Storm Warning by Toni Anderson Read Free Book Online Page A

have?” He directed the question to Carolyn, who blushed like a virgin on her wedding day.
    Sorcha struggled to hide her exasperation.
    “A half lager shandy, please.”
    They both turned and looked at Sorcha expectantly.
    Torn between not wanting anything from the moody Yank and not wanting to cause a scene, Sorcha hesitated. People were watching. She could sense them cataloguing her words, and scrutinizing her actions.
    Reluctance to make a scene won out, and she slowly unwound the scarf from around her neck. “I’ll have a pint of 80 shilling. Please.”
    Ben Something raised an eyebrow, his teeth flashing as he gave a nod of approval. “Make that two pints of 80 shilling.”
    No doubt about it, there was something intriguing about the man. That dangerous quality counteracted by a sexy smile she didn’t trust.
    She walked away.
    It was rude, but after the day she’d had, she didn’t care. What was with the guy anyway? Glaring at her one minute, buying her a drink the next? No way was she going down that hot-and-cold emotional road again. Been there, done that. And had no intention of repeating her mistakes.
    Grabbing the table furthest from the bar, she squeezed into the corner with her back to the wall. The walls were painted a dull blue, yellowed to green from decades of tobacco smoke. She glanced across the bar and there was her father. For once she held herself still rather than chase him out the door.
    Too tired to sit up straight, she lay her head in her hands. The table was cool and soothing against her cheek. Maybe it was exhaustion making her see things. Exhaustion mixed with vague memories.
    The headache lanced her skull. She’d been up at six. Work by seven. Reviewing protocols, demonstrating practical classes, listening to a lunchtime seminar on neurophysiology. Followed by a tedious afternoon finding references in order to write a literature review that combined puffin behavioral ecology with the use of seabirds as bio-indicators of pollution. This evening she felt as if she’d read papers until her eyes bled.
    Now it was 10:00 p.m. and she was knackered, and tomorrow morning she had to demonstrate the same practical class over again.
    She also needed to deal with her other headache. The camera she’d set up on the Isle of May ready to transmit live images of puffins had malfunctioned, and she needed to check it out.
    She cracked an eyelid when a glass of beer clunked down in front of her. Carolyn dumped her coat on the bench, clearly expecting an introduction to their new acquaintance. Sorcha reached out, wrapped her fingers around the pint glass and shivered as condensation pooled against her skin.
    Reluctantly, she met his gaze and realized how handsome he was. Plus he was wearing a leather jacket she’d love to steal, a midnight sweater and soft-looking worn-out jeans. The outer package was perfect. And that was a distraction she didn’t want or need.
    Damn.
    “Carolyn, this is Ben Foley. Ben, meet Carolyn Jamieson. Ben’s the guy who helped me with the dead man on the beach yesterday.”
    There. She’d done it. Been polite and encouraging. Ben shook Carolyn’s hand and her friend smiled so hard all five of her dimples flashed.
    God, the woman was fickle. One minute going gaga about Kevin as though he was the greatest man on Earth, the next mooning over this guy. Or maybe she just wanted to be loved.
    The thought crept into Sorcha’s consciousness and her fingers gripped the glass tighter.
    They sat around the small circular table, Ben’s knees brushing hers in the cramped space. He looked straight into her eyes and shifted the point of contact. O-kay. So Carolyn wasn’t the only one feeling the draw. However Sorcha was immune. Thanks to one Australian surfer boy.
    “What’re two beautiful girls like you doing in a dive like this?”
    What a line. She rolled her eyes as Carolyn laughed on cue.
    “Having a drink after a long hard day.” The other girl’s eyes twinkled.
    “I thought