The water dampening his hair and face only made him more beautiful. Behind him mayhem raged—lightning striking the ocean in feral zigzags.
“Uh . . .” she said dumbly, having trouble making sense of this.
He stepped inside.
The wind pushed against the door, and she had to shove it closed, cutting off some of the violent noise.
He wore a gray sweater and jeans beneath a khaki coat. “Remy,” he said in a deceptively conversational tone, “I think you might’ve forgotten to mention to me that you were returning home.”
She blinked. “No indeed. I didn’t forget. I made a strategic choice not to mention it.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want to argue about it. Also because I’m not obligated to run my decisions by you.” She pushed her shoulders back. “Why are you here?”
“Because this is where you are.” He looked her straight in the face while gently extracting an inch-long curl of wood from her topknot. “If this is where you are, then this is the only place I want to be.”
Her imaginary ladies in waiting collapsed onto chaise lounges in romantic delight, their hands on their chests.
“Would it be all right with you,” he said, “if I move back in?”
Heat flushed up her neck. “Absolutely not.” It had been one thing to host him when he’d been weak and incapacitated. But now that he was brimming with strength? No.
“I’ll sleep on the blow-up mattress in the office,” he suggested.
“Absolutely not.”
“Okay. I’ll stay with Leigh.”
“Leigh? Leigh’s house is . . . rustic.” That was the most charitable way to phrase it.
“You think I’m too pampered to hack it there.”
“After seeing your house, I think you’re too pampered to hack it anywhere other than the Ritz-Carlton.”
“Leigh’s house is near your house. So, I’ll like it.”
“How long are you intending to stay?”
“As long as I want.”
She tossed out her arms. “You can’t just invite yourself into Leigh’s house and stay on Islehaven for as long as you want. It’s too much to ask! Even more importantly, there arenumerous pressing questionsthat need your attention back in Groomsport right now.”
“Screw those questions. This is where I feel the most peace.”
“You have to go back.”
“No, I don’t.” A molasses smile curved his lips as the air crackled. “I’m not obligated to run my decisions by you.” He'd turned her earlier statement back on her.
She spluttered. This was insane.
She wanted to kill him. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to kill and kiss him. She earnestlydid not wanta break from him, but sheshouldtake a break from him for her sanity. She needed to immerse herself in her work and get back in touch with herself and get over him. How was she supposed to do any of that when he was around?
“I’m retired from racing,” he said. “I have money. I can do whatever I want.”
“You’re crazy.”
“This from the woman who makes sculptures inspired by magical women living in the Black Forest?” he asked with affection.
