“I saw him from my bedroom. It isn’t the man with the camera.” The little girl’s eyes were wide and frightened, and Emily felt a flash of guilt. She was meant to be calm and dependable. A parent figure, not a walking ball of hysteria.

She stared down at green eyes and innocence. At golden hair, tumbled and curling like a fairy-tale princess.

Get me out of here.

“It won’t be him. He doesn’t know we’re here. Everything is going to be fine.” She recited the words without feeling them and tried not to remember that if everything were fine they wouldn’t be here. “Hide in the bedroom. I’ll handle it.”

“Why do I have to hide?”

“Because I need to see who it is.” They’d caught the last ferry from the mainland and arrived late. The cottage was on the far side of the island, nestled on the edge of Shell Bay. A beach hideaway. A haven from the pressures of life. Except that in her case she’d brought the pressures with her.

No one should know they were here.

She contemplated peeping out of the window, through those filmy romantic curtains that had no place in a life as practical as hers, but decided that would raise suspicions.

Grabbing her phone and preparing herself to draw blood if necessary, Emily dragged open the heavy door of the cottage and immediately smelled the sea. The salty freshness of the air knocked her off balance, as did her first glimpse of their visitor.

To describe him as striking would have been an understatement. She recognized the type immediately. His masculinity was welded deep into his DNA, his strength and physical appeal part of nature’s master plan to ensure the earth remained populated. The running shoes, black sweat pants and soft T-shirt proclaimed him as the outdoor type, capable of dealing with whatever physical challenge the elements presented, but she knew it wouldn’t have made a difference if he were naked or dressed in a killer suit. The clothing didn’t change the facts. And the facts were that he was the sort of man who could tempt a sensible woman to do stupid things.

His gaze swept over her in an unapologetically male appraisal, and she found herself thinking about Neil, who believed strongly that men should cultivate their feminine side.

This man didn’t have a feminine side.

He stood in the doorway, all pumped muscle and hard strength, dominating her with both his height and the width of his shoulders. His jaw was dark with stubble and his throat gleamed with the healthy sweat of physical exertion.

Not even under the threat of torture would Neil have presented himself in public without shaving.

A strange sensation spread over her skin and burrowed deep in her body.

“Is something wrong?” She could have answered her own question.