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She nodded, knowing that the only things on the uninhabited rocky outcrop a mile off the coast were the native tough sheep who, it had been explained, were ferried out there each breeding season and brought back after lambing.

‘The damage is concentrated on the east coast.’

She released another little gusty sigh. It was another area where the rugged terrain meant there were no settlements.

‘There was a landslip so the coast road is blocked, which is causing some problems. As far as I can tell from reports, the damage to outlying areas is minimal and, though there have been a few minor injuries, nothing significant so far. Except, of course, I’m sure it feels significant for the people involved. I need to get to Mentsa. The emergency services are coping but there is some panic. The church tower there has fallen.

‘We’re still assessing the airport, but the helicopter that dropped Carl off has already taken my parents to the mainland, and a few essential—’

At the mention of his parents, she shook her head.

‘I get it,’ she said, struggling not to judge, but it was hard when you compared the powerful couple’s apparent response to their son’s. Dante’s instinct was to protect his people and theirs was to protect themselves.

She struggled to subdue her anger—this was not the time or the place—but she was determined to point it out the next time they criticised anything Dante did—always assuming that she would be here to say anything.

The abrupt realisation brought with it a wave of desolation as, still playing mental catch-up, she dragged her wandering thoughts back to the present.

‘Carl is here?’

‘He was on the mainland.’ He slid his foot into his boot and looked up, meeting her eyes. ‘I followed your advice and we were going to meet up and talk in person. He jumped in a chopper as soon as he heard. He’s persuaded Grandfather to evacuate, along with you and some of the—’

Well, good luck with that, she thought. ‘Along with me?’ she interrupted.

Dante bent his head to tighten the belt on the trousers he had exchanged for his shorts. Nobody had produced a shirt; he still wore the vest that clung to the contours of his muscled chest and exposed the powerful musculature of his arms. He flashed her an impatient look.

‘Don’t be difficult,’ he pleaded.

‘I thought you said there is no danger.’

‘There isn’t.’

She gave an eloquent shrug and stood her ground.

‘I’ll just have someone gather a few essentials for you and be ready in five minutes. Someone will—’

‘I’ve only just got back. I’m not going anywhere.’ This was so frustrating; she had so much she needed to say. ‘Are you leaving?’

He stood with his phone half raised to his ear. ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘I have no doubt,’ she countered coolly. ‘That wasn’t what I asked.’

‘Me leave!’

He looked so offended by the mere suggestion and for a moment the surge of warmth and love she felt for this man swamped everything else she was feeling.

‘That would hardly send out the right message. Panic is the problem. My presence will hopefully help keep a lid on things. What are you doing? The helicopters are waiting. You need to get going and I need…’ You, he thought and shooed the thought away.

She swallowed. ‘You’re hurt.’ She walked up to him and touched the graze on his cheek that was seeping blood.

He moved back from her touch, a spasm of dismissal twisting his lips; he could not afford any distractions. ‘It is nothing. You need to hurry.’ He caught her wrists and looked down at her, allowing himself the indulgence for a moment of drinking in her lovely face.

‘Your grandfather isn’t going to go quietly.’ Yet another worry for his already overburdened, though very broad, shoulders to bear.

Dante fought the reluctance to release her wrists and stepped back. ‘He’s a stubborn old—But don’t worry,’ he added, moderating his tone. ‘We’ll make sure he’s all right.’

‘Yes, I know you will,’ she said, shaking back her hair and gathering it in one hand with a practised double twist of her wrist, then securing it in a haphazard ponytail on the base of her neck. ‘So, what do you want me to do?’

He stared at her as though she were talking a foreign language. ‘What are you talking about, Beatrice? I really don’t have the time for you to—How am I supposed to focus if I’m worried about you?’

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