She hurried to find her sketchbook and pencils, intending to sit on the balcony and draw with the full view of the ocean before her. Only, this far away the vibe wasn’t quite the same. She needed to get up closer and steep herself in the colors and textures of the scene. It was important that she connect with her surroundings.
Alex need never know, she decided as she left the house. Heck, she wasn’t going to be told what to do anyway. If she wanted to go down to the beach, she would. This was her work, and she wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity just to appease a husband who was busy with his own work anyway.
Of course, walking along the dirt path to the beach hadn’t seemed scary when she was with Alex, but now she could hear all sorts of noises in the grass that reminded her of snakes.
She picked up a long stick just in case, and made sure her footsteps trod heavily, hoping any slithery surprises would hear her coming and disappear into the longer grass.
It was a relief when she reached the beach, but she didn’t want to think about the walk back to the house so she put it out of her mind. In next to no time, she’d made herself comfortable on the sand, with a small grassy dune at her back as she reached for her pencils, blocked out the world and began to let the magic take over.#p#分页标题#e#
She had no idea how long she stayed there, but it wasn’t until a shadow fell across her that she realized it must have been a while, perhaps even a couple of hours. She looked up and angled her chin, expecting it to be Alex. Only the man standing there didn’t resemble her husband at all.
In his fifties, he leaned forward and looked at the design on the paper. “Is that going to be in your next collection?”
A reporter.
Ignoring him, she quickly closed her sketchbook and got to her feet. In her haste, she dropped the book and gasped when he scooped it up before she could.
She held out her hand. “That belongs to me. If you don’t return it I’ll call the police.”
“Little lady, I intend to return it,” he said with a smirk. “After you answer a few questions for me.”
An interview.
“Look, you obviously know who I am. You must also know that I’m on my honeymoon.” She wanted to snatch the book out of his hand, but she made herself stay calm.
“Speaking of honeymoons, I’m surprised your husband lets you out of his sight.”
She knew that whatever she said could be misconstrued. If she said Alex was working, this man would make something of it and report that their marriage was already on the rocks. If she said Alex was napping, the papers would report him ill, or worse, on his deathbed.
“He’ll be along shortly,” she said, hoping to give herself time to reason with this man.
He snorted.
And then, miracle of miracles, she saw Alex striding toward them, a thunderous expression on his face that she knew was for her. “See, I told you,” she told the older man and was pleased to see him blanch. Good. He was nothing but a bully.
“What’s going on here?” Alex demanded, stepping close, putting himself between her and the other man in a protective fashion.
She could afford to relax a little now. “Alex, no need to worry. I dropped my sketchbook and this, er…man was just giving it back.” She held out her hand. “I’ll take that now, thank you.”
The reporter looked at Alex then at her, then finally gave it back. “Here we are, little lady.”
Olivia took it, pretending she didn’t want to snatch it to her breast. And if he called her “little lady” again she’d probably hit him with it.
Alex turned to Olivia. “Right. Lunch is ready,” he said, then taking her by the elbow he shot the other man a hard look and led her away, a bit like a hardened criminal on the run. Any moment now, she expected him to bring out the handcuffs.
Once out of earshot and on the dirt path back to the house, he growled, “What the hell were you thinking, coming down here by yourself?”
She shrugged, hoping to dislodge his hand, but his grip was firm. “I needed to do my designs and the best place for that was down here at the beach.”
“I told you I would bring you down here myself.”
“You were working. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“I prefer that you disturb me.” He shot her a searing sideways gaze. “See what can happen when you don’t listen?”
She frowned. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?”
His jaw clenched. “No.”
“But—”
“No buts. The guy was a reporter who would have stolen your designs if I hadn’t turned up. And there wouldn’t have been a bloody thing you could have done about it.”