”“Dessert, Mr. Grant?” Mary had made chocolate pudding, cooked. She’d finished clearing the table as he’d taken anchor.“No.”He’d only ...een in her bedroom once before; to rally Ted as his wedding grew imminent.He caught sight of her as she slid out the bathroom door, the light catching her in a direct flash. She was naked, white and gleaming, then just a shadow as Mary cut the light. She crossed quickly to the bedside and slid beneath the sheets and quilts.“Hurry, Mr. Grant.”“Mary.”“Yes.”She. ." The report lasted for several minutes before looping and beginning all over. Michael turned it off with a look of disgust on his face. Michael hated dealing with the incessant storms, but knew it was the price he had to pay to live here. The storm meant that he would have to close up the house and shutters, a task that he despised. It meant getting out in the wind driven sands, setting up the ladder and working those rusted hinges. He had been meaning to oil them, but like most things. More

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