Secrets of His Own. Amanda Stevens

shot through her as she tried to tear her arm from his grip. “Let me go! Someone’s in the water!”

      He held her fast. “Take it easy, okay? It’s not a body.”

      “But I saw—”

      “Trust me, you don’t want to jump in that water. Just stand back.”

      Releasing her, he bent to pick up a metal pole that had been discarded near the side of the pool. Plunging it into the filthy water, he dragged the bottom where Carrie had seen the body. As he parted the water and stirred away dead leaves, she caught another glimpse of the outstretched arms.

      Sick with dread and fear, she watched him maneuver the pole beneath the lifeless form and pull it up to the surface.

      He was right. It wasn’t a body. He was able to lift it too easily. But Carrie couldn’t stop shaking even when she saw that what he’d snagged with the pole was an old shirt.

      Stepping back up to the edge, she peered into the water, praying that nothing else was down there. But the flash of white she’d spotted earlier had indeed been nothing more than fabric. Somehow the shirt must have floated open on the bottom of the pool, making her think that she was seeing arms and a torso.

      Behind her, the man tossed the pole out of the way, and the loud clang of metal against stone caused Carrie to jump.

      She turned in embarrassment. “You must think I’m an idiot.”

      “It was an honest mistake.”

      His voice was deep and strangely unsettling. And his eyes…

      My God, Carrie thought. She’d never seen a pair of colder, bleaker eyes.

      Except…

      She blinked away the memory as she found herself at a complete loss for words. She didn’t usually rattle so easily, but after days of worrying about Tia and then spotting what she thought was a dead body in the pool…it was all taking a toll on her poise.

      And now that deadly stare.

      She glanced away. “I’m not usually so excitable. But I came all the way out here to see my friend and no one seems to know where she is.” She paused, then said apologetically, “Not that you have any idea what I’m talking about. Maybe we should start over. I’m Carrie Bishop.”

      She started to extend her hand, then thought better of it. Did she really want to make physical contact with a man whose eyes seemed to pierce right through her soul? “You’re not by chance Ethan Stone?” she asked hopefully.

      His expression remained stoic, but a shadow flickered in his eyes. “Not even close. I’m Nick Draco.”

      Nick Draco. Carrie rolled the name around in her head. It sounded familiar for some reason. Had Tia written about him in her letter? “Do you live on the island, Mr. Draco?”

      “For as long as the job holds out.”

      Ah. Now she knew who he was. He was the carpenter Cochburn had told her about. That would certainly explain his dark suntan and the muscles she could see bulging through his shirtsleeves.

      “Mr. Cochburn mentioned that he’d hired someone to renovate the house.” She glanced up at the crumbling mansion. “You certainly have your work cut out for you. It’s a beautiful place, but it looks as if it could take years to restore.”

      “I’m here to plug a few leaks. I doubt Cochburn has much more than that in mind.”

      His gaze never left Carrie’s face. Tiny shivers raced up and down her spine. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had affected her so strongly. She wanted to look away again, but his eyes were almost hypnotic.

      “Why did you think I was Stone?” he asked suddenly.

      She shrugged. “I was looking for him earlier and when I turned and saw you standing there, I guess I just assumed you were he. Sorry for the confusion.”

      “No harm done.”

      Without another word, he started to turn away, but Carrie said, “No, don’t go. I’d like to ask you something.”

      He waited reluctantly, one brow lifting as his gaze connected with hers again.

      “As I said, I came out here looking for my friend…Tia Falcon. Do you know her?”

      “Brown hair…about your size?” His eyes dropped slowly, then lifted. “I’ve seen her around.”

      Carrie tried to ignore the ripples in the pit of her stomach. “Do you remember the last time you saw her?”

      He thought for a moment. “A few days ago, I guess.”

      “Are you sure it wasn’t more recent?” she asked anxiously.

      He frowned. “Could have been, I guess. I can’t say for sure. I stay pretty busy around here. I don’t keep track of who comes and goes.”

      Somehow Carrie doubted that. She had a feeling Nick Draco missed very little of what went on around him. “But it’s such a small island. If a boat came out here to pick her up, you would have seen it, surely? Or at least heard the engine?”

      “Not necessarily. Depends on where I happened to be at the time.” He studied her for a moment. “You seem pretty worried about your friend. Was she expecting you?”

      “No. I didn’t have any way to let her know that I was coming.”

      “Then maybe she went back to the mainland for a few days.”

      “That’s what Mr. Cochburn said.” Carrie wrapped her arms around her middle. “But I just can’t help feeling that something is wrong.”

      His gray-blue eyes watched her intently. “Are you suggesting she met with foul play?”

      The blunt query took Carrie aback even though she’d been dancing around the same question in her own mind for days. She’d had a premonition that Tia was in trouble ever since she’d received that strange phone call in the middle of the night. No, before that even. The uneasiness had started when Tia had fled her own wedding.

      Up until that point Carrie hadn’t wanted to give credence to her doubts about Trey Hollinger, but when she thought back to the way his temper had exploded after learning he’d been left at the altar, she was hard-pressed to believe he hadn’t played some role in Tia’s running away.

      His anger had been over the top that day, and Carrie suspected that if she’d been alone with him, his rage might even have escalated into violence. She hated to admit it, but he’d frightened her. And she didn’t frighten easily these days. Or at least, she rarely let herself succumb to her fears.

      She couldn’t help wondering if Tia had witnessed that side of Trey, too. Had she glimpsed something in her handsome fiancé that had scared her so badly she hadn’t dared face him on their wedding day? Had she been running from Trey when she came out here?

      Was she still running from him?

      Carrie had a vision of Tia’s battered body lying in the bushes somewhere. Or underwater, her wrists and ankles tied to weights.

      After everything she’d been through to come to that fate…

      A fist of fear closed around Carrie’s heart. For one split second, she thought she might actually be sick.

      “Are you okay?”

      She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I’m just worried about Tia. Mr. Cochburn thought that she might have gotten a ride back to the mainland with Carlos Lazario. Have you seen him today?”

      “No, but Carlos couldn’t have taken her back. His boat has a broken fuel pump. He’s waiting on a part from the mainland.”

      “I…see.” Until that moment, Carrie hadn’t realized how desperately she’d been hoping for a logical explanation for Tia’s absence. Now the last