He kept studying her. She didn’t drop her lashes, and she didn’t look away. How the hell did he know he should trust her, and yet realize that everything about her was wrong?
His gaze turned suspicious. “You’re really taking care of him properly? And all his medications are correct?”
“Yes.”
“Want to tell me anything else?” he asked her.
She was acutely aware then that they were alone on an island—winter-barren, surrounded by a frigid sea—and that the wind and the gulls were the only witnesses to whatever occurred between them. She was also aware of him as a vital, living, breathing man, the heat of his energy almost palpable even against the chill of the air and sea.
His eyes probed into hers, aqua and hard. Sharp. They seemed to cut like a knife.
“I have nothing to tell you,” she said flatly, returning his stare.
“Don’t betray my trust,” he said.
“What trust?” she asked, a note of bitterness in her tone.
“I’m amazed that you even dare to ask.”
She looked out toward the boat. “I swear to you that I am here to keep Sean O’Riley alive and well, and see to it that he lives for years to come.”
She looked back at him. His gaze hadn’t relented, and she hesitated when he reached for her hand.
“I’m just going to help you back into the dinghy,” he told her.
She felt foolish, and offered him her hand.
He was silent as he rowed back, then balanced easily in the little inflatable boat to help her back on the Sea Lass, before climbing aboard himself and dragging the dinghy up after him. He deflated it quickly, then restored the oars to their bin.
He didn’t head straight back to the helm, though. He found towels below and thoroughly dried the dinghy, then folded it back into its storage bin.
She was staring at him. He looked back at her and spoke curtly. “I don’t want anyone to know where we’ve been.”
“All right.”
“Grab some sodas from the galley, or a couple of beers. It has to look as if I was showing you the area,” he said.
“You did show me the area,” she told him.
He watched her for another moment, then nodded.
She started to pull two beers from the small refrigerator in the galley, then opted for sodas instead.
She was, after all, a nurse. She was going back to take care of a patient. She shouldn’t be drinking.
Apparently he had decided that he did trust her, at least a little bit, or maybe he’d finally noticed that she was freezing and had started to feel concerned for her welfare.
“You might want to sit in the cabin for a while. The sun’s going to start going down soon, so the ride back will be colder.”
“I’m all right,” she told him.
She wasn’t. She was just stubborn. But she sat on the bench just as she had on the journey out and waited for him to raise the anchor and rev up the engine.
The sea spray flew around them, liquid crystals in the air. He kept their speed high until he neared the channel markers, then slowed accordingly. When they neared the dock, he asked her to stand up and help with the tie ropes. She took them as ordered, but she had no idea how they were supposed to be knotted.
He didn’t expect her to. As soon as he had cut the motor and wedged the boat exactly where he wanted her against the dock, he jumped out himself and secured the knots. “I’ll teach you some of these as we go along,” he said absently, then flashed her a smile. “Next time we’re in a sailboat, we’ll actually sail. It’s fun. You’ll like it. You don’t seem to get seasick.”
“No, I guess I don’t get seasick,” she said.
He stood, having securely fastened the tie around the dock clamp, and stepped toward her, smiled, paused a moment, then moved a wild lock of her hair behind her ear. “You look pretty windblown,” he told her.
“I had a great time ‘seeing the area,’” she told him.
He slipped an arm around her, startling her, before she realized that Cal had come out of the office and was heading toward them. He was a tall man, sandy-haired, lanky and good-looking in a slightly awkward way; his arms were long, his hands large. He had large feet, too, and yet it all came together with a certain charm.
“How did you like your boat ride?” he asked.
“It was great. Although it was awfully cold. I’m not sure how you all stand it,” she said.
Cal smiled at her. “I have to say, you’ve got a great accent.”
“I think you have the accent,” she said, smiling back.
Enough flirting, however politely, Zach thought with uncharacteristic irritation. “We’ve got to get back to the house,” he said more sharply than he’d intended. “We’ve been gone a long time. Cal, if you think of anything, if you find anything, let me know right away.”
Cal nodded. “I’ve looked and looked around the office. I’ve studied that register a million times,” he said, and stared at Zach bleakly. “Eddie’s dead, isn’t he?”