Chapter One

      “Stop! Don’t come any closer.”

      Paige McLean stared at the man standing between her and the front door to her friend’s house. As a rule she didn’t mind a well-placed bit of instruction, but she was running late and had places to be when she left here.

      “Or what?” she asked, tucking her yoga mat under one arm and doing her best to look stern and intimidating. Not that she was good at either. “This is a public sidewalk. You can’t stop me from going anywhere.”

      Technically, they were standing on a private walkway but unless the guy was a lawyer or a surveyor, he might not think of that.

      The man covered his mouth and coughed. He held up his other hand and waved her away. “I mean it. I’m contagious.”

      He had a nice voice, she thought. Sexy, with a British accent. The thrill of the sound faded and she was able to focus on what he’d actually said.

      “Yikes.” She took a step back. “What’s wrong with you?” She paused, not wanting the question to sound too hostile. “Medically, I mean. I’m not commenting on any personal issues.”

      “Personal what?”

      “Issues. You know. Like you’re unable to commit or you drive too fast. Whatever. It’s fine. We all have flaws. I assume the best of people, which isn’t really a flaw, I suppose. So far I haven’t been let down. I have a miserable time figuring out what to tip. I’ve heard it’s good to double the tax, but don’t different states have different tax rates? Is that really dependable?”

      She paused to look into his dark blue eyes. They were slightly dilated and unfocused. “Are you okay?”

      “Not really.”

      The front door opened and Simon Bradley, her friend Montana’s husband, stepped out.

      “Paige, you need to step back.”

      “So I’ve been told. What’s going on?”

      Simon sighed. “Alistair Woodbury is a colleague of mine. He’s here for a visit. Unfortunately, he has the measles. Apparently his vaccination didn’t take.”

      “Uh-oh.” Paige might not have kids herself, but she knew measles and pregnant women didn’t mix. Montana was about seven months along. “He can’t stay with you.”

      “We know that, thanks,” Alistair said, coughing again. He was pale and looked like he might be clammy.

      “What are you going to do?” she asked, thinking a hotel wasn’t really an option. Exposing tourists to an active case of measles certainly wasn’t visitor friendly.

      “I’m looking for somewhere right now,” Simon admitted.

      “He can stay with me,” Paige said before she could stop herself. “I’ve had the measles. Wow, that was a painful rash. I remember it. Aunt Sophia took pictures. I still have them.”

      “How helpful,” Alistair said.

      Paige pointed her finger at him. “Not nice. You’re in a strange town, you’re sick and I’m all that stands between you and the infectious disease ward of the local hospital. I’d be a little friendlier if I were you.”

      Alistair surprised her by flashing a gorgeous, if weak, smile. “Point taken. My apologies.”

      “All