SHADOWLOVE--STALKERS (13 page)

She hadn’t learned a thing about him, other than his father and grandmother were both still alive. That was it; she had gotten exactly
nada
—zilch—out of him.

And then came their moment at her cottage door.

Geez
, could she have been more stupid? She’d actually believed that when he bent towards her, it was to kiss her. She recalled the moment and was fairly certain her heart had sped up and then completely halted in anticipation.

She had felt a fluttering in her stomach and an ache that tickled her further down.. She had closed her eyes and got ready for that kiss.

Oh—she had been ready! She had even excused herself, arguing that she was entitled to a kiss…

There she was, no doubt looking the fool with her eyes closed and her breath (she was sure) escaping in pants of wanting, when she felt the door at her back flung open.

What? Door? Opened?

He had her by the forearm, and he led her inside.
No kiss
, not even a peck, nothing. She was so damn embarrassed because he had this smirk on his handsome, horrible face.
He knew
. He knew that she would have let him kiss her
.

Shit
, she thought to herself as her embarrassment swept through her insides. How had this happened to streetwise Shawna, she asked herself. She went inside and snapped at him, “Thank you for a wonderful dinner, and good-night.”

He was still grinning as he moved in on her. She stepped back. He took another tantalizing step closer. She moved back, but in truth, she didn’t want to. The next movement brought him closer, and she bumped into the large winged leather chair and had to stand her ground. He stopped right up close, and so personal she could feel his sweet breath just inches from her face as he bent towards her and whispered in that Scottish brogue that drove her wild, “I’ll be spending the night, lass—so if you could spare a blanket and a pillow, I think the couch will do me just fine.”

She wanted to hit him. Fooled again? Twice in one night? She sucked it in and growled ferociously at him, in a voice she didn’t even recognize as her own, “You can’t spend the night here.” She stomped her foot before she could stop herself. “I won’t have it, and besides, you won’t fit on that couch.”

“Aye, so you say, and still it is what I mean to do. Don’t you worry about me, love. I’ll be right and cozy, I will.”

She could see his eyes alive with amusement, and it made her all the more irritated. “No—absolutely not. You have to leave. Don’t you have a home to go to?”

“I do.”

“Then—go there…”

“I will, but not this evening, I won’t,” he said softly but firmly as he moved towards the couch and began taking it apart, carefully situating the cushions on the floor. This done, he turned and looked at her quizzically.

“Blanket…pillow…please.”

Shawna stood in stunned silence for a moment before exclaiming indignantly, “Humph!”

She stormed off like a child and went to her linen closet, retrieved the items in question. and threw them at him.

He caught them both easily, ignored her hissy fit, and began setting them in place.

She closed her eyes now as she recollected how she had behaved—like an idiot. Why did she always turn into a fool when he was around?

He didn’t try and make conversation and she had nothing further to say, so she stormed off to her room and attacked her bed. However, no amount of tossing, turning, punching her pillow, throwing it off the bed, and then picking it back up again had helped her to sleep.

She had been so determined not to think about him—which of course led her to think about nothing but him…only a short distance away, sleeping soundly she had no doubt, in the next room.

Ridiculous
. She was ridiculous—he was certainly like no one she had ever encountered before in her entire life, and it was throwing off her game.

Who was he really—and better yet, what was he? What was his story, and why did he really want Pentim Rawley destroyed?

And for some unknown reason the next question loomed large and heavy—was he really seriously worried about her?
Well, yeah
…had to keep his bait intact.

At some point, she had managed to shrug off all clear thought, pulled the blanket over her head, and fallen fitfully asleep.

Ugh
. What an awful, nightmarish night. Wayward dreams turned into ghoulish ones, and when she opened her eyes, it had been with relief that the night was over.

This was a new day, a new morning, and she decided to set all her concerns aside, or at least consider them from another point of view. And just as she had decided to try and make her peace with him—
he was gone!

The blanket was neatly folded and placed with the pillow back on the sofa. She huffed as she picked them up and put them away, thinking of what she would say to him the next time she encountered him.

What she needed was a nice long walk. She pulled on a warm and fitted navy parka, wrapped a red scarf around her neck, tucked her long blonde hair inside her collar, and made her way outside.

The sky was a mass of gray clouds, and a fine mist touched her face, but oh, she sucked on the air with relish. She pulled out a knit cap and tugged it over her head. It was spring, but the Scottish weather hadn’t yet agreed with the calendar.

The air was filled with the scent of pine and wildflowers, and she didn’t mind the damp at all. Without another thought, she headed for the trail she had taken the day before. She was armed, and she was ready if anything meant to get in her way.

As she hiked over a craggy area at the edge of the forest, a tickling sensation at her neck made her come to attention and frown. She gave the surrounding area a scan but could see nothing.

Suddenly all forest music—birds, bees, and the gentle breeze—stopped. The air was deadly still. Something filled the atmosphere with electrical tension.

She stopped for a fraction of a moment before making her way down the narrow weaving trail through the trees. She wanted to draw the thing out.
She wanted an encounter—
because she knew something that Chad MacFare did not, and in this instance she wanted to confront the entity in the light of day.

She heard a hiss at her back and spun around. She felt a sprinkle of fear hit her stomach, but she got it under control. She had her gifts…abilities—magic if you prefer—but she knew her limitation was that she was untried against anything like this entity.

This was no training session—this was for real. Something was there, hidden, but certainly there and aware that she was calling it out for a lookie-look.

She backed away from the next hiss, which was closer now, angrier…

All at once, it was there and in her face, sniffing her from her neck to her arms and then back again. She stood perfectly still.

“What do you want with me?” Shawna whispered.

Electricity charged through her as it touched her with its tentacles, and even as she used her magic to push it off, it was gone.

Shawna stood, unable to move as she scanned the woods, when a sudden movement at her back made her turn on a scream “Yiiiii!”

“Oh Shawna, I startled you. I am sorry.”

Shawna swallowed her gasp, making a slight choking sound, and then almost immediately, visibly relaxed. It was only the squire.

He frowned and came towards her. “Shawna…what is it? What is wrong? You are white…”

It occurred to her that the thing had vanished because the squire had appeared. What did that mean? Was it afraid of witnesses outside her circle? Yes, but it hadn’t been afraid to take on Chad MacFare. Why would it be leery of the gentle squire? She was certain that the thing could have nothing to fear from an ordinary human. Or was it marking time?

Limitations—might it have limitations?

For now however, she had to get herself together. She looked up at the squire’s attractive face and saw the concern in his hazel eyes.

She touched his arm in an effort to alleviate his concern. “Oh…it’s nothing. I scared myself. I thought I heard something, and then of course I thought I saw something, but it was just a trick of the eye. Nothing at all—and here you are coming to my rescue again.”

“I’ll confess at this point that I rather hoped you might be walking this morning. I came with the express purpose of bumping into you.”

“Well, that is the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time.”

“I find that hard to believe. I know American men are not up to par with us Scots, but they can’t be that blind or stupid.”

They both laughed and fell into step beside one another as he commented, “You’ll do…the color is back in your cheeks.” He smiled warmly at her. “Shall we continue to walk together?”

Shawna sighed with relief. It would be nice to be normal, and with the squire that was just how she could be…for a time. “Lovely.”

He grinned broadly, and a flicker of heat in the recesses of his hazel eyes caught her attention. However, he began animatedly telling her an anecdote about his housekeeper that made her laugh.

He touched her again, this time taking her hand and patting it. “But you will see for yourself, for we are nearly at MacDunn, and I mean to abduct you and force some lunch into you.”

Shawna beamed. Although she knew the ‘no ties, no relationships’ edict still held, she didn’t think a friendly lunch could hurt. “That would be great. I am sure it is early, but I am starving, and the truth is, I don’t have anything worth eating in the cottage.”

“Good then. Yes, it is early, but I did say I was going to abduct you, didn’t I?” He grinned wickedly. “That entails having you at my mercy and taking you on a tour of MacDunn while Mrs. Patrick prepares our meal.”

“Abduct away. I accept.”

~ Nine ~

SHAWNA LEANED BACK against her garden chair as she pushed away the plate of crumbs in front of her. She had eaten everything in sight, to the point where the squire had laughed and commented on her healthy appetite.

“Hmmm, I know. I’ll have to work it all off, but everything was so good.” She sighed and looked around the solarium where they had taken their meal. “This place…” Her hands moved expressively. “…has the touch of a woman, no doubt your mom…” Her voice trailed off as she realized she had lit on a subject that might be off limits.

He frowned and used his fork to play with some crumbs on his dish. She waited as he pushed at the food, and finally with something of a sigh, he offered, “Yes, my mother renovated this place after my father died. It has her essence in every fabric, every placement of every painting…” His voice faded, and he looked off as though looking into another time.

Shawna was on the alert. There was a mystery here and her curiosity bone got the better of her. “Then I am amazed she gave it all up to live in the cottage.”

“Her decision came as a surprise, and an unwelcome one to me. I was in fact shocked that she could leave. You must have already heard from the grapevine leader, Mrs. Carver, that I adored my mother…” Again he let his last words drift off.

She could see a darkling look shade his hazel eyes, and she knew that she should be the perfect guest and let the subject go. He clearly did not want to be rude, but neither did he wish to speak about his mother.

And instead of being the perfect guest, she dove right in. “Which brings me back to my original question. Why? You obviously didn’t want her to leave, and she obviously loved this place—her home. Why did she move to the little cottage?” Shawna’s silver eyes opened wide with attention as she watched the changing expressions flit over his face. He looked shocked at the audacity of her question. He looked angry, but more than either of those two emotions, he looked bitter.

“She had her reasons.”

“Of course she did, and it is all none of my business.” Shawna backed off.

He set the fork aside and stood up to offer her his hand. “Come…let me show you her hothouse. I maintain it exactly as she left it, in memory of her. We house her prized rosebushes there.”

Shawna stood and gave him her hand, thinking she would withdraw it as soon as she could. “Great. I would love to see it. I am sorry if I hit a sore subject.”

He grinned, and his eyes lit up as his mood suddenly changed once more. “Americans have this style—quite unique really—of being able to talk about the most personal things as though they were speaking about the weather. That particular quality, ability has always eluded me.”

“I should not have…” Shawna’s lovely eyebrows met, and she sucked in her lips as she prepared her apology.

“Not at all—your question was perfectly sound and quite exhibited a normal, very natural curiosity,” he said, interrupting her. “Your direct manner is one of the quirks that have already made be quite fond of you. Shawna…” He squeezed her hand gently. “I love the fact that you are so open and easy to talk to. I have never enjoyed that particular quality with anyone ever before.”

“Quality, huh—I think you mean I’m nosey?” A short laugh escaped her throat.

His smile was sweet. “Perhaps, but not
too
nosey for me.”