a sigh of relief when she made it off the bridge and lifted her head to give thanks. Hopefully, she’d be going back across before dark. If old man Chambers didn’t agree to the interview she would be leaving the island a lot sooner than that. Refusing to consider he wouldn’t do the interview, she squared her shoulders and drove on, following the one-lane road that, according to her GPS, would lead her right to the sanctuary where Dr. R. J. Chambers lived and worked. She had spent the last two days trying to get as much information on the man as she could. There had been plenty, on his Facebook page and in Wikipedia. Both of those had provided a picture of a distinguished-looking man in his late sixties or early seventies. However, nothing she’d researched had provided anything else about his identity and whereabouts. Bobby was right. The man was living the life of a recluse.
She rounded a curve in the road and quickly brought the car to a stop when her breath caught. “Wow!”
Ainsley wasn’t exactly sure what she had expected of Chambers’s home but it definitely hadn’t been this. The view while driving across the bridge had been spectacular, but this here was so magnificent it actually left her breathless.
Tucked away amid the tallest oak trees she’d ever seen was a sprawling three-story house with over eight hundred feet of beachfront. It was early January, yet all the leaves were a deep evergreen. It was as if spring had come early here while some places farther north were snow covered.
The house itself looked as if it could hold four or five families easily. But she figured most of the rooms were where Dr. Chambers did his work. The man usually published a book every eighteen months, in addition to being a regular contributor to numerous marine publications. But the drug before the FDA was rumored to be his biggest achievement yet and already several pharmaceutical companies wanted his named linked to their corporation. So far he had committed to none.
Her gaze traveled to the sky, saw the strength of the sun and how it appeared to kiss the blue-green waters of the ocean. She could imagine waking up to such a view every morning. The old man was a recluse and now she could see why. If she had this at her fingertips, she would never leave the island, either. She could imagine sitting on the docks nursing a margarita while enjoying the view of endless water. She wasn’t surprised that a man, successful in the study of eliminating sexual dysfunction, would live on a private island like a king.
After parking the car, she got out and glanced around. She expected a member of Chambers’s staff to appear and tell her that she was trespassing. When it became obvious no one would be there to intercept her, she began walking around the gate trying to find a good place to enter. After risking her life by driving across that bridge, there was no way she was leaving without attempting to see Dr. Chambers.
Winston muttered a curse when the buzzer went off in his lab. Someone was on his property. He pushed away from the huge aquarium and angrily snatched the work gloves off his hands. He was in the middle of cleaning out one of his tanks and there was no reason to get interrupted. Evidently someone hadn’t read the huge sign before crossing the bridge. It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. He had thought about removing the bridge completely, which meant he could only use his boat whenever he needed to get to Hilton Head or Parris Island. But why should he be inconvenienced because someone refused to adhere to his wishes?
Ignoring the dolphins flipping around in the huge tank as he passed by, he checked his watch. It would be feeding time for them soon and, with all he had to do, he should stay on schedule. He moved into the lobby of his work area and picked up the remote to turn on the nearest security monitor. A flat screen mounted on the wall flared to life and he immediately saw the car parked on the west side of his property.
Switching to other security channels, he didn’t see a thing. York, a former officer for the NYPD, who owned a high-tech security firm in New York, had installed the state-of-the-art system himself. And knowing how much of a stickler York was to detail, it would be just a matter of time before Charley discovered the location of his intruder.
Charley was the name he’d given the talking security system that had the capability of scanning not only every inch of the island but up to one hundred feet of the waterways, to alert him of any intruders arriving by boat, as well. At first it had been hard getting used to the talking device since it seemed to have a mind of its own at times. It reminded him of Kitt, the voice of the talking Trans Am in the Knight Rider TV series.
“Warning. Warning,” Charley blasted. “Trespasser. East grounds.”
“Scan perimeters, Charley,” Winston ordered, switching out of his work shoes into a pair of Nike shoes.
“Vehicle located. Rental. Currently empty.”
“Tell me something I haven’t figured out for myself,” he muttered to the machine.
Charley’s light began flashing. “Repeat command. Didn’t understand. Failed communication.”
Winston rolled his eyes. “Find trespasser and scan.”
He was halfway through the door when Charley blasted out the information. “Found. Female. East grounds.”
Winston nodded as he went toward the door. So his intruder was a woman. Well, she had a lot of explaining to do. Not only had she crossed the bridge to his property when she should not have, but somehow she had gotten through the east gate. The only way she could have done that was by picking the lock.
“Notify authorities?” Charley asked.
“No” was Winston’s single response before stepping out the door. Whoever the brazen woman was, he would handle her himself.
Making his way to the balcony, he saw a glimpse of her as she quickly crossed the east patio. He took the stairs two at a time as he moved up to the main floor. Easing open the French doors, he stood concealed by several huge plants. It would only be a matter of time before she came dashing his way.
Suddenly, there was a stirring in the pit of his groin and he wondered why. Then he knew. His nostrils had picked up a scent and it was the same fragrance that had remained with him for the past week and a half. The same scent he woke to each morning and went to bed with at night. The scent of the woman whose memory just wouldn’t leave him.
Red.
A fine time for his imagination to run wild, he thought. Steeling his mind against the scent he wished like hell he could forget, he pressed against the wall, determined that whoever she was, she wouldn’t slip past him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a slender figure and then a flash of blue. And then as if on cue, he emerged from his hiding place and grabbed her by the arm, bringing her body to his. “Look, lady, this is private property. You have no right to be here. And you’re leaving now!”
She fought, trying to reclaim her arm but he held tight in an attempt to drag her back to where her car was parked.
“Let go of me, you ass.”
Something about that voice, as well as the scent that continued to corrode his senses, made him loosen his hold on her at the same time she swung around and lifted her foot to deliver a firm kick in his groin. He jumped out of the way and his jaw dropped when he saw her face. “Red?”
She gasped and froze when she pushed all that hair from her face. Shock etched her features and rendered her speechless for a moment. Finally she regained her voice. “Winston?”
He continued to stare at her while struggling to decipher just why she was there. Seeing her again did something to him. It was as if a keg of dynamite filled with lust suddenly exploded inside his entire body. Without thinking, he reached out, pulled her close and captured her mouth with his.
Ainsley had intended to shove him away, bite his tongue, or scream in protest … however, she did none of those things. The moment her senses reacquainted with his taste, a taste she hadn’t been able to forget, there was nothing she could do but stand there and moan.
And while doing so she disregarded everything, including the way his hands moved all over her body, over her curves, cupping her backside and tightening around