The Lightkeeper's Woman. Mary Burton

      And her valise remained on Crowley’s boat. If Henry were going to be annoyed by her tardiness, he certainly would not appreciate her arriving home half-naked. “Do you have something more dignified than one of your shirts that I could wear?”

      He studied her a long moment, staring until she felt her cheeks blush. “I’ll scrounge pants and a sweater for you later,” he said finally. Clearly, her state of dress was of no import to him.

      His lack of concern annoyed her. It also frustrated her the firelight cast a glow on her, but he remained shadowed. She clutched the folds of the shirt tighter. “Could you find something for me now. It isn’t proper for me to be half-dressed and alone with you.”

      A tense silence settled between them. “There was a time when you didn’t mind being half-dressed when we were together. Or have you forgotten?”

      With aching clarity she remembered everything about their nights together. Too many nights, she’d lain awake remembering the way her skin tingled when he’d kissed the hollow of her neck, how her heart raced when his hand touched her thigh and the completeness she’d felt when he’d been inside her.

      He rose to his full six feet two inches. The dog rose and yawned.

      Caleb stepped out of the shadows and for the first time she saw his face. She saw the scar first. Jagged and raised, the scar stretched from the corner of his left eye down over his cheek to his jaw.

      Alanna stared at Caleb’s scar in stunned horror and then, hating herself for it, flinched. Her father had spoken in passing of Caleb’s injuries as if they were little more than scratches.

      Her father was wrong.

      Whatever had happened to Caleb was violent and agonizing.

      She shouldn’t have cared that he’d suffered but she did. Tears tightened her throat and several seconds passed before she trusted herself to meet his steely gaze.

      Caleb’s eyes were the same, blue as a winter sky, but they were sharper, more direct if that were possible. His shoulders looked broader and his hands larger.

      The lines around his full mouth and eyes were etched deeper. He’d tied back his black hair, accentuating streaks of gray at the temples. The rugged masculine features she’d once found so appealing had hardened into a chilling, unrecognizable mask.

      The anger drained from her face and she felt as if a soft breeze would topple her over. “Did you get the scar in the accident?”

      “Yes.”

      “Caleb, I had no idea.”

      “Why have you come?” His voice grated like sand against skin.

      Color flamed her face. Dear Lord, she should not have come. “I’m honoring my father’s will.”

      “What are you talking about? Your father hated me.”

      She reached for the box on the nightstand and held it out to him. “This is for you.”

      He made no move toward her. “You never listened to Obadiah when he was alive. It’s hard for me to see you traveling so far to see that his last wishes are observed.” He paused. “I can only conclude you came to see me.”

      The accuracy of his words goaded her temper.

      “Arrogance was always your downfall.”

      He nodded his head, acknowledging her statement. “And selfishness yours.”

      She stiffened.

      A low bitter laugh rumbled in his chest. “Let’s face it, Alanna. The only person you’ve ever looked after is yourself.”

      Her fingers tightened around the box. “How dare you!”

      “I’m not in the mood for the wounded dove act, Alanna. I don’t want anything from you and especially from your father,” he said. “I’ve already made that clear in writing. Or have you for gotten?”

      She glared at him, anger burning inside her. How could he be so ungrateful to the man who had brought him into his company? “Father treated you like a son.”

      “When it suited him,” he said tightly.

      “He saw that you met the right people and then, after the Intrepid, he tried to protect you.”

      Thunder cracked outside. Lightning flashed. For an instant she saw part of his face.

      “Is that what he told you?”

      “Yes.”

      He shook his head. “Obadiah never let truth get in the way of his goals.”

      She set the box back on the nightstand. “I was right to cut you off two years ago. The man I knew and loved died with the Intrepid.”

      He moved toward the door, and then paused.

      “And may he rest in peace.”

      Unexpected tears choked her throat. Fury turned to guilt. “Henry was right. This trip was a fool’s errand.”

      Caleb’s fingers tightened into a fist. “Henry Strathmore?”

      “Yes. And you might as well hear it from me. He’s asked me to marry him.”

      His shoulders stiffened. His gaze grew very, very cold. “And you accepted.”

      A shiver traveled down her spine. “I haven’t given him an answer.”

      “But you’ll say yes.”

      She folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

      “You’ll marry him.”

      “Don’t pretend to know me or my thoughts.”

      As if she hadn’t spoken, he said, “How long was I gone before Henry started sniffing around?”

      She watched his jaw tighten, then release, tighten. “Henry has always been a gentleman. He’s always been a good friend to me.”

      Challenge glimmered in his eyes. “What’d ol’ Henry say when you told him you were coming to see me?”

      The fire seeped from her body. She was silent. As always, Caleb had a knack for spotting weakness.

      Caleb laughed, but it held no humor. “I thought so. He doesn’t know you’re here.”

      Ducking her head, she touched her fingertips to her temple. It had started to throb. “He doesn’t need to know. He’d only worry unduly.”

      “Right.”

      As he stared at her, she felt foolish and silly as if she’d just stepped from the schoolroom. Drawing behind years of training, she summoned her most imperious tone. “I don’t appreciate your attitude.”

      Abruptly, he sighed, as if suddenly all the fight had fled from his body. “I really don’t care what you think about me or my attitude. As soon as the storm lets up, we leave for the mainland. And then we can put this miserable reunion behind us.”

      The dismissal stung. But instead of drawing inward when she was hurting, she did what she always did. She fought.

      Ready to stand toe-to-toe with him, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood—too quickly. Her head spun. She was going to black out. Her knees buckled. She started to fall.

      Strong hands saved her. For a moment, her heart hammered wildly in her chest. She was so aware of his fingers banding around her arms. Of his scent, and of his deep, rapid breathing.

      She wanted only to lean into him, to cry, and make the anger between them go away. And for an instant, she gave in to the yearning and leaned her head against his chest.

      His heart beat steady and strong. In Caleb’s arms, she’d always felt happy and secure.

      His body stiffened