Business on the island, he decided, was as good as reported.

He continued walking, pleased to see that while traffic was light, it was steady. He had some ideas that he intended to implement there, now that his father had finally released the reins.īut business would wait, for once, until the personal was dealt with. The Gothic stone building was the island's only hotel, and it belonged to him. He turned on High Street and paused to take a long look at the Magick Inn. Sam didn't mind wheedling, as long as he won. He intended to use that, if need be, to wheedle his way back into her good graces. Mia had always had a head for business and a view for profit. A businesswoman, he thought with a half laugh. In the time between, the girl he'd left behind had become a woman. Now, he was deliberately ending that exile. He'd ended them, and had exiled himself, deliberately, from the island and from Mia. Those days were over, he thought as he climbed the road toward High Street and the stretch of pretty shops and offices. He'd have heard her laugh as she raced into his arms. Once she would have been standing on the dock to meet him, her glorious red hair flying, her smoky eyes alight with pleasure and promise. He'd known every expression on her face, every inflection of her voice. The fact was, he didn't know what to expect from Mia. Īnd perhaps, he admitted, because he wanted a little more time to prepare himself before seeing the woman he'd come back for. He parked near the ferry dock because he wanted to walk, to smell the salty spring air, to hear the voices from the boats, to see the life flowing along on the little bump of land off the coast ofMassachusetts. He'd come home and hadn't realized, not completely, what that meant to him until he'd gotten there. But the delight in seeing what had changed, and what hadn't, surprised him by its depth. He shouldn't have been so surprised by the pull and tug, or by the sheer simplicity of pleasure. And the drama of the cliffs where the stone house stood beside the white lance of the island lighthouse. Over a decade since he'd seen - except in his mind - the wedges of forest, the scatter of houses, the curve of beach and cove. It had been more than ten years since he'd stood on the island.

Nora roberts face the fire series