“That’s not necessary.”
“Emily, you passed out.”
“I’m fine now.”
“Has it ever happened before?”
She gave a brief shake of her head. “No.”
“I’m taking you to the medical clinic.” Somewhere he wouldn’t be able to lay a finger on her, preferably with a large expanse of water between them. “Or maybe the mainland. You should have tests.”
“I don’t need tests.”
“One moment you were sprinting across the sand as if you were trying to break records, and the next you collapsed.”
Aware that Lizzy ha
d been watching, scared, he’d tried to look as if this was normal behavior. As if having a panic attack on a beach was nothing out of the ordinary.
He’d held her, calmed her, breathed in the summer scent of her and tried to forget she was built like Venus. He was fairly sure she’d forgotten she was wearing nothing but thin silk pajamas.
“Where’s Lizzy?” Her voice was urgent, and he could see she was about to drag herself from the sofa and prove to herself that the child was safe.
“She’s fine. She’s in the garden with Cocoa.”
“The front door—”
“I locked it.”
“She—”
“I know. She told me she stood on the chair to get the bucket. She told me you’d forbidden her from going to the beach.” And he wanted to know why. In fact, he had so many damn questions, it was a struggle to hold them back. He intended to ask them later, but first he needed to be sure she wasn’t going to pass out again. “Are you feeling dizzy?”
“No. You must think I’m crazy.”
“What I think,” he said slowly, “is that something scared you. Do you want to tell me what?”
“I woke up and found her gone. Saw the door open. I thought—”
“What? That the press had found you? That she’d been taken? Are you worried about kidnappers?”
“No. Not that.” Before she could say anything else, Lizzy came back into the room with Cocoa at her heels. She stopped in the doorway when she saw Emily sitting up.
“You’re awake.”
“Yeah, she’s awake.” Ryan rocked back on his heels, knowing that whatever it was Emily had been about to tell him was going to have to wait. “Come and say hi.” He knew children denied the truth would often imagine something far worse. It was important for her to see that nothing bad had happened.
Lizzy slid onto the sofa and looked anxiously at Emily. “Are you still mad at me?”
“I was never mad at you.”
“You were screaming. You squeezed me hard.”
“I was scared. I was mad at myself for falling asleep and not watching you properly. I—I was worried something might happen to you—” Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I’m sorry if I scared you. We’ll talk about it properly, but not right now.”
“You fell and I thought you’d died.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry I gave you a fright.” The guilt in her eyes told him just how seriously she took the role of guardian.