The Island. Heather Graham
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She narrowed her eyes, staring at him hard. “Someone might have been killed here.”
“And you wouldn’t want to join them.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Good God, no. It’s a warning.”
“Right. And you should be trusted?”
“Actually, yes.”
She studied him long and hard. He was a man in the prime of his life, muscled and hard. She was suddenly certain that, if he had chosen, he could have wrenched the machete away from Brad without breaking a sweat.
To her discomfort, she also remembered the strength with which he had held her.
She spun around, striding for the trail.
He caught her arm, swinging her back. She didn’t open her mouth to protest, only narrowed her eyes at him in serious warning, arching her brows slowly as she gazed from his eyes to the place where his hand rested on her arm.
“I was serious. Keep your mouth shut.”
“You know something, so you’d better be planning on talking to the police,” she warned him.
“If I knew something, I wouldn’t need to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations.”
“I think we should call the police.”
“And tell them what?” he demanded.
She faltered. “That…that…”
“That there might have been a skull on the island? That a young couple was scrounging around, looking for something? So far, they haven’t done a thing that’s illegal. And so far, you haven’t got anything at all to tell the police. Guess what? You need to get your nose out of it. You need to keep your mouth shut and pretend that you haven’t seen a single thing on this island.”
“You are threatening me.”
“I’m not the threat!” he protested angrily. “But just maybe there is a threat out there.”
“Then we need to stop them. Now.”
“There’s this little thing called the law. You think you can just tie up Sandy and Brad and call the Coast Guard, and they’ll arrest them for acting in what you’ve decided is a suspicious manner?”
She felt herself flush. He was still holding her. She swallowed, strangely far more afraid now than she had been at any time before. Odd, it felt far too good, especially under the circumstances. She wanted to close her eyes. Lean against him. Let the moment go on. She loathed the concept of basic instinct, but she realized that she was feeling one right then. There was something so right about feeling his touch. She told herself it was just because she hadn’t so much as dated in a very long time, but inside she knew it was because she had simply never felt anything so right.
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