His chest moved as he inhaled deeply. "Aye."
"Top secret?" she whispered. "Are you fighting terrorists?"
He hesitated a moment before answering. "Ye could say that."
She nodded. His reluctance to speak on the subject made her fairly certain he was telling the truth. "You're on leave now?"
"Aye." He planted his hands on top of the wall, then drummed his long fingers on the plaster for a while before continuing. "My boss insisted I take some time off."
She blinked. "You're kidding. That's why I'm here. My boss wanted me to take time off, too."
He turned toward her, regarding her curiously. "Why? What do ye do?"
She didn't want to discuss her work with criminals. She was here to get away from all that. And besides, she enjoyed making this gorgeous man smile. "You were right from the beginning. I'm a Greek goddess. Zeus told me to take off a millennium or two."
His mouth tilted and his eyes twinkled. "I knew it. One look into yer eyes, and I could fall at yer feet."
Her cheeks grew warm. She didn't usually flirt like this. Normally, she was too busy analyzing people's feelings. With a jolt she realized she'd always been an observer before, not a participant. This was new and scary, but so much fun.
She lifted her chin. "No groveling allowed. Goddesses find that very annoying."
He smiled slowly. "If I fell to my knees, I'd find something better to do than grovel."
Her face blazed with heat. This was getting too hot to handle. "I work for the FBI," she blurted out.
His eyebrows shot up. "Do ye really?"
"Yes. We're in the same sort of business, Mr. MacKay. Catching bad guys."
He cocked his head, studying her. "Where are ye stationed?"
"Kansas City. You?"
"Wherever they need me. So ye really are a black belt in tae kwon do?"
He'd doubted her? She planted a hand on her hip. "I've been thoroughly trained in self-defense, Mr. MacKay."
A corner of his mouth dimpled. "My friends call me Robby."
Her heart pounded. "Are you calling me a friend?"
"Aye." He reached out and touched a strand of her hair that had escaped from the clip on the back of her head. "Does yer hair curl like this naturally?"
"I'm afraid so. It's impossible to deal with."
"I like it." He tugged on the strand till it was taut, then let go, and it bounced back into its normal corkscrew shape. He grinned. "A man could play with yer hair for hours." He touched her temple.
With a gulp, she stepped back. "I-I should check on my uncles. Would you like something to drink? Some hot tea?"
He lowered his hand. "I'm fine, thank you."
"I'll be right back." She dashed into the house and quickly set some water to boil on the stove. Chicken, she chided herself. She should have let him touch her, maybe even kiss her. But how could she trust him? She was so attracted to him, but as far as she knew, he was simply looking for a little fling to spice up his vacation.
She'd never been the type to indulge in a fling. Growing up with the ability to detect lies had caused her to avoid anything that smacked of insincerity. Besides, she would only be on the island for two weeks. Was that enough time to forge an honest, meaningful relationship? Did she dare even try it with a man she couldn't read? The unknown could be scary, but also very exciting.
She peered through the windowpane in the back door. He was still in the courtyard, amusing himself by peering through the telescope. Robby MacKay, a soldier on leave. She wondered how badly he'd been injured.
She fixed her cup of tea and carried it back to the courtyard. When he smiled at her, her heart stuttered. She was seriously falling fast.
She sat at the table and motioned for him to join her. "Are you sure I can't get you something to drink or eat?"
"I ate before I came." He sat beside her.
She liked the way his red hair glinted in the candlelight. It seemed rather long for a soldier, but it was neatly tied back. "How long will you be on Patmos?"
"About three more weeks." He hesitated a moment, then continued. "I'm ready to go back now, but my boss disagrees. He thinks I was traumatized or some such nonsense."
"Post-traumatic stress syndrome." Olivia sipped some hot tea. "It's very common among soldiers."
He shrugged one shoulder. "'Tis much ado about nothing. I know life is no' fair. There's no point in whining about it."
She gave him a worried look. "Sometimes it's healthier to talk things out. Repression can lead to serious side effects down the road, and I don't just mean emotional outbursts. It can affect your physical health."
He shot her an annoyed look. "I'm perfectly fine. And hell will freeze over before I'll talk to a damned psychologist."
She sucked in a quick intake of air. Her cup wobbled in her hand, and she set it down on the table.
He frowned at her. "What's wrong?"
Everything was wrong. Her heart plummeted into her stomach. She should have known this couldn't last.
His eyes narrowed with suspicion. He jumped to his feet and crossed the courtyard. "Bloody hell," he whispered. He turned back to her, regarding her with a look of horror. "Ye're a psychologist?"
She nodded slowly. "I think hell just froze over." For both of them.
CHAPTER 4
Robby paced across the courtyard. "Bugger. Bloody hell."
He glanced at Olivia, and a mixture of anger and futility surged through him. Damn it to hell. Just when he had his hopes up, everything came crashing down. For a few minutes he'd actually believed that his future could hold more than revenge and violence, and it had felt good.
He'd found a woman who was beautiful, clever, and adorable. She made him laugh. She opened a world of new possibilities, and to his surprise, he wanted it.
Even more surprising, she seemed to like him. He was definitely taken with her. She had soft brown eyes, thick black lashes, a perfect oval face, small straight nose, enticing pink mouth, all framed with a riot of black curls that made him want to dive in.
And she was so much more than a classic beauty. She was brave, witty, and kind. He couldn't recall ever laughing or smiling so much. For the first time in many years, he'd felt...blessed.
But the last surprise had been on him. He wasn't blessed. He was cursed.
He stopped at the wall and gazed at the dark sea, his gut churning like the waves. "Did ye think I wouldna figure it out? Ye can call Angus and tell him to piss off."
"I don't know Angus."
He whipped around to glare at her. "Of course ye do. He sent ye here."
She rose to her feet with a skeptical look. "The only Angus I've ever seen are cows, and they've never told me where to go."
Robby snorted. "Either Angus or Emma sent ye here. Ye're probably no' even Greek. Is yer name really Olivia?"
"Yes, it is. And I never claimed to be Greek. I'm American." She planted her hands on her hips, glaring at him. "And I don't lie."
"Are ye sure? Would ye care to introduce me, then, to yer four uncles who all happen to be professional wrestlers?"
"I ought to. You deserve the thrashing they'd give you."
He arched a brow. "Bring it on."
She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at him. "Okay. It was a slight embellishment, but just for self-protection. And now that we're being perfectly honest, I think you should leave."
He stiffened. She was rejecting him? Why was she upset? He was the one who'd been tricked into seeing a therapist. "Angus willna pay you unless ye do yer bloody therapy."
"I don't know Angus!" she shouted, then winced and glanced at the house. "We need to keep it down. I don't want to wake my - "
"Four uncles on steroids?" he growled.
She gave him a bland look. "Believe it or not, I have no interest in being your therapist. You're obviously too stubborn and paranoid to listen to reason."
"I'm no' paranoid!" He wasn't sure he could deny the stubborn part.
"You think there's a big conspiracy that brought me to this island just to be your therapist. That's paranoid, not to mention totally self-absorbed."
"Bloody hell. They sent ye here to insult me?"
"Paranoid," she muttered under her breath. "Who are 'they'? Aliens from another galaxy? Talking Angus cows who demand we eat more chicken?"