Shaking his head, Declan rolled his eyes. “That was a fair imitation of Ryder, darlin’. But you had me all wrong.”
“Don’t change the subject.” She sighed and leaned her chin on one fist. “I just don’t understand.”
“Let me talk to him again. I’ll get him to come ’round.” Or he’d bloody the stubborn SOB’s nose.
“Well, he’s an expert, so make him…expert something. Would it help if I talked to him?” Her voice was taut and ended a little on the shrill side.
Declan sighed and rubbed one hand along the back of his neck. Remembering the way Ryder’s hard-on had tented his pants when he’d first met Taite, Declan wasn’t sure it was a good idea, especially since Ryder didn’t seem very happy with his attraction to her.
Or maybe that was it. Ryder had been alone so long he probably didn’t remember what to do with a woman. Declan grinned. Taite could be just the thing for his old friend.
Declan knew he had to get through to Ryder, or they were in deep shit. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the werewolf would somehow find them here on the island. The damned thing had tracked them to Atlanta, after all. “Not if you’re gonna be a fishwife, which is what you’re soundin’ like, darlin’,” he said in answer to her question.
She frowned, then her lips curved into a small grin. “I was sounding a bit shrewish there, wasn’t I?” She inhaled deeply, letting the air out in a rush. “I just don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“I know.” Declan leaned forward and took her hands in his. They were soft and warm, and she gripped his fingers tightly. “Listen, I’ll go back and talk to Ryder again. He used deadlines as an excuse for not bein’ able to help, but I’ve a feelin’ there’s more to it than that.” Releasing her hands, he stood and placed his palm on her slender shoulder. “Will you be okay on your own for a wee bit?”
She nodded, staring at the table. When she looked up, tears glazed her eyes. Frowning, she swiped at the moisture. “Dammit, this is making me a cry baby. Do what you can, Declan. If it turns out we have to read books, then we’d better get started.”
“Chin up, darlin’.” He leaned down and hugged her. Just as her arms wrapped around his waist and she pressed her face into his side, he heard footsteps behind him and a slight shuffle as if shoes had skidded to a stop.
Keeping one arm around her shoulders, he turned to see Ryder standing there, a dark scowl on his face.
“Just the man I wanted to see,” Declan said, frowning right back at his friend. “We need to talk.”
A muscle flexed in Ryder’s jaw. Declan recognized that look—it meant the other man was irritated about something. Tough. He was liable to become even angrier before Declan was through with him.
“Is it all right if I take a walk around the grounds before it gets dark? I’ve been cooped up on an airplane most of the day.” Taite started to slide off the bench.
Declan moved back so she’d have room. When she was standing, he slid his arm back around her shoulders and hugged her to his side, offering support in the only way he could for now.
Ryder’s eyes narrowed and his lips thinned, though his voice sounded normal enough as he said, “If you go outside of the landscaped area, be careful, especially along the coves. The rocks can be slippery.” He nodded toward the back door. “Cobb’s hung your coat there on the hooks.” With a glance at Declan, he turned on his heel. “Let’s go back to my office.”
Taite watched the two men as they left the kitchen. Biting her lower lip, she wondered at Ryder’s reaction upon seeing her and Declan together. His face had suggested he was jealous of their proximity, but that couldn’t be right. He didn’t even know her, and he’d sure as hell made it clear they were unwelcome.
Even if he’d been aroused when she met him, she didn’t know that she was the reason for it. And while part of her was thrilled to think she could cause such a strong reaction, another part of her hoped he’d just been watching porn or flipping through a girly magazine.
With her own personal stalker, she had enough problems with men and their desires. She didn’t need another complication.
She wouldn’t be surprised if Ryder asked them to leave first thing in the morning. And that little man Cobb would probably be down on the docks helping push the boat off. Oh, he was polite enough, but she suspected it was more a matter of professionalism than any genuinely felt courtesy.
God, she was tired. She’d gotten precious little sleep over the last several months, but especially this past week. Even so, she was too wired and it was too early to go to bed just yet. Getting some exercise should help.
Walking over to the back door, she took her coat from the peg and shrugged into it. Once she’d zipped it up, she reached into one of the big oversized front pockets and pulled out the pedometer she’d insisted on buying before they reached LaGuardia.
One thing she’d discovered about werewolves was they caused a lot of stress. And she dealt with stress by power walking. She was up to fifteen thousand steps a day, which was five thousand more than the recommended amount. Rain or shine, she walked. If the weather didn’t permit her to be outdoors, she got on the treadmill or did stairs.
Today she’d be walking around an isolated island off the coast of Cornwall. “Who’d a-thunk it?” she muttered and pulled open the door.
Cool November wind gusted, scattering leaves around the small stone patio. Taite went outside and quickly closed the door behind her to keep anything from blowing inside the house. Cobb already didn’t want them there—he’d be less than thrilled to walk into his pristine kitchen and find twigs and leaves on the floor.
A white cast aluminum bistro set squatted on one side of the patio, and a cobblestone path led through what would probably be a beautiful garden come spring. Taite set off down the path, hands in her pockets, starting at a leisurely pace until her muscles could warm up.
The little trail meandered through the garden where a few flowers still bloomed, then ran alongside the lawn, parallel to the woods. Once the lawn ended, however, the walkway became little more than a packed dirt footpath.
She loved it. Even from where she was, she could hear the crash of the ocean against the rock-strewn shore and the riotous cry of the seabirds. It even smelled different here, a combination of the salty sea in the air and something with an aroma remarkably like sage. Some native plant, she supposed. As the path became rougher, she pulled her hands out of her pockets so she could better balance herself.
Rounding a bend, she came upon a small inlet. She picked her way over and around rocks. The waves lapped gently against the shore, and she stopped at the sloping edge, staring out over an ocean that glittered in the sun as if the great width was covered in a mammoth, diamond-studded net.
Here at the water’s edge it was colder. She huddled into her jacket, her hands once more in her pockets. In spite of the wildness of this place, she felt more at peace than she had in a long time. Maybe it was because she felt safe for the first time in weeks. Once she’d left Tucson she hadn’t had to worry about her stalker, and she and Declan had given the werewolf the slip after he’d caught up with them in Atlanta. She only hoped the old myth about werewolves not being able to cross water was true.
She stopped, frowning. Or was that a myth about vampires?
Damn. She didn’t have a clue about any of this crap. If Ryder didn’t help, she didn’t know what she’d do.
Ryder. A shiver that had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with sex worked its way down her spine and wrapped deeply around her womb. Her nipples tightened and she squeezed her thighs together against the sudden ache in her core.
She did not need this complication,