was touched to realize that he was listening for every move that was made within the house. He meant to protect her.
“You must be bored silly, waiting around all day for me to wake up.”
“You did sleep in,” he commented dryly.
She grinned. “Sorry.” She wandered into the kitchen. It was noon, but it felt like morning. She needed coffee. High-test coffee. Sleeping late hadn’t made her bound right out of bed. She felt as gray and misted-over as the day.
“You know,” she called to Jem, “it
She broke off, because he suddenly lifted a hand, pointing toward the door.
She stared. The knob was turning, being tested.
“Jem…”
He stood, lifted a finger to his lips and mouthed, “It’s locked.” He motioned her to move out of the way. She did so, flattening herself against the wall as he strode to the door and flung it open.
He stood dead still. His shoulders slumped.
“Jem?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “No one there. I could have sworn I saw…” He shrugged again. “I’m going out.”
“In this rain?”
“It’s a trickle now.”
“Jem, don’t—”
But he was already gone.
Yancy sat in front of the fireplace in the bar. The fire was blazing beautifully. The rain hadn’t actually made the day cold, but the fire took the dampness away.
Adam had lit it for her when he’d come in this morning. Despite the fact that the majority of the guests would sleep in and have something to eat in their own cottages, Yancy had been down early to set out the buffet. Breakfast in the main house happened even if the staff were the only people on the island.
Jacques had come down to cook, then retired. Adam had built the fire, gone for coffee and an egg sandwich and disappeared into Justin Carlyle’s old office.
Lots of guests liked the office. Justin had collected all sorts of books about the ocean, books on shipwrecks, diving, wind patterns, geography, natural phenomena, the Devil’s Triangle and more. He kept a beautiful antique globe in his office, and deep comfortable leather chairs. It was a natural enough place for guests to go.
The fire snapped and crackled. She suddenly had the strange feeling that someone was behind her. For a moment she froze, feeling as if the damp, gray mist of the stormy day held something mysterious. As if sodden ghosts could rise from the sea and swirl into the dampness of the day to face her there in the bar. She jumped up defensively, turning around.
She was alone.
Uneasy, she left the room. The registration area and parlor were joined to the dining area and bar by symmetrical doors. She passed through the dining area and down the opposite hall, toward the door to Justin’s office.
Adam O’Connor was there, his handsome dark head bent over a journal. He heard her, though, and looked up. “Hi, Yancy.”
“Hi. Need anything?”
He shook his head. “I’m fine.” He leaned back. “Have you seen any other guests this morning?”
“Avery Smith had coffee, then left.”
“Bad weather for an elderly gentleman,” Adam commented.
Yancy shrugged, then heard Lillie calling her name from upstairs. Lillie had stayed over because of the dinner party. She’d been happy to play with the baby all morning, since she couldn’t get into the cottages to clean with everyone sleeping in.
“Why don’t you get some coffee and join me for a while?” Adam suggested.
“I…” Yancy hesitated. Not this morning. Lillie must be calling her because she needed a break from baby Brian.
And something more than he was telling them had brought Adam here, Yancy thought. She didn’t understand it yet, but she was certain Adam was going to want an explanation for Brian as soon as he knew of the child’s existence.
She bit her lip.
He would see Brian eventually. She would just put that moment off as long as she could. She wasn’t emotionally prepared to explain Brian to him this morning.
“Maybe I’ll join you soon,” she said. “I’ve got a few things to see to upstairs.”
“Okay.”
She turned to leave, then paused and told him honestly, “It’s really good to see you again, Adam.”
He smiled. “Thanks, Yancy. Thanks a lot. It’s good to see you, too.”
She nodded. There was more to say, but it wasn’t time yet. She smiled, waved and left him to the journal.
Great. Jem had left her. If there was one thing Sam had learned from her father’s love of the old black-and- white horror flicks, it was that you never left the girl alone.
Never mind the fact that the girl was a screaming idiot who would watch bony fingers reach for her or a hatchet fall and not even make a move to get away. You weren’t supposed to leave the girl alone.
She stepped onto the porch. It wasn’t exactly raining, but the moisture in the air was so heavy it seemed that the entire island was blanketed in fog. It wasn’t an unusual weather pattern here. Most of the time the sun was shining and the weather was beautiful. A storm came, it got gray, it rained—and the next day, the sun came back.
She wished it was the next day.
“Jem?” she called.
She’d just made another mistake. The stupid girl always left behind a place of safety and walked right out where she would be most vulnerable.
What to do? Turn around and walk into the cottage? What if her attacker had slipped in behind her back and was now waiting for her to return to what she hoped would be safety, where she would lock herself in with the danger?
“You’re taking to flights of fancy, Samantha Carlyle!” she murmured out loud. “It’s this island living. Surely I wouldn’t be quite so influenced by Mr. Adam O’Connor if there was a normal amount of healthy young males in my life. Not that men don’t come here. They just come and go so quickly. Never a chance to get to know them. Never a chance to ask pertinent questions, like you are in good health, right? The men I do know are like relatives. Jem is like a brother, and where the hell are you, Jem! Jem!” She screamed his name.
Then she spun around, hearing a rustling in the hibiscus bush flanking the cottage to her left. She opened her mouth to scream. Something—someone—large, very large, was coming out from behind the bush.
“Oh, my—Jem!”
He stood up, pressing his palm to his forehead. A small trickle of blood ran down from his scalp.
“My God, Jem, what happened? If someone hurt you, he’ll pay. I’ll—”
“Sam, I’m supposed to be protecting you, remember? And besides, there was no one out here. I ran into the privacy fence around your bathroom while I was trying to be quiet and sneaky,” he said ruefully.
She stood back, frowning. “But you’re hurt.”
“It’s just a scratch. I’ll wash it off. If you want to go over to the main house, I’ll walk you over, then go to my own cottage and get some sleep.”
She smiled, got him a clean washcloth with ice to hold against the bump and quickly changed into jeans and a T-shirt. They started to walk to the main house together. Jem paused as they left her cottage behind, studying the ground by the bushes.
“What’s the matter?”
“Look at all these footprints,” he said. “Some of them are mine, and some are probably yours,” he added with
