CHAPTER FOUR
“WE HAVE TO GO BACK.” Lizzy refused to move from the front door. “I left Andrew.”
“It’s late, Lizzy. Almost time for bed. We can’t go back now. I’ll phone the Ocean Club and explain. They’ll keep Andrew safe.”
“Nooo. I can’t sleep without him. Someone might take him.”
Emily didn’t think a battered bear with one eye missing and a slit throat would fit most people’s idea of a dream toy, but she kept that thought to herself. She was too busy beating herself up for making such a basic mistake. How could she have left the bear? And why hadn’t she noticed sooner? It proved what she already knew—that she was the wrong person for this task. “Most people don’t take things that belong to other people.” Hoping her faith in human nature wasn’t misplaced, she fumbled for her phone. “I’m going to call and ask them to keep Andrew. We’ll pick him up tomorrow.” By then the newspaper would have been thrown away, hopefully by someone more interested in tidying it up than reading it.
If she was lucky, no one would make the connection, but the incident had shaken her.
All thoughts of leaving the island faded. She needed to hide away, and there was no better place for that than Castaway Cottage.
Lizzy’s face crumpled. “I want Andrew.”
Emily’s hands shook on the phone. “I’m going to make the call right now. Remember that nice girl, Kirsti? We’re going to ask her to take care of Andrew until tomorrow.”
Lizzy didn’t answer. Instead, she ran into the living room and flopped down on the sofa with her face turned away.
Emily couldn’t help thinking a tantrum would have been easier to handle, but she was learning that Lizzy’s way of handling stress was to lock herself away.
She was looking up the number for the Ocean Club when there was a knock at the door.
What now?
Had someone recognized them?
Was this the moment she’d been dreading?
Braced for defensive action, she opened the door. She’d call the police. She’d sneak away in the night. She’d—
Ryan stood there, the bear in his hands. “I thought you might be missing this. I would have brought it over sooner but we’ve been insanely busy.”
Emily sagged against the door frame. She’d never been so pleased to see anyone in her life. “You’re a lifesaver. She adores that bear.” She took it from him, wondering how to clone the battered bear. “I should have been more careful.” She felt like hugging him but decided hugging Ryan Cooper probably qualified as a dangerous sport.
“Don’t be hard on yourself. When my sister was Lizzy’s age she was always losing toys. And you left in a hurry.”
“We had things to do.” Relief was tempered by caution. “It was kind of you to drive over. I don’t know how to thank you. You’re obviously busy, so—”
“It calms down around this time. The lull before the storm. Can I come in?”
Only minutes earlier she’d been wishing she wasn’t on her own with this. Now she was wishing the bear’s rescuer had been anyone but him.
She wanted to close the door on all that raw masculinity, but he’d brought the bear and saved her life. She couldn’t be rude to him simply because he made her feel things she didn’t have time to feel right now.
Reluctantly, she opened the door wider. “I’ll give Lizzy the bear.”
She found the little girl exactly where she’d left her, lying listlessly on the sofa, staring at the wall.
“Ryan brought Andrew back.” Dropping to her knees in front of the sofa, Emily tucked the battered bear into Lizzy’s arms. “I promise we’ll never leave him again.”
Lizzy squeezed the bear so tightly Emily was afraid it might lose its head permanently.
Ryan watched from the doorway. “I love a happy ending.” He glanced around the living room. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here. You have no idea how many offers Kathleen had for this piece of land.”
“It doesn’t surprise me. But Brittany will never sell.” She stood up. “Can I fetch you a drink? We haven’t had time to stock up properly yet, but I have juice or soda. Or coffee?”
He followed her into the kitchen and scanned the bags on the table she hadn’t yet unpacked. “That’s not going to keep you going for long.”
“It will do for now.” Pulling milk out of the bag, she stowed it in the fridge. She had a carton of eggs in her hand when he spoke.
“Emily, I know.”
“Sorry?”
He glanced over his shoulder, checking Lizzy was still in the living room. “I know why you ran.”
She forced herself to keep breathing. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“The world is speculating on the whereabouts of Juliet Fox, six-year-old daughter of troubled Hollywood actress Lana Fox who died a month ago in a plane crash along with the man everyone assumes was one of her lovers. Rumor has it the child is staying with a friend or relative in an unknown location.”
The carton of eggs slipped from her fingers and crashed onto the floor, spreading the contents in a sticky mess. “You saw the newspaper.”
“I was looking for a reason for your abrupt departure.”
Trying to think through the panic, she sank onto the nearest chair, ignoring the puddle of eggs congealing on the floor. “I came here because I thought we’d be safe.”
“Safe from what? I assume you’re her guardian.”
“Yes, although as you can see, I’m not the right person for the job.” She gripped her knees until her knuckles were white, and Ryan dropped to his haunches in front of her so they were eye level.
“Why aren’t you the right person?”
“Do you want a list? First, I lose the bear, then, I risk exposing her by taking her out in public. I shouldn’t have said yes to the drink.” There was another reason why she knew she wasn’t the right person, the most important reason of all, but that wasn’t something she intended to share.
“I was the one who invited you for a drink.”
“The responsibility was mine. You didn’t know.”
His eyes were dark velvet, his voice calm. “Are you seriously planning to hide away?”
“What choice do I have? I don’t want the press to know we’re here.” She took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. “I talked to a bunch of people who have been with her since the accident. Lawyers, case workers, grief counselors. My head was spinning, so goodness knows what hers was doing. But the message I took from it all was that she needs to live as normal a life as possible. No media attention. No cameras. It freaks her out. There were great packs of them outside the house. One of them even got inside and cornered her, trying to get information about her mother. He’s the one that scared her the most. Can you believe someone would actually do that? She’s six years old. Six. I have to protect her from that.”
His expression unreadable, he rose to his feet. “They told you her life needs to be as normal as possible. Not going out isn’t normal. A child can’t live her life trapped in a house and neither can you.”
“I think she used to spend a lot of time in her old house, although of course, it was more of a palace than a house, and she had everything she needed within those walls and staff.”
“You think? So you don’t know her that well?”
“I don’t know her at all.” She reasoned that he already knew the part that could hurt them, so revealing detail wouldn’t make a difference.
“Whatever her old life was like, it’s gone. She needs to rebuild a life. And it needs to be a normal life. She doesn’t need staff, she needs security.”
“That’s why I’ve already decided that from now on I’m only leaving the cottage when we need food.”
“I don’t mean that sort of security. I mean the sort that comes from knowing there are people around you who care about you and have your back. You can’t keep her hidden in the cottage, Emily. Both of you will go crazy. She’s a kid. She needs to explore and play. She needs to meet other kids. And what about you? Are you going to spend the next twelve years shut away here with no adult company?”
“I’m planning the next twelve hours. I can’t think further ahead than that.” Twelve years? The thought made her want to hyperventilate. “I’m going to need to make trips into town. She’s too young to be left alone and I don’t have anyone here I can trust.”
“Hey, let’s take this a step at a time.” He sat down in the chair opposite her. “This is why Brittany said you were panicking.”
There was much more to her panic and feelings of inadequacy than her ability to keep Lizzy’s identity a secret. Eventually, she knew, media attention would move to other things, other lives, but she’d still be the child’s guardian, and she knew she wasn’t equipped for that monumental task. “When I told her what happened, she suggested I use the cottage. Kathleen left it to Brittany because she wanted her to have somewhere that was hers, somewhere she could go when life was tough. On our last day together at college Brittany gave us both a key.”
“You and Skylar?”
“Yes. She said Kathleen would have wanted it. We were moving to different sides of the country. In Brittany’s case, to a different continent half the time. It was somewhere we could come if we ever needed it.”
“And you needed it.”
“It seemed like a perfect place to hide while I worked out what to do.”
For Lizzy it was perfect. For her, it was a nightmare. The crash of the waves kept her awake, churning up memories like the ocean churned sand on the seabed.
“What’s your connection to Lana Fox?”
Emily was filled with a ridiculous desire to lean on all that hard strength, an impulse that made no sense because she’d been taking care of herself since she was younger than Lizzy.
“She was my sister.” She saw his expression shift from concern to surprise. “I hadn’t seen Lana since I left to go to college, and I met her child for the first time three days ago. We have no relationship. Lizzy has lost her mother and everything familiar and all she has is me.” Panic bubbled up inside her. “That isn’t good.”
“Yeah, that must feel like a hell of a responsibility to shoulder alone. Is someone contesting the guardianship? Another relative?”
“There are no other relatives.”
“Do you know the identity of the father?”
“Lana never told anyone. I’m all she has.” Saying it aloud made it seem all the more terrifying.
“I didn’t know Lana Fox had a sister.”
“Half sister. We had the same mother. Different fathers.” Nameless, faceless men whom her mother had taken home after one of her nights of endless drinking.
“I saw mention of her mother once. She was an alcoholic—” His voice tailed off as he saw her expression change. “I apologize. She was your mother, too.”
“I’m not afraid of facts, and the facts were that my mother used to sleep with men when she was drunk and then face the consequences sober. She died a couple of years ago. Her liver decided it had been to one party too many.”
“I don’t remember Lana Fox ever talking about her family in the press.”
“She reinvented herself. We didn’t exactly have a fairy-tale childhood.”
“Some fairy tales are pretty bad.” He stretched out his legs. “That woman in Cinderella was a real bitch.”
It lightened the atmosphere, and a laugh bubbled up from her throat. “Yes. And then there was the queen in Snow White. She was a classic case of narcissistic personality disorder.”
“Cruella de Vil was a serial killer.”
“—of Dalmatians.”
“True, but she demonstrated the same psychotic tendencies seen in other murderers. Lack of compassion and lack of remorse.”
“Maybe my childhood was closer to a fairy tale than I thought.”
“Too many elements missing. For a start, you didn’t find your prince.” He glanced at her left hand. “You’re single.”
“Whenever I saw him climbing up the tower to my bedroom I gave him a push.”
“Yeah? Just for my own interest and research, what was it that put you off?”
“He was creepy.”
“Right.” His smile faded. “So you and Lana weren’t close as children?”
“I was the ugly sister.”
“Given how manifestly wrong that description is, I assume it was hers.”
“It wasn’t wrong. She was very beautiful.” Emily thought about the reality of her childhood. “And, no, we weren’t close. We were just people living under the same roof for a little while. It was a shock when they called me to say she’d named me guardian, but then I thought about it and realized there wasn’t anyone else. It was a decision made out of necessity, not choice.”
“Did she leave you a letter?”
“Nothing.”
“So one minute you were living your life, a life in which you’d had no contact with your half sister since you were a teenager, and the next you were guardian to her child. That is a major life change. Were you working? What did you do with the math and economics you studied?”
“Up until last month I was a management consultant. I worked for Taylor Hammond in New York.”
He looked impressed. “That’s the big-time.”
“They had a reorganization and there was no job for me in the new structure. I was interviewing for new jobs when I found out about Lizzy.” She clenched her hands in her lap. “Skylar would make some observation about how that was an indication that this was meant to be. How one day I’ll look back and be pleased this happened.”
Ryan gave a low laugh. “Kirsti would probably say the same thing. She believes in fate. So, are you missing New York? You had a life there.”
Emily wondered if what she’d had could really be described as a life. “I had a job and a boyfriend.”
“So there was a prince. You pushed him down the tower with the others?”
“He jumped. He got a look at the princess, decided she didn’t look like a good deal and got the hell out.” It helped to make a joke of it. “He dumped me a month ago.”
“Not very princely behavior. And that was before Lizzy was on the scene. So it wasn’t because of the child?”
“No.” She stared at the mess on the floor. “Not because of that.”
“How long were you together?”
“Three years. Two of which we lived together.”
“Life really has dealt you a hand.” His gaze was steady. Sympathetic. “I just want you to know I’m here for rebound sex or revenge sex whenever you need it. Just say the word. Or just grab me and explain afterward, whatever works for you.”
She wouldn’t have thought it possible to want to laugh at that moment, but she did. “Did you really just say that?”
“I really did. Want to think about it?”
The crazy thing was she had thought about it. What woman wouldn’t? Ryan Cooper was insanely attractive. If all you were looking for was a night you’d never forget, he’d be the perfect choice. “I’m trying to be a responsible parent figure. I’ve already lost the bear. I think being caught having sex on the kitchen table would be a major fail.”
“Possibly. So, just to clarify—the only thing that’s stopping you is that your niece is asleep in the living room?”
“I can’t believe I’m laughing. What is there to laugh about?”
“In my experience laughing always helps. So, what’s your plan?”
“I got myself here. So far, that’s it. I need to lie low while I work out what is best for Lizzy.”
“And what about you?”
Her mouth was dry. “What about me?”
“You didn’t sign on for this. It wasn’t your choice.” Something about the way he said it made her wonder if there was more to his comment than an astute observation.
“It wasn’t a choice for either of us.”
“I presume you chose the name ‘Lizzy’ because you’re worried Juliet might draw attention.”
“It’s not a common name, and right now it’s in the press a lot, so I thought it safer not to use it.”
“Good decision. While the story is hot, the fewer people who make the connection, the better.”
“But you know.” As the implications of that struck her, she had to force herself to breathe. “What are you going to do with the information? The media would pay good money for a photo of Lana’s child.”
“Do I look like I need to sell a story to the media?” His mild tone coated layers of steel, and she squirmed because it seemed an uncharitable accusation, given he’d been nothing but helpful.
“I’m sorry. That was inexcusable. But I don’t know you. And I don’t know her, either.”
“You know she likes chocolate milk and waffles.”
She gave a wan smile. “Small steps.”
He stood up. “Life is made of small steps. Let’s start by clearing up the eggs before you slip. Breaking both your legs and knocking yourself unconscious isn’t going to make the future easier.”
“The eggs were for tomorrow’s breakfast.”
“I’ll bring you breakfast. I’ll be around at nine. Don’t leave the cottage until I get here. That’s the next twelve hours sorted. After that, we’ll plan the next twelve hours. You can get through a life like that.” With an efficiency that surprised her, he cleaned up the mess and stowed the contents of the bags while Emily went to check on Lizzy.
She found her asleep, still clutching Andrew.
“She’s exhausted. I should put her to bed.”
“I’ll carry her upstairs.” Ryan was behind her, and she shook her head.
“I can do it.”
“Are you sure?” He eyed her frame. “You don’t look strong enough.”
“Careful. You’re starting to sound like a fairy-tale prince. Just for the record, I’m capable of storming my own castle.” She scooped Lizzy up in her arms and headed upstairs. She weighed more than Emily had expected, but she would rather have sprained her back than admit it to Ryan Cooper.
She lowered Lizzy to the bed, pulled off the little girl’s shoes, tucked Andrew next to her and covered child and bear with the quilt. Then she stood, looking down at the feathery lashes brushing pale cheeks, and felt overwhelmed by the responsibility.
This wasn’t temporary. This wasn’t just for a few days or even the summer.
This was forever.
Subduing the panic, she stepped away from the bed. She couldn’t think about forever.
She returned to the kitchen to find Ryan opening cupboards. “What are you looking for?”
“Wine?” He paused. “Or maybe you don’t drink.”
She knew he was thinking of her mother. “I drink. But I stop. Unfortunately wine wasn’t one of the things I grabbed in my two-minute raid of Harbor Stores.”
“Will coffee keep you awake?”
“I don’t sleep, anyway.” She was afraid to close her eyes in case something happened.
And now she had Lizzy in the bed with her.
“So, which is the worst part of all this? The boyfriend, the job or the kid?” He reached for a coffeepot while she found two mugs and put them down on the counter.
“Definitely the child.”
“Not the boyfriend?”
“It would have ended eventually.”
“Commitment phobia?”
“In a way.”
“Plenty of men suffer from the same affliction.”
“I was talking about me. I end all my relationships.”
He gave her a curious look. “I would never have cast you in the role of serial heartbreaker.”
“I try and disguise it. I sand the bedpost to hide the notches.”
“So, what do you want out of a relationship?”
She watched as he moved around the kitchen and poured coffee into the two mugs, handing one to her. He looked competent and relaxed. “I don’t want a traditional happy ending if that’s what you’re asking. Two children and a dog have never interested me.”
“Which bit of that scenario bothers you most? The dog?”
She knew he was teasing, but this time she couldn’t smile. “All of it bothers me.”
“But you’ve ended up with a child, anyway.”
“Yes.” She walked to the window, trying to steady herself. “My favorite part of this house is the garden. We used to pick blueberries and eat them for breakfast.”
“The climate and the soil are perfect here. You should try the blueberry ice cream at Summer Scoop on the harbor. It’s delicious.” Ryan paused. “What will you do about a job? Puffin Island isn’t exactly a hub of activity for management consultancy firms.”
“I’m not thinking about that right now.” She sipped her coffee, thinking how strange it was having a man in her kitchen. “I’m still adjusting to being responsible for a child. I have some money saved up. I’ll worry about the rest of it later.”
“Does your ex-boyfriend know what happened?”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed. “Let me get this straight. You were together for three years, and he hasn’t once checked to see how you’re doing?”
“The only people who know are Brittany and Skylar. And the lawyers, obviously. Even Lana’s staff weren’t told, for obvious reasons, since at least one of them let a journalist into the house. Who does that? Who stalks a child?” She put the mug down and stared over the garden. “I’m not going to be able to keep it a secret, am I? This place is going to be crowded with tourists in the summer. Someone is going to recognize her.”
“Not necessarily. You forget that they’re not looking. This isn’t Hollywood. People come here to spend time away from the busy crush of their lives. They come here for the coast and the sea air.”
“One of the locals will say something, then. Her picture was on the front page of the newspaper. They shouldn’t be allowed to do that.”
“The community is very protective of its own.”
“But I’m not a member of the community.”
“You’re Brittany’s friend, living in Brittany’s cottage. That makes you a local.”
“All it takes is one person. One call to the press and suddenly the island is flooded with them, like ants finding sugar to feed on.”
He finished his coffee. “You’re safe here tonight. Tomorrow we’ll formulate a plan.”
She knew a plan wasn’t going to change the basic facts.
Like it or not, she was responsible for a child.
*
HE DROVE HOME along the coast road, saw a light burning in Alec’s house, considered stopping in and then decided he’d end up fielding questions he didn’t want to answer.
He avoided the bustle of the bar and went straight to his apartment. The building that now housed the Ocean Club Apartments had originally been a boatyard. It had stood empty for over three decades, battered by storms and winter weather, which was why he’d managed to buy the land for a ridiculously low price. He’d seen potential where others hadn’t.
It had been a labor of love converting it, but his reward had been a profitable rental business and a premium apartment he could have sold a hundred times over. It stretched the length of the building and had a large glass-fronted open-plan living space that was always flooded with light regardless of season or weather.
At night he liked to sprawl on one of the sofas and watch the sun melt into the sea. Tonight he made straight for the office area in the corner and flipped open his laptop.
He hit the power switch and grabbed a beer from the fridge while he waited for it to boot up. Sprawling in the chair, he thought about the woman.
Those green eyes had been the first thing he’d noticed about her when she’d opened the door to him that day, closely followed by those delicious curves that no amount of discreet clothing could conceal.
The fact she’d put her life on hold to care for her orphaned niece was laudable, but at the same time put her strictly out of bounds.
Ryan wasn’t looking for that level of complexity or intimacy in his relationships.
He’d had his fill of parenthood at an age when most kids had barely discovered the meaning of sex.
Without the plea from Brittany asking him to check on her friend, he would have stayed the hell away from her, and now that he had the facts, he was starting to wish he had.
He understood her situation better than she could possibly have imagined, which made the power of the sexual connection an inconvenience he was determined to ignore.
A woman with a child was not part of his game plan, and the fact that the child wasn’t biologically hers made no difference. White knight was a role he avoided, right along with women who made noises about weddings and settling down.
Juliet Fox.
Brittany obviously hadn’t mentioned his past. If Emily had known the truth, she definitely would have closed the door in his face.
With a soft curse he turned to his laptop and hit a couple of keys.
He started by searching the internet. He knew where to look to get the information he needed, and once he’d found everything he could without going deeper he reached for his phone and made one call.
“Larry?”
“Hey, stranger.”
He could imagine his old colleague and adversary hunched over his untidy desk with papers overflowing over every square inch of space. “Slow news day?”
“Why would you care about the news? I thought you’d retired, yacht boy.”
“I have, but the paper I saw today was enough to send a person to sleep. Lana Fox on the front page. What’s that about?”
“Why do you care? Not exactly your area of interest, and anyway, last time I heard, all you read was tide tables. Are you thinking of coming back to the real world?”
“No. I’m just curious.”
“Curious is one step from coming out of retirement.”
“I’m not retired. I changed direction.” Ryan picked up his beer, blocked out images that still kept him awake at night and stared at the information on his computer screen. “Tell me what you know about her.”
“Lana Fox? She’s dead.”
“Yeah, I got that part. I was hoping for a little more depth.”
“Depth and Lana Fox aren’t words that sit comfortably together. What do I know? Total wacko. How she managed to hold it together in front of a camera, no one knows. Rumor has it they were threatening to fire her from her last film because she lost so many days on set.”
Ryan stretched out his legs and stared out to sea. “The paper mentioned a kid.” A kid she’d left in the care of an aunt she’d never met.
“Why would you be interested in that?”
“Can’t imagine Lana as a mother, that’s all. Didn’t seem the type.”
“Well, she wasn’t Mary Poppins, if that’s what you’re asking me. I think she forgot she had a kid except for the few occasions when it suited her to show her off to the cameras. If you ask me, that child was a publicity stunt. Maybe she wanted the attention. She certainly had everyone speculating about the father. Who knows? Maybe she was going to reveal it at some point. Use it in some way. Casting couch in reverse. Woman on top.”
Ryan thought about what Emily had told him about Lizzy being scared of cameras and photographers.
Mind working, he watched the lights from a yacht winking in the darkness. “Any idea what happened to her?”
“The kid? That’s a mystery. There was some talk of family, but I always thought Lana invented herself with some pixie dust and a fairy wand. No one has been able to find out details. There’s probably a story there if anyone can be bothered to look.”
Ryan thought about the child fast asleep just a couple of miles away.
“Doesn’t sound like much of a story to me.”
“Me neither, but that’s because I prefer something more challenging than trapping first-graders. So, why all the questions? You’re tired of lounging around with lobsters and want to come back to the bright lights of the city?”
“That won’t be happening anytime soon.”
“Are you bored with being a tycoon? You thinking of starting up a newspaper? The Puffin Post?” Larry laughed at his own joke. “The Crab Chronicle.”
“You are hilarious.”
“No, you’re the one who is hilarious burying yourself in the freezing wastes of rural Maine when you could have been here at the sharp end. You don’t have to travel if you’ve lost the taste for it. You could pick your job. That’s what happens when you were the best of the best. Come back. Dust off that Pulitzer prize. Return to the dark side.”
“No.” Ryan watched as the lights of a boat blinked in the bay. “Those days are over.”
“They’ll never be over. You’re a born journalist. You can’t help yourself. You smell blood and you hunt. So, is something going on there? Is that nose of yours on the scent of something?”
Ryan thought about Juliet Fox. About how much the media would love to get their hands on that juicy piece of information.
He thought about how Emily would react if she found out what his career had been before he’d moved back to the island.
“No,” he said slowly. “I don’t have anything. I’m living in the freezing wastes of rural Maine, remember? Nothing ever happens here.”