A Rebel's Storm Paperback

From A Rebel's Storm

Getting off an Aleutian island required a plane or a boat, and neither was in a hurry.
Grace handed a customer a coffee, smiling like nothing was wrong, knowing that with the ferry not due for three days and back-to-back storms keeping planes and boats out of commission, her world had shrunk to the size of a cage.
Twenty-six hours since the Instagram photo, and she was still standing behind a counter, selling muffins like her life wasn’t about to end.
Every calculation led to the same conclusion. If they were coming, they’d be here soon. Her only hope was the Alaskan weather continuing to throw a tantrum.
“Amy, dear, you feeling all right?” Mrs. Thornton peered at her with concern. “You’ve been wiping that same spot for five minutes.”
Grace forced her hand to stop. “Sorry. Just thinking about the storm last night.”
“Oh, it was a big one.” Mr. Patterson leaned against the counter. “Good thing the supply plane came on Tuesday. Won’t see another one until next Thursday now.”
Thursday. Five days away.
Unless the weather cleared and she could talk a local pilot or captain into taking her away, the ferry in three days was her only option. So that meant staying visible, maintaining her cover, pretending everything was normal while her nerves frayed like old rope.
The bell above the door jingled.
She looked up, preparing her brittle smile for another customer.
The smile died on her lips.
Magnus Rebel stood in the doorway, rain dripping from his jacket. For a moment, neither of them moved. The bakery, the town, the entire world condensed to the space between them.
She saw the exact second recognition hit. His eyes widened, disbelief cascading across his face. His jaw clenched. His hands fisted at his sides. The air between them crackled with unanswered questions, grief, and fury compressed into a single, devastating look.
“Annie?” The name came out rough, uncertain.
Testing.
Every cell in her body screamed run.
So she did.