5 "He makes my fingers tingle"

Her womanly charms surprised him. All that red hair in a thick wavy tail trailing down her back, and those eyes, green as the budding leaves on the farm...

The freckles across her skin had surprised him further. At a distance she appear pale and thin, but within arm's length her complexion glowed like the setting sun, and her shape had the litheness of a willow.

But what caught him most was the heat in his groin when his name tumbled from her lips in a voice made for the night.

Shame slashed through him. How could he think of another woman? Darby had been the love of his life for seventeen years. No one could replace her.

Shoulder lifting on an extensive breath, he returned to the wicker chair. Slouching forward, he shoved his hands into his hair.

He was so tired, tired of the loneliness, of hurting and grieving, and wishing time was reversible. He needed to move on, really move on. For Danny and for himself, living like a monk wasn't the answers.

Johnny was right. Hiding on an island wasn't the answer either. Because no matter how hard Rogan tried, the memories dragged along like tattered old blankets. Well, right or wrong he'd made the choice, and next week he'd hang out his shingle. But first, he needed to cajole the lovely Lee into taking him tomorrow in that confined little seaplane.

He looked toward the bed-and-breakfast. He had her business number from her Sky Dash Web site. He could call her, except two hours ago he'd seen her drive up in a red jeep and drove into the Victorian. Another surprise, did she live here, rent a room?

He could call the main desk and ask for her extension. Or he could wait until morning, talk face-to-face on the wharf, hand her a wad of bills she couldn't refuse.

For the first time in years, his heart pounded with anticipation.

.....

Lee's sister, Kat, cut a wedge of dessert and lifted it onto her plate.

"I can't believe you're refusing my apple crumble," she groused. Dinner done, the dishes washed, they sat in the living room of Kat's B&B, while her son finished a school assignment in his bedroom. "Are you sick or something?"

Lee shrugged. "Lately I haven't been very hungry." In reality, she'd been a tad woozy now and again during the past month, which Could be a symptom for a dozen ailments. A stomach bug, eating the wrong food...

Except, she couldn't remember the last time she had the flu. But she knew exactly when she'd last had a bout of evening wooziness.

Five years ago, when she'd been pregnant with Stuart's baby.

Damn it, she wasn't pregnant. This was a bug she'd caught from one of her weekend passengers or Kat's son Blake. Hadn't he missed a day or two of school last week due to a virus?

Of course, it was the flu. She and Oliver had been careful.

"Hey". Kat's brown eyes were serious. "you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine. Just thinking about Oliver." And the possibility I could be pregnant. The thought churned through her stomach. God help her, but what would she do if she was....?No. She wouldn't even consider it. How many years had she tried with Stuart and failed? This was simply her out-of-whacks periods acting up.

Kat puts down her fork. "His death hurt you more than your divorce from Stuart."

"Yeah," Lee admitted.

"That's because Oliver Damon was your best friend since grade school, Lee. You two had a lot of history."

She didn't want to discuss Oliver, or the fact that she missed him more than she'd ever missed her ex-husband after her divorce.

No, what she wanted was to discuss Rogan Matt.

" He makes my fingers tingle." There - - - - it was out in the open. Matt's effect on her.

"Oliver made your fingers tingle?" Kat curled into the sofa's corner with a cup of tea.

"No..... Argh." Lee rested her head on the back of the couch. "Rogan Matt. Your guest. Tonight, he introduced himself while I was checking my plane. Apparently, he wants transportation To and Fro to the mainland for a couple of weeks."

Kat laughed. "Ah...I see."

"It's not funny," Lee retorted.

"Attractions usually aren't."

"I'm not attracted to him," Lee said, vexed that her sister had jumped to conclusions.

"Oh, I can see that," Kat said. "Mr Hunk walks up the pier, pins you with his sorrowful eyes while the winds plays in all that sexy black hair and the he opens his mouth and out comes an accent that would make Matthew McConaughey weep, and your fingers gets an irritable little tingle. Yep, you're definitely not attracted."

Lee closed her eyes." This is the silliest discussion I've had since sixth grade."

" Back at you, sis. But it's good you're attracted, don't you think? After your divorce from the rat B, and then hooking up with poor Oliver, it means----"

" It means Rogan Matt is a potential fare, Kat. That's all." Lee didn't want to think about poor Oliver or she'd be crying into her pillow half the night. Nor did she want to think she was dishonoring him eight weeks after his death by eyeing up another man. Jeez, that alone made her nauseous. She was not her mother. Not.

"okay," Kat conceded, "he's a fare. So are you flying him?"

"I haven't decided. It's a big responsibility getting someone to work every day."

"Oh, heck," Kat scoffed. "Take the guy. If after a week he's too much of a hassle, tell him to go with Lucien."

Lee sighed. Her sister had a point. She was making far too much of all this. And just because Matt had kind eyes.

Like Oliver's.

Oliver. Best friend turned lover weeks ago, while on a six weeks furlough from Iraq. Before he returned to war. Before he was killed by sniper fire.

For three years after her divorce, Lee had avoided relationships;tamped down the remotest inclination towards desire. Then Oliver Damon had returned to Jeju Island, and she'd never been so glad to see her childhood friend. When she thought of his death...