Shades of Truth (The Summerlynn Secrets) (13 page)

Colton leaned back on his elbows and reached into his pocket. It would have been easier to access had we been standing, but as it was, I received a tantalizing glimpse of a flat abdomen when his shirt rode up. Once he had the crumpled piece of paper, he offered it to me.

Carefully, so our fingers didn’t touch, I removed the paper from his hand and smoothed it over my knee. I became aware that he didn’t resume his place across from me but instead chose to move closer so he could read over my shoulder. Annoying habit.

Skimming the lines, I immediately remembered the
problems with it.

“Anything?”

“Well, a few things disturb me. My father never calls anyone Dearest. Not even my mother, when she was alive. He’s more likely to use full names. Oh, and he’s never mentioned anything about a new house, at least not in my hearing, so it can’t be for us. Unless he built a house in Lisbon as a surprise, but why refer to the builder as ‘Dearest’?” I absently looked up, forgetting how close Colton now was. His shoulder was practically touching mine, and I imagined I felt the heat of his breath on my arm.

“Your father used the endearment to cover the identity of his correspondent. Anyone coming across this letter would assume he was writing to his lover and immediately discard it as useless correspondence. In light of what I know about your father’s activities, I would say I have a fair idea whom the addressee is, and wh
at they are speaking of. But I—“

“Cannot tell me. I know. I’ve heard it before.”

"It is for your own good." His tone was stubborn.

“Now do you understand why I can’t trust you? You never tell me anything.”

“Has it occurred to you I am not withholding information to annoy you but because I don’t want you frightened?” Again our eyes met (I wished they’d stop doing that) and my body heated. To disguise my reaction, I once again sprang to attack.

“No, do not attempt to turn this into an I’m-protecting-you speech. You’re not. You’re only making it all the more difficult for me to find my father.”

“What then? What happens when you find your father and he is less concerned over your welfare than his work?” Colton’s eyes pinned me in place. “He will stop at nothing to see his plans through.”

“What plans?” I covered Colton’s knee with my hand. “Tell me something, anything. Please.” As though drawn by a magnet, my eyes met and held his. I saw he wasn’t immune to my desire for information, but I also saw he wouldn’t tell me anything. I sighed. At the rate we were going, I would never know anything about the man beyond his name, and I wasn’t entirely certain it was his real name. “I am not asking you to solve an equation. A simple yes or no will be sufficient.”

“No.”

“Fine.” I stood, brushing the legs of my trousers. “Since further conversation is pointless, I suggest we continue on our way.”

“Pointless?”

“Yes. I hate wasting words. You have decided not to tell me anything; I have decided not to talk to you. Simple.”

He laughed. “You will not be able to carry silence more than a few yards.”

In reply, I shrugged. We went through our mounting routine and Colton turned Brutus around and we began heading back in the direction we’d come, the road being perpendicular to the stream.

“Wait. Where are we going?” So he was correct. Silence and I would never be close friends.

“Muckford.”

“But that’s easily two days ride!”

“Then we’d best get started.” He urged Brutus into a smooth canter, and the forest began to slide by in a monotonous stream.

Why were we headed to Muckford? I searched my brain for any snippet of information I knew about the city and came up with the fact Muckford was rumored to have the best beefsteak around. I doubted Colton was after beefsteak.

We talked little the rest of the afternoon, only stopping to walk every now and then to rest Brutus. As dusk began to leak through the trees and spread around us, I began to grow worried about where we’d be sleeping. I hadn’t revised my earlier opinion of sleeping in the forest.

The forest darkened to the shade of night in an oil painting. Trees became spots of darker black, the road a dim shadow beneath us. I had nearly decided he meant to press on during the night when Colton turned Brutus off into a clearing of sorts, or at least a less densely wooded area. My worst fears were realized. He meant to spend the night in the forest.

“I am not sleeping here."

“If you can find another place to sleep, you have my blessing.” He swung his leg over Brutus and smoothly dismounted. After I’d dismounted as well, he began rummaging in his saddlebag.

I watched silently as he withdrew a bedroll and tossed it to the ground. With an economy of movement, Brutus was quickly unsaddled and turned loose to graze.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You cannot even see my face, much less my expression.” Though our faces were lighter spots in the darkness, I couldn’t make out the details.

“I know you well enough to recognize the signs of your displeasure.”

“I have no intention of spending the night in the forest.”

“It won’t be that bad. I’ll even give you the bedroll. Please don’t argue.”

Hearing the fatigue in his voice, I bit back my retort. I stooped to pick up the bedroll and began looking around for a smooth place to sleep. One tree was as good as another, and they were nicely spaced in this clearing. Perhaps we were in an orchard?

I picked a tree, and examined the ground. It didn’t look terribly comfortable. Feeling a twinge of guilt for relegating Colton to the hard ground, I offered, “We can share the bedroll, if you’d like.”

“Is that an invitation?” His grin was a white slash in the darkness.

“Let me amend that. We can share as long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

“What about your hands?”

“If you want the offer rescinded, please, continue this conversation.”

“I’m only attempting to make you smile, sweetheart. You’ve done far too little of that today.”

I didn’t answer. Shaking out the bedroll, I carefully sat on it. At least it was a thick blanket, though I noticed I’d managed to cover a few large rocks. I fished them out, and looked up, startled, when Colton suddenly stood over me.

“I thought you might be hungry.” He tossed a piece of bread at me, stepping over me to claim his side of the blanket. With a gusty sigh, he flopped down on it, reminding me the blanket wasn’t all that wide.

“Thank you.” I quickly ate the small piece of bread. It was better than nothing. Then, deciding there was nothing for it but to lie down beside him, I did.

Hearing a rustle of clothing, I wondered if the man would dare disrobe. He’d better not. Besides, it was cold. To my surprise, a minute later, his jacket settled over my shoulders.

“In case you get cold,” he explained.

My heart warmed at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” A few moments passed in silence, both lost in our own thoughts. I was startled when he suddenly said, “Tell me about yourself, Cadrian.”

“I’d prefer not to. It’s late, and I’m tired.” And feeling worn down.

“It’s too early to sleep, you old woman. Night is the best time for uncovering secrets. They actually float close to midnight, and if you’re really lucky, one might drift across you.” I hadn’t seen this whimsical side of Colton before. Perhaps he was overtired.

“Does this mean you’ll tell me something important?” I turned onto my other side, so I could look at him. Lying on his back with hands behind his head, Colton stared straight into the tree branches above us.

“Depends on your definition of important.” He turned his head slightly to look at me. “If you want answers, you will have to trade something of equal importance.”

Colton was infernally hard to wrestle information from. “What do you want to know?” I arranged my head on my bent arm, and slightly curled my knees toward my chin. I couldn’t curl them all the way up for fear of touching him.

“Your favorite color.”

“Purple. Why did you meet with my father originally?” Now that the time had come for answers, I wasn’t sure I knew the questions.

“To negotiate a deal between him and us.” Which pretty much told me nothing. I could see this wouldn’t be as easy as I’d originally thought. “What makes you smile?”

“The truth.”

“Even when it’s not funny?”

“Especially then.” I frowned. “And I believe you owe me an answer.”

“Ask your question.” I could feel his smile, and felt my own lips curve upwards.

“Why did you take my father’s letter?”

“Because I needed to read it.” He suddenly flopped onto his side, knocking our knees together in the process. “For a woman who claims to know nothing about your father’s work, you display interest in anything relating to him. Why?”

“Is that your next question?”

“Is this yours?”

I made a noise of frustration. He was better at this game than I was. “I love my father. I will not allow you to tarnish his name because of rumors and mysterious letters.”

“More than rumors and letters have sunk your father’s name.”

“Fine. Tell me exactly why it is abundantly clear my father is spying.”

“I can’t.”

“No. You won’t. There’s a difference.”

“Perhaps you should spend less time accusing and more time putting that intelligent mind of yours to work.”

“Why would I do that?” I didn’t allow the edges of my heart to curl around his compliment. He was only attempting to distract me from the topic at hand.

“Because you are as tightly wound in your father’s life as I am in mine.” His sympathy, unspoken, hung between us.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop being so kind.” It was too hard to resist him when he was being kind. A few minutes more and I would be an emotional wreck.

Already I felt the dangerous embrace of his sympathy curling around my shoulders. Perhaps I had misjudged him. Maybe he did have only my best interests at heart. My heart shuddered once in my chest, teetering on the precipice. Handsome men with sympathetic hearts were dangerously attractive.

I never knew afterward why what happened, happened, but one moment I was calmly lying on my side of the blanket, the next I leaned over and kissed him.

For an instant, I was afraid he’d reject me, but, with a soft groan, he kissed me back. I hadn’t realized his beard would be so harsh against my skin, or his mouth so tender. When his hand tilted my chin upwards, I eagerly followed his lead.

It was only when I moved to deepen the kiss that he pulled back. His thumb traced my lips and down the line of my jaw before he removed even that touch.

Embarrassed at my forwardness, I quickly turned on my side away from him. Not that there was anywhere to go. This bedroll was not meant for two.

Perfect. On top of feeling entirely alone, mortified, and tired, I had convinced Colton without a doubt that I was crazy. Could this day get even worse?

Briefly, I skimmed over the past few days in my mind, to put this evening’s debacle in perspective. I’d withheld evidence (the pendant) from the man in Lisbon and he knew it. That, more than anything, may have convinced him I knew more than I did, which meant he was likely searching for me.

Oh, and I had nearly been raped this afternoon. Nothing I wore belonged to me, and the one thing that did, Colton had taken (the purse). So now I was dependent on a man I’d just kissed, who rejected me.

Again. Perfect.

“Cadrian?”

I ignored him. The last thing I wanted was a lecture from Colton about why I shouldn’t kiss him. My emotions were already raw enough and I hadn’t even analyzed the effects of that kiss.

Wisely, he didn’t press me. I thought he’d drifted off, but discarded that notion when his hand gently settled at the base of my spine. It wasn’t a demanding touch. It was rather comforting.

Perhaps I hadn’t ruined everything.

Someone, or something, was sniffing at my hair. My eyes snapped open, and I nearly screamed before I recognized the long face and patient expression of Brutus. Daylight was inching across my toes.

“I told you not to wake her.”

At the rough gravel of his voice, I turned to find Colton lying on his stomach, head resting on folded arms as he looked at me. From the alertness in his eyes, it appeared he’d been awake for some time.

I hoped he hadn’t been watching me. At least I hadn’t spent the night curled in his
arms. I was still firmly on my side of the blanket, though the middle was suspiciously rumpled.

I hated this false intimacy thrust upon us by our
circumstances. For heaven’s sake, I didn’t need to know he looked adorably disarrayed first thing in the morning, or his voice was the hard edge of midnight when he woke. Even that piece of hair sticking straight up in the back only underscored the man’s handsomeness.

I abruptly sat up, pushing Brutus’s head away as I did. Colton’s jacket fell onto my lap. No wonder my
dreams had been faintly spice scented.