Page 42 of Halstead House

My stoic demeanor during cleanup didn’t invite conversation, and I was grateful to Eliza and the others for not pressing. The work was a good distraction, and I used it to my advantage. When the cleanup was done I grabbed a plate of leftovers as my dinner and went straight to my room.

Unfortunately, being alone in my room didn’t do the trick. By the time the sun began to set I was going stir crazy on top of my feelings of injustice and disappointment. I had slipped into full-on wallow mode and needed to break free.

The waves called to me from my open window. I answered by slipping into shorts and a tank top. I was grateful that I met no one on my way out of the house, nor did I see anyone on my way to the beach. The sand stretched farther than I could see, and it was empty. I was blissfully alone.

I kicked off my shoes and left them next to the stairs before I waded through the sea grass and onto the open sand. The soft breeze greeted me and cooled off my overheated skin. I stood still, facing the ocean, and closed my eyes as I took a slow, deep breath, filling my lungs until they felt like they would burst. I released the breath slowly and repeated the process a few times. I loved the feeling of the humid air flowing over my closed eyelids and making stray hairs tickle my ears. My chignon suddenly felt restrictive, so I reached back and took out the pins, shaking it free.

It didn’t take long to feel the hurt start to flow out of me. I’d read once that taking deep breaths turned off the primitive part of the brain and got the logical brain thinking again. While I liked to think I was more evolved than that, today had proven otherwise.

I opened my eyes and walked in the opposite direction of the city. Ana had said there were more private residences farther down this same stretch of beach, along with a few jetties sticking out into the ocean, but all I cared about was that it was the quiet side of the island. I got close enough to the water’s edge to have the waves cross over my feet as they glided back and forth across the sand.

The sky gradually grew darker until I noticed lights starting to blink on in the houses. It wasn’t full dark, but twilight. The sky was losing its blue color and fading to match the gray of the murky horizon. I kept walking. I wasn’t making good time, and that was fine. I occasionally paused to spread my toes and let water run between them. I dug my toes into the sand and wiggled them, all the while keeping my mind empty. There was something about water that was so serene and healing. I’d never realized it before, and I knew that I would miss this when I returned to my city life.

I had leisurely walked perhaps a mile and was getting ready to turn around when I heard the sounds of a boat pulling up next to a rocky jetty slightly ahead of me. The jetties were few and far between, so this was the first time I’d actually seen someone using one of them. Curious, I paused to watch. It was too dark to see details, but to my untrained eye the boat looked slick and neat, unlike other boats I’d seen on occasion in the area. Whoever they were, they had money. The driver expertly slid the boat into position next to the rock formation as the bright light on the front of the boat lit up the beach nearby. A man’s shape jumped agilely from boat to rock and then caught what looked to be fishing gear that was tossed his way.

I continued to watch as the man waved to the boat and made his way up the jetty to the beach. Something about the way he moved was so unashamedly masculine that it made my mouth curve into a small, toothless smile. As an observer I’d seen many men walking about, proclaiming who they were by the way they moved. I’d often wondered how much of it was show. With this man, who had no idea he was being watched, I knew it wasn’t show.

I startled as he turned my direction, his long strides eating up the ground between us. I doubted he’d noticed me yet, but I didn’t want to be caught staring. Nor did I want to have an awkward encounter on the beach with a stranger in the dark. I glanced around, seeking cover. There weren’t many options on the wide open sand, but I thought if I headed toward the houses that maybe he’d think I was one of the residents heading home and not give me a second look. Unless I happened to choose his house. Oh, good grief. There was nothing for it but to make a choice and hope for the best.

I spun on my heel and began walking toward the closest home behind me. I kept my head down and let my hair cover the sides of my face. The plan was solid, until I felt a sharp slicing pain across the bottom of my bare foot. I let out an involuntary exclamation and reached down to check the damage. I couldn’t see well, but my hand met something warm and oozing. Blood.

I sat directly down on the sand and pulled my foot toward me to try and examine the wound, but it was too dark. I shifted around until my foot was lit slightly by the moonlight shining, and squinted my eyes, hoping that would help.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” a male voice behind me asked.

Shoot, shoot, double shoot. The man. I kept my head down. “I must have stepped on something, but it’s fine. I’m almost home,” I lied.

A flashlight suddenly shone on my foot, revealing a neat slice that was about two inches long. It didn’t look terribly deep, but it stung like the dickens and was bleeding more than I’d have liked to see. A broken bottle shimmered in the same light near where I was sitting. Ah, so that was the culprit. Stinking litterers.

The flashlight moved to my head. “Grace?”

My eyes shot up to meet the rarely readable eyes of Lucas Halstead. I wondered how many women—heck, people—had spent their time trying to decipher what went on in his steel-trap mind. I didn’t envy those who met him in a boardroom.

I didn’t respond verbally, just nodded and blushed. Fantastic.

“You’renotalmost home,” he stated.

I swallowed hard and scrambled to think of something while looking innocent.Think sheep, think sheep, I chanted before saying, “Oh, I meant almost toahome. I was going to visit a friend in this house here.” I pointed to the house I’d been heading for. Let him think I was a social butterfly making friends all over the island.

He raised his eyebrows. “That dark house that’s closed down while the owners spend the warmer months up north?”

Nervous, totally humiliated laughter tickled in my chest. Still, I played it cool. “I think they leave next week.” I nodded as though what he’d said didn’t throw me a bit.

He blinked, slowly and suspiciously, before shaking his head. That motion called me out on my lie without actually saying anything, and we both knew it.

I sighed and owned up. “The truth is I didn’t know it was you and I was just trying to avoid running into a strange man on the beach at night.”

His flashlight beam moved back to my foot. “It doesn’t look too bad. Hard to tell for sure, though, in the dark.”

“I think it’s fine. I’ll just finish what I was doing here and head back soon.” I tried to smile up at him, but my lips seemed to have frozen in place, and a drop of blood landed on my thigh where my foot was resting on it. His eyes followed the trail of blood before looking back to me.

“On second thought, there’s a chance you’ll need stitches. You’ll have to break into that empty neighbor’s home another night.” His eyes sparked, but in the falling darkness I couldn’t read if he was teasing me or being an A-class jerk.

I felt completely mortified, and him calling my bluff was the worst. I’d never, ever found myself in this type of situation. I was known in my world as intelligent and level-headed. I had no idea how to respond, so I said nothing, just sat there holding my foot and looking anywhere but at him.

He puffed out a breath that seemed full of words he wasn’t saying. “I have some first aid supplies in my tackle box.”

He set down the box he’d been carrying and clicked the lid open. His flashlight moved from my foot to the inside of the ridiculously tidy box. I wished it would’ve been a mess—you know, even the playing field somehow, but no dice. It was as flawless as could be.

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