up a metal paper clip over the gas hob to sterilise it. I’ll put the tip of the paper clip into the base of your nail and the heated metal will burn a hole through the nail and allow the blood to escape.’ She looked at him. ‘Are you going to be okay with that?’
‘If you told me you were going to hack off my thumb with a machete, I’d probably be okay with it right now,’ he said, his square jaw clamping. ‘Just do what you have to do.’
She smiled softly at his terse response, and proceeded with the operation. ‘This shouldn’t hurt,’ she said. ‘You should feel instant relief when the hole is opened up.’ She removed the paper clip as soon as the blood began to spurt, and he took over from her then, mopping up with the swabs as the wound oozed.
‘Phew,’ he managed after a while. ‘That is so much better. Thank you. I owe you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ She bundled the paper clip and used swabs into a plastic bag and threw them into the nearby bin. ‘As soon as the bleeding stops, I’ll apply an antibiotic ointment and cover it with a dressing strip. Keep it dry for a couple of days…and you ought to go and get an X-ray, just in case anything is broken.’
‘I doubt that will be necessary,’ he said. ‘All they’ll do is give me a finger splint to make it more comfortable and charge my insurance company for the privilege.’
She acknowledged that with a nod. Things were different over here in the States. Medical services had to be paid for on the spot. It was a very different system from the one in the UK.
‘You’ll probably lose your fingernail,’ she warned him, ‘but it will grow back in about six months.’
He gave a soft laugh. ‘I don’t mind losing such a tiny part of me,’ he said. ‘Here, let me help tidy up.’ He took over from her, and she went over to the sink to wash her hands.
‘Rob said he had stocked up on provisions for me before he left,’ she said, going over to the fridge and peering inside. ‘I can offer you orange juice, or coffee, if you prefer?’
‘Coffee sounds great.’ He looked around the kitchen while she added coffee grounds to the percolator. ‘This all looks new,’ he said in an appreciative tone, his glance taking in the pale wood of the units and the decorative glass panelling of the wall cupboards. ‘I don’t recall any of this. Last time I was here, there was an old kitchen range and oak units.’
‘Really?’ That must have been some time ago, before her parents had bought the place, Lacey guessed. Perhaps he’d dropped by every now and again to visit whoever had owned the house back then. Clearly, Rob hadn’t invited him in but, then, Rob tended to be a very private person.
He nodded and continued to gaze around the room. It was a spacious kitchen, well set out in a U-shaped formation, with a breakfast area at one end by the French doors. Beyond those was decking that looked out over the orange grove and distant mangroves. ‘I suppose you must have had it remodelled. This house is quite a few years old, isn’t? Though you wouldn’t know it to look at it.’
‘Yes, it is. My parents bought it about twelve years ago, but I believe it was built long before that. Around fifty years or more, I should imagine.’ She smiled briefly. ‘It has certainly stood the test of time. As to the kitchen, I remember the old one but my mother had it modernised some three years ago, along with the rest of the house. My parents used to come here whenever they could. My father worked for a shipping company, and his job took him all over the world, but my parents always tried to make it back here for the holidays—they would stay here for several weeks during the summer months.’
His gaze was pensive. ‘I was probably in Miami during those years. My parents moved next door when I was away at university, and I only came back here to stay some eighteen months ago. They passed on some time ago and my brother kept an eye on the place until he had to go to work in Jacksonville.’
‘I’m sorry—about your parents, I mean. I know what it’s like to lose family.’ She was quiet for a moment or two, her thoughts dwelling on the events of the past.
Then she dragged her mind back to the present. Jake’s absence in Miami would most likely explain why they had never met.
She poured the coffee and then pushed the mug towards him. ‘Help yourself to cream and sugar.’ She frowned as she checked the contents of the fridge and freezer. ‘I’m starving. All I’ve had to eat today is the meal on the plane, but it looks as though Rob has left me a choice of quick snacks. I could rustle up some empanadas if you’re interested?’ Getting to know the new neighbour worked both ways, and this seemed like an opportunity not to be wasted.
‘Wow. The girl next door is turning out to be full of incredible talents…emergency medicine, culinary arts…’ His blue-grey eyes took on a gleam of mischief. ‘And she looks good, too. Seems to me things are definitely looking up.’
‘I wouldn’t get too far ahead of yourself, if I were you,’ she retorted in a dry tone, switching on the oven and reaching into the freezer for a stack of pastry shells. ‘You haven’t tasted my cooking yet. Anyway, the pastry’s the supermarket frozen variety.’ She separated the pastry discs onto a piece of parchment paper. ‘Besides, considering that I was on my way over to your place to investigate the disturbance, we may still end up having our disagreements. I can’t say I’m a fan of late-night noise.’
His mouth made a crooked shape. ‘I’m sorry about that. I wanted to work on the boat, and I felt pretty secure in thinking that I wouldn’t be disturbing anyone, with Rob away from home. Wrongly, as it turns out.’
‘It looks like a big project. Have you done it all yourself?’ Lacey started to prepare the fillings for the empanadas, layering strips of chicken, bacon and cheese on top of the pastry.
‘Yes, all of it. It’s just a hobby. There’s something incredibly satisfying about working with wood…the smell, the feel of it, the finished product.’
‘What wood are you using? Oak’s a good hardwood, isn’t it?’
He nodded. ‘It is. Actually, I’ve been using a variety of wood-oak for the timbers and floors, cedar for the planks. The inwales, thwart risers and sheer strakes are larch.’
She had been folding the pastry into little dough packets, crimping the edges, but now she paused, giving him a long look from under golden lashes. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Sorry.’ He grinned. ‘It all gets a bit technical and I get carried away sometimes. Boat building tends to bring out the fanatic in me.’
Her mouth made a faint upward curve. ‘So I see.’ She placed a baking tray, loaded with empanadas, into the hot oven. ‘I’m not sure I understood quite what you were doing back there, hammering thick cotton wadding between the planks.’ She rubbed her hands on a clean towel and lifted the mug of coffee to her lips, taking a satisfying swallow. Then she arched her spine and rubbed at a knot of tension in the small of her back. It had been a long day.
He watched her, his gaze moving languorously over her, stroking her feminine curves, a flicker of interest darting in the blue depths of his eyes.
Lacey straightened. She knew that entirely male look, and she was suddenly all too conscious of her actions. The last thing she needed was to have him pay her that much attention. She was through with men, at least relationship-wise. They complicated things, promised the earth and a lifetime of love and then let you down when things didn’t go their way.
Jake smiled. ‘They call it caulking.’
She frowned. ‘Caulking?’ For a second or two, she had completely lost the drift of their conversation. The plain truth was the male of the species was a liability. You never knew where you were with them. And this man was probably no exception. He was only here in her kitchen because he had set her on a path of investigation.
‘Think of it as padding,’ he said helpfully, and she struggled to bring her thoughts under control once more. ‘The material fills in the wedge between the planks and makes sure that