Free Echoes by Laura K. Curtis

sparkled as she rested her small hand in his and hopped into the car. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
    Without forethought, he tightened his fingers on hers, trapping them. She stilled but didn’t pull away, her eyes—no longer sparkling with humor, but deep and shadowed—never leaving his.
    â€œThere are no gentlemen,” he said, remembering the way she’d sat so close to Lewis. “Never trust anyone who claims to be one.”
    She swallowed before she spoke, and he watched the movement of the muscles in her throat. Her voice sounded hoarse. “But I should trust you?”
    He let go of her hand and pushed the door closed without answering. As he rounded the front of the vehicle, he worked to regain control over his reaction to her. The attraction was too strong, almost violent. Every time he thought he had it contained with logic, it escaped the cage.
You’re an ass
, he told himself.
You know damned well she can’t be trusted
. But still, his unruly body responded to her the minute he slid into his seat and saw her knotting her hair up.
    ***
    She was in trouble. Callie bent her head to gather her hair, taking the time to hide the warmth rising in her face. Though she ran her fingers and palms through her curls, she could still feel the burning heat of Mac’s hand grasping hers. What was wrong with her? Less than forty-eight hours before, she’d admonished herself to steer clear of the man, but she’d willingly climbed into his car, the fly to his spider. She should have insisted on driving herself to the station.
    She secured the knot of hair with a pair of intricately carved chopsticks she’d inherited from her mother as Mac buckled himself into his seat.
    â€œA/C or windows?” he asked, inserting the key into the ignition.
    â€œI’d prefer air conditioning, if you don’t mind. I’m usually not such a wimp about the heat, but this trip is killing me.” She regretted the words immediately. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have put it that way. I didn’t mean to be so insensitive.”
    He flicked a glance at her as he put the car in gear. “Don’t worry about it.”
    But she did. She’d taken well to heart her father’s lessons in diplomacy, in speaking carefully and acting even more so, and in always considering the feelings of others. Mac’s wife was missing at best. At worst, the gendarmes had recovered her body. Callie’s careless words doubtless reminded him of the sad situation. But she couldn’t withdraw them, and anything she might add would only exacerbate the problem. So she changed the subject.
    â€œHow much did you know about St. Martin before you moved here?”
    He huffed a brief laugh. “Not a damned thing. Travis, the Army buddy I told you about, he’s been here for a couple of years, and started harassing me about coming to visit maybe a year ago. He’d tell me how the booze was good, the food was better, and the women were easy, but I just couldn’t get a week free of work, or so it seemed at the time.”
    â€œDid you tell him what happened? Or did you just show up?”
    Mac went silent for so long Callie began to wonder whether she’d said something wrong.
    â€œNeither. He called me. Two days after I was released from the hospital. Told me the island was a great place to retire, and he had a spare boat I could sleep on if I wanted it.”
    â€œHow did he know?”
    â€œI have no idea. At the time, I was dealing with the disability paperwork and hearings, and the fallout from the knife fight. I was on painkillers and antibiotics, and every day it seemed like someone new wanted a piece of me, so I never even asked how Travis found out.”
    â€œWas the fight, the arrest in the papers? Maybe he was keeping track of you online.”
    â€œNope. I was undercover at the time. Since we’d hoped I would be able to go back to work,