Siren's Call. Debbie Herbert

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СКАЧАТЬ lower, noting that no gold band adorned his fingers.

      Nash’s skin was hot as the Southern sun and his muscles rumbled and flickered under her touch, like thunder over deep waters. His jaw tightened at the brazen contact, but he didn’t pull away. His fingers curled tightly on his cart. Indifferent, my ass. Lily closed her eyes and inhaled, using her heightened senses to identify Nash’s enticing scent—a woodsy, sandalwood base with wisps of pine and cedar and perhaps a touch of oak moss. He smelled like the backwoods they used to roam together.

      Bet his kiss was anything but chaste now.

      “There you are!” a trilling voice bore down upon them.

      She opened her eyes and watched a tall redhead grin as she lifted a couple of plastic bags. “I picked up the last of what we need for the shoot. Doughnuts and dozens of protein bars while we stalk the elusive mating habits of Alabama clapper rails.”

      Lily blinked and glanced at Nash as he subtly inched away from her touch. The loss of contact left her oddly disoriented. “Elusive... What did you say?” she asked the woman, feeling stupid.

      “They’re birds. Also known as marsh chickens or clappers.” The redhead held out a hand. “I’m Opal Wallace, Nash’s photographic assistant.” Opal’s face was sprinkled with freckles, and a faint scar marred one cheek. A bit plain overall, but her wide smile and merry eyes made up for any lack of sculptured perfection.

      A flush of pleasure shot through Lily at Opal’s kind greeting. It had been a long time since a female, outside of family, had bestowed a genuine smile her way. She shook the proffered hand, pathetically grateful for the friendly gesture.

      Opal winked. “Figured I’d introduce myself since Nash appears speechless.”

      Nash cleared his throat. “You didn’t give me a chance to introduce you,” he answered, frowning slightly. He lifted a hand in Lily’s direction. “This is Lily Bosarge, an old friend.”

      “Hey, ole buddy Lily.” Opal waggled her eyebrows. “How close of friends were you two?”

      “Purely platonic,” Lily joked. Well, mostly. Except for one experimental kiss. “Can’t get into too much trouble before the teen years.” Nash had been long gone by the time she’d developed her siren voice. Not that it mattered; he seemed unaffected by its magic. This time, she was the one flushed and bewildered in the presence of the opposite sex.

      And she didn’t like it one little bit.

      “Let’s get together one evening, okay?” Opal whipped out a business card from one of the many pockets on her khaki vest and pressed it into Lily’s palm. “Gotta run. There’s a ton of stuff I need to set up before we get to work.” She gave Nash a brisk wave. “See you on the island in a couple days, boss. I’ll have the area scouted out and set up, the usual.”

      As suddenly as she’d intruded, Opal disappeared in a swirl of red hair and a cheerful smile.

      Awkward silence descended and Lily felt an odd jolt of dismay when Nash glanced down at his watch. She didn’t want to say goodbye. If he walked out now, would she ever see him again, ever discover why he acted immune to her enchantment? Besides, he was the last good friend she’d ever had, and certainly the only one in the male species. Everything had turned to shit in junior high when the guys started chasing her unmercifully. At first it had been tremendous fun—for maybe half a year. Until the girls turned as one against her like a tsunami of destruction.

      Lily grasped at the first conversational thread that popped into her head. “I hear you’re a famous wildlife photographer now. I remember how you used to carry around an old 35 mm camera your grandfather bought at a thrift store.”

      “Most of the time I didn’t have enough money to actually load it with film.” The taut muscles in his jaw and chin relaxed and the green eyes grew cloudy. He shook his head slightly, and the corners of his mouth twitched in a semismile.

      Warmth spread inside at this glimpse of the boy she used to know.

      “And you were never without your sketchpad,” Nash said. “You were damn good, too. The detail of your drawings impressed me. Please tell me you still draw.”

      Lily returned the smile, delighted she’d drawn him into a real conversation. “I do some. Mostly, though, I paint with watercolors.” She kept her tone deliberately light and casual, as if painting were a mere hobby and not a passion.

      His brow furrowed. “Watercolors?”

      “It’s not like the kiddie paintings you make with cheap dime-store kits,” she answered quickly. Too quickly, judging from his knowing expression, as if he’d guessed her art was more than a casual hobby.

      “I see. Didn’t mean to belittle your art.”

      Lily shrugged, let her facial features smooth into its familiar mask. Nash wasn’t the only one who’d learned to hide emotion over the years. “I’m no artist.”

      “So you say.”

      Perceptive eyes drilled into her, as if he saw past the pretty, past the superficial shell she presented to everyone in town who only viewed her as the slutty dumb blonde who’d worked as a hairdresser until a few months ago.

      It was exhilarating.

      It was scary.

      Lily retreated like a trembling turtle, so different from the young girl who had scouted the piney woods and shoreline with Nash. Deflection time. “I’m not surprised you photograph animals. You have some kind of...rapport...or something with all living creatures. It was downright eerie.”

      Nash shrugged and the warmth left his eyes. “Not really.”

      “Yes, you do,” Lily insisted. “Anytime we were in the woods it seemed the trees would fill with birds and we’d almost always startle a deer or raccoon by getting so near them. Once we even found that den of baby foxes—”

      “So what?” Nash cut in, lips set in a harsh, pinched line. “This place is so isolated even the animals are bored out of their minds. Makes them overly excited when anyone draws close.”

      Ouch. What kind of nerve had she hit with her innocent remark? “You used to love coming here in the summers,” she reminded Nash. “Said it was an escape from the city and a chance to run free.”

      “I get it.” His lips curled. “I’m Indian, so I must have a special communication with nature, right? Since we live so close to nature and worship Mother Earth and the Great Spirit and all. Well, that’s bullshit.”

      Damn. Her own temper rose at the unjust accusation. “I don’t deserve that. We used to be friends and I thought we still could be. Guess I was wrong. You’re nothing like the guy I used to hang out with every summer.”

      First Twyla and Bett, and now this. Lily jerked her cart forward, eager to escape the grocery trip from hell. Sexy or not, some men weren’t worth the trouble.

      Warmth and weight settled on her right shoulder. Fingers curled into her flesh, halting her steps. “Hey,” Nash said. “Look at me.”

      Lily turned. The harsh stranger melted and his face softened.

      “I’m СКАЧАТЬ