“I saw the front door open. All I saw was the sea and I thought—I thought—” Anxious, she shot to her feet and swayed. “You’re sure the front door is locked?”

“Yes, and the key is in my pocket.” He wondered if she knew her pajamas were virtually see-through when she stood in front of the light. He could see the fluid curves of her body through the thin fabric. “Sit down, Emily.”

“I’m fine.”

He wasn’t. He wanted to peel off those pajamas and explore every inch of that creamy skin with his mouth. “Sit down before you fall.”

She sank back onto the sofa and closed her eyes. “I should have hidden the key. I put her at risk.”

“Risk of what?”

“She’s six years old, Ryan.”

“I sense this isn’t a generic risk we’re talking about. I’d like to understand what sent you flying across the sand like a champion sprinter.”

“I was trying to reach her. Trying to stop her going in the water. It’s my job to protect her.”

“Why would she have gone into the water?” He cast his mind back. “She was digging. She wasn’t interested in the water.”

“Children love the water.”

And he knew from her bloodless cheeks that the issue here wasn’t the bucket or even the fact that Lizzy had left the house. It was the sea. The sea was the reason she spent her time in the kitchen. The reason she sat with her back to the water and didn’t want to go out in his boat.

“Talk to me.” He kept his voice gentle. “Tell me what that was all about, because we both know it wasn’t about Lizzy.”

She curled her legs under her. “You’re right, it isn’t about her. It’s about me. I’m not the right person.”

“The right person for what?”

“To be looking after a child.”

He remembered feeling the same way, even though in his case the real burden had fallen on his grandmother. “I know all this has come as a shock to you. You haven’t had time to get used to the idea that you’re her guardian, but you will.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I remember staring at my sister who was asleep in the middle of my bed, and my grandmother telling me we were all she had. I wanted to run like hell in the opposite direction before I could screw it up, because I knew I would. There were a million ways to do things wrong, and I didn’t know how to do them right. Trust me when I say I know it feels like an overwhelming responsibility you’re not qualified for, but you’re going to be fine. You muddle through, twelve hours at a time.”

“No, you really don’t understand. I’m not the right person.” Her fierce tone caught his attention.