Return to Magnolia Harbor - Hope Ramsay Page 0,67

fine. We’ll be back home shortly.”

The sailors aboard the patrol boat waved and headed west, leaving them.

“Look,” he said, allowing himself to gaze at her, “I’m sure someone is going to gossip about this, but we both know that we were out on the island for professional reasons.”

She cocked her head. Would she mention his kiss or her tears? He waited, hoping, but she didn’t. She nodded her agreement instead.

“Good. We’re on the same page, then,” he said, and set a course for the harbor.

When they reached the marina, she left the boat quickly, without a lot of chitchat. So he was right. She was scared and running for her life. He didn’t blame her.

He stood in the cockpit and watched her walk away, knowing himself for a fool. Maybe he should have forced the issue. Maybe if he’d seduced her, she might—

No.

It had to be her choice. Nothing else would do.

He let go of a bitter laugh, remembering something that Erik Sokal, his ex-business partner, had said to him when he’d first seen the scars. Erik, who’d never been terribly sensitive or politically correct, had told Topher it was a good thing he had money. Because women found money attractive.

Yeah. He knew a lot of women like that. But they weren’t the ones he wanted in his life. And he certainly didn’t want to buy Jessica’s affection.

He shook his head and went back to work tidying the boat. When everything was shipshape, he made the long, painful walk down the pier to his car.

It was almost noon by the time he got back to Rose Cottage. He found his spot on the porch and started making calls.

Erik was call number one. His ex-partner came on the line with an enthusiastic greeting. “Hey, man, how are you doing? Have you had a chance to take Bachelor’s Delight out?”

“Yeah. Just came back from a long sail. She’s pretty sweet. Look, I need a favor.”

“Whatever it is.”

“I know you have contacts with most of the heavy hitters in the real estate sector. I need to figure out what Representative Caleb Tate is up to.”

“Oh. Is he up to something?”

“Yes. The other night he told me there was a consortium that’s planning a big development out here on Jonquil Island. I got the feeling it was hush-hush. I tried to get details, but he was as vague as a politician can be.”

“You want to know who the other players are?”

“I want to know everything. I’m trying to figure out what a state representative is doing up to his neck in a secret development scheme. He seemed to be looking for capital.”

“Can I ask why you care?”

“I’m living out here these days, Erik. And Jonquil Island is a paradise. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“There was a time when all you cared about was the return on investment.”

“I’m a different man now.”

“I’m on it. Anything for you, man.”

“Keep this inquiry quiet, okay?”

“Sure.”

“And I need the information as quick as you can get it.”

“Aye, Cap’n,” Erik said.

They spent a few more minutes talking about old times and common friends and acquaintances, but Topher abruptly ended the call when Ashley emerged from Howland House’s back door and headed across the rose garden looking like a woman on a mission.

He stood up and met her at the porch stairs. “Hey,” he said. “In case you’ve come to give me grief for taking the boat out yesterday, you should know that when the weather got bad, we battened down the hatches and stayed put on the island. I was never in any danger. And I wasn’t alone.”

“You were with someone?”

Oh God, he’d stepped in it. But he was going to stick with the story. “I sailed out there with Jessica Blackwood.”

“Oh, I should have known. The house.” She said the word as if it was the vilest curse in the universe.

“We were fine. I was fine. Everything was under control.” Sort of.

“Okay, but it might surprise you that I didn’t come out here to bawl you out or to nag you.”

“No?” He managed a smile.

“No. I came out here in desperation.”

“Really?” He leaned on the porch rail.

“I have a favor to ask.”

He tried not to grin. He’d never had any leverage over his older cousin. If he were a different sort of man, he’d walk away from her. But life was built on favors. He’d done plenty of them, and he’d called in chits when it mattered.

“How can I be of service?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes.

“I

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