Read Tides of Love (Seaswept Seduction Series) for Free Online Page A

after he sailed in, just to make sure.
    Old habits died hard.
    He glanced at the footprint again and nudged his spectacles up. He would have expected this nonsense from the girl with apples stuffed under her skirt, the girl who had made sure Christabel's gibe lasted by spending an entire summer scratching the marks in deeper. What did this mean coming from the woman who flaunted surprisingly generous curves, ruby curls, and a plump bottom lip he could barely tear his gaze from? Noah dashed sand across the troublesome footprint and sank to his heels.
    If Elle thought to tangle him in knots, he would show her he wasn't willing. He wasn't willing to let her read his mind either, even if he suspected her talent had faded long ago.
    He entertained women out of necessity. Institute dinners, charity events, and alleviation of his sporadic pangs of desire. He didn't have the former to contend with and could live without the latter for a while yet. In fact, maybe he should tell Elle she didn't interest him. In the slightest.
    Noah watched the sun slip low in the sky, his mood lifting. Life always progressed better with a plan in mind.
    * * *
    Elle rounded the corner of Widow Wynne's house, mumbling beneath her breath. A brisk breeze, close to cold, sliced through her coat but failed to cool her ire. What cheek! Questioning her ability to care for a six-year-old boy. Presumptuous, conceited... man. Noah Garrett could take his raised brows and his neat-as-a-pin clothing, his fish talk and his stiff backside, and—
    "Marielle."
    Elle pinched the bridge of her nose and halted. Mercy above, would this day ever end? "Magnus."
    He sat on the porch's brick steps, long legs encased in striped trousers, ones tailored during his bimonthly excursions to Raleigh. An imported cigar dangled from his lips, the stink recalling their brief courtship. Favorable memories, most of them. Favorably dull. "You seemed to be in another world for a moment, Marielle. A little flushed around the cheeks. Is that ire on your lovely face?"
    She raked him with a caustic glance she hoped would send him on his way. "What do you want, Magnus?"
    He lifted a newspaper from his lap, offered it to her. "Just thought you might enjoy reading this. Tomorrow's edition of the Weekly Messenger. I stopped by the office to see if my advertisement had been placed. I'm announcing my new location, you may recall?"
    She snatched the newspaper from his hand. Of course, she remembered. She had helped him select the plot of land.
    "I think you'll find this of interest," he said, his voice wavering as it did when he tried to contain laughter.
    Her lips moved as she read, a habit she had never been able to break. Noah Garrett, brother of Zachariah and Caleb, sailed from Morehead City on the Adele—
    Elle crumpled the newspaper in her fist and raised her head. "Why are you bringing this to me? What can you possibly hope to gain? You humiliated me in front of the entire town, letting everyone know you decided to end our engagement. What more do you want? You have your pride and your medical practice."
    Magnus's gaze began to smolder, no longer shining civilly for the sake of propriety. "You really are as unbalanced as some think if you believe the situation to be so simple. You made a fool of me , a circumstance I have trouble overlooking, my dear. Everyone knew you felt only relief when I failed to attend our engagement soiree."
    She slapped the newspaper against her thigh. "A dinner party, Magnus. It was a simple dinner party."
    Standing, he flung his cigar to the ground and descended the steps with a deliberate gait she realized contained a fair measure of anger. "A particularly fierce look was on your face when you rounded the corner of the house, Marielle. Who were you thinking of? I never witnessed any emotion except the unfocused, albeit attractive, expression of boredom. Pity even. What could paint such a rosy bloom on your cheeks? Or, should I say, who?" He moved forward, his elbow