Sandpiper Way (Cedar Cove #8)(55)

“Thank you.” This was so embarrassing.

When he returned, he’d donned an overcoat, hat and gloves. “I’d like to see if I can get your vehicle started, if that’s all right.”

“Sure.” She gestured toward her car. “Have at it.”

James released the latch and raised the hood. He fiddled with the engine for a couple of minutes, then looked at her gravely.

“I believe you need a new alternator.”

“Wonderful.” She had no idea how expensive that would be, but it went without saying she couldn’t afford it. With rent and debts to pay, she was barely subsisting as it was.

“I’ll bring the car around,” James told her.

She nodded, still numb at the news. Somehow or other, she’d have to get the car towed from Teri’s to a repair shop. That wouldn’t be cheap, either. This couldn’t have happened at a worse time.

James slowly backed the limousine out of the garage. He stepped out and opened the passenger door for her.

“I can open my own door.”

“Yes, miss,” James said in the formal tone she hated.

“I told you before I don’t want you to call me miss.”

“You did,” he agreed.

“Then why do you insist on doing it? Do you look for ways to irritate me?” She was angry now. This entire evening had been a disaster and that was his fault. “Listen, I don’t need a ride, after all, thank you very much. I prefer to walk.” She slammed the car door, jerked her purse strap over her shoulder and started walking. The bells on her necklace jingled with every step. Her feet already hurt but it wasn’t as if she could take her shoes off.

She hadn’t gone more than a few yards when James silently joined her.

“Go away.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” When he didn’t respond, she added, “I don’t want you walking with me.”

“You’re alone. It isn’t safe.”

“I’ve been alone practically my whole life. I don’t need a bodyguard, understand?” She made her voice as hard and unwelcoming as she could.

“I know,” he said gently.

“What do you know?” She turned to glare at him. “You don’t know anything about me.” Her voice cracked and she buried her hands deep in her pockets, shivering against the cold.

“Christie.” His voice was soft, soothing, as if he were speaking to a child.

That irritated her even more. “Go away!” she shouted. “Just leave me alone. I don’t want you walking with me,” she said again. “Don’t you get it?” They hadn’t even reached the end of the long hilly driveway and already she was winded and her feet had begun to swell. Her apartment had to be a good five miles away.

He drew back slightly, but still he followed her.

“Everyone thinks you’re this big hero,” she muttered, trying to distract herself from the agony of walking. “You fought those two thugs and Teri says you might have saved Rachel’s life.” She stopped for a few seconds. “Only I know the real truth about you, James. You’re a coward, aren’t you?”

He said nothing.

Whirling around she confronted him face-to-face. “Did you hear me, coward?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

“No.”

The man infuriated her and she childishly stamped her foot—big mistake—before whirling back around and walking again. A blister had begun to form on her heel. She’d known the shoes, very cute ballet flats, were a size too small, but they’d been on sale and they went so nicely with her red sweater.

“Why are you limping?” he asked.

“I’m not. Go away.”

“Christie, be reasonable.”

“No!” she shouted back, struggling not to cry. “I hate my life, I hate myself and I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he said calmly.

The man was impossible to fight with. She’d had it. Turning abruptly, she placed her hands on her hips.

“What’s it going to take to get you to leave me alone?”

He didn’t respond.

“Fine, if that’s how you want it, walk behind me.” She made it all the way to the end of the street before she just couldn’t walk anymore. Her right shoe rubbed against raw, bloody flesh. Now she had to stop and remove it. She’d taken about five uneven steps when James came from behind her and casually swept her into his arms as if she weighed next to nothing.

“Put me down, you idiot!”

She wanted to kick and scream and argue with him. His jaw was tight, and from the angry set of his mouth she could see he wasn’t going anywhere without her.

She sniffled.

“Are you in pain?” he asked.

She nodded and sniffled again. “Why do you hate me?” she asked plaintively, furious with herself for caring. She didn’t want his gentleness or his kindness; they confused her.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You wouldn’t come to dinner tonight because I was there.”

He remained stubbornly silent.

After another minute, she demanded he put her down. “Please, please just leave me alone.” She was an emotional wreck. Tears stung her eyes, but the last thing, the very last thing, she wanted was for James to see her cry.