do I,” Elizabeth said kindly.
“We’ve got an awesome crew this season.” Jason shifted the weight of her duffel as he approached the front door of the house. “Brent Masterson is here, filming some footage for his documentary. Taryn Evans is one of the most enthusiastic interns I’ve ever met. And although Dr. Fitzwilliam had to back out at the last minute, his replacement is a name I’m sure you’ll recognize. We’ve snagged the leading shark expert in the Western Hemisphere—”
Daniela’s stomach dropped as soon as he opened the door. For, standing behind it was a man she recognized very well, indeed. The leading shark expert of the Western Hemisphere had his hands all over a gorgeous blonde, laughing as he tried to wrestle her to the ground.
“—Sean Carmichael,” Jason finished, gazing upon Daniela’s ex-husband with hero-worship in his eyes.
Chapter 2
Sean disentangled himself from the young woman quickly, his face going slack. The football the pair had been grappling over dropped to the threadbare rug with a solid thud.
Still laughing, the girl picked it up off the floor and straightened, running a hand through her long, wavy hair.
Daniela hated her immediately.
“I’m Taryn,” the girl said, a dimple appearing in her sunny cheek.
“Daniela,” she murmured in response, managing a limp handshake. She felt bloodless, as though her spirit had been drained from her, sucked out by the island wind and taken far away, across the turbulent sea.
Why was Sean here? He was supposed to be in Baja California. She’d checked.
An uncomfortable silence, punctuated by the ticking of a clock on the far wall, seemed to stretch out into an eternity. Jason looked back and forth between Daniela and Sean, puzzled by the tension in the room. “Do you two know each other?”
Sean recovered first. He’d always been quick on his feet. “She’s my ex-wife,” he said, explaining their relationship in the same tone he’d have used to mention a vague professional connection. He gave her a polite nod. “Hello, Daniela.”
Although it took an effort, she inclined her head, acknowledging him in the same detached manner. “Sean.”
Taryn nibbled on her lush lower lip, as if trying to figure out if Daniela’s presence meant her fun and games with Sean were over.
Jason also seemed to be considering the ramifications. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes,” Sean said.
“No,” said Daniela at the same time.
Jason frowned. “She doesn’t have a restraining order against you or anything, does she?”
Sean shot him a dark look, insulted by the suggestion that a woman would require protection from him. “Of course not.”
Accepting the answer without question, Jason turned his attention back to Daniela, a hint of regret in his eyes. Being a lowly seal researcher, rather than a leading shark expert, she was the more dispensable of the two.
Her mood plummeted. She didn’t need a weather diagram to know which way the wind blew on Farallon Island. Sean was a superstar in this field, and his unscheduled visit here was a coup. Compared to him, she was nobody. Jason Ruiz wouldn’t care how pretty she was if Sean wanted her gone.
She forced herself to meet Sean’s eyes. “Can we talk outside?”
“Sure,” he muttered, grabbing a jacket off the dilapidated couch in the living room. On his way out, he exchanged a glance with Taryn, conveying a silent, intimate message that cut Daniela to the quick.
Taryn watched them depart with undisguised interest.
Daniela walked about a dozen steps from the house and stopped, hugging her arms around her body. Because the island was covered by sharp rocks, kamikaze seagulls and 5,000-pound elephant seals, it was no place to take a leisurely stroll.
At least the wind would make their conversation impossible to overhear. It blew her hair in every direction, whipping the shoulder-length strands against her cheeks.
She stared out at the horizon, collecting her thoughts. Although she disliked being at Sean’s mercy, she’d have to suck it up and make nice. There was so much riding on this project. Her career, the cause…her peace of mind, even. In a way, she’d come here to find herself.
She’d been lost for so long.
Spending time on a deserted island with her ex-husband wasn’t going to be easy, but she was a survivor. She’d lived through worse than this. Compared to some of the other challenges she’d faced in her life, his presence was a minor roadblock.
They’d been married for more than five years; surely they could put up with each other for a few short weeks.
“You look good,” he said, after a long moment.
Surprised by the compliment, she turned to face him.
“Your hair is longer,” he added unnecessarily. “And you seem…” His gaze dropped to her breasts, which were impossible to hide, even in a boxy windbreaker. “Healthier,” he muttered, a flush creeping up his neck.
If he meant to flatter her, he was off base. After the accident, she’d cropped her hair short, and in the following year she’d lost a lot of weight. She’d overheard him telling his best friend that she resembled a scrawny boy.
One careless remark, never discussed, never repeated, but it had damaged their already strained relationship. The last thing she needed was a reminder that he liked long, luscious hair and generous curves.
Sexist pig.
He was looking a bit rawboned himself, but she didn’t say that. Lean or not, he was the picture of health. Shedding a few pounds only made his shoulders appear broader and his face more angular. Underneath his clothes, she knew he would be perfectly cut, all lovely muscles etched into sun-bronzed flesh.
Beautiful bastard.
His hair was longer, too, curling at the edge of his collar, as if he’d been too busy to have it trimmed. He hadn’t bothered to shave in a few days, either. His whiskers appeared thicker than ever, but she knew from experience that they would feel soft to the touch. Her fingertips tingled at the memory of exploring his stubbly jaw and hard mouth. Both were deceptively rough-looking.
She resisted the absurd longing to lift her hand to his face. “I need this,” she said in a low voice.
Sean shook his head. “You don’t belong here, Dani. It’s too harsh, too volatile. You’re…not equipped.”
“That isn’t fair,” she said. “You haven’t even seen me since—”
“When’s the last time you had an anxiety attack?” he interrupted.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she studied the horizon instead of him. Breathe, she reminded herself. Just breathe.
“A
