seagulls, she felt twelve years old again. She felt the sucking power of the waves on her life jacket, heard Glenda—just a bit younger and terrified, bobbing in her orange life jacket and reaching out to her for help. By habit, Maggie’s hand clasped Glenda’s locket, all that she had left of her sister. Now she had only Scout, who was racing happily across the sand. She had to save her….
Nick watched Maggie tear down the slope of sand dunes and grass, falling and sliding in her panic to reach her dog. With her ponytail sticking from the back of her ball cap, her body in flight, she looked more like a boy than a woman.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. Oh, she was a woman, all right. One look at those dark green eyes and that bit of a nose and that generous mouth, and his nose was sniffing for female pheromones, his body tight.
He picked up the shovel, put his foot on it to dig, andchanged his mind; he couldn’t resist following Maggie. Since she was already furious with him, he might as well go all out.
On the wide expanse of brown sand, she looked small, crouching to hug her dog. Nick walked slowly to her, appreciated Scout’s welcoming bark, and ignored Maggie’s frosty look. “Go away.”
Nick sat near her and scanned the white sails of a small ship headed for Blanchefleur’s harbor, putting in for the night. The ship was small and light, a classic wood frame, well tended, a fast-runner, just like the woman with fear written all over her face.
“You’re on the run. Why?”
Maggie’s quick, blank look, her ponytail feathered by the light wind as she whipped to stare at him with that flash of anger, said he’d struck truth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about and you ask too many questions. Now leave me alone.”
Nick was already wading in deep, murky problems she didn’t want disturbed—and he wanted to help. “She can swim, you know. Probably better than you. The water is smooth. Let her go. She needs this, Maggie. She’s bred for water, and you’re holding her from what nature gave her.”
She continued to hold Scout close, staring grimly at the water as if it were her personal devil. “Shut up.”
Nick slid a cool look at her; Maggie wasn’t only furious, she was stark white, fighting panic. That quick swallow, her fingers digging into the dog’s coat told him everything—she loved the dog desperately, as if the animal were her only friend. “What did you come here to tell me?”
“I came to tell you that you can butt out of my life. I’m not a charity case, and I could have paid for my meal and the room. Now everyone in town knows that—”
“So you’re moving on, afraid to face a little gossip?”
Those witch’s eyes cut at him and narrowed. “I’ve had worse.”
He wanted to hold that hair in his fist, to feel the life and thick silk in his grasp, the sunlight catching the red highlights and coursing down the strands to flick fire at the ends.
Her chin went out, those eyes dark emerald and gold now, striking at him. “I’ve got work. I’ll be around awhile, and you’re not in the picture. Half the town thinks I’m already your girlfriend and the other half—your relatives are telling me all about what a great guy you are, a real marriage prospect.”
Nick couldn’t stop his grin; he was used to family and friends touting potential girlfriends to him. “They mean well, Maggie.”
“Leave…me…alone,” she ordered tightly.
“Lady, I didn’t come to see you . You’re the one who turned up here, all full of spit and fire. I’ll bet you get plenty of clients with that friendly attitude.”
Scout squirmed and whined in Maggie’s grip. “I do okay.”
He reached to brush a bit of sand from her cheek, and her skin was smooth beneath his fingertips. She stiffened and he jerked his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
Nick knew her walls were up, pasted with big flashing warning signs. She’d been hurt badly, and by a man. “Let the dog go,
Nick watched Maggie tear down the slope of sand dunes and grass, falling and sliding in her panic to reach her dog. With her ponytail sticking from the back of her ball cap, her body in flight, she looked more like a boy than a woman.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. Oh, she was a woman, all right. One look at those dark green eyes and that bit of a nose and that generous mouth, and his nose was sniffing for female pheromones, his body tight.
He picked up the shovel, put his foot on it to dig, andchanged his mind; he couldn’t resist following Maggie. Since she was already furious with him, he might as well go all out.
On the wide expanse of brown sand, she looked small, crouching to hug her dog. Nick walked slowly to her, appreciated Scout’s welcoming bark, and ignored Maggie’s frosty look. “Go away.”
Nick sat near her and scanned the white sails of a small ship headed for Blanchefleur’s harbor, putting in for the night. The ship was small and light, a classic wood frame, well tended, a fast-runner, just like the woman with fear written all over her face.
“You’re on the run. Why?”
Maggie’s quick, blank look, her ponytail feathered by the light wind as she whipped to stare at him with that flash of anger, said he’d struck truth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about and you ask too many questions. Now leave me alone.”
Nick was already wading in deep, murky problems she didn’t want disturbed—and he wanted to help. “She can swim, you know. Probably better than you. The water is smooth. Let her go. She needs this, Maggie. She’s bred for water, and you’re holding her from what nature gave her.”
She continued to hold Scout close, staring grimly at the water as if it were her personal devil. “Shut up.”
Nick slid a cool look at her; Maggie wasn’t only furious, she was stark white, fighting panic. That quick swallow, her fingers digging into the dog’s coat told him everything—she loved the dog desperately, as if the animal were her only friend. “What did you come here to tell me?”
“I came to tell you that you can butt out of my life. I’m not a charity case, and I could have paid for my meal and the room. Now everyone in town knows that—”
“So you’re moving on, afraid to face a little gossip?”
Those witch’s eyes cut at him and narrowed. “I’ve had worse.”
He wanted to hold that hair in his fist, to feel the life and thick silk in his grasp, the sunlight catching the red highlights and coursing down the strands to flick fire at the ends.
Her chin went out, those eyes dark emerald and gold now, striking at him. “I’ve got work. I’ll be around awhile, and you’re not in the picture. Half the town thinks I’m already your girlfriend and the other half—your relatives are telling me all about what a great guy you are, a real marriage prospect.”
Nick couldn’t stop his grin; he was used to family and friends touting potential girlfriends to him. “They mean well, Maggie.”
“Leave…me…alone,” she ordered tightly.
“Lady, I didn’t come to see you . You’re the one who turned up here, all full of spit and fire. I’ll bet you get plenty of clients with that friendly attitude.”
Scout squirmed and whined in Maggie’s grip. “I do okay.”
He reached to brush a bit of sand from her cheek, and her skin was smooth beneath his fingertips. She stiffened and he jerked his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
Nick knew her walls were up, pasted with big flashing warning signs. She’d been hurt badly, and by a man. “Let the dog go,
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