Chapter 7 #2
He parked in a shady spot near a grassy area dotted with palms.
"I’ll leave the car running," he said, "so you’ll have the AC. I shouldn’t be long. I’m going to try to plant more than one bug but we’ll see how it goes."
"Okay, good luck," she said.
She watched him walk around the ice cream shop, toward the pier. Nash Stone intrigued her on so many levels. His crisp white shirt couldn't obscure the strength in his shoulders or the muscles in his arms, but it wasn't his athletic physique that made her feel safe. It was . . . something else.
Nutmeg jumped down onto the floorboard, and then back up on the seat and back down on the floorboard again. He was whimpering. Perfect timing. She needed to let him walk around in the grass. Pronto.
Nash would have a fit, but only if he saw her. Surely he didn’t want Nutmeg to do his business in the SUV. She’d stay on the grass by the trees. She couldn't see Emil's yacht from their shady spot. Shouldn’t be a problem.
She clasped the leash on Nutmeg, and they hopped out. Nutmeg was very happy to be in the grass, but he sniffed around for a ridiculous amount of time before taking care of the business that seemed so urgent just moments ago.
The weather was gorgeous. The ocean view, breathtaking. She pretended, for a moment, that she was on vacation. Isadora was really the most lovely island she’d ever visited, and she’d been to a few. It was quiet, sparsely populated, unspoiled. The water was a magnificent, translucent blue-green.
She kept her distance from the tranquil waves for now, but maybe this evening she and Nutmeg could take a walk on the beach back at Emil's house. Surely that would be safe, right? If not, she could ask Nash to come along.
Her stomach did a half-flip at the thought of a walk on the beach with Nash.
On second thought, that wasn’t a good idea.
He was kind and patient and respectful and handsome, and she was beginning to trust him.
But he was working undercover investigating Emil Van Horn, and she was only here to find Cassidy.
She needed to get her cousin home and figure out what she was going to do about the rest of her problems.
Cassidy’s safety came first. One crisis at a time. And she didn’t need Nash Stone and his attractive smile complicating things.
Nutmeg continued to sniff around the bases of the palms like a bloodhound. She hated to end what looked like an enjoyable outing for him, but it would probably be best if they were safe inside the car before Nash came back.
"Oh, hello," came a voice from beyond the palms.
She looked up. Straight into the face of Emil Van Horn.
"Oh, hi," she said.
Emil approached her, Nash close on his heels.
Emil smiled. "How is little Nutmeg behaving for you?"
Nothing weird happening here at all. Just act natural. "Oh, just fine. He’s very sweet."
"Pardon me, my manners," said Emil. He stretched out his hand. "Emil Van Horn. Victoria Van Horn is my aunt. I hear you'll be staying at the house for a couple of weeks, taking care of Nutmeg. Did Delphine get you settled?"
"Oh yes. She's been very nice."
"Good." His eyes traveled over her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable.
She watched Nash just a few feet away. His expression remained stoic, but a protruding vein in his neck throbbed beneath his reddening face.
Lena picked up Nutmeg. "Well, sorry to bother you. Nash said he needed to stop by. We were on our way to get some supplies."
"Oh yes, yes," said Emil. "No bother. I’m glad you dropped by."
His inappropriate stare made her skin crawl. But she was positive he didn’t recognize her, so at least there was that.
"I'd love for you"—he circled his hand in the air to include Nash—"both of you, to attend a party I'm hosting, here on my boat. The day after tomorrow."
"Oh . . . um . . ."
Emil's tone was all charm, but the lechery parading in his gaze hadn't abated.
"I . . . I didn't pack anything appropriate for a—"
"No problem at all," Emil said. "I'll have Delphine order some dresses for you from one of the boutiques at The Mandeville."
"Oh, you don't need to—"
"It's no problem. I'm glad you can come.
" He focused on Nash. "I'll be spending the next couple of days on my boat and at the golf course.
" He inclined his head toward the golf club next to the marina.
"I'll take the golf cart over if I don't want to walk, so I won't need you for a couple of days.
The day after the party, though, I'll need to run some errands. I'll text you about the time."
Nash gave a tight nod. "Yes, sir."
Emil redirected his salacious gaze at Lena.
She eased toward Nash, but the subtle shift did nothing to discourage Emil. The billionaire's eyes traveled down her body.
Before her disgust could demand a full-on retreat, Nash stepped forward, brushing her shoulder, his strong presence mitigating Emil's creepiness. Thank you.
Emil's grin widened. "See you both back here in two days. At the party. Seven o'clock."
As much as she wanted the conversation to end, unease about the invitation spurred her protest. "Really, Mr. Van Horn, I should just—"
"I'll see you then," he interrupted.
He winked at her.
Ew. A wink from a man had never made her feel disgusting before.
She opened her mouth to offer another excuse, but he was already walking away. She hadn't come up with a good excuse anyway. Maybe this was a lucky break. They'd been invited aboard the yacht. And Cassidy was probably there. In two days she could be on her way home with Cassidy.
Yes, the party was a good idea.
She just hoped Nash agreed.