Sea Haven 01 - Water Bound

His contact with outsiders would be minimal.
    We’ll see about that.
    Her gaze jumped to his and the breath left her body in a foolish rush.
    That intimate voice stroked every nerve ending. Her mouth went dry. They’d never discussed their strange conversation or her near fall in the pond. She found ignoring subjects she didn’t want to discuss was usually the best way to go, but he didn’t seem to realize he wasn’t allowed in her head.
    She narrowed her eyes at him. “Give me your list, and I’ll go into town and get the supplies.” She wasn’t arguing with him over the boat—or telepathy. She was the captain. Out at sea, no one questioned her authority.
    His fingers brushed hers when he transferred the paper to her. She felt a jolt through her entire system. Everything seemed so out of focus. She didn’t like anyone touching her, yet when this man did, she didn’t feel thousands of pinpricks as she normally did. The pressure of her wet suit helped to combat the way her body felt as if it were flying apart. She had a weighted lap 110

    blanket she used for the same purpose, but she had neither item to help her now. She just stood there looking at him a little helplessly, trying to figure out how to think or feel in such an unfamiliar situation.
    “It will be all right,” he murmured softly, and his fingers stroked over her face, tracing her bones.
    She sucked in her breath, shocked that she could stand there, trembling, feeling nervous flutters instead of pinpricks and pain. She shook her head, trying to throw off the spell he seemed to weave around her.
    “Only my sisters ever come here, and they won’t with my truck gone.
    Just keep the doors locked and the shades pulled down. I doubt you’ll be disturbed.” She turned back to him. “Don’t kill anyone while I’m gone.
    They might be important to me.”
    Rikki started out the door, but Lev caught her arm.
    “You won’t say anything about me?”
    She scowled. “I dragged your ass out of the sea, cleaned you up and gave you a place to stay. Who the hell am I going to tell?”
    He shrugged. “It just matters.”
    “You’re dead. Stay that way until I get back.” She shoved her dark glasses onto her nose and marched out, indignant that he thought she was too stupid to keep quiet.
    Muttering to herself, she started toward her truck, but she couldn’t quite force herself from her normal routine. She cast a surreptitious glance toward the window, but even if he was watching, did it matter? This was her home—her life—she wasn’t going to change because she’d hauled some man out of the sea. And he was just as strange in his own way as she was.
    He was definitely secretive, everything he owned seemed to be a weapon, and his first reaction was usually violence. Yeah, she was not going to apologize for who she was.
    She circled the house, checking each window, making certain her silk threads were intact. If anyone tried to lift the windows, they wouldn’t notice the small thread fluttering to the ground. She examined the flower beds she’d planted beneath the windows. The dirt was soft and damp and would reveal any prints. She checked her hoses, rolled perfectly around the hose reels on each side of the house. She was very fussy about the hoses. They had to be able to be pulled off fast with no kinks in case of an emergency.
    When she walked around to the front of her house, Lev stood there watching her. She sent him a dark frown. “What?”
    “You don’t have to worry with me here.”
    She tilted her chin. Usually she didn’t bother with explanations, and she wasn’t going to tell him. Let him find out she had a routine—a ritual—
    111

    she couldn’t go anywhere without performing first. She had a lot of those.
    He could leave if her ways bothered him. She climbed into the truck and slammed the door without answering him. She did look back in the rearview mirror and felt sad for him. He looked very alone.
    She drove along the winding tree-lined road that lead to the coastal highway, and she felt immediate relief. She hadn’t spent this much time with another human being since she had been a teenager, and it was stressful. She tried not to stare—looking through him or into him instead—or to get caught up in the small observations that she tended to fixate on. It was darned stressful just to be with people.
    Once she’d turned onto Highway 1, she could see the ocean. The sea soothed her, no matter what mood it was in. The