“You lied to me.” The anger was like a burning coal inside her. Later there would be other emotions, but right now fury overrode everything else. Fury and a deep sense of betrayal.

Ryan removed his feet from the desk. “Calm down.”

“I’m calm. Just angry.”

“I’m not sure it’s possible to be calm and angry.”

She paced across his office and stood in front of him. “I won’t ask why you didn’t tell me, because that part is obvious, but I will ask what your intentions are. I have a right to know that.” She needed to know whether she was going to have to leave the island. The thought made her stomach churn because she had no idea where she’d go.

“My intentions?”

“You lied to me. You sat there and talked to me about how the press wouldn’t be interested. You reassured me. You sat in my kitchen and acted as if you were my friend. As if you were someone I could trust. You bought Lizzy a hat, for God’s sake, to hide her from prying eyes and all the time you’re—you’re—”

“Wait a minute. Slow down. We’re talking about Lizzy? I thought you were talking about this thing we have.” The look he gave her could have singed the edges of her hair. “The chemistry. I thought it unsettled you. That’s why I backed off. I was giving you space.”

Her gaze met his, and for a moment she was knocked off balance. “I’m talking about the fact you’re a journalist, Ryan. When were you going to tell me? After a piece on Lizzy came out with your byline?”

He stilled. “How did you find out?”

“I’d like to say I looked you up on the internet because anyone in my position with a shred of common sense would have done that, but I didn’t.” After they’d had waffles on the deck that first morning she’d looked up the Ocean Club and spent half an hour on their slick website. She’d read his bio and been impressed. She hadn’t thought to put his name alone into a search engine. “Agnes was sorting through a file of all the stories you’ve written. She’s proud of you. She didn’t seem to know you’d conveniently kept that part of your life from me.”

His gaze didn’t shift from hers. “Did you look at the stories?”

“No. I wasn’t in the mood to mull over your career success. I was too busy wondering why you’d chosen to keep it from me. And the answer is pretty obvious.”

“Emily, listen—”