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Authors: Sharon Clare

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Paranormal

Love of Her Lives (13 page)

BOOK: Love of Her Lives
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“The hell I will, bloody narrow streets. You’re hands are trembling, Beth. You can’t drive. Don’t worry yourself, I will master this.”

“Stop the car, Calum! Before you kill somebody.”

They came to a screeching stop. She pried her hands from the dashboard.

How much worse could this possibly get? “Switch places,” she ordered, lifting up so he could slide under her. “Hurry up.”

They switched. Beth hit the gas.

“Turn right again,” he grumbled when they reached the stop sign. “We will make way out of the city.”

Calum might not be able to drive a car — and what was with that? — but he could navigate. Wits combined, they finally gained enough distance that she felt it safe to pull over at a gas station.

Beth slumped forward to rest her forehead on the steering wheel.

She felt Calum’s hand rest on her shoulder. “Did he hurt you, lass?”

Drawing her head from the wheel, she caught the look on his face — pure misery. “Matthew? The man who wanted to share my life, who just threatened to turn me in to the police if I don’t cough up the money from that backpack. No, not really, nothing more than a crushed spirit and a twisted wrist.”

His hand slid down her arm to bring her wrist to his lips. He kissed it, and then frowned. “It’s my fault. You were under my protection, and I failed you.”

She shifted to face him. “That’s very gallant of you, Calum. I’m not so fragile, apparently. I can be vacuumed up no worse for wear. What happened to me?”

He shook his head. “I can only guess. It might have been Finn. The shirt thief. I told you about him, remember?”

“No, I never let that one settle in my memory.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t let this one either.”

“Fat chance.” She didn’t believe in fairies, and while she’d never been to Scotland, as far as she knew the laws of physics were universal. “Calum, tell me again. Where exactly are you from?”

“I will try to explain it to your satisfaction, but this isn’t the place. Beth, I am sorry for it … for Matthew.”

She blew out a deflating breath. “I don’t know what he was more enraged about, the money or you?”

“Me?”

“He thinks I’m having an affair. The concierge at the hotel didn’t leave out any details from our lustful display last night.”

“I see, and he’s not man enough to seek revenge of me, but instead attacks the woman he claims to love.”

She could easily picture Calum dueling for her honour, but Matthew? No. “He acted insane — jealously crazed. I’ve never seen him like that.”

“There was somebody with him, but I couldn’t see through the windows.”

“I saw who it was. I recognized the shaved head before that great gust of wind sucked me to your side.”

“And I’ll thank God for that. Was it Popeye?”

She nearly laughed, but felt too dazed for humour. He said it like
poop-eye
. “Yes, the man driving was Bruce, and by the look of him, you did break his nose. Now we know they are in this together. I just can’t see them as drug dealers. Do you think this has anything to do with the Meals on the Move robberies?”

“Yes, I do. But we’re going to talk later. I’m uneasy here.”

Uneasy was an understatement, and yes, they had a few things to talk about. Matthew could never discover she’d given that money to Janine Miller. Janine’s safety was vital. She turned the car off. “First, I’m going to run into that shop over there and see if they have a Toronto paper. I need to read that article.”

“No, you stay here.” Calum opened his door. “Lock the car. Don’t move. I’ll go.”

Calum got out of the car. He had to cross the street to get to the store. As he stood waiting for traffic to clear, he felt that eerie wind lift his hair. Perfect timing. Finn materialized beside him.

“It wasn’t God and you’re welcome,” Finn said.

“I figured. It was good of you to shift her out of there, yet somehow, Finn, it leaves me thinking you’ve an underhanded motive.”


Moi?
I spend my days granting humans desire after desire, and you think me self–serving?”

The traffic cleared and Calum crossed the street. Finn appeared on the other side.

“By the way, thanks for the reappearing shirt. You love to see me squirm, Finn?”

“Yes, and knowing that, warrior, knowing you’ve completed your first task, do you still wish to play my game, or have you decided to remain celibate?”

Bloody hell, he wished he didn’t need the immortal. Calum opened the door to the shop, and then crossed to the magazines and newspapers. Finn popped in on the top shelf, his long legs dangling over
Better Homes and Gardens’
spring issue.

“Do you wish to know your second task?”

His sigh fluttered the papers he leaned over. Foremost he wanted Beth safe, but he couldn’t deny wanting her in his bed just as fervently. A new realization sprang to light. Finn had rescued Beth and returned her to his side. As long as he kept Finn amused, the elf would keep her safe.

He scanned the selection of newspapers. “Fine then, what is it?”

“You’re in this then? Ready to play?”

“Yes.” A kid beside him backed away. Ah right, nobody else could see Finn.

Finn appeared on his feet by Calum’s side. “Good. Come with me then.”

With the newspaper gripped in one hand, he followed Finn over to the next aisle where shelves stacked with bottles, soap, and cotton puffs sat across from cat and dog food.

“You’re going to need this.” A bottle teetered over the edge of the shelf in front of him. Calum snatched it up before it hit the ground, glancing quickly along the aisle for customers.

He read the bottle: ‘Simple Pleasures Almond Blossom Bubble Bath.’ “Is this a jest? I’ll never get that woman into the bath with me. We didn’t end on a romantic note last night, which I’m sure you’re aware since you’ve mastered being in two places at once. It’s been a bloody hell of a day, and it’s only nine in the morning.”


You
don’t get to take a bath with Bethia, all sudsy and slippery and naked together.” Finn frowned. “Not yet, warrior. Don’t forget, the chase is just as entertaining as the conquest.
She
gets the bath. You will be her attendant. Wash her lovingly — her back, her arms, her feet — no further, no kiss this time and
that
I do stipulate. And, Calum, do a thorough job. I want you to rouse what she’s kept latent. Leave her breathless and aching for you.”

He cleared his throat and stopped short of rolling his eyes. “As decadent as that sounds, she will not welcome me anywhere near her bath. The woman’s shown no skin. She’s gotten herself into the most bashful human body I’ve yet to know.”

A lady pushing a stroller came down the aisle, but quickly retreated from the demented man talking to the bubble bath. He blew his breath out in a huff.

“That’s a shame because you would have but one task undone, and then …” Finn’s lips curled in a devilish smile.

“Fine, I’ll do it, but I don’t need your help. Don’t take my shirt or my pants or anything else.” What was he thinking? He shouldn’t give the immortal ideas. “Finn, just leave me to it, and I’ll do my best.”

“You always do. That’s what I love about you humans, you work so hard. If there was another Calum roaming about, the world would be a better place.”

Finn vanished. A bottle of body scrub with coconut oil tipped off the shelf just before the body cream fell. Calum caught them on top of the newspaper. He stood frozen for a moment, eyes darting, until he felt the breeze of Finn’s departure.

He could use a bubble bath right about now.

Calum walked back to the car. Where should they go? Which direction would effectively evade both the police and the crazed criminal halfwits, and let’s not forget best induce the desire for a bubble bath?

“It took you long enough,” Beth said as he got in. “Oh muffins, good work.”

Calum tossed her a morning glory.

“I called that real estate office to talk to Chantal Desjardins. She’s still out of the office, so I left a message that I was interested in selling my home here and relocating to Ashbury.”

“I thought your phone didn’t work.”

With a quick tilt of her head, she indicated a booth stuck in full view of the road. “I used that phone. It was only a minute and I kept my back to the road. It was driving me crazy sitting here doing nothing and why should I hide? I’m not guilty of any crime.” She snatched up the newspaper.

“Can I not leave your side for a moment without you risking your neck?”

She responded with a roll of her eyes over the top of the newspaper.

“It doesn’t matter that you’re innocent — ”

He watched her stop breathing as she read the article. With eyes wide, she told him what she’d read. “A woman from the meal program, Mrs. Cobbs, died a few months ago in her bed. There was no mention of foul play at the time, but the police are now revisiting the case.”

“Surely you’re not being accused of murder?”

“No, not murder, just jewel theft. I never thought I’d say that — just jewel theft. A sapphire necklace that belonged to Mrs. Miller, also from Meals on the Move, was found in my house. Cripes! How could that be?”

“Popeye was in your house.” He suffered little doubt now that Matthew was the one who had entrapped Beth, but one necklace wouldn’t warrant a life sentence.

Beth reached for the ignition. “Why steal a necklace and put it in my house? How does that help Matthew build his hospice? And what does he want from the backpack? Nothing makes sense. I have to go to the police and straighten this out before I am accused of murder.”

The fine hairs rose on the back of his neck. “No police, not yet. Not until we learn more. As far as I’m concerned, the police pose as great a threat as do the halfwits. I’ve a need to talk to the real estate agent myself and till then, I’d like nothing more than to hide you away safe in the hills if only there was such a croft …”

A strip of paper caught his sight as it fluttered out of the air into his lap. He spared a glance at Beth, hoping she’d not seen it. No luck.

“Calum?” She moaned. “Where did that come from?”

He shrugged. “Must have been in the newspaper?”

“But, it fell from … never mind. I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m saving my breakdown for later.”

He read the ad. “A secluded, one–bedroom mountain retreat, rustic but quaint.” One bedroom. Damn, he was tired of sleeping on chairs. As he scanned the print, his eyes fell on the last line.
Leave your troubles behind and safeguard your eternal bond.
He folded the paper in half and slipped it into his pocket.

“I guess I’ll suspend my disbelief for the moment,” Beth said. “I know I didn’t fall down a rabbit hole, nor into a Mary Poppins painting, but someone is helping us, and whether it’s our fairy godmother or not, I say let’s go for the rustic but quaint retreat.”

“‘Tis no fairy godmother, and rustic but quaint could just as easily translate to wolf’s den but warm and furry. I agree with you though. It’ll fare safer than sitting here in the open. We’ve got directions, so we’ll retreat there.”

Chapter 17
Bubble Beth

“Stop the van,” Matthew demanded.

Bruce took his gaze off the road and peered at him through tired, blackened eyes. “Why?”

“Beth?” Matthew unbuckled his seat belt. “Beth’s not back there.” He pushed up out of the passenger seat and gripped the armrest as the van veered to the side of the road.

“How can she not be there?” Bruce asked.

Matthew cursed as he climbed between the seats of the van to the rear. He scanned the back seats from top to bottom as if a grown woman might have slid under the seat.

“How did she get out? You forgot to activate the childproof locks.” He added “idiot” under his breath.

“Not a chance,” Bruce shot back. “The lock must be broken.”

Matthew swung around and tried the door. It didn’t budge — locked. He collapsed into the seat and scowled. How did Beth escape a locked vehicle?

“You didn’t shut the door tight,” Bruce said and added, “idiot.”

Matthew had no idea how Beth had escaped, but he clearly remembered the door sliding into place securely behind her. If anyone was to blame, it wasn’t him.

“I’m turning around,” Bruce said. “We’re going back to the hotel.”

Across the street by the hotel, a man had shouted Beth’s name — the jackass she’d run with, no doubt. There’d been a despairing look on the guy’s face as he’d bolted into traffic. The anguished look had surprised Matthew. He quickly dismissed the possibility that the longhaired ass was despondent over losing Beth. Lose the girl, lose the money, which led him to speculate she hadn’t divulged the flash drive’s hiding place to the mountain man.

“Suppose Beth didn’t bring the flash drive with her,” said Matthew.

“If she turned it into the police like she said then we’re fucked.”

“Not the police. If she were innocent, she wouldn’t have run, but what if Beth doesn’t trust the mountain man? Or …”

“What mountain man?”

Matthew saw possible scenarios fitting into the flowchart he pictured in his mind. How many times had Beth praised his ability to commit and achieve each carefully planned goal he set? Her need for those characteristics in a man was deeply rooted in her and he fulfilled that need — perfectly. Had she truly been lured away from him? The more he considered it, the more unreasonable it seemed. But the fact remained — she’d been intimate with another man. The sound of his father’s taunt rang in his ears.
Played for a fool again. You’ll never learn to use your enemies.

He turned his attention to Bruce. “The guy who broke your nose. I saw him chasing after Beth back at the hotel. She could be using him for his muscle because she’s afraid of you.”

A look of offence further darkened Bruce’s face. “That coward came up behind me. I wouldn’t count on his muscle in a fair fight.”

“He broke your nose from behind? Get a handle on your ego. My guess is the mountain man is just for hire.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the mountain man. Beth will try to get in touch with your realtor friend. Have you talked to her?”

Matthew got up from the back seat. “Chantal? No. Left her a message. Open the door. I’m going to drive.”

BOOK: Love of Her Lives
8.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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