CHAPTER 47
“My God! You’ve gone so pale. What is it? Are you ill? Is it the wine? I—” His hands hovered over her this way and that—yet without actually touching her—as if he couldn’t figure out what to do.
“No, no, Mr. Wilson, I swear I’m fine. I just thought I saw something in the water.”
She regretted it as soon as she heard the words aloud. Idiot! She should be directing his attention away from the water, not towards it. If anything, she should have pretended to faint.
But she didn’t want to do that. If she pretended to be helpless—and worse, if people started believing it—she might not be able to run the lighthouse.
A frail, sickly girl with fainting spells could hardly stay alone on an island after all, and she sure as hell wasn’t capable enough to save men from sea.
“What was it?”
She tried to think of some reason—anything—that could explain such a reaction, but even a boat wouldn’t unless it was sinking and it would be way too hard to think you imagined a whole ship.
“It was just a trick of the light I’m sure.
” She gestured to the open sea, a bit to the left of where he had been.
“As you can see,” she said, loudly in case idiotic mermaids were loitering, “nothing’s there. ”
His eyes followed her hand and he seemed to guess it had to be a man for such a reaction from someone who rescued others for a living.
“Well, it could always be a log,” he started, and her body relaxed only to quickly tense again as he leaned close, hand cupping toward her over his mouth as if he were sharing a secret.
“But I’ve heard mermaids swim these waters. ”