She heard him running now, stumbling after her, and in terror she veered off the road, scrambling over a ledge, praying for a foothold. The cliff went almost straight down. Trying not to look, she felt her way backward over the rocks when she heard a sharp whistle above.

The old man was at the edge of the cliff, grinning down at her, his eye patch like a dark scab on the side of his face.

Gasping, Kelsey scrabbled down another few feet, clutching at anything she could find. She didn’t even see the loose stone that turned her foot and threw her off balance. Groping wildly at an overhang of brush, she felt the weeds come loose in her hands, the searing pain as her body slid down the cliff toward the sea below.

There wasn’t even time to scream.

Shutting her eyes, she braced herself for the impact, the cold water…“anytime it wants you it’s got you…got you…”

“I’ve got you!”

The voice was right in her ear, and arms, strong and warm and solid, tight around her body…

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Kelsey’s eyes flew open. Neale’s face was just inches from her own, his body stretched out beneath hers.

“I…that man was chasing me—” Kelsey struggled in his grasp, but Neale’s arms were like steel. With one heave he pushed her away, and she scrambled up. “I slipped—that man—”

“Don’t you know you could have been killed!” He was positively seething, and Kelsey stepped back, tripping over her own feet. “Nobody climbs on those rocks, you understand? Nobody! If anything had happened to you, there wouldn’t have been anyone around to help you!”

“Well…well, you were here!”

Neale was fighting for control. “There’s no telling what could happen this far from the main beach—you could have broken something or speared yourself on the rocks. Not to mention drowning. Or sharks.”

“Sharks! But—the water’s too shallow—”

“How do you know? Have you been in?”

“Well—no—but—I just thought—”

“You just thought,” he glowered at her. “Sharks don’t need deep water to rip you apart—three feet would do them just fine.”

Kelsey flushed with embarrassment. “But that man—he was coming after me and—” She was babbling and pointing at the same time, and as Neale followed the direction of her arm, his eyes grew even darker.

“You were up there? You went to the lighthouse?” He was incredulous. “How the hell did you get up there?”

“Through—up the road—”

“The road! What’s the matter with you, can’t you read?”

“Read what?” His anger was frightening her again, and she grew defensive. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—” She broke off, eyes widening, as he grabbed her and began pulling her around the side of the cliff. When they finally reached the road, he pushed her so roughly towards the gate that she nearly went sprawling.

“Read it,” he ordered.

Kelsey looked where he pointed, and she gasped.

The gate was shut. And locked.

And the sign posted on it had big, bold letters that could have been seen half a mile away: PRIVATE ROAD DANGER POSITIVELY NO TRESPASSING.