Free Guilty Passion by Laurey Bright

Ryland.”
    â€œYes, Mrs. . . Jackson, isn’t it?”
    The woman smiled. “That’s right. Mr. Ryland’s told you about me, then. I’m sorry about your husband.”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œMr. Ryland said to tell you there’s breakfast in the kitchen, and if there’s anything else you want, to ask me. I hope you found all you needed in your room and the bathroom. I expect you’ve got your own shampoo and stuff, but I bought a few things in case you’d forgotten. A lot of men just use soap for their hair, and I know I can’t do without a good shampoo myself.”
    â€œEverything was perfect. It was very thoughtful of you. Where is Mr. Ryland?”
    â€œHe’s in his workroom, upstairs. He doesn’t like to be disturbed once he’s started work.”
    â€œI won’t disturb him. And I don’t think I’ll need to disturb your work, either, Mrs. Jackson.”
    â€œThat’s all right, dear. Anything I can do. . .”
    Celeste thanked her again and made for the kitchen. She washed up the dishes afterwards and made her way down to the beach. Her sandals were not on the sand, and she clambered onto the rocks, searching along where she had been yesterday.
    There was no sign of them. The tide was coming in, and she didn’t want to have the same experience as the previous day, so she scrambled back to the sand, to find a man coming out of the trees.
    â€œHi!” he hailed her. He was tall and brown-haired, dressed in a pair of cutoff jeans and a white T-shirt. As he came closer she saw that he had brown eyes and a pleasant grin.
    A little cautiously, Celeste smiled back. “Hello.”
    â€œLost something?” he asked her.
    â€œYes. I left my shoes on the beach yesterday, but I guess they got washed away by the tide.”
    â€œI saw you wandering about as though you were looking for something, when I was on my way down from my place. I’ll help you, if you like.”
    â€œThank you very much, but I don’t think it’s much use. You live up there?” She could see faint signs of another path and the gleam of window glass among the trees on the slope.
    He nodded. “I’m Jeff Saunders, by the way. You’re staying with Ethan?”
    She saw the slight hint of speculation in his eyes, and said, “I’m his sister-in-law. Celeste Ryland.”
    â€œVery glad to meet you, Celeste.” He paused, obviously putting two and two together. “Then it was your husband who. . . died recently? Ethan’s brother?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI’m really sorry. Ethan was cut up about it, I know.”
    â€œYes. He and Alec were very close.”
    â€œHow long are you staying?”
    â€œI don’t know yet. It depends on. . . a number of things.”
    Jeff nodded sympathetically. “Look, if there’s anything I can do. . .”
    â€œThank you. Everyone’s very kind, but there isn’t much anyone can do.”
    â€œI guess not. Did you come down here to be alone? If you want me to—”
    â€œNo, it’s all right. Ethan’s working, and Mrs. Jackson is cleaning the house. I just thought I’d find my sandals and keep out of their way for a while.”
    â€œHow would you like to come up to my place for a cup of coffee or a fruit juice? I could do with some company. Haven’t seen a soul since Ethan left for the mainland. Most of the houses nearby are holiday homes, you know. Except for the Palmers—they live over there, just about dead opposite my place—Ethan and I are the only permanent residents. And both of us spend weeks at a time away from home.”
    â€œWhat about Mrs. Jackson?”
    â€œOh, she comes from around the point. There’s a community in that bay, bigger than ours. About a dozen residents, and more holiday places. In the season it’s pretty lively there. Here it just stays nice and quiet, except for the odd