Free Seaborne by Katherine Irons Page A

Morgan to return with every fiber of her being. She’d tried to tell herself that she hadn’t imagined him, that he’d appear, just as he had before. She could see every feature of his handsome face, the width of his brow, and every curve of his lips. She pictured herself laughing with him, sharing the lunch that now stood wilting on the table. She’d forced herself to take a bite of her salad an hour or two ago, but it had tasted like hay. When he had been here with her, she’d been ravenous. Whatever she’d put in her mouth had seemed heavenly.
    “Miss Claire? Are you listening to me?” Mrs. Godwin took hold of her wrist. “Your pulse seems erratic.”
    Claire pulled her arm out of the woman’s grasp. “I’m fine. My pulse rate is normal and, in any case, you aren’t a medical professional.”
    “Please, Miss Claire. You’ve got to stop this childish behavior. It’s not my place to question your—”
    “Exactly, Mrs. Godwin, it’s not your place. My body may be a wreck, but I have enough sense left to know what I want. Please, leave me alone. I’ll come when I’m ready. If you’d like, take the evening off. You and Nathaniel go to town and see a movie or catch up on your shopping. I’m perfectly capable of getting something out of the refrigerator if I’m hungry later.”

    Morgan didn’t come that day, and he didn’t come the next. Claire was late getting down to the beach on the third day because of physical therapy, but again, she waited in vain for him to appear. Hope had dimmed. Now she was bargaining with herself.
    Certainly, all that nonsense about swimming to a cave and having him kiss her and touch her … the lovemaking … that had to be a dream. She could see that. But Morgan hadn’t been a dream. He had been here.
    When her cell rang, she had the crazy idea that it might be him on the other end, but she quickly realized that it was her father calling. “Hi, Richard,” she chirped, trying to sound cheerful.
    “How are you?”
    “Fine. Stop worrying. You’re as bad as Mrs. Godwin.”
    “You must be bored to death up there. When’s the last time you talked to someone other than Mrs. G. or one of the staff?”
    “For your information, I’ve been bird watching. I’ve identified four new species in the last two days. I got a really great book online.”
    “I meant human interaction, Claire, not birds.”
    She made a sound of amusement. “Not just birds. I met a fascinating man two days ago.” Oops, she hadn’t meant to mention Morgan to her father. It just popped out. Now, she was in for it. She steeled herself for the lecture.
    “Where? Who is he? Did he come to the house?”
    “Stop,” she protested. “You’re not questioning a trial witness. My visitor wasn’t a salesman, and he wasn’t collecting for a charity. I met him here on the beach, and he was perfectly respectable.” Not exactly the entire truth, she admitted to herself, but close enough. After all, the whole underwater scene and the hot sex was a dream. Morgan wasn’t responsible for that.
    “How did he get on your beach? And where was Nathaniel? What do you pay him for, if not for security?”
    Claire drummed her fingers nervously on the table. What was wrong with her that she’d brought Morgan up with Richard? She must be losing her marbles. “Nathaniel is a gardener and handyman besides security. I imagine he was mowing the lawn. But, you aren’t listening to me. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m not a child anymore.”
    “Your insistence on distancing yourself from me and your friends makes that quite clear.”
    Claire felt her cheeks growing warm. He knew how to push all her buttons. “What friends? My real friends have gone on with their lives. They have careers, husbands, children.”
    “You could have a career.”
    “In what? Teaching? My degree is in Classical Greek and Roman History. I might be able to roll my wheelchair into a classroom, but my short-term memory would make my lectures