Windswept by Anna Lowe Read Free Book Online Page A

caught his lower lip with his front teeth and held it, waiting.
    “What?” Hans asked.
    She jabbed a thumb toward Ryan, trying to play it cool. Like it was only a ride she was giving him and not a second chance.
    “I won’t be alone,” she repeated. “He’s coming with me.”
    A tiny smile played at the corners of Ryan’s mouth, and if it had been a smile of triumph, she’d have shoved him away then and there. But his shoulders dipped at the same time, and she saw it for what it was: sheer relief.
    “Now, wait a minute—” Hans started in exactly the same tone her dad might have used a couple of years ago, back before he finally accepted that his daughters were all grown up.
    “Thanks, Hans. For everything,” she said, giving him a quick hug. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
    Hans, she could tell, was glaring over her shoulder at Ryan.
One wrong move, young man, and I’ll—
    She broke off the hug and steered Hans back toward the police building. “I wonder what’s taking Lucky so long. Maybe you should check.”
    “Maybe I should,” Hans said, though he barely budged.
    “I’m exhausted,” she said, because suddenly, she really was. “I need to get home. Thanks for everything, Hans. Tell Lucky the same.”
    She turned for the short walk to the waterfront, and Ryan fell into step at her side, so close and so comforting, she could have reached for his hand.
    Her fingers warmed on something, and crap, she really had reached for his hand.
    And double crap, her body leaned against his without her permission. Again.

Chapter Nine

    Ryan got to wishing the town of Kralendijk was a bigger place, because he wouldn’t have minded walking along like that a lot longer before getting to the dock. They hadn’t done a lot of this sappy hand-in-hand thing back in New York, but damn, maybe they should have. The way their shoulders brushed, the way her fingers settled between his in a custom fit. It was kind of nice.
    Okay, really nice.
    Of course, he’d had a day of near-misses, and that had a way of doing weird things to a guy’s head. Maybe tomorrow he’d think this was goofy. Maybe tomorrow he’d get his head screwed on right.
    Or maybe tomorrow would feel as good as right now.
    He’d been steaming back there in police headquarters. In New York, it would have been an hour, tops. But three hours of questioning? Small-town cops had way too much time on their hands. Small-town cops with big-world problems, like a terrorist bombing a boat in the harbor.
    A terrorist, not him. He’d tried getting that point across again and again.
I’m just here for the diving… Saw Mia swim after some guy… A guy who took out a knife and…
    He closed his eyes and let her lead him through the dim streets. He didn’t need to replay that scene. Didn’t need to ruin the calm that settled over him the minute she took his hand.
    So they’d taken his passport. The Dutch authorities here would check his record out, and by morning, everything would be fine. Yeah, everything would be fine. He should take his cue from the upbeat pastel colors of the colonial buildings they passed and make the most of his first trip outside the US in a couple of years, right?
    “God, there he goes again,” Mia muttered.
    They were passing Rick’s, a dockside, open-air bar where the dive boat had met its passengers that afternoon. Several members of the dive group were there, turned to a giant television screen where Stanley was showing his footage from the day.
    “I was born in Holland, but I swear I’ll die on Bonaire!” Hans said in the video clip.
    “No, wait, let me fast-forward to the right place,” Stanley broke in, leaning over his camera.
    Ryan couldn’t help pausing to watch the crazy day zip past in triple time. There was Mia, introducing the crew and passengers, looking happy as a lark until she’d realized he was there. He caught a glimpse of himself looking at her, and damn, why was his face that grim? What had he been