"Yes, yes, I'm okay. I'm fine."
His shoulders relaxed.
As she looked down at Nutmeg, everything prior to the fire came rushing back.Cassidy isn't here.
Where was she? A new cold dread snaked down her spine. She'd come all this way expecting to find her irresponsible cousin lounging and enjoying her island life with her wealthy, yet shady, boyfriend. She'd wanted to talk Cassidy into coming home before something happened. She didn't know what that something might be. She didn't expect tonotfind her. She needed to talk to Delphine again.
She realized the stranger was staring at her.
He stepped toward her. "Hey, I'm Nash." He nodded toward the charred pier. "Thanks for your help."
"Oh, sure. Well, I didn't do much. Thank you for swimming out to the boy. You saved his life. That was . . ." Why did she feel her cheeks warming? She was just thanking the handsome man for saving a kid's life.
She ever-so-eloquently cleared her throat, shifted Nutmeg into the crook of her left arm, and extended her right hand to Nash. "I'm Lena."
His handshake was warm and firm . . . and made her breath catch for some reason. But his earlier concern hadn't quite left his gaze. "I'm Mr. Van Horn's driver," hesaid. "And you are . . ." And there it was—the suspicion in his voice. She needed to be careful.
"I'm . . ." She lifted Nutmeg a couple of inches as if Nutmeg's presence was necessary for her explanation. "I'm the dog-sitter. I'm taking care of Nutmeg—Victoria Van Horn's dog—while she's in Europe for a couple of weeks."
Recognition flashed on his face. "Yeah. Lena. Right. Delphine told me you were arriving today."
"Um, so who's Dek? Is he the kids' dad?"
Tempered anger flashed in his eyes. "No. He's their uncle. Their family owns the landscaping business that tends this whole estate. I've only been here a few days. I met them for the first time a couple of days ago. The grandmother actually owns the business. She and the parents are usually here working and keeping a close eye on the kids. Nice people. But Dek . . ." He shook his head in disgust.
"Not a responsible fellow?"
Nash shrugged. "Like I said, I've only been here a few days, but he didn't make a good first impression on me." He picked up his shoes from where he'd tossed them in the sand. "I'll make sure the family knows what happened today."
"So, you're new here too?"
"I was hired a few days ago." He stuck his shoes under one arm and used his two free hands to pick up the discarded fire extinguishers. "Sorry I wasn't able to pick you up at the airport. I was driving Mr. Van Horn to the marina this afternoon. But Delphine said she was sending a taxi to pick you up. I guess that worked out."
Lena froze at the mention of Mr. Van Horn's name.Emil. She hadn't had time to come up with Plan B, but she needed to stick around long enough to confront Emil. It might not go well, but at least she could see his face when she asked where Cassidy was.
She tried to sound casual. "Mr. Van Horn is at the marina? Will he be coming back to the house this evening?"
The suspicion returned.
She must not have sounded casual enough.
He cocked his head. "Probably not. He has a large yacht at the marina. He stays there sometimes. But you're working for his aunt, Victoria, correct?"
"Yes, Nutmeg belongs to his aunt."
His eyes narrowed. "Did you need to speak to Mr. Van Horn for any reason?"
"Not necessarily," she answered quickly. "I just assumed I would meet him since he's the only Van Horn living at the house while I'm here."
Nash seemed to find her explanation at least somewhat reasonable. "Well, I'm sure you'll meet him, eventually. Like I said, he stays at his yacht often, but he'll return to the house soon."
She wanted to ask how soon was "soon." But that was probably pushing it. She could wait until tomorrow. But if Emil wasn't back in twenty-four hours, she would confront him on his yacht, or wherever he was. Assuming the handsome, firefighting, child-rescuing chauffeur would drive her to him.
Concern returned to the driver's gaze. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm . . . I'm just exhausted. Traveling today, then . . ." She waved a hand toward the charred remains of the pier. "I should get Nutmeg back to the house." Nutmeg licked her chin in response. She was glad he didn't seem as traumatized as she felt at the moment. She stroked his furry head, then forced the most innocent smile she could manage and waved goodbye to Nash. "It was nice to meet you, Nash."
"Nice to meet you, Lena." He returned a polite smile, but his wariness was palpable.
