Walker shuffled impatiently through the papers on his desk looking for the report. Halfway down the first page he found the address of the homeowner in Rocky Bay, and on the second, the address of the property off Roche Harbor Road. The colour drained from his face and his lips compressed into a tight thin line.
The second address listed was that of his cabin.
He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his coat off the stand in the hall and dashed out the door.
***
Skye had been up since five breaking down the strings of computer code into single commands and was now a third of the way through the program. So far it performed as it should, registering every piece of legitimate information sent and received over the Internet from her PC. But she needed to test the software against unauthorized access from a hostile computer, and for that she required John's help.
She divided the screen into two separate windows, and connected to the Internet. She sat back and waited. If the software John was running in London infiltrated her laptop a warning message would pop up on her screen giving the IP address of the rogue computer. Nothing happened. At last she'd found the error. Now all she had to do was re-write the section of code, integrate it back into the program and get John to test it. It should only take another couple of days and then she could get back to enjoying what was left of her vacation.
Without warning the front door of the cabin burst open and Walker crossed the floor in a few quick strides. He yanked Skye to her feet.
"Are you okay?"
Skye's heart pounded in her chest. "Haven't you heard of knocking? You scared the living daylights out of me."
His voice was rough with anxiety. "I'm serious. Are you okay?"
"Why shouldn't I be? What the hell's the matter with you, Walker?"
He took a steadying breath and released her. "I heard about the incident with the fish and was worried about you. That's all."
"And that was enough for you to nearly take the door off its hinge? It was only a few fish for goodness sake. Besides, I was the one who found them. They stank to high heaven, I didn't even touch them."
He attempted to lighten the situation and play down his overreaction. "It can't have been a pleasant experience."
"It wasn't. But it doesn't explain why you came storming in here as if your tail was on fire."
He faked boyish grin. "Aren't you pleased to see me?"
Skye struggled not to laugh. "Where have you been all this time? A phone call would have been appreciated, or don't you have phones in Seattle?"
"I'm sorry about that. If you offer me a cup of coffee, I'll explain. You can hate me if you like, and then you can tell me what you've been up to since I went away."
Skye looked at him suspiciously. She returned his smile with a shake of her head. "A cup of coffee, huh? And I'm allowed to hate you as well? Seems fair. I'll put the kettle on."
Before she had chance to move, Walker pulled her into his arms and kissed her long and hard. All her resolve to stay angry shattered into a million pieces and she returned his kiss with reckless abandon, desire, and longing. When he turned her loose her heart was hammering in her ears. She cleared her throat, and tried to regain control of her wayward emotions.
“Coffee… right… hatred…"
She escaped to the safety of the kitchen. The man was downright dangerous, what with his devastating grin and lethal kisses.
"Apart from finding a pile of rotting fish on the beach, what else have you been up to?"
"Nothing very exciting; reading, walking, and watching the tide come in and go out."
"What's this?" He picked up the notepad from next to her laptop and scanned the page.
Skye handed him a cup of coffee, then snatched the pad from his hand. "Just something I've been working on. Nothing that would interest you."
"Thanks." He took the cup from her hand. "What makes you think I wouldn't be interested?" He nudged the mouse next to her laptop. The computer screen sprang to life and he stared at the jumble of symbols and letters before him. He glared at Skye. "What's this?"
"I told you, something I'm working on."
"Skye, I may not be a computer geek, but I recognize computer code when I see it. You're involved aren't you?" He slammed his mug down on the table and caught hold of her wrist.
"Involved?" Skye gasped. "Involved in what? It's what I do for a living. I’m a software designer."
"Oh yeah, and I fell off the proverbial turnip truck yesterday! I knew your turning up here was more than a coincidence. Your big blue eyes don't fool me anymore, honey." He squeezed Skye's wrist harder. There was a bitter edge of cynicism in his voice. "I'll get the truth out of you sooner or later, so you might as well admit it."
Skye screamed. "Admit what?" She freed her wrist from his iron-like grip, and rubbed it vigorously. "I honestly don't know what you're talking about. I'm telling you the truth. I design software. As for being here—I'm on vacation, but you know that."
"Do I? I don't know very much about you at all, now I come to think of it. You've never told me much about yourself. And my instincts tell me you're involved up to your sweet little neck."
Skye shook her head and nervously moistened her dry lips. "I'm not involved in anything. What's this all about? You disappear for days, you bastard, and then storm in here without so much as a word of warning. Now you're accusing me of—just what are you accusing me of?" Skye demanded in a shrill voice.
"You've been hacking into my company's computer, destroying files in an attempt to discredit me and my business."
Skye would have laughed out loud if she hadn't been so angry. She saw the steely glint in Walker's eyes, warning her that he was deadly serious. She turned her back on him, and went and stood by the fireplace. It gave her the opportunity to gather her thoughts.
"You're being cruel, presumptive and preposterous! Look, even if I were aware that you owned a company, which I wasn't until now, why would I want to hack into your computer to discredit you when I don't even know what it is you do?"
"I'm a marine biologist." He crossed the room and stopped inches from her.
Acutely conscious of his tall frame, Skye titled her head and stared into his eyes. "So tell me, Mr. Walker, why would a software designer want to hack into a computer belonging to a marine biologist, and yours in particular?"
"To find out how close I am to discovering who's responsible for dumping chemicals offshore?"
She threw up her hands in disgust. "What? You’re being ludicrous. You're forgetting one important thing—I don’t live in America!"
"No, but you can hack into a computer from anywhere in the world."
"True, but that's not the issue here."
"What is?"
"The truth and… trust? This is my first visit to the San Juan Islands. I don't know anyone here apart from you, so how could I be involved in anything illegal?"
"You might not be directly involved," Walker countered, "but someone could have hired you and sent you over here. You're a beautiful woman. They probably reckoned that your appearance here would attract my attention and that sooner or later you would find your way into my bed."
Walker's sarcasm was not lost on Skye. The lascivious glint in his eyes sickened her and before could stop it her hand shot out and she slapped his face.
"How dare you!" she said. She shook with anger. "How dare you think such a thing of me?"
Walker's face stung from the blow. He covered it with his hand. "Oh, lady, believe me, I dare, especially when my business and reputation are at stake." He clamped both her arms to her sides in case she had ideas about hitting him again.
"How many more times do I have to tell you? I don't know anything about any chemicals or illegal dumping. Besides, I can prove what I say is true."
Walker's lips twisted into a cynical smile. "Yeah? And just how do you propose to do that?"
"Let me call my business partner. He'll confirm everything I've said."
He relaxed his hold on her ar
ms. Skye stepped back, putting a little distance between them.
"He's probably in on it too. Why should I believe him anymore than I believe you?"
Skye's body sagged in defeat. She couldn't think of an answer that would convince Walker of her integrity. He was right. Although John could confirm everything she had said, there was no reason why Walker should accept it as the truth.
"You obviously won't listen to reason, so just get the hell out of my sight."
"Sorry, lady, but I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying here twenty-four/seven until either you tell me the truth or your friends with the nasty habits turn up to see why you're not keeping in touch."
"Now look here," Skye yelled. "You can't just waltz in here and accuse me of some hideous crime and ride roughshod over me. I have rights!" She glanced at the phone on the table next to the sofa, and weighed up her chances of reaching it before Walker.
"If you'd only be reasonable and listen to what I have to say, I’m sure we could clear this up," she continued. She softened her tone in the hope that he wouldn't notice she was edging her way towards the table.
Walker ran a hand through his hair. Arguing was getting him nowhere, but he wasn't about to change his mind. Skye was a world-class liar, he'd give her that. She may be beautiful, even passionate in bed, but the woman standing in front of him was five foot five inches of seething anger and he didn't trust her at all.
"Why don't you speak to the realtor? She will have checked my credentials before I rented the cabin. Perhaps she can convince you that I'm an honest, law-abiding citizen."
Skye took another tentative step towards the phone. She tried hard to be calm but under her anger, all the old feelings of betrayal were flooding back. It was as if Michael was grabbing her, threatening her all over again. He was as bad as Michael. He was Michael! The cold hand of fear touched her skin. Walker didn't care about her at all. He'd used her just like Michael had used her and once again her trust had sadly been misplaced, but this time she wasn't about to be used against her will.
Walker frowned, his eyes level under drawn brows. "The only thing the realtor is interested in is whether your credit card was good. Besides, there are such things as false bank accounts. Sorry, lady, that doesn't stand up. Any more suggestions?"
If she could just keep Walker distracted, she might be able to make a lunge for the phone.
"You stayed here for three days and three nights. Doesn't that tell you anything about me? If I'm involved as you suggest, don't you think I would have pumped you for information?"
"Too obvious, although I have to say the innocent act you put on, even in bed, had me fooled for a while. In future remember that once you let the passion genie out of the bottle, it gets real hard to play the naïve lover. It's just a pity I left when I did, otherwise I might have got to enjoy your full repertoire."
Skye's breath came out in a rush. "You bastard! Do you really think I'm the type of woman who’d use her body to get something?"
"It's been my experience that most do," he replied.
"That says a lot for the type of person you are and the company you keep," Skye retorted angrily. "I've never slept with a man just because I wanted something." She was through with trading insults, and wished with all her soul she were somewhere else.
"So you say." Deep down, he knew Skye was telling the truth, but wasn't about to apologise for his crassness. The look she gave him would have curdled milk and rather than face her icy stare, he looked away.
Skye made a grab for the phone. But the man had the reflexes of a boxer and before her fingers had punched in nine-one-one, a strong hand circled her wrist and removed the instrument from her hand.
"That was a real stupid move, Skye."
"Let go of me."
"What, so you can call your buddies? No chance. You and I haven't finished our little chat yet."
"I wasn't calling ‘my buddies’ as you put it. I was calling the police. Let them sort this out. Let me go," she pleaded. "I promise I'll leave as soon as they've been and you'll never have to see me again. You can even put me on the next plane to London yourself."
"Sorry, no deal. I'm staying right here, whether you like it or not. Flashing your big blue eyes isn't going to work. Either tell me who's behind this, or shut up!"
"How many more times do I have to say it? I am telling the truth. I'm working on a project that's due to be presented to the Gov… to clients in a few weeks’ time." If only she was in a position to reveal who her client was he might believe her, but she wasn't. "At least let me shut down my laptop."
Walker's voice was edged with control. "Okay, but then give it to me."
Skye snorted indignantly. "Since you're so determined to impose your presence on me, I'll fetch some blankets and a pillow—you can sleep in the spare room."
"No need. As I said, I'm not letting you out of my sight for one moment until this is over and means I share your bed."
Panic welling in her throat. "Now wait a minute. If you think—"
Walker interrupted her. His face was a mask of stone. "I've had about as much as I can take, Skye. My patience is wearing real thin. The subject is not open for discussion. If you know what's good for you, you'll—"
"I'll what? Behave like the whore you obviously think I am? No way. You may be able to force me into sharing a bedroom with you, but I'd rather sleep on the floor than sleep in the same bed as a bastard like you!"
"Whatever. It doesn't change a thing. Now, unless you want me to toss your laptop into the sea, why don't you shut it down and hand it over?"
Skye looked away swiftly. Walker's expression held a note of mockery and she couldn't stand the cold-eyed smile he was giving her any longer. She went to the table and did as he requested. It was futile trying to reason with him. For the time being at least, she had little choice but to accept his presence in the cabin. She could only hope that either she could find a way to prove her innocence or someone would come looking for her and she'd be free of this terrible, frightening sham of a relationship.
Chapter Eighteen
Skye stared moodily out of the window at the ever-darkening sky and mulled over the events of the evening. Deep down, she seethed with anger and frustration. How Walker could believe she was involved in anything as abhorrent as illegal dumping, was beyond her comprehension. The only plausible explanation she could come up with was the man must be temporarily insane. And he'd hurt her, too. She rubbed her wrist, the same one Michael had injured not more than a year ago.
Logic must prevail. Logic. It was what she was known for. She could see how he might assume she was guilty of hacking into his computer. But no one in their right mind dumped chemicals in their own backyard. Not if they had more than two brain cells to rub together. And besides, the Alaskan wilderness was only a few hundred miles up the coast. There were ample isolated spots, not to mention a whole ocean to poison, so why pick a populated place at all? It just didn't add up, unless of course you wanted to deliberately discredit someone.
But it still didn't explain how Walker concluded that there was a connection between her, the illegal accessing of his company's computers and the dumping of chemical waste around the islands. The man was downright pig-headed and insufferable, not to mention unapproachable and stubborn, mean and judgmental. She wouldn't be the least bit surprised if he'd done more than ruffle a few feathers in his career—he probably had thousands of ruffled feathers to his credit.
If only she could penetrate the deliberate blankness present in his eyes, then she would offer to secure his computer system. But as it was, he could toast evenly over a spit in hell before she'd lift a finger to help him. She had better things to do with her time than agonize over his problems. She had to find a way out of this terrible mess.
A wave of apprehension swept through her. She felt intimidated and wary of Walker. His physical presence filled every inch of the small cabin. He was much stronger than she and there was no telling what he might do while he was in this black mood.
It was vital she remain calm and avoid riling him. She had to find away to reach him, to make him listen, and then convince him she was innocent.
Walker sat in the armchair next to the fireplace reading a book. Skye regarded him with a speculative gaze. Two deep lines of worry creased her brow. How could he appear so calm and relaxed? His emotions didn't just turn on a dime; they turned on pennies, nickels and quarters as well. One moment he was hot and accusing, the next just sitting! He should be out there trying to catch whoever was responsible for this environmental disaster rather than lounging around on his backside. If it were her business at risk she'd be pushing out all the stops to protect her reputation.
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