was kind of ridiculous that she was more jittery living here on this nice, homey little island than she’d ever been in Chicago. Perhaps it was because she just wasn’t cut out to be a loner. Her new home stood on a jut of land that was at least a mile from the closest neighbor. Other than the skree of insects and the lapping of the waves on the nearby shore, she lived in near silence.
It grated on her nerves. She was used to traffic and shouting, to carryout, taxis, commuter trains, fast food and crowds. Not this. Not absolute quiet that, when interrupted by a knock on the door at night, seemed ominous and dangerous.
But what if it’s your friendly island cop paying a call?
On one hand, that could be nice. She trusted Mike. Though she had no idea why he’d show up at her door at this time of night, she wasn’t the least bit frightened of that possibility.
On the other hand, if it were Mike’s obnoxious coworker, Officer Ollie, she should definitely worry.
She’d seen the man in a few places this past week, and each time she’d gone out of her way to avoid coming face-to-face with him. Still, she’d caught his eyes on her—once in the grocery store, once in the diner. He’d tried smiling, and, when she didn’t respond, had ended up narrow-eyed and angry.
Angry enough to come down here and harass me?
God, she hoped not. She had packed away her big penis-weapon in a box which was now buried in the back of her closet, so she couldn’t beat him up with that.
Another knock. Still clutching the phone, she tightly tied the sash of her robe and crossed through the bedroom and the living room to the front door.
“Who is it?” she asked, not so much as lifting a hand to undo the dead bolt.
“Lindsey, it’s Mike. I need to talk to you.”
Relief flooding through her, she dropped the phone onto the foyer table, unlocked the door and pulled it open. “You scared me.”
He offered her a half smile. “This isn’t Chicago. There hasn’t been a home invasion on Wild Boar for as long as anybody can remember.”
“I know. It’s just, the quietness is eerie. I certainly wasn’t expecting somebody to knock on my door. Why did you?”
“Can I come in and explain?”
Stepping back, she gestured toward the living room. As he entered, the room seemed to shrink around him, so big was his presence.
“I see you still haven’t found a permanent place for your books,” he said, nodding toward the back corner of the room, where the cartons were piled neatly against the wall.
“I won’t be here that long. I figured I could just dig out the ones I want, as I want them.”
He crossed his arms, leaning against the back of a tall armchair. “What about your other...package. Have you pulled out anything you wanted from that?”
The air seemed to have been sucked out of her lungs. Her mouth went dry, and she couldn’t make it work to form words.
Had he really come here to talk about the sexy things that had fallen out of that box the last time they’d been together in this room? And if so, to what end?
“No, I packed it up and buried it in the bottom of my closet. It was delivered here by mistake,” she admitted. “Though I was just thinking that if Officer Ollie was at my door, I might wish I had my giant rubber club handy.”
He grinned. “I don’t imagine he’d have even recognized it. Bullies are dickless, as a rule.”
Not inside more than ninety seconds and they were already talking about sex organs. Her famous control over every personal situation had slipped away as easily as water through her fingers. That was par for the course lately, considering her professional life had slipped beyond her control, too.
Of the two, she had to admit that, right here and now, the personal one bothered her more. This man did have a knack for keeping her off guard. She wasn’t used to it and didn’t like it— possibly because she feared he could make her like it too much!
“Why are you here?” she finally managed to ask.
“I really am curious about that box of yours.”
His husky voice and gleaming eyes made her heart flutter. Her pulse sped up, and her whole body went on alert. Her legs quivered and she wrapped the robe tighter around herself, suddenly feeling way too vulnerable.
She wasn’t scared of Mike. She was, however, scared of how quickly he made her forget all her resolutions to avoid any entanglements, especially entanglements with a man she feared she would dream about long after the hot sex was over.
“Why?”
“I’m wondering if you’re missing anything out of it.”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small book. She eyed it, recognizing the jade-green binding, and, of course, the art on the cover. Her mouth falling open, she looked from it, to him to her laptop case, which was on the coffee table. Hurrying over, she yanked it open and peered inside.
No book.
“It’s possible it fell out when you dropped that case in the parking lot yesterday afternoon.”
He was probably right.
God. Of course she couldn’t have dropped her keys, or a wallet or some sunglasses. No. It had to be a book nobody on this island had probably ever heard of, much less read.
Except Mike. Judging by the confident gleam in his eyes, she suspected he was aware of exactly what the book contained, and had been even before this particular copy had landed in his hands.
He was bluntly sexual, so confident, so self-assured. He would not be pushed around when it came to sex. He would try new things, explore all possibilities and not be shocked by anything as simple as some graphic illustrations.
He wouldn’t be told what to do. And when things grew too emotionally intense for her own comfort level, he wouldn’t back off simply because she demanded it.
He won’t just give you some orgasms and then leave right away because you don’t like sleeping with someone else in the room.
A leftover instinct from childhood. As a kid, she’d never been sure when she closed her eyes if she would wake up and find herself totally alone in their crappy apartment. Her parents had sometimes decided to go out and party, leaving her, even as young as age six, completely on her own.
As she got older, she preferred it when they left her alone and she tucked herself in. Going to bed knowing nobody would be there if she woke up during the night was much better than worrying and wondering about it.
Huh. A psychologist might speculate that was why she’d never slept an entire night in bed with a man in her whole life.
She forced all those ugly memories away. Callie had been telling her for a long time that she couldn’t let her shitty past determine how she conducted herself in the present, or in the future. But putting herself—her body, her
