might so you’d better take this. I’ve shaken and aired it to make sure there aren’t any bugs.” He held out a green sleeping bag.
“It’s too warm for a sleeping bag,” she replied, moving back. Relief filled her as she placed some distance between them.
He shrugged. “You’ll be surprised. A cool wind is getting up and in the middle of the night, the temperatures can drop quite dramatically.”
“But, isn’t this yours?”
“I’ve got another one. Also, I’m going to light a fire on the beach, which will keep us warm and also cook our supper.”
“That sounds good,” she said, her voice soft with unknown emotion. Turning, she hurried out of the wobbly front door and made her way to her makeshift camp.
She ran to the beach, landing with a thump next to her belongings. What had she got herself into, for heaven’s sake? Her heart gradually returned to its normal rate as she changed from her swimsuit into warm slacks and top. Jack was right. The air was cooler now, and she shivered as she settled into her homemade bed, wrapping the sleeping bag around her and wondering how she was going to make it through the night.
It was an hour later that she saw him bent over a fire he’d set up on the beach a short distance from her. He had soon coaxed it into life, the red flames accentuating the darkness around her.
“Why don’t you bring your sleeping gear over here?” he called. “You’ll be much warmer and I’m just going to start supper.”
Disheveled and sandy, she made her way to the fire, carrying her bag with her and trying to appear nonchalant. He had brought an icebox from the house with various cooking utensils and crockery items in it and laid them out on a large towel as she sat opposite him.
“I’ve caught a couple of whiting. They’ll taste a treat with some new potatoes,” he continued, his tone inviting conversation as he balanced a frying pan over the fire and rested it on an iron rung.
“Where did you get the potatoes?”
“They’re canned. I’ve one large larder in the cottage full of everything you can think of so while there is fish in the sea and cans of food in that larder, we won’t starve.”
“Don’t you ever have fresh produce besides fish?” She grimaced then nearly gagged as Jack placed the fish on a chopping board and sliced off their heads with one swift movement of his long, sharp knife. He then began to skillfully fillet them.
When he glanced up, he must have noted the disdainful expression on her face and made a great show of removing the fish innards and tossing them to the waiting seagulls. “Sure. But I didn’t exactly plan to stop at the island this time around, or in such regal company.”
Her head shot up. “What do you mean? Regal?” Her voice was sharp with suspicion.
“Well, you seem pretty high and mighty,” he said, placing the fish pieces in the frying pan with a splash of cooking oil and giving a nod as they began to sizzle.
“Are you saying I’m a snob?” She drew the sleeping bag around her shoulders as she studied the strong planes and angles of his face vividly reflected in the flickering lights of the fire. He set a small pan of potatoes near the fish and sat back on his heels as if to admire his handy-work. His eyes lifted to meet hers and Lara felt her temperature rise. Whether it was from the heat of the fire or because of his analytical, yet teasing expression, she wasn’t sure.
“Yes, you probably are a snob,” he said at last.
“Why do you say that?”
“Think about it. You arrive at the quayside dressed to kill with five designer suitcases in tow. You see me, a poor working fisherman, and start to order me around as if I’m a lowly servant.”
She bit her lip at his blunt words. How dreadful that he should consider her in this way. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’d come from the race day in Port Margaret, that’s why I was dressed like that.”
Flipping the fish over in the pan, he continued his verbal attack. “Ah, so that explains your glamorous gear. You had been mixing with the snobby and rich racing set.”
“They weren’t snobby.”
“Many of them are.”
“Some of them, I suppose, and some of them are wealthy. You obviously have a problem with people who make a success of their lives.” She