Children of the Sea 01 - Sea Witch

should have been amused. Annoyed. But there was comfort in that light touch, reassurance in the way he steered her steps and opened her door and disposed of her packages in back.
     
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    He settled into the seat beside her, his big, square knee thrusting into her space. His long-fingered hands were strong and gentle on the wheel.
     
    Desire fizzled along her nerves, easing the pressure in her chest.
     
    They rode to his house in silence.
     
    Caleb lived on the east side—the ocean side—of the island, in a solidly constructed cabin tucked under the trees, at once solitary and completely a part of its environment. Pine needles released their fragrance underfoot as he guided her to the front door.
     
    Inside, one big chair and a bigger couch faced a wide, flat, black screen. No pillows. No plants. Just dark, warm colors against pale, smooth wood, and a stack of magazines piled by a chair.
     
    He showed her his bedroom, tidy and a little bare. Margred stood in the middle of the room, her gaze traveling from the neatly made bed to the window. Through the wooden blinds, over the tops of the trees, she glimpsed the sea, shining like a secret in the last light of evening.
     
    Longing took her breath.
     
    “You can lie in that bed and watch the sun rise over the ocean,”
    Caleb said quietly behind her. “After Iraq, I . . .”
     
    His silence tugged at her. “After Iraq, what?”
     
    “Nothing.” He deposited her bags on the bed and nodded toward an open door. “Bathroom’s through there. You can shower, change, whatever. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”
     
    She understood he was giving her time to rest and regroup before he joined her. She appreciated his consideration.
     
    “Well.” He stuck his thumbs in his pockets. “Make yourself at home,” he said, and left her.
     
    She looked around the clean, organized space, the polished shoes set side by side beneath a chair, the coins stacked by size upon the dresser. A far cry from the magpie luxury of Caer Subai.
     
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    She sank down on the mattress, momentarily overwhelmed. What was she doing here? What was she doing?
     
    Make yourself at home , Caleb had said.
     
    Her gaze fell on the shopping bags. All right, then. She could do that. Opening the nearest one, she rummaged inside for shampoo and lotions.
     
    Something glinted at the bottom of the bag. She reached down and closed her hand on it.
     
    A necklace.
     
    Her heartbeat quickened foolishly as she drew it out, a simple black ribbon with tiny chips of coral and sea glass between two round silver beads like pearls. She had admired it in the shop. In the middle, suspended like a charm, was a shell. A Scotch bonnet.
     
    Her fingers curled around it.
     
    Caleb must have seen— He must have known— He must have bought it for her.
     
    She sat for a long time, the necklace in her hand and her gaze on the sea beyond the windows. Her heart felt strangely full. Heavy.
     
    She was . . . touched, she decided. He had touched her with his gift.
     
    That means you’re sleeping with me, right ?
     
    Oh, yes .
     
    Not from obligation, but because she wanted to.
     
    Satisfied with her decision, she fastened the necklace around her throat, fumbling with the clasp.
     
    Squinting, she regarded the shell against her chest. Pretty, she thought. A little hum started in her blood. Smiling in anticipation, she opened the door.
     
    And found Caleb asleep on the couch.
     
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    Ah. Well.
     
    Her heart stumbled in disappointment. Her lips pursed. She could wake him. She would wake him.
     
    In a moment.
     
    He looked so . . . not exactly peaceful, lying there. Even in sleep, tension dug lines between his brows and compressed his mouth. His short, thick lashes shielded his eyes. His beard lurked just beneath his skin. The heaviness in her moved from her heart to her loins. She wanted to test the texture of his jaw with her palm.
     
    When had he last shaved?
     
    When had he last slept?
     
    She knew he had been on the beach last night and again this morning. Searching the scene, Lucy had explained. Talking to people.
    Had he gone to bed at all?
     
    As she watched, his open hand clenched on the cushions of the couch. He shivered, as if he were cold.
     
    She was not used to denying herself. She did not like it. But Caleb was obviously exhausted.
     
    With a sigh, Margred went back into the bedroom, pulled the blanket from his bed, and covered him.
     
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Eleven
     
    HIS DREAM