Quinn’s sister Cammie (Cameron) was working with me on the interior design of the guesthouse. “I know Cammie.”
“Aye. Anyway.” He gestured to the house. “You’re stuck with me here for a while.”
It was quite diplomatic of him, considering his real thought was probablyI’m stuck with you here for a while.
“I’m sorry. Quinn said … I’m sorry for trespassing.”
He nodded. “Quinn. Anyway, it happens. Until the council gives me the go-ahead to put barriers up at the causeway, it’ll keep happening.”
“Why won’t they let you?”
“I own the island, not the causeway.”
“Right.”
Akiva barked from her spot on the porch.
Ramsay jerked his chin. “Tea? Coffee?”
“Sure. Thanks.” I started after him. Now that I’d spent a couple of minutes in his presence, he didn’t give off the would-be killer vibes after all. However, I was still a woman alone with a strange man twice my size on an island. Trapped.
I reminded myself he was Quinn’s partner and the likelihood of Ramsay doing anything nefarious was slight.
“Nice Defender,” I said to his back.
Ramsay glanced over his shoulder, his attention swinging from me to my Suzuki. “Aye.” He turned to open the front door and I was pretty sure I heard him mutter, “You could see yours from space.”
Frowning, I looked back at my little SUV.
Okay, so she was vivid. But I liked her. I’d even painted my nails to match.
Ramsay held the door open for me and when I met his stunning gaze again, he seemed to read my mind because his lips twitched ever so slightly. As if I amused him.
I murmured my thanks, but when he closed the door, a sudden panic tightened my chest and my grip on my backpack.
Perhaps he heard my intake of breath because he said as he reached for something on the wall, “Signal on the island is patchy at best and nonexistent inside the house.” I realized he had what appeared to be a walkie-talkie in his hand. “This is a VHF radio handset, and it patches into the same frequency as the voluntary lifeboat service back on Leth Sholas,” he explained as he held my stare and pressed a button on the handset. “Half-Light, this is McRae. Over.”
The handset crackled and a woman’s voice sounded in the house. “McRae, this is Half-Light. Annie here. Problem on Stòr? Over.”
Still holding me in that startling gaze of his, Ramsay replied, “The new guesthouse owner got caught out by the tide times. She’s here with me in case anyone is looking for her. I’ll get her back safely tonight. Over.”
Warmth suffused my cheeks when I realized what he was doing.
He sensed my unease at being alone with a strange man in his cabin in the woods.
He was letting someone else know where I was for my sake.
If Annie at the voluntary lifeboat service thought this interaction odd, she didn’t let on. “Understood. Enjoy your guest. Over.” Laughter rumbled in her voice like she knew he’d find me a complete inconvenience.
Ramsay smirked and I huffed, even though relief loosened my shoulders and my grip on my pack. “Sure. Over.” He held up the handset to me and pointed to a button. “This is the button you press if you need to contact Leth Sholas.”
“Thanks.”
He hooked the handset back on the wall and strode past me. Akiva bounded excitedly around his legs, and I understood why when he pulled a can of dog food out of the cupboard. As he fed the Malamute, I finally took in my surroundings.
It was a large open-plan space with vaulted ceilings—a kitchen, dining, office, and a living area. There was plenty of lighting, but it had the dull glow of energy-saving bulbs. I wondered if he had another bank of solar panels somewhere powering the home.
There were no paintings on the walls, no artwork, no photographs. No cushions or throws on the large leather sectional. No rugs on the floor. No television in sight.
