8

She told the charity she needed a bit of personal time, and laid out all the reasons why she thought her second-in-command was more than capable of stepping into the role. She wrote her second-in-command, apologizing for the short notice, but making sure the woman she’d handpicked knew that it was her very competence that had made Lexi so sure she could slip away. It was true, she’d realized as she wrote it all out, even though she might not have thought it through before she’d gotten on that plane.

She emailed her father—or rather, his personal secretary—and felt badly about the relief she felt because she didn’t have to have an actual conversation with him. Because she already knew what he’d say. Or rather, how he would sound while he said it. And he was far too good at triggering her guilt. That it was unintentional on his part, and always motivated by concern, somehow always made her feel more guilty. The truth was, Lexi didn’t feel guilty at the moment. She didn’t want to feel guilty.

I’ve decided to take a little break, she had texted Lily.

I support this move completely, her best friend had fired back. I hope a beach is involved. Hot boys and cocktails.

More or less, Lexi had replied. And it had still been that first night, so that strange fear had washed over her, gripping her tight. I’m in Olkfield. And she’d stared down at her phone, watching as the three dots that indicated Lily was typing appeared. Then disappeared. Appeared again. Then disappeared once more.

She’d been sitting in the guest room then, her feet crossed beneath her as she sat in the armchair in the corner of the room. She’d stared at her phone, nervously worrying her knuckle between her teeth.

Tell Tyler I say hello, came the reply, at last.

And that was all.

But it didn’t matter. Lily knew. And if Lexi let herself think about it, it was likely that Lily knew a whole lot more than the two of them had ever discussed directly. Like those moments with Tyler, taut and strange, that Lexi had been pretending not to notice for years now. And yet none of them as intense as what had happened here.

It took her two days to remember that she ought to let Victor know where she was, too.

I have gone off to Olkfield, she texted him, feeling as stiff as the words sounded when she stared at them on her screen. I don’t expect to be gone too long.

Victor's reply had come swiftly. Please update my assistant with return date.

Just in case Lexi had been tempted to romanticize something that had nothing to do with romance. She told herself that what she’d felt, then, staring at his message, was peace. Relief. She told herself that was what she felt now, too.

“What are you scowling at?” came Tyler's low voice from behind her.

Lexi jumped, then turned that scowl on him. And immediately wished she hadn’t.

Because Tyler worked on that marvelous body of his. There was a gym in the house, where he put in at least an hour a day, but he also liked to run. He’d introduced her to the coastal walk that stretched from the Beach, and Lexi had taken to walking it on fine mornings, breathing in deep. Letting the Sea breeze and the lovely sunshine dance over her face like happiness. Stopping here and there to gaze at the water or take pictures from the rocky cliffs.

Tyler ran it. She could tell that he’d been out on the run already this morning, because he wore nothing but a pair of athletic shorts, and he was…gleaming.

Sweating, she corrected herself crossly.

She should have been revolted. But he didn’t smell bad. He smelled clean. Male. And the sweat of his exertion only made him look better, somehow. It made his green eyes gleam brightly, and Lexi felt reduced to a stuttering, bumbling mess.

It happened more and more the longer she stayed here. One more reason she should leave.

“I’m not scowling,” she told him, ignoring all that gleaming. “I was thinking about business-related things. I’m so far away I keep pretending Nemford doesn’t exist. But it does.”

“Last I heard, yes.” He sounded amused as he went to the refrigerator, and pulled out the makings of the shake he put together every morning.

Several different powders she assumed were proteins and superfoods and whatever else it was health nuts liked to put in themselves to keep up with all the gleaming. Green things and antioxidants and worthy supplements packed with vitamins. The very opposite of the full breakfast she remembered him tucking into with gusto on hungover mornings.

There was no reason for her to be here, but she leaned against the counter, her mug of strong tea in her hands and watched. Tyler fixed himself his drink then chugged it down, tipping back his head so she could hardly help but stare at the strong column of his throat. And all the lines, planes and ridges of that body he worked so hard on almost entirely exposed to her view.

She studied the tattoo on his back, the line of Gaelic down his spine and the Celtic knot he wore over his heart. Why did she want to put her hands on him so badly? To trace those tattoos she recognized like old friends, to remind herself how well they suited him and how easily he wore them.

Because you need to go home, she told herself sternly.

“I’m headed into the office,” Tyler said. And when he looked at her, his green gaze swept over her the way it always did, after that first conversation. Friendly. Happy. Not complicated in the least.

There was no reason it should make her teeth ache, so hard that she clenched them. “The housekeeping service will be in,” he continued mildly, though something about the way he looked at her made her unclench her teeth. “I told them to expect a guest on the premises, so don’t be put off if you wake from a nap to find someone hoovering up the place.”

“I won’t be here,” she said grandly. And without thinking it through. “I’m going to do a bit of the tourist thing.”

“And here I thought you planned to waft up and down the coastal path again.” He studied her. “You should roam about Quay and the Rocks. Take the ferries all over Olkfield Harbour. Get a sense of the place.”