Free Going Overboard by Christina Skye Page B

and was somewhere nearby, silent and invisible backup, which was the best kind.
    “The lighting looks just about perfect.” As Carly spoke, something flashed on the hillside behind her, once and then again.
    McKay kept his face impassive as he tracked a blur of red up through the trees. To buy time, he caught Carly's hand while he studied the slope behind her.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Making you slow down,” he lied smoothly. “If you keep charging around in this heat, you'll crash before the shoot is done.”
    She tilted her head. “You know a lot about heat and the tropics, do you?”
    “Enough.”
    McKay was a patient man when circumstances required it. He fingered the silver pendant at her neck, tracing the whimsical curve of stars suspended by tiny silver chains. “Nice work.”
    Color touched her cheeks. “Too expensive, but I couldn't resist. The artist is M. E. Kincade.”
    “Never heard of him.” He twirled the stars slowly, noting that there was no more movement from the trees.
    “Her. She's an American jeweler based in Scotland. Now maybe you'll tell me why you're pretending to be so interested in my necklace when we both know you couldn't care less about mixed metals.”
    “To slow you down.” He gave her a cool smile. “And to give myself the pleasure of touching you.”
    “Forget the charm, McKay. I saw you watching the trees behind me.”
    She was more observant than he'd realized. He lifted her pendant, tracing the delicate bits of silver. “Maybe I wanted to wish on these stars of yours.”
    Her eyes were frankly skeptical. “You're hiding something, and I don't like it.” She pulled away, tugging primly at her shirt. “Can we get to work?”
    Behind her a dusty bus lumbered around a curve and came to a shuddering halt. Seconds later waves of noisy schoolchildren flooded onto the beach.
    Carly gasped. “Can you believe this? Everything was arranged. This beach was supposed to be closed today.”
    “Looks like someone forgot to tell the kids,” he said dryly.
    “I can't possibly shoot here now.” Carly stared at the darting children, a hand pressed against her stomach.
    McKay watched her fingers flatten. “Steady. We'll work something out. Let's go corner your friend from the tourist bureau and check out options.”
    Her face was pale in spite of the heat. “I need a minute. Just a minute.” She closed her eyes and dragged in a breath.
    McKay rested his hand on hers where it lay against her stomach. “How long has it been hurting?”
    “About five minutes. Since the school buses arrived.”
    “No,” he said patiently. “I meant how long ago did your stomach problems begin?”
    Her eyes snapped open. “What do you mean? What makes you think—”
    “You're sheet-white.” He caught her wrist and shook his head. “Your pulse isn't the steadiest. All in all, I'd say you're steering yourself toward an ulcer.”
    Carly's face closed down tight. “I appreciate your concern, but you're wrong.” She pulled away and started up the beach. “And I don't have time to discuss it.”
    More children thronged the sand as McKay charged after her, scanning for possible threats. By the time he caught up, Carly was arguing with the official from the tourist board while Daphne tried to cut in.
    “Just listen to me,” she said sharply. When silence descended she nodded briskly. “That's better. I know an incredible spot up the northeast coast, complete with cliffs and a waterfall. I'll have to make some calls, but I think I can arrange for us to use it for a few hours. The owner is an old friend of my father's.”
    “How far away?” Carly demanded. “We don't have any extra time in the schedule.”
    “About thirty minutes should do it. Why don't we go to the inn up the road while I contact the owner?”
    “I'll take anything, so long as it's quiet.” Carly moved restlessly from foot to foot. “The waterfall sounds good. We could work that into a dramatic background pan. Let's try