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He snapped his paper open again and scowled at the articles written in Spanish. “Makes you wish for a copy
of the Observer, doesn’t it?”
Crash!
Glass shattered on the veranda.
Nikki jumped, sloshing hot coffee onto her hands and the table.
Trent kicked back his chair. “Stay back,” he ordered, his expression grim. On the balls of his feet, his muscles tense, his jaw tight, he said, “Stay back!” He threw open the French doors. A stiff morning breeze skated into the room, billowing the drapes and rustling the newspaper.
Despite his warning, Nikki inched forward and saw thousands of glass shards, the remains of a hurricane lantern, scattered over the decking.
Trent, seemingly oblivious to the glass and his bare feet, had run to the edge of the veranda, where he stood, surveying the grounds and nearby breadfruit trees, as if he expected a prowler to leap out at him.
He started to move, and she yelled, “Watch out or you’ll cut yourself.”
“I thought I told you to stay inside!”
“I don’t like being ordered around.”
“It’s for your own good.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Can you?” With a sharp glance over his shoulder, he raked his gaze up her body to land on the scrapes on her face.
Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin. “I may not know a lot about my past, but I’m sure that I was more than self-sufficient!”
The look he shot her spoke volumes.
“I don’t know why you’re so rattled, anyway,” she said, motioning toward the sparkling shards of glass. “It was just the wind.”
“Maybe.” Apparently satisfied that no one was lurking nearby, he bent over and began picking up the larger pieces of broken glass.
“You were expecting someone?” Nikki, too, gathered the chunks of sharp glass and dropped the jagged pieces into a trash can.
“No.” He shook his head, as if convincing himself.
“Then what is it you’re afraid of?” she asked.
“Afraid of?”
“You act like you expect someone to jump out at us.”
The lines around his mouth tightened a little. “I was startled, that’s all.” Angrily, he threw the last of the broken lantern into the metal trash can, and it clattered loud enough to wake the dead.
“You don’t strike me as someone who would startle easily. Come on, Trent, something’s going on. You want to get me off the island as soon as you can. You practically have me locked away in this hotel room. Every time I’m out alone, you act as if something awful is going to happen.”
He followed her into the hotel room and leaned a shoulder against the carved wood doorframe. Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared at her, his lips compressed, his eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were weighing a heavy decision. “You’ve already been hurt once and spent too much time in the hospital. I just don’t want to take any chances.”
“On another accident occurring?”
His lips thinned, and instinctively she backed up, steadying herself on the edge of the bureau. He still scared her a little, and yet she decided it was time for a showdown. She’d been walking a high wire with him, afraid that any misstep would send her plummeting into a black oblivion that she couldn’t escape. She couldn’t stand it a minute longer. “I get the feeling that you’re hiding something from me.”
“I’m not.”
“Liar.”
