmer. He put the food on a tray, then carried it into the great room. Shay was on the nearest couch, curled into one corner, her head against the pillows and her eyes closed. Her rich chestnut hair was drying into soft curls now, touching her pale skin, and her dark lashes lay in arcs on her cheeks. Her peaceful expression was almost tangible, and for a split second, he envied her. It was one thing to never know bliss, but not to have known peace for such a very long time made him ache.
He was startled when her eyes opened without warning, and her soft amber gaze was on him. She smiled, showing the dimples again. “Wonderful,” she exclaimed when she saw the food and shifted to sit up straight.
He felt the impact of her expression in his middle and it was all he could do to control the urge to drop everything and walk away. He steadied himself, and went closer. After placing the tray on the end table nearest her, he returned to the kitchen for his own mug of coffee. She was holding a bowl of soup when he came back, and her content expression made his life feel grim and gray. “This is terrific,” she said, and dipped her spoon in the bowl. “Really terrific.”
He went to open the nearest door when she spoke again. “Luke?”
No one had said his name in this house, and now it hung in the air between them. Did Luke exist anymore? Had he ever existed?
He cautiously turned, saw her dipping a cracker into the soup, but she was looking at him. “What is it?” he asked.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“No,” he said, stepping out onto the terrace. He heard her start to say something else, but he closed the door on it. He stood in the bone-chilling cold in his stocking feet, staring into nothingness, yet couldn’t get the image of Shay out of his mind. He didn’t want to have her cutting through the void around him and showing him how empty his life had become. He didn’t want anyone. And he didn’t want her touching him again.
SHAY WATCHED the door close behind Luke, and the idea she was in any danger from the man gradually eased and dissolved. She still caught that look on Luke’s face that Roy had worn during the sessions, but now, she wasn’t so sure it was anger. It was more sadness. She had nothing to fear, she was sure.
Luke had shown her kindness, even if it had been grudging, offering to take her into town, drying her clothes, letting her shower, carrying her when he must have realized how sore her feet were, and now giving her the hot soup. Other than his abrupt attitude, he hadn’t done a thing to make her think he might hurt her. No, she wasn’t afraid of him at all. She finished the cracker and ate more soup, welcoming the heat slipping down her throat.
By the time she finished the food and sat back, Luke still hadn’t come back. But as she reached for her coffee, one of the back doors opened. Luke didn’t say a thing as he crossed the room and returned a few minutes later holding a steaming mug of coffee. “Do you want more?” he asked, nodding at the empty soup bowl.
“No, thanks, but it was good.” She sipped a bit of her coffee, but never looked away from Luke.
He crossed to a chair over by the doors and sat down, shifting to rest his right ankle on his left knee. He tugged off his sock, tossed it on the floor by him, then took off the other one. He kept his gaze down, as if studying the steaming liquid in his cup.
“I really want to thank you for doing this for me,” she said.
He glanced up, his eyes shaded by partially lowered lids. “Sure.”
“You’re a man of few words, aren’t you?” she asked as she curled her legs under her.
“I speak when I have something to say,” he murmured and took a sip of his coffee.
She was taken aback to see his hand that held the mug was unsteady. She wondered if it was from the chill outside. He didn’t say anything else, but stared into the coffee. Graham had been a talker. She had always teased him that he could have had a conversation with a doorknob, but she was sure even Graham couldn’t get Luke to say more than a few words.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
“Wait.”
“Until?”
“The fog lifts and I walk into town.”
If the fog lingered, she would have a lot of time to figure out how to make contact with Mr. Evans.
She looked away from Luke to the room they were in. “You’ve lived on the estate for a while?”
“A while,” he echoed.
“Where did you come from?”
He rested his mug on his thigh and countered her question with his own. “Where did you come from?”
Okay, he was going to do it his way, and she went along with it since she was totally dependent on his generosity at the moment. And maybe if she spoke about mundane things, he’d let something slip about his boss.
“I was born in San Diego and lived there until I was eighteen. Then I moved to Houston, then Maine, spent a bit of time in San Francisco, then went back to San Diego again. Now I’m up here on a temporary assignment at the Sound Preservation Agency.”
He studied her. “Thanks for that rundown and insight, but I actually meant, where did you come from tonight?”
She thought he was making a joke and started to smile, but he was dead serious. “I told you, I’m a marine biologist at the agency. They’re having problems with the marine life dying with no apparent cause. I’ve done research on a bay for them at an extension near San Diego, and they asked me to visit for a couple of months to look into the problem here. Anyway, I was at work and decided to take a look up this way before I signed out for the day to check on a few things I’ve been uncertain about.”
“Alone?”
“I was about the only one left at the office.” She wouldn’t mention how she realized she was the only one there, the only one without someone to go home to. That she was heading back to the small hotel room where she’d stayed for the past month. Or that she was having trouble getting past today, past the anniversary, and in some way, being on the water seemed to help. She’d been a fool, and she’d been reckless when she shouldn’t have been.
“I didn’t have anywhere to go,” she said, giving a partial truth. “Then I saw the island and thought a trip over would be a good idea. I got lost in thought, and before I knew it, the fog was coming in, the motor quit and I couldn’t start it.”
He listened without comment now, sipped more coffee, then looked at her as if waiting for her to say something that might interest him. He wouldn’t want to hear about how she’d sat on the deck of the boat, wishing Graham were there, that he’d never died, that the life she’d thought two years ago that she’d have now hadn’t disappeared completely. “I called the coast guard, was waiting, turned and…I tripped. I fell over the railing and got caught in a current. I don’t remember much more, until you found me on the beach.”
She really was babbling now, and thankfully he spoke and stopped her. “You said you were alone on the boat?”
Very alone, she thought. “Yes. Most everyone else at the agency has been gone all week for the holidays.”
“Why weren’t you?” he asked, hitting the mark with his words.
She bit her lip, not at all comfortable telling this man so much about herself. Here she was, hoping to learn more about him and his boss, and she was practically spilling her life story. “I’m in Seattle temporarily, and celebrating just…” She shrugged, truly at a loss to explain how the holidays had come to mean little to her recently. “I had work to do, so I was doing it and ignoring the new year that’s coming.”
He sipped more coffee. “It’s overrated.”
“What is? Celebrating?”
“No, the concept of a new year making everything fresh.”
There weren’t any Christmas decorations in this space or anywhere she’d looked around the house. “So, I guess that means you ignore the holidays?”
He studied her, then said more at one time than he’d said since he’d found her on the beach. “A new year is just a new year. Nothing changes. There’s no magic at midnight. It’s just time passing the way it always does. People tend to make a hell of a lot more out of it than makes sense to me.”
There was little emotion in his voice, yet his words made her almost shiver. She more or less agreed with him, not just at the new year, but day in and day out. Time passed. Life went on. Things didn’t change. But hearing it from him filled her with a sharp sadness. “You’re here alone?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“No family?”
“No. How about your family? Are they here?”
She felt herself sinking back, putting an arm around her middle and pressing hard across her stomach. Family? She hadn’t had family since Graham. With Luke asking her about family, it drove home that family for her didn’t exist and wouldn’t again. “No,” she said, adopting his less-than-chatty attitude.
“No one’s looking for you?”
The pain stabbed at her again. The man was suddenly making her feel more alone than she had for a long time. “No one will until someone shows up at the center, finds the boat gone and sees that I put in the security code to get the keys for it.”
“When’s that?”
“I guess after New Year’s, maybe a day or so after.”
Luke studied her and, for a moment, he frowned as his eyes flicked to the simple gold band she still wore on her left hand. “What about your husband?”
She covered the ring with her other hand and found herself biting her lip so hard she was surprised she wasn’t tasting blood in her mouth. “He…” She cleared her throat. “He’s gone.”
Luke didn’t push. She didn’t have to say the words she hated, but she did, as if voicing them to this stranger would make them more real somehow. “He’s dead.” She looked down, easing her grip on her hand.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice.
She didn’t want his sympathy or really to think about Graham right then, so she thanked him and changed the subject. “I wonder if the coast guard was able to find the boat.”
He nodded toward another phone on the table by the tray that had held her food. “Call 911 again, and find out. Maybe you should tell them you aren’t going to make it to the police tonight, either.”
She reached for the receiver and once she was transferred to the coast guard, dialed extension twenty-three. Another man said they’d picked up the GPS signal from Shay’s boat and they’d have it within the hour. The problem was they would have to impound the boat at their facility in Seattle for two working days. She just had to come in, show the ownership papers and pay the fees.
She hung up and muttered, “Just great,” as she sank back on the couch.
“What’s wrong?” Luke asked.
“They’re impounding the boat when they get to it, and I’ll have to pay to ransom it.”
He didn’t respond to that, but stood abruptly and came to collect her dishes. He took them out to the kitchen, and she heard running water, then the clank of china on china.
Money was tight, but she could manage the fines or fees or whatever they’d call them. The agency might be upset, but then again, she was a temporary employee. The worst they could do was cut short her contract and she’d go back to San Diego.
Luke came back, but didn’t enter the room fully. “You can have the bed in the guest room. There’s plenty of blankets in the closet.”
She scrambled to her feet. “Oh, no, I can sleep on the couch, right here. No problem.”
“There’s no heat going—the furnace was never turned on, and it can get cold in there.”
“What about a fire? I’m great at building one.”
He glanced at the empty hearth, then back at her. “Not overnight.”
“Where do you sleep?” she asked.
