Guarding His Heart Read online

  Some people get under your skin. Some get into your heart…

  Bestselling author Liam Wyndham needed an escape, and Half Moon Bay, with its small town charm and beautiful ocean, is the perfect place to hide out from the scandal surrounding his estranged dead wife. A place where he can enjoy his writer’s block in sweet isolation. But all of his plans to become a surly recluse disappear when carpenter Georgie Sacchi marches into his house…

  Georgie wants an adventure, and she has a plane ticket that promises her everything she needs—excitement, independence, and a way to escape the memory of her last ruined relationship. Still, she has one last job to complete before she can leave the country. The last thing she needs is a recalcitrant author with a gorgeous face (and a hot body) distracting her from her plans.

  But life doesn’t always give you what you think you need…

  Guarding His Heart

  a Half Moon Bay novel

  Annie Seaton

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Annie Seaton. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Bliss is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. For more information on our titles, visit http://www.entangledpublishing.com/category/bliss

  Edited by Erin Molta

  Cover design by Jessica Cantor

  Cover art by iStock

  ISBN 978-1-63375-219-1

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition March 2015

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Annie Seaton

  Find your Bliss with these great releases... Love Songs for the Road

  Just for the Summer

  Her Backup Boyfriend

  Falling for Her Soldier

  Resisting Her Rival

  Last Chance Proposal

  To Ian, my wonderful husband of many years…you are always there for me.

  Chapter One

  Liam Wyndham rested the paddle on the front of the small kayak while he caught his breath. The small waves at the beach break rocked the small craft gently in the light breeze. He’d been paddling for an hour and had managed to clear his mind—almost. He looked up to the top of the cliff and examined the sprawling old house that looked to be teetering on the edge of the rocky cliff. The view of the house was completely different from the sea. Located six miles south of the small community of Nebbiton, just off Highway 1, it suited him very well. There was only one other house close by and it had been in darkness, with no sign of life in the week since he’d moved in.

  Apparently, according to the local Realtor, the owners had moved to New York for work, and that made the location even more attractive. He wanted no interruptions and desired no neighborly company. All he wanted was a place where he could lick his wounds and think about his future. With online communication and a huge stash of groceries, he’d be able to bury himself with little disruption and get his damned book to his publisher. The only issue would be the workmen who were coming to build bookshelves for him, but once he let them in and showed them where to go, he’d stay out of their way.

  Liam needed to find himself and his place in life after the hellish six months he’d just endured. If he was honest, he’d admit he needed more than a place to finish Guardian of the Village, his latest adventure book set in Nepal. He also needed space and solitude to regain some stability in his life after the shock of Vanessa’s death. He’d been researching his book in the Himalayas and the media had had a field day, portraying him as the jet-setting author who always left his wife behind when he traveled. Vanessa had come up with that story for a trashy gossip magazine interview and it had spread like wildfire. Truth be known, she was the one who hadn’t wanted to go with him.

  “Why the hell would I want to go with you to a third world country?” She had stared at him, her heavily made-up eyes open wide. “No restaurants, no shops, and we’ve just been invited to three premieres—and the after-parties!”

  Then, right before he’d left, she’d told him she was seeing someone else and was going to move out while he was in Nepal. So he’d gone off alone to research his latest book, and hadn’t cared one bit about missing the L.A. social scene. While in the Himalayas, he’d realized that he didn’t miss Vanessa and being dragged around to the parties that his fame had given them entry to. He’d worked hard to make the money to keep her happy, but it hadn’t been enough for her, so he had decided that he’d be happier alone so he’d give her a divorce—and a settlement, whatever it took.

  The pileup on the freeway that had resulted in Vanessa’s death had left him numb, and a little guilty. Maybe if he’d tried harder to understand her, she would have stayed with him and not been out on that fateful night.

  Then the vultures had come in for the kill, blaming him for leaving her alone. Liam had gotten sick of seeing his face plastered on all of the entertainment sites and blogs. Sarah, his agent, had advised him to sue, but he had hoped the whole set of lies would die a natural death and they’d move on to their next victim. All Liam wanted was to shut himself away from the world and write. It was all he’d ever wanted to do, and he wasn’t going to get caught again. He intended to become a recluse. Uncle Joe had done just that in this house and he would do it, too. Liam had never been comfortable in the false world of L.A.; attending celebrity events, the fancy restaurants and book signings had been at Vanessa’s request. His wife had thrived on the publicity, until she’d found a more famous celebrity to hang on to. Ironic, really—she’d accused him of being unfaithful almost every time he’d signed a book for a female reader. Vanessa had been needy and he hadn’t been able to give her what she wanted. It was too hard. Liam knew he didn’t have it in him to pander to the demands of a clingy woman. Most of the time he was lost in his own thoughts and planning a scene, or setting up a plot, and he missed the cues that other guys just seemed to pick up on.

  So he was here to bunker down and write. He didn’t need people in his life. He had his books and enough travel memories and stories in his head to keep him writing for years. His days of traveling the world were over. He had a home and he wasn’t going anywhere.

  For the life of him, he couldn’t understand the macabre interest in his being widowed and what it had to do with entertaining the masses. The sales of his books had skyrocketed after the articles were published, but he didn’t care. What he needed now was some privacy and peace. Then maybe the muse who had deserted him would return. He had been given three months to find it, or his deal with
a top New York publisher was toast. No matter how well his previous books had sold, if he didn’t deliver this book by Christmas they were going to terminate the contract. He had four weeks left to write it. Even as he thought about it, dread rose into his throat and his mind went blank.

  The wind picked up and the chill of late fall settled on his bare shoulders as he lifted the paddle and headed for the shore. There was a trail at the base of the cliff leading up to the house. When he’d set out, the waves breaking on the beach had been tiny, but now he had to focus on paddling through the small swells that lapped at the kayak. He glanced behind him as a strong gust of wind pushed him closer to the shore and the kayak slewed around side-on to the waves. Liam knew he was going over and braced himself for the shock of the cold water.

  …

  “It’s not you, it’s me.”

  What a cop-out. The words ran like a mantra through Georgie Sacchi’s head as she followed the trail to the beach. What was it about guys? Did they all gather around the bar together and come up with stock phrases to end a relationship with? Did they really believe any woman in her right mind would fall for it?

  “Mutt, I swear, if you pull on your lead one more time, I’ll…I’ll…” A litany of swear words hovered on Georgie’s lips and she grinned. She was known as one of the kindest, most even-tempered residents of Nebbiton, and her friends would be horrified to hear a cuss word cross her lips. They’d be even more surprised to read her dark thoughts this bleak afternoon.

  Everyone saw her as a good sport. Happy, easygoing Georgie. Practical joker Georgie. Life-and-soul-of-the-party Georgie.

  She’d toughened up in the weeks since her mother, Marietta, had died, only a couple of weeks after spilling the truth to Georgie and her “sister” Sienna that their lives had been a sham. For twenty-nine years, she and Sienna had believed they were fraternal twins. Not only had her mother told them they were actually cousins born on the same day, she had also told them her cancer was terminal. Georgie had spent most of her mother’s last days by her bedside, but they had never spoken of the deception again.

  Sienna was her best friend in the whole world and Georgie’s sounding board when things went wrong. Georgie didn’t think it mattered if they were sisters or cousins. But Georgie had not told Sienna about the spectacular breakup with her latest man. “It’s not you, it’s me.” When Brent had used the same line as Cole, and Harrison before him, Georgie had foolishly pressed him for details and his words had turned around to cut her.

  “Not marriage material,” he’d said. “You, not me.”

  In the weeks since then, Georgie had put on a brave face and carried on in her usual happy way. In front of her friends, anyway. The friends who were the problem, according to Brent.

  “You hang around with old people.” The look on his face had been full of disdain. In that moment, she had been happy to let him go.

  Georgie’s best friends—her age—were no longer around. Sienna was happy in her new life with Jack, living down in Carmel, and Ana had moved to New York with her partner, Blake, and their baby, Faith.

  Okay, so I’m happy for Sienna and Ana. They were in love but deep down Georgie carried a belief that she would never admit to her friends. Not in a million years: she was never going to find a partner and it was time to accept that.

  Especially after Brent…and Cole…and Harrison…and—

  Oh, shoot. She wasn’t going to waste any more time thinking about them. So she picked losers. Either that, or Brent’s reason for breaking up with her was true. She just wasn’t marriage or permanent relationship material. Maybe she did take after her mother.

  It didn’t matter anyway. Once she finished this rush job for Blake’s hardware store, Georgie was heading out. She was going overseas and staying away from men…for good. Before he and Ana had left for New York, Blake, her boss, had begged her to do this one small building job before she left on her big adventure. All of the other local builders were too busy, and the client wanted the work done immediately. It was convenient for her because the house was next door to Ana and Blake’s cottage where she was house-sitting until she left on her trip. She had agreed to delay her trip by a month to get it finished. She could put in long days. Georgie had pretended it was a big deal to change her ticket, but in reality it had given her time to delay the trip. Yet now that Ana and Blake were in New York and Sienna was down the coast, she could drop the brave front she’d put up.

  Georgie wasn’t even sure she wanted to go away on this trip. It was going to take a lot of courage to leave behind all that was familiar, and a place she’d lived for twenty-nine years. A place where she’d been settled and content until Brent’s final comment had made her take a long hard look at her life. But the trip was booked now and her departure day was set in stone. Georgie was leaving from San Francisco on Christmas Eve. First stop, Honolulu. She had agreed to help out an old school friend and her husband and look after their animals over Christmas while they visited family back here, in Half Moon Bay. After that, she had an open round-the-world ticket…and the world was hers to discover.

  Mutt leaped ahead as something moved on the trail in front of them and the leash pulled from her fingers. He disappeared over the sand dune onto the beach and Georgie hurried after him. By the time she’d reached the base of the dune and clambered over the piles of driftwood, he was in the water and was barking and jumping about in the shallows.

  The sun was almost to the horizon in the west and Georgie put her hand up to her eyes to shield the silver glare reflecting on the water. She squinted as she spotted a small kayak floating upside down in the break. Mutt barked and took off toward a large log lying on the wet sand.

  “Oh God.” It wasn’t a log, it was a person lying facedown on the sand, and Georgie took off at a run. “Not a body, oh please, not a body.”

  The sun broke through the low cloud and bathed the beach in front of her in late-afternoon sunshine. As she ran toward the unmoving shape on the now-glistening sand, she dug in her pocket for her phone and a cuss word did escape her lips this time. Her cell was on the counter in the kitchen where she’d thrown it before she’d picked up Mutt’s leash.

  “A…B…C…” Her breath caught as she ran toward the person. “Or is it C…A…B?”

  All she could remember from the first aid course that Blake had insisted that the staff complete each year was the first two words…circulation and breathing. Or was it airway and breathing? Even as she tried to remember the sequence, a memory flashed though her mind. Damn, she couldn’t even remember the funny song she’d made up at the course. She’d changed “shake and shout” into “twist and shout” and had performed an impromptu dance with the mannequin. All she could remember was the rest of the staff rolling around with laughter at her little performance. Blake had glared at her before his lips had twitched, too, and he’d given in to laughter. Now Georgie racked her brain for the rest of the words. She’d never had to administer first aid. The guy—she was now close enough to see it was a man—was lying on his stomach with his arms stretched above his head and his face turned away from her. Georgie reached him, knelt down, and grabbed his shoulders to put him in the recovery position. She could remember that much at least—hopefully the rest of the first aid knowledge would follow.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  Georgie rocked back on her heels as the guy pushed himself up onto his forearms and turned his head to face her. A pair of ice-blue eyes stared into hers and a shiver ran down Georgie’s spine as she sat back on the wet sand, and the shiver didn’t have anything to do with the cold water that was seeping through her shorts.

  Oh…my God. He’s gorgeous. She exhaled a huge breath of relief and put her hand to her chest. “Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were drowned.”

  “Well, I’m not.” His voice was short and Georgie narrowed her eyes. A trickle of blood was running down his cheek.

  “But you’re hurt.”

  He rolled over, s
at up, and looked away from her. “No, I was just catching my breath.” She sensed that every word he spoke to her was done so reluctantly. “So thank you, you can go now. Your dog’s waiting for you.”

  Mutt had bounded over to see what was happening and stood next to Georgie as he shook the water from his coat, spraying her with drops of cold water.

  “Your head’s bleeding. What happened?” She reached out to touch his face but he leaned away from her reach.

  “I told you, I’m fine.” His voice was rude and he scowled at her, his expression grim.

  “Well, get up and show me you’re okay.” Georgie pushed herself to her feet, put her hands on her hips, and stared down at him. He had longish hair plastered to his head, and despite being pale and gaunt, his face was beautifully proportioned. His clothes were soaked and stuck to his body; a pair of black shorts clung to long muscular legs and a sleeveless white T-shirt showed off a set of well-toned biceps.

  “What about your kayak? If you’re all right, are you going to get it before it floats away?” She wasn’t convinced that the guy was okay, and even if he was angry at her for some reason, she wasn’t going to leave him until she was sure. He frowned at her before looking out to where the kayak was now bobbing in the small swell.

  “Damn.” He tried to stand but grabbed his head and sat back down.

  Georgie gestured for him to stay sitting. The blood was trickling down his neck now. She called to Mutt and the dog walked over quietly, as if sensing there was something wrong.

  “Sit.” She pointed to the sand next to the man. “Stay.”

  Heading into the break, she gasped as the cold water hit her bare thighs and she waited for the wave to recede. The kayak was floating in waist-deep water, and when the surge pulled back, Georgie grabbed the end of the small craft and dragged it to the shore. It slid up the shingly sand with a harsh grinding sound, and she pulled it up as far as she could, away from the rising tide.

  “Leave it.” The voice was peevish.