Larissa Learns to Breathe by Ruby Laska Page B

if the crafty intruder called her bluff.
    Tommy was sitting up in his sleeping bag, rubbing his eyes.
    â€œYou’re armed?” he said sleepily. “With what, that fork you tried to stab Leticia with last night?”
    Larissa’s heart pounded with adrenaline overdrive, making her feel a little nauseous…although that might have been the hangover. There was no emergency. Bluebell hadn’t been trying to save her master. As if to drive home the point that Larissa had failed, yet again, to handle the situation, the dog came trotting into the hut and plopped down on the sleeping bag next to Tommy, her big pink tongue hanging out. She batted her big, expressive brown eyes at Larissa and then yawned.
    â€œI thought…” She ran a hand through her hair. While brushing her teeth she’d noticed that her mane had somehow grown overnight, the curls morphing into a hairdo suitable for an eighties rocker. Her eyes were ringed with smudged eyeliner to match—maybe, now that she’d failed her third career in a row, she could find work in a KISS tribute band. “I thought maybe you were hurt. Bluebell came to get me. She seemed…upset.”
    Tommy opened his eyes wider. “You thought Bluebell came to get you so you could save me? From what—a seagull attack?”
    Larissa felt her bottom lip tremble. “I wasn’t thinking very clearly,” she mumbled, turning to go.
    â€œHey.”
    She paused in the doorway but didn’t turn around. Instead she looked out over the ocean where dawn was casting a silvery pink sheen on the placid waters lapping at the beach. So much for a stormy tide claiming him. Too bad it hadn’t claimed her —maybe her life could have served as a warning to others, at least, and she could be remembered for something other than mugging an innocent woman for her dessert.
    The old iron cot creaked. “Look,” Tommy said, his voice behind her ear, so close she could feel his breath on her neck. “You had a bad night. It happens. You didn’t have anything to eat, and you were worried about work, and…well, things got a little out of hand. But these are good people who work here. They’ll give you another chance. This will be forgotten in no time.”
    She shook her head, hard. “You don’t understand. I just can’t seem to get along with people. Know what they used to call me at my first job? Ice Princess.”
    â€œThat’s…not very flattering,” Tommy conceded.
    â€œAnd know what I was doing before I got this job?” She drew a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut.
    â€œNo, and it doesn’t matter. This is a…a special place. You’ll see. No one has met Rafe, but somehow he knows things about people. Important things, the things that matter. Everyone here is just basically good.”
    Larissa laughed bitterly. “You make it sound like he’s some sort of magical guardian.”
    â€œWell…” Tommy wound his fingers through her hair, pushing it carefully to the side, so that it tickled against her neck and shoulder. Then he brushed his lips against her bare nape. Larissa swallowed hard, knowing she should pull away, knowing that this was one more mistake in a long line of them.
    But she was already finished here. Humiliated. Bridges burned. And his touch felt like the only good thing that had come her way in a very long time, at least since the small ray of hope she’d stupidly allowed herself to enjoy when she accepted this doomed job. Who knew when she’d have something to celebrate again?
    â€œI don’t know if there’s magic on the island,” Tommy whispered, closing his arms around her, pressing his body against hers. “But I want to find out. Now. Here. With you.”
    He turned her toward him, and she caught her breath. His jaw was faintly stubbled; it left tiny trails of sensation along her neck that had turned her blood to