Free The Spy I Loved by Dusty Miller Page B

scandalous, it
really is—” And of course he had no idea of what to do, so he had
taken the sabbatical.
    That was
the great thing about the civil service, and the salaried nature of
his job, he explained. One of the benefits of a public school
education, but the term meant something different in
England.
    She knew all about that from Harry
Pott-Head and the Crimson Brothel.
    Liam
chuckled. He threw his head back and laughed. The lady had a way
with words, totally irreverent and he had always liked
that.
    No-holds-barred.
    The boat
drifted, the motion gentle and soothing. With her jacket zipped up,
Lindsey was warm enough.
    She sat
up carefully. His form, laying back on the inner prow, seemed
totally limp and relaxed as the boat moved under him. He was a
pretty cool customer, for all of his manners.
    She could
feel his eyes upon her.
    “ I’ve got an idea.”
    “ Hmn?” He sounded half asleep, an impressive feat in a small
boat, at night, when one is out with a perfect stranger.
    “ Just relax.” She gave a yank on the starter and the little
four-point-five horse-power motor burbled into life.
    Liam
lifted his head in the gloom, wondering where they were
going.
    She
turned the bow, noting more rocking motions as Liam carefully
un-stowed himself and got back up on the seat.
    Lindsey
found the switch on the small control box and turned off their
navigation lights. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness as a small,
tree-covered island loomed up in the darkness. Liam’s first clue
that there was land there, was the ragged tops of jack pines
blocking out the stars down low near the horizon.
    Switching
off again, the boat ghosted in, carried by its own impetus. The
pale strand of the beach grew lighter and longer. It was a place,
well-known, where pretty much everyone in the neighbourhood had
skinny-dipped at least once. Not always at night, either. She knew
the area well, and the big rocks were well off to the
left…hopefully. There were grey shapes sticking up out of the
water, right where they should be.
    “ That’s very good navigation, Lindsey.” His voice was soft and
far-away.
    Having
squirmed his legs over, one at a time, he was now facing forwards
with a paddle over the side to feel for bottom. He gave a couple of
awkward pulls.
    Lindsey
pulled out her flashlight and pointing it forwards and down,
snapped it on.
    “ Party Island. That’s what all the kids call it, anyways. It
doesn’t have any official name.” She clambered forward to the
middle seat. “Here.”
    Liam took
the light from her hand and she pulled out the spare paddle. Dale
didn’t chintz out with the equipment. There were no plastic
department store toy paddles here. This one was a good five and
half feet long with a broad, leaf-shaped blade made from laminated
maple planks.
    “ Hold still.” She stood up carefully, in a relaxed, knees-bent
pose, legs braced wide apart and with the paddle held vertical at
arm’s length, in what she had always thought of as the gondolier’s
pose.
    With a
few strokes on each side, she soon had them rocking nose-first just
a metre off the beach. She sat down again while he got out, and
then Liam pulled the bow up onto the gently sloping sand. The boat
was steady now.
    Taking
her hands and looking inscrutable in the moonlight, eyes just pools
of darkness glistening under the pale brow, he helped Lindsey
out.
    He stood
there, looking off up their little beach to right and left. He’d
seen the northern lights before. This was an unusual display.
Standing on a deserted beach in the middle of the night with a
pretty girl was just icing on the cake.
     
     

Chapter Seven

     
    “ Are you afraid of bears or something?”
    She
wasn’t stupid. That much was certain. He couldn’t leave the gun
just lying on the kitchen table. Hiding it was problematical, and
he didn’t know how long they’d be gone. To hide it anywhere outside
of the cabin was irresponsible, at the very least. It was as
natural as breathing to