Familiar Strangers

by Standifer, Allie

  What was the matter with him? Having this much interest in his client wasn’t a smart idea. He rubbed his eyes wishing he could as easily rub his thoughts of her away. The woman was going to drive him insane, if he wasn’t already there. He had to remember she was a job. She would be out of his life before she had a chance to be in it.

  Frustration seemed to flow off Damon in waves as he raked a hand through his already disheveled hair. “I don’t know how far to go with you. Tatum seems to trust you. God knows Duchess trusts Tatum, which means I’m going to have to trust you.”

  Galen’s response was a slight curl in his lip. “You just hate that, don’t you?”

  “Hell yes” he barked. “I don’t know you at all, and I have to trust you with one of the most important people in my life.”

  Surprised, Galen took a sip of coffee to hide his bemused expression that might creep upon his face. So the man was in love with his best friend, hmm? Wonder if Regin knew? “If you’re so in love with her, why don’t you stay and guard her yourself?”

  The other man’s head jerked up as if shot. “In love? With Regin?” He shook his head laughing. “God, no.” He held up his hand when Galen would have spoken. “You seem to have confused the situation, not that it’s any of your business.” Taking a deep breath, he continued. “Regin is closer to me than a sister and more important than a friend. She’s one of the rare people few others are ever privileged to meet. You might want to watch yourself around her because before you know it, you’ll be the one in love. I’ve seen it happen too many times.”

  “Fall in love? With her?” Galen scoffed at the notion. “We’re like Scotch and root beer. We’d never mix. Besides,” he shot an amused glance at the other man, “how do you know she won’t fall for me?”

  Damon didn’t bother hiding his laughter. It burst out of him, cutting through the quiet stillness of the morning. After a few minutes and several swipes at his damp eyes, he managed to answer. “I know because you are not even near the ballpark of her type.”

  Galen could feel himself becoming angry for no reason he could name. “I could be just the man to make her switch fields,” he huffed out.

  “Nothing’s impossible, I suppose,” he said. “I say she’ll eat you for lunch and have room left over for dessert.”

  Galen tamped down his anger, ignoring the shot at his ego. “So what type of men does she prefer? In case it becomes an issue while she’s here?” He quickly tacked on the last part, not wanted Damon to think his interest was anything more than professional.

  Black eyes sparked in repressed laughter. “Once it would have been someone like you. Strong enough to stand up to her, but smart enough not to let her know it.” His expression clouded. “She dates men, if you can call group get-togethers dates. The men are always more intellect than muscle. Up to date on politics, art, style, and the newest “hot” spots. None of them threaten her. She’s in control.” Damon’s restless gaze wandered to the water where waves crashed on the shore.

  Galen didn’t think Damon was aware of him anymore. The other man was caught up in memories.

  “You wouldn’t know it to look at her, but once upon a time Regin was shy.” His lips curved upward. “Quiet, nervous, and wouldn’t say boo to a bug.” “What happened?” he asked, but knew the answer before the words finished leaving his mouth.

  Amusement fled, harshness and steel fixed in Damon’s face. “Townsend happened. He changed that beautiful, shy, sweet, kind girl into the woman you met. A woman skimming over the surface of life. She doesn’t let herself care for anyone. Never allowing anyone to touch her or matter to her beyond a mild interest. If someone tries to come too close, she’s gone within days. Shawn Townsend succeeded in destroying the only thing that mattered to Regin...her heart.”

  “You’ve managed to keep her affections.” More than affection, he thought, remembering the scene of Regin’s greeting last night.

  “Oh, there are a few of us lucky ones she cares about. Tatum was a surprising but natural choice, given how closely they work together. I was there before. I’m in for the long haul. She didn’t have a choice in keeping me. I didn’t give her one.”

  They sat quietly, each lost in thought before Damon resumed. “As for why I don’t stay and watch her myself? It’s simple. She’d know something was wrong and be gone before morning with no one the wiser.”

  Her elusiveness was hard to take in. “You mean to tell me you can’t keep track of one woman? How hard can it be?”

  More laughter spilled from across the top of Damon’s coffee cup. “Don’t think it’s hard? Just wait until she’s all yours. I’ll bet you lose her within twenty-four hours. Remember something, Matthews, Regin is never what you think she is, and she never does what you want or expect her to.”

  As quick as it had come, the laughter died. “Damn, I can’t believe I’m sitting here laughing with you about losing Duchess. God help me that madman is out there somewhere looking for her, stalking her, and I’m talking about her wandering away.” He looked straight in Galen’s eyes. “Don’t let it happen, Matthews. If he gets her, I won’t stop hunting you till one of us is dead.”

  ****

  Late twilight had the last rays of the sun sinking below the water’s edge. Regin sat on the porch, watching the entire beautiful show. It was quiet now with Damon gone. He had seemed more somber than usual before driving off. She didn’t know if his mood was due to Caprice’s dire predictions or the ones the old Cajun had thrown at her. Either way, he’d been too silent as he held her close before quickly releasing her, and then climbing into his car. With no more than a wave and promise to call, he’d driven off.

  If she were being honest with herself, something she always tried to do, she’d admit the Cajun woman’s warnings and cryptic messages had gotten to her. She’d never been the type to take a stranger’s word too seriously, but there had been something about Caprice’s demeanor that spoke of sincerity. No, she reasoned, the sense of urgency she invoked was the cause of most of Regin’s concern. Like maybe time was running out for all of them.

  “But running out for what?” she questioned out loud. The woman had never mentioned a specific threat or person, just a general warning to be aware of evil and the arrival of Fate. Could all of this have something to do with the date she dreaded fast approaching?

  “No, one has nothing to do with the other.”

  She swiftly came off the steps and paced the width of the porch, as was her habit when her brain worked faster than her body could keep up. The activity made her feel more controlled. At least that was the excuse she gave Damon whenever he commented on it.

  “What was she warning me of?” The old woman had spoken of old evil, evil that never died. How could that be? Nothing was timeless in this world. Everything had a beginning and ending. It was the circle of life.

  And what about the dreams she told Regin to pay attention to? Had she been dreaming of things or people she couldn’t remember in the daylight? If so, what were they about? Who were they about?

  Her sneaker-covered foot viciously kicked a wooden slat of the porch railing. “Damn you, what the hell do you want from me?”

  “What do I win if I guess the right answer?”

  The low male voice that answered made her jump. Her right hand automatically came up to cover her jumping heart. “Ever heard of knocking?” Where was Annie? Normally the dog warned her before anyone could get within a foot of her.

  “Never knew I had to knock on a porch.” He shrugged his wide shoulders. “I tried the front, but there was no answer, so I came the back way.” He walked the few steps up the porch until only a small space separated them. “Now, what do I get if I’m right?”

  He was dressed much in the same manner as when they’d first met, only now his shirt was black and his faded jeans hugged his long muscled legs. His hair was mussed either from the wind or his own hands, falling onto his brow and giving him a sexy, rakish look. Her stomach started doing weird, fluttery thing
s and her mouth went dry. Everything about him screamed sex, and she couldn’t take her eyes away.

  Unconsciously, she licked her parched lips. His gaze caught the movement of her tongue and followed until she slipped it back in her mouth. She could see his pupils darken and his breathing become harsher. She could almost feel the heat from his gray eyes touching her lips. A sweet warm sensation swarmed the rest of her body, taking no notice of her mind’s refusal to participate. Her nipples tightened and hot lava flowed from her cheeks downward, pooling between her thighs.

  “So,” his husky voice held her captive, “what’s my prize?” he asked again.

  The clean outdoorsy smell of him filled her nostrils, making her blood pump faster. “Prize?” She shook her head, trying to rid her mind and body of strange feelings he was stirring. “Mr. Matthews, you seem to have lost me. What prize are you talking about?” Regin backed away several feet until the porch’s railing rubbed her back. She tilted her head, daring him to comment.

  He ran a casual hand though his hair. “If I get the answer right, what’s the prize?” he asked again in that same low soft tone.

  “And what question would that be, Mr. Matthews?” She couldn’t remember what she’d been thinking about much less saying before he walked up. He had the ability to wipe every thought from her head.

  She stiffened her back in silent denial. No more, she thought, I can’t let him distract me. Not with everything that’s been going on, and especially after her strange visitor this morning. Could he be the evil Caprice had warned her of?

  One black brow arched high on his gorgeous head. “You asked what the hell do you want from me?” He shot her a sexy grin. “I offered to guess the answer depending on the reward.” He stepped closer. “And the name is Galen. Didn’t we declare a truce last night?”

  She remembered thinking about the morning’s events and must have said something loud enough for him to overhear. She’d have to be careful of her behavior from now on. “Yes, we did. Unfortunately for you, it was a rhetorical question.” She smiled. “Sorry. No prize this time.”

  He didn’t seem to take offense at her tone. Instead, he seemed more amused than affronted.

  “To what do I owe the privilege of this visit?” Regin asked.

  He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. The movement forced the denim to cradle his sex, drawing her gaze immediately. She turned her head, not wanting the conversation anywhere near the topic of sex. She’d be in over her head with this man.

  “I came over to set up times for your lessons.”

  She nodded, thinking it made sense to have a timetable to work with.

  “Also,” he added, “to find out if you’ve watched the news at all?”

  She looked back toward the sunset, which was nothing more than a few stray rays of orange and red spreading across the surface of the water. “No, I didn’t bring a set with me. Why?”

  “There’s a storm brewing out in the gulf.” He walked over to join her at the rail. “It’s a tropical storm right now. They’re calling it Fate, and she’s headed our way.”

  Her body froze, and she felt her eyes widen in shock. “What did you say the name was?”

  ****

  Maybe she hadn’t been paying attention when he told her, but he’d bet there was something more going on in her pretty little head than she was letting on. “Fate. They’re calling it Fate.”

  There it was again, that deer in the headlight look. What was wrong with this woman?

  “Look, I’m sorry if the thought of a hurricane scares you.” He leaned closer. “Frankly, you don’t have time to be scared.”

  She looked up at him with such innocent eyes, he wished he could puff up his lungs, blow like hell, and make the hurricane go away. Unfortunately, he couldn’t, and their survival depended on his actions.

  “If she keeps to her course, she’ll hit within the next two days. We’ve got a lot to do before then. Now,” he raised a brow at her, “can I count on your help, or are you going to run to preppy boy?”

  Why he persisted in taunting her, he didn’t know. She wasn’t going to run from a hurricane. From what he’d heard about her, Regin had never run from anything in her life. He was about to find out how strong her mettle was. It was one thing to face down a man she could fight back. It was a whole different ballgame trying to fight a force of nature that you had no hope of beating.

  ****

  “After Fates arrives, it will begin!”

  Those had been the Cajun woman’s words. Surely, she couldn’t have been talking about a hurricane. What was supposed to begin? The evil she’d been warned of? And was it mere coincidence that timed the hurricane’s arrival so close to the anniversary of her attack?

  Regin turned away from Galen to stare sightless at the view. Her mind raced as she wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. Why had she allowed Damon to leave when she needed his quiet strength the most? She wanted to run and hide, to pull a blanket over her head until the world righted itself. But she would be damned if she’d let Galen Matthews think she was a coward.

  She turned back to face him. “What do you need me to do?”

  If he was surprised at her acceptance, he hid any sign of it. He stood, gracefully stretching his arms and back, making his T-shirt tight across his broad shoulders. Her eyes were glued to the spot where his jeans pulled against his taunt backside. Her pulse sped up and she had trouble swallowing.

  “We board up and hoard up,” he said, walking over to her and casually draping his arm across her shoulders. “And we’d best get busy.”

  He propelled her from the porch, across the lawn, and in the direction of the main house. Her only thought as she meekly let him lead her was she was going to kill Tatum if she managed to live through Fate and Galen Matthews.

  ****

  The next two days passed in a blur of strenuous non-stop activity. Regin helped nail plywood over all the windows in Galen’s house and tape each window in case the wood didn’t hold. Plants were moved indoors, lawn furniture stored, the boats moored, and supplies gathered.

  Then they secured her cottage.

  It amazed her when Galen walked into the house with several ropes and wrapped the ends around the legs of the furniture. She was about to ask him the point of it when he looped a line from a hook in ceiling she hadn’t noticed before. Within minutes the living room furniture was hanging suspended from the ceiling. In less than an hour, most of the furniture was dangling from ropes, and she’d packed her trunks for the second time in a week. When he tried stringing up her bed, she took a stand.

  “Look there’s no point in trying to stay here when the storm hits.” Galen glowered. “This place is going to flood quickly, and I don’t want to waste the time doing later what I can easily take care of now.”

  “But where am I supposed to sleep?” she questioned in the most rational tone she could conjure. No small feat considering every muscle in her body hurt. “The ceiling?”

  He rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. “You’ll sleep at the main house with me.”

  She felt her eyes widen. “Huh?” “What part didn’t you get?” Regin’s mouth opened and closed without making a sound. She cleared her throat in an attempt to speak. “Ah...you...we...that is...we can’t.” God! She sounded like an idiot. “Is this really going to be necessary?”

  Galen looked at the floor, shaking his head and finished tying the ropes securely. When he finally bothered to look up, she stepped back from the anger she saw.

  “I don’t mean to burst your bubble, Princess, but there is a hurricane out there.” He pointed toward the water out her bedroom window. “Unless it changes course pretty damn quick, she’s going to hit us hard.” He made to step closer, but stopped when she automatically stepped back. “Have you ever been through one of these storms?”

  Silently, she shook her head.

  “Fine. Then that makes me the expert. Now when she hits, we won’t have time
for anything but holding on to our asses and praying real hard.” “If it’s going to be so bad, why don’t we just leave the island and come back after it’s gone?” That plan made much more sense than staying here praying not to die.

  His hard gaze pinned her. “I won’t leave my home. You’re more than welcome to leave anytime you choose.”

  Automatically, Regin’s chin jutted out and her head rose with pride. “If you can handle it, so can I.” Hopefully, she wasn’t lying to both of them.

  Now, waiting for the storm to hit, she paced back and forth on his screened-in sun porch, looking toward the sky and ocean. She’d never seen such power. The massive darkness building on the horizon was enthralling.

  She shivered and rubbed her arms trying to ward off a sudden chill. Whatever was coming looked as if it had been unleashed from the deepest bowels of hell and was headed straight for them. Why hadn’t she just left the damned island? She could have ignored Galen’s taunt and stayed in a nice dry hotel until everything was over. Instead, here she was, like a big dummy, waiting for the storm to happen.

  Pride, she told herself. Her actions all had to do with showing one stubborn man she could handle anything he could. Now she wasn’t so sure. Nothing in her life had prepared her to deal with a force of nature that no one controlled.

  Four-foot waves crashed violently on the beach, wind picked up and swayed through the trees, and Regin prayed.

  “Quite a sight, isn’t it?”

  When she heard Galen’s voice, her heart jumped in fear and her body followed the reaction. So deeply absorbed in her thoughts, she hadn’t heard the screen door slam shut. She whirled around to face him and lost her words before she’d even formed them.

  He stood with his back to the water, so the waning sun framed him in its last light. The glow highlighted the blackness of his hair and obscured his face in shadows. He looked like a warrior of old facing yet another battle he might not win.