A Perfect Cornish Escape by Phillipa Ashley Page 0,22

turned his eyes on her. ‘I’ve already done the dirty work.’

‘Good for you,’ Tiff muttered, crouching by the tub again so she didn’t have to behold the monumentally annoying hotness on the other side of the fence. The way he said ‘dirty work’ had almost made her gasp.

‘Enjoy your gardening,’ he said. ‘Probably a good idea to stick to geraniums rather than potatoes. I look forward to bidding on the bikini wax.’

‘What?’ Tiff glanced up sharply but only glimpsed the back of his head before he vanished. All that was left was a whistled rendition of what sounded suspiciously like ‘Mars’ from The Planets suite. The bringer of war …

Out of nowhere, an image of Dirk’s face flew into her mind. She’d seen him in a photo, devastated and broken … on a dark night but with lights all around him. It was a photo taken in London. The full picture was within her grasp but she was also distracted by his taunts about the auction.

She’d half-feared he’d heard her whingeing to Marina and now it was obvious he’d overheard some of their private conversation. Mind you, she had been rather vocal and forthright.

‘Right, Mr Dirk ’n’ Stormy,’ she muttered under her breath. ‘You just wait. I’ll show you.’ She was a doer, used to using all legitimate methods to get what she wanted. Snaffling a knockout ‘money couldn’t buy prize’ for the auction should be well within her reach.

Marina returned with the vermiculite, which turned out to be a bag of magic growing grit, and Tiff tried to focus on the petunias. However, despite her best intentions, she couldn’t help but wonder what exactly did turn Dirk on and, more importantly, what lurked beneath his clearly angry shell.

Chapter Six

Marina had only the birds for company when she went straight from work to do an early evening stint at the lookout station. Gulls wheeled overhead and she could hear the distinctive cry of the choughs as they flew around feeding their babies on the cliffs. Term was in full swing again and she’d been lecturing that morning, before attending a faculty meeting and doing some marking.

Her fellow watcher had called in sick at the last minute, and while she didn’t really mind having the station to herself, it was obviously more tiring to keep watch alone. When the station had first opened all those years before, she’d found herself dwelling a lot on Nate and what might have happened to him.

From time to time, she also found the swimmer from the beach – though she ought to think of him as Lachlan – stealing into her mind. She’d seen him a couple of times from a distance but no other acknowledgement apart from the nod. This was unusual on Coastguard Terrace where all the permanent residents knew each other, and even some of the second homers had become friends. But he’d already demonstrated that he wanted to keep himself to himself and that was fine.

So she almost did a double take when he appeared in the sights while she’d been scanning a collapsed section of the coast path for walkers. She put the binoculars down and looked at him with her naked eye. This time he wasn’t in trunks, but jeans and a hoodie. He came from the direction of the Lizard and was obviously heading back to his cottage. Or so she thought. Instead of walking in front of the station, he vanished which could only mean one thing.

The path ran directly in front and below the station, with a short detour up to the building itself. Most of the time, they left the door open, welcoming visitors, most of whom were happy to leave a small donation for funds. A few seconds later, she heard him climb the steps and reappear in the doorway. After rebuffing her invitation, he was the last person she expected to visit.

‘Hello!’ he called from the lobby next to the staff area at the rear of the station. ‘Am I disturbing you?’

‘No, come in!’ she called.

He walked into the operations area, where Marina smiled a welcome, wondering what he wanted. It was such a surprise to see him after he’d brushed off her previous attempt to engage with him.

‘You’re on your own up here?’ He scanned the room as if someone might be hiding.

‘Yes, but only for this shift. The retired coastguard who was supposed to watch with me has gone down with shingles, poor guy. It’s not ideal, but otherwise the station