least two blankets’ worth of faulty rows. Today, she would start once again.
First, though, she took Griff’s letters out of her bag. She carried them all with her, all the time. His voice came through so strongly, she could almost believe he stood beside her. And she needed him there.
She had kept her promise and answered every question he asked, which meant revealing her childhood, the years spent traveling, the isolated college days. He hadn’t responded with pity, however, which made each confession a bit easier. She’d asked a few questions in return, and the envelopes they sent back and forth were becoming increasingly heavier as their letters stretched to five and six pages. He always made her laugh. Sometimes, she thought they could spend their lives together in correspondence and be content.
Then there were the nights she woke up aching from a frustrated dream, only to lie for hours longing for Griff’s arms around her. His letters became torture, at that point—she could hear him and see him in her mind’s eye. But what she craved was his touch—warm, assured, erotic.
“You’re wearing that expression again,” her mother said in a sleepy voice.
Arden kept her eyes on her hands as she folded the letter and composed her face. Then she looked up. “What expression would that be?”
Lorraine shook her head. “Why don’t you just ask him to come? Haven’t both of you been punished enough?”
“Punished?” The word struck her as completely wrong…and then, in the next moment, completely right.
Of course she deserved to suffer, after the way she’d treated Griff. And maybe she’d wanted to punish him for his anger. For sending her away.
But surely punishment didn’t have to last forever. She and her mother were working to forgive. Was there a chance that Griff could offer forgiveness, too?
GRIFF TIED THE RENTED speedboat to the dock on Chaos Key and headed across the beach to the path through the trees he had followed with Arden four months ago.
At least, he hoped he’d found the same path. He wouldn’t appreciate the irony if he showed up without warning, only to get lost in the jungle and die of snakebite or starvation or alligator attack. Jaguars, maybe. Who knew what wild animals lurked in the underbrush? Besides Igor.
Then he remembered the security system and felt better. She would see him on the monitors at some point and come to rescue him.
He hoped.
Once the old mansion appeared on his right, his sense of direction improved. Or maybe some kind of mystic connection was leading him straight to Arden. At least he was going the right way.
Her little cottage came into sight just a few minutes later, shaded by live oak trees from the late afternoon sun. His gut clenched with nerves and anticipation. With sixty days of desolation behind him, he hated to take anything for granted.
But she wouldn’t have asked him to come just to tell him to leave her alone, right?
Lifting his hand to knock on the porch door, he hesitated. Would Igor come tearing out to rip him up? They never had managed to make friends, even after the rescue. Griff still had scars on his leg from the last bite.
“Aw, hell,” he muttered, knocking anyway. Igor would need a minute or so to chew through the screen. Griff could be up in a tree before he got out.
The woman who stepped onto the porch was a stranger. She didn’t have a dog with her.
“Hello,” she said. “Looking for someone?” Her blond hair was cut pixie short; her pale skin flushed with pink. A tall woman, she wore a bright turquoise muumuu that ended above her ankles, but not because she was heavy. Her collarbones showed plainly above the neck of the dress and her arms below the short sleeves were bone thin.
He recognized her eyes, though—the shape and set of them, the stormy green color. Arden might have inherited her dad’s dark hair and ivory skin, but she had her mother’s eyes.
“I’m Griff Campbell,” he told her. “Are you Lorraine?”
She held the door open for him to step inside the porch. “That’s right. Lorraine Burke.”
He shook the hand she offered, noticing the sharp bones. “Glad to meet you. Arden says you’re feeling better.”
Her smile was Arden’s, too. “I am, thanks. But that’s not what you want to talk about right now, is it? She’s down at the beach with the dog.”
“Thanks.”
Back at the main path, he took the turn leading to the western side of the island, where they’d