Free High Tide by Jude Deveraux

counselor?”
    At that Fiona opened her mouth again, but this time he didn’t move. Instead, he just looked at her speculatively.
    Closing her mouth, Fiona narrowed her eyes at him. “So why aren’t we at the police station, Mr. Do-Gooder? Just hours ago you were telling me that I couldn’t be a fugitive from justice, that I had to turn myself over to the police. But now that you’re also accused, we’re hiding.”
    â€œYou want blueberries in your pancakes?”
    â€œI want some answers!” she shouted at him.
    â€œAll right,” he said, “but sit while you ask me what you want to know.”
    â€œNo,” she said calmly as she took a seat on a barstool on the far side of the counter, “I don’t play that game. I don’t beg you for information. You start talking.”
    â€œI guess it would be too much to ask that
you
would cook while I explain.”
    Fiona gave a snort of derision. She had no idea how to turn on a stove, much less make food with one of the things.
    â€œThought not. All right, as you know, Eric killed Roy Hudson last night so we—”
    â€œWait a minute,” Fiona said slowly, her hands on either side of her head. “I thought you believed that
I
killed the man.”
    Ace was at the stove, his back to her, but he turnedaround, a look of astonishment on his face. “How could you have killed a man twice your size?”
    â€œThis is not funny,” she said, “and I don’t appreciate your levity.”
    â€œOkay,” he said with a sigh as he turned back to the griddle on the stove. “I had to get you out of there last night, so I pretended to Eric that I believed you were the killer. For all I knew he had a couple of stowaways on the boat ready to attack us.” He placed the first stack of pancakes in front of her.
    Since it was more than she usually ate in two days, she got up, found another plate, then lifted all but one of the pancakes and put them on the empty plate. During this she was thinking about what he was saying and doing her best to remember all that had happened last night.
    â€œBut later when we were alone, why did you keep saying that you thought I was a murderer?”
    â€œTo keep you angry so you wouldn’t think about what had just happened.” He had a spatula laden with yet more pancakes. “Is that all you’re eating?”
    â€œYeah,” she said with a cold look at him. “We unwomanly women don’t eat too much.” But the pancakes were quite good.
    He put two more on her plate, put three pats of butter on each pancake, then slathered the whole stack in syrup.
    â€œYou were going to turn me in to the police,” she said as she looked at the pancakes and decided to take just one more bite.
    â€œProtective custody. Seemed to me that Eric had it in for you. Or maybe it was just that you were the weaker of the two of us.” At that he held up his hands as though to prevent her attacking him for his non-p.c. reply, and she sawthat the backs of his hands were deeply scratched. It must have been painful for him to drive.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she mumbled, her mouth full, her eyes on her plate, her face red in memory of his holding her in the shower.
    â€œWhat did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He cupped his hand to his ear.
    â€œI said that you had no right to treat me as though I were a child. You could have told me what was going on,” she said loudly.
    â€œRight. Before or after you went into shock over finding a bleeding corpse on top of you?”
    At that Fiona pushed her now-empty plate away. “So what now? Where are we, by the way?”
    â€œThis house belongs to a friend of mine. It’s my getaway when he’s not here and I’ve had too much of …” When he paused, Fiona got the impression that he didn’t want to reveal too much about himself. “Anyway, no one in Florida knows