LITMIR.BIZ

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he done to win them over? Given his reputation it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he’d seduced them. Adel was close to fifty if she was a day, but she was lean and strong and probably closer to his age than Zhanna.

      But Zhanna was young and beautiful and exotic. The perfect target for a man on the prowl. Had he had his way with both? And if they were that loyal, did it mean he was that good?

      Gabby shook the image from her head. Sex—especially Jamison having sex—was the last thing she needed in her head, combining with all the stuff about him in there. She’d had a crush on him, she’d been hurt by him. She’d even cried tears over him. Hell, she’d had a whole relationship with the man and she’d never met him until last night.

      Bottom line was none of it mattered. Her crush, her anger, her wounds…none of it. She was over him, over the infatuation. She needed to be if she going to be objective in helping him tell his story.

      Gabby Haines was a professional and she would act like one. Even if it meant working with and getting to know a man who was—she had to face it—a liar.

      Gabby hated liars. She’d had enough of them in her life. From the father who always said he would come to see her after the divorce, but didn’t, to her fiancé who said he loved her, but didn’t, to her half sister who said she hadn’t meant to fall in love with Gabby’s fiancé, but did.

      When Susan brought the toast out it was exactly as ordered—dry and consequently difficult to eat. Or it might have been thinking about Kim and Brad that left a bad taste in Gabby’s mouth. Fortunately, the quality of the coffee almost made up for it. Either way she had enough fuel to start her day.

      Brand-new start plus good coffee equals a great day, every time.

      She had parked the rental car on the street in front of the B and B, but that didn’t seem to bother anyone. There were no posted signs about places and times to park. Definitely not like Manhattan where there was a plethora of signs telling people where they couldn’t park—among other things—and people choosing to disobey those signs.

      Looking at the practical beige Ford rental, Gabby couldn’t help but remember the powder blue Beemer with gray leather interior she’d bought herself as her thirtieth birthday present. It had been a declaration of her success and she loved driving it. But once she’d decided to move to New York City, it was clear she didn’t need a car. So, her heart breaking one more time, she’d sold it and used the money to help pay the rent on her apartment in Brooklyn until she found a job.

      Besides, after losing her job, she’d felt like a fraud in the car. It was a reflection of everything she had been, but no longer was. Its perfection ridiculed her whenever she got behind the wheel.

      Look everyone. See how far Gabby Haines has fallen.

      Not allowing herself to descend into doom and gloom mode, she focused on the task at hand.

      Jamison’s house was about ten minutes up a winding road from where the main street cut through the island. On the map there were only four documented roads that crisscrossed the island leading north, south, east or west from the main street that occupied the epicenter. In reality, there were also a number of smaller roads that looked more like paved driveways, which led to the scattering of homes and cabins peppering the tiny island.

      Jamie’s house was situated on what must be the highest point of the island. That position probably guaranteed him a view of the water from the second level of the house. It also set him far apart from the other homes guaranteeing no neighbors within at least a half a mile of the place.

      Perfect for a recluse.

      Parking the car where she had last night, Gabby didn’t relish climbing the stairs again. Nor did she anticipate a friendlier welcome simply because it was morning.

      So how did a person go about striking up a conversation with someone when said target would not allow her into his home?

      Confront him outside his home.

      It seemed plausible. Your basic run of the mill, bump into you, hey, good to see you again, type of moment. Gabby peered through the windshield and spotted the dirt path which must be his driveway. She could hang out in her car, wait for him to leave, follow him to wherever he was going then pounce when he least expected it.

      What if he’d already left to go to work? Did he even have a job?

      She would ask him when they spoke. She couldn’t imagine what he would do on this island. The man had been an astronaut for crying out loud. How did anyone, disgraced hero or not, come down from a job like that?

      She didn’t picture him selling screwdrivers in the local hardware store or flipping burgers for Adel. There wasn’t much else in the way of labor on the island. It was possible he ferried to the mainland daily, but the commute would be enough of a hassle to outweigh the privacy of island living.

      Since there was no point waiting for someone who wasn’t even home to leave, Gabby got out of the car.

      Wind whipped around her and she snuggled into her winter coat. She’d worn jeans and a sweater today, adapting to the local climate. But the only real practical shoes she had were her loafers. She had packed sneakers since step two in her new life was to transform her body and she had the vague notion that daily, hour-long speed walks would accomplish that. But she couldn’t fathom the idea of using them for any other purpose than to work out. Did Barbara Walters interview people while wearing sneakers? Did Oprah? Certainly not.

      Her feet managed to go from cozy to frigid in minutes, but she didn’t let it stop her. She walked up the dirt driveway making sure to stay to one side in case a vehicle came down and she had to make an emergency dive into the bushes.

      She laughed at that image of herself attempting to hide in the foliage as Jamison approached. She suspected her feet in the air might give her away. Still she clung to her plan as she climbed—or more accurately stumbled since the loafers provided little traction—up the driveway.

      Gabby couldn’t help but wonder what type of car he might have. Something sleek and fast. High performing and responsive. A man who had flown jet fighters would need something to keep up with him, wouldn’t he?

      What if he had a motorcycle?

      The image of him on a bike, flying down the road without fear or caution seemed accurate. Definitely a motorcycle, she decided. Or, at the very least, a convertible.

      Which is why the old white truck was such a letdown. It sat alone at the top of the driveway parked a short distance from the house. Gabby remembered the dog from last night and listened for the sound of barking to announce her presence, but she heard nothing.

      A dumpy, old white truck. Not fast, sleek or high performing. Maybe when he’d walked away from his former life he felt he needed to go to extremes. This truck was it. And a pretty good symbol of a man who once had everything and now had nothing.

      Yeah, when they did finally talk, they were going to have a lot in common.

      A muffled woof startled her. The sound wasn’t close and followed by an even softer bark, so she could tell it was moving away from her.

      Circling the vehicle she looked toward the house and could see the new deck extending from the rear. The deck McKay Publishing paid for apparently.

      In the summer it would provide a magnificent vista of green leaves and blue water. But the leaves had yet to come out and all she saw was a barren landscape leading down a hill to what she imagined was a narrow shoreline. The gray water seemed to blend with the overcast sky.

      “Shep. Come on, old man.”

      Gabby instinctively ducked at the sound of Jamison’s voice, not sure she was ready to announce her presence. She could see he was already heading down the hill that ran away from his house. She spied the top of his head, then a few seconds later his dog followed.

      The dog stopped briefly, turning his head in her direction, but another command from Jamison had Shep moving forward tentatively, until eventually his master met

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