Free Safe Harbor by Marie Ferrarella Page B

mix.
    “Cris, he’s hurt,” Stevi pointed out. “He was unconscious when I found him.”
    “If he was unconscious when you found him on the beach, just how did you get him into your room by yourself?” Cris asked. It didn’t take a math genius to see that the height and weight factor were more than Stevi could have handled on her own.
    She was not about to get Silvio into trouble for this.
    “That’s not important now,” Stevi answered, dismissing the subject. “What’s important is that he’s hurt, and didn’t Dad teach us to always help those in need? Well, Mike needs help.”
    Cris turned to look at the man the argument was about. She was starting to feel queasy again and her head was beginning to pound, but she still needed some basic answers.
    “Who are you?”
    “He already told you his name,” Stevi said. “And he’s hurt and needs help. That’s all Dad knew about Dorothy when he took her in and gave her a place to stay. The same went for Silvio. And—”
    Cris raised her voice to talk over her sister. Everyone knew Stevi could go on forever. “None of them were wounded,” she stressed.
    “Externally,” Stevi insisted. “Internally, though, they all were—”
    The argument was escalating. Mike raised his hand, drawing attention back to him. “Please, ladies, I don’t want to cause any trouble. Just give me a minute to pull myself together and I’ll go.”
    Cris turned to scrutinize the man more closely. If she succeeded in getting him to leave, then what? What happened to him?
    “Do you have somewhere to go?” she asked Mike in a somewhat less than indignant tone.
    Right now, he knew he couldn’t go back to what had been his “home” for the past two years. They were probably waiting for him there in case he had survived. And he knew that he couldn’t easily reclaim his former life—not that the agency would let him right now.
    Moreover, he had no idea whom to trust. Someone had leaked information, blown his cover. Lying low here was his best and only option, but not if it was going to be the source of friction and trouble among these three women.
    “I can find somewhere,” he told Cris vaguely.
    “How?” Stevi demanded. Turning toward Cris, she filled in the important blanks. “He has no wallet, no money, no credit cards. He doesn’t even remember how he got hurt. How’s he supposed to fend for himself if he can’t even stand up?”
    Cris sighed. Stevi was right. Her sister had managed to breach her outer wall to reach the part that was a pushover. She couldn’t just toss the man out in this condition.
    “You can stay here—until you get better,” Cris qualified.
    “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to be any trouble,” he protested.
    “I think we’re past that at this point,” Cris told him. Turning toward Stevi, she repeated, “He can stay. But Dad has to know.”
    Stevi winced at the thought. “Cris—”
    “He has a right to know. It’s his inn.”
    “Dad said it belongs to all of us,” Stevi protested. “That means one-fifth is mine. I can have Mike stay in my fifth.”
    Cris frowned and shook her head in complete disbelief. “I think you’re wasting your time as an event planner. You should really think about becoming a lawyer. You could talk the ears off a brass monkey.”
    Stevi disregarded the sideways compliment. “I don’t care about the ears on a brass monkey, I care about winning you over.”
    “You have won me over. He can stay,” Cris repeated, looking at Mike, who had managed to draw himself up into a sitting position on the floor. “But that’s my one condition. Dad has to know.”
    “Okay,” Stevi agreed. “But can we take our time telling him?”
    “Like when? Halloween?” Cris asked with a touch of sarcasm, her temper uncustomarily short.
    “Labor Day?” Stevi countered, only half kidding.
    “Stevi, he— Oh, Lord.” Her eyes widened and suddenly her face looked very peaked, the way it had the other