She’d be polite but firm. Professional. She’d assure him that the whole team was keen to accommodate his wishes. All they required was that he express those wishes in a calm, civilized manner and not scare the staff.

Good morning, Mr. Scott. I’m the owner and manager, and I wanted to have a quick word—

No, that was too much waffle. She needed to keep it brief and direct. A man like him would appreciate that.

Mr. Scott, I’m Milly, the owner and manager. We’d be grateful if you could tell us when you’d like us to service the cabin so that we do so without intruding on your personal space.

She reached the steps that led to his cabin. Her heart was hammering, and she felt a little sick.

Honestly, what was wrong with her? The worst thing that could happen was that he’d be defensive and angry and then check out immediately in protest. But that would be pretty bad because Brendan Scott was a long-stay guest making a significant contribution to her bottom line.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe she wouldn’t say anything at all.

She was about to back away and retrace her steps when the door opened. Brendan Scott stood there, a look of frustration on his face. His wide shoulders filled the doorway, and all the words she’d been rehearsing flew from her head.

“Yes?”

She resisted the urge to take a step back.

He looked tired, she thought. Stressed, with shadows under his eyes. His hair looked as if he’d dragged his fingers through it a thousand times in the last hour.

She felt a stab of sympathy because although she hadn’t had a chance to look in the mirror since she’d hauled herself out of bed that morning, she was pretty sure she didn’t look much better than he did.

“I’m sorry to disturb you—” Her voice came out as a croak. “It’s not important. I’m—”

“You’re Milly. I remember you from last time.” He paused, and his expression shifted into a look of apology. “And you’re here to take me to task for being rude to Lorna.”

“Oh . . . you know her name?”

“She wore a badge. It said Lorna.” There was a hint of laughter in his eyes. “I assume that’s her name, although as a crime novelist it did cross my mind that the woman at the door could have in fact murdered Lorna and was impersonating her in order to gain entrance to my cabin. It would be a good twist, don’t you think?”

Milly, who generally preferred her fiction a little less dark, recoiled. “That’s the way your mind works?”