Читать книгу No Risk Refused - Cara Summers - Страница 11

ADAIR’S EYES SNAPPED open. It took a moment for the rest of her mind to register reality. She was in bed and it was still dark. Moonlight poured through the windows. A quick glance at her digital alarm told her that she must have just dozed off. Three-thirty in the morning and something had awakened her.

Not Cam Sutherland. He’d called Vi and said he’d be arriving in the morning. But she could definitely blame him for the hot, sweaty dream that had awakened her shortly after midnight. That was when she’d opened her balcony doors to cool off.

The sound came again and she recognized it immediately. Alba was barking. Adair let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her aunt’s room was in the west wing on the other side of the main staircase, and Vi had mentioned the dog was waking up and barking during the night for no apparent reason. So far she’d managed to sleep through Alba’s nightly ritual.

Not tonight. That’s what very little sleep, a lightning strike and the discovery of a priceless sapphire earring would do for you. But they were going to keep the discovery under wraps. That’s what her father had advised when Aunt Vi had called him. And he’d said he was going to call Reid to let him know so that arrangements could be made to check out the security at the castle. In the meantime, she and Vi had hidden the earring away in a place that was as good as Fort Knox—Angus One’s secret cupboard.

Alba continued to bark.

Adair stared up at the ceiling. She’d already lost enough sleep. She didn’t need a dog robbing her of the rest of it. She was about to burrow her head beneath the pillow when she heard something else.

Not a bark. More of a … what? A creak?

Jumping out of bed, she padded softly to the door, opened it and listened hard.

Nothing.

Even the dog had gone silent. Aunt Vi had probably quieted her.

She stood there and counted to one hundred while she told herself it was nothing. The castle had never had a break-in. And Vi had assured her the latest updates on the security system had been installed.

But then she recalled how the dog had barked shortly after they’d found the earring. Alba had sensed someone or something in the hills above the stone arch. And she had been holding the earring in her hand. If there’d been someone up there lurking or spying, they’d been in a perfect position to have seen it.

Turning, she paced back into her room and checked the time. Three-forty. Then she strode back to the door and debated going downstairs. To what? To search for an intruder? Barefoot and weaponless?

No way. But there was no way she’d be able to fall back asleep either. She looked around for a weapon. Where was a large brass candlestick when you needed one? Settling on a sizable stoneware pitcher, she grabbed the handle and crept softly into the hallway.

At the top of the stairs she paused, listening again.

Nothing.

There was half a flight of stairs to a landing where tall stained glass windows filtered the moonlight. Once she reached it, she would be visible to anyone below in the foyer. She had to chance it. Taking a deep breath, she moved quickly down the stairs, rounded the curve of the banister, then slipped into the shadows and flattened her back against the wall.

She made herself take slow, silent breaths—in and out—while she counted to one hundred again. And listened. Nothing moved in the large, open foyer below. Nothing made a sound.

As seconds ticked by, she began to question whether or not she’d imagined the noise she’d heard earlier. It was an old house, she reminded herself.

She was ready to go back to her bedroom again when she heard something. A definite creak this time, as if someone had stepped on a board.

Seconds later, she heard it again.

Her heart thudded against her rib cage and she tightened her grip on the handle of the pitcher.

Security system or not, she was not alone in the house. She scanned the foyer again but the shadows didn’t budge. Step by step she started down the stairs. Slow and easy, she told herself. At the bottom she paused and listened again. To her right was a door that opened into the dining room, and an archway that led to the west wing that housed the library and the kitchen. To her left was a door that led to the main parlor.

Wood scraped against wood, and this time the creak was loud and familiar. Adrenaline spiked and her heart thudded even harder as she pinpointed the sound. The main parlor. And she knew exactly what was making it.

Someone was breaking into Angus One’s secret cupboard where she and Aunt Vi had put the earring. Temper surged through her, pushing fear aside. She was not going to let anyone steal that earring.

She moved quietly toward the door to the parlor and saw that it was ajar. The crack wasn’t wide enough to see inside the room. For a couple of seconds she debated what to do. If she called out, asked who it was, she’d alert them.

Not her best move.

The creaking sound came again, then the scrape of wood against wood. Then nothing.

Except for the footsteps. The carpeting muffled them, but they were getting closer. No time to debate her best move. She climbed onto the seat of a chair flanking the door and raised the pitcher over her head.

The opening in the door slowly widened. She stopped breathing. When the figure stepped into the foyer, she brought the pitcher down hard on his head.

He fell like a tree and the pitcher clattered and rolled across the wooden floor until it thudded into a wall.

He wasn’t moving a muscle. And he was big. The foyer was a good twelve feet wide and the man’s body filled a great deal of it.

Was he dead? Had she killed him? Her knees went so weak she nearly tumbled as she climbed down from the chair.

He moaned.

Relief had her sitting down hard in the chair. Not dead. She drew in a deep breath and the burn in her lungs told her she needed the oxygen.

The figure on the floor moaned again, then his hand snaked out, grabbed her ankle and jerked. She fell hard, the impact singing through her as he rolled on top of her and crushed her beneath him.

He was even bigger than she’d first thought. Still she fought. She went for his face but he blocked the move and pinned her hands over her head. His chest was like a slab of rock. So were his thighs. When she tried to kick he scissored his legs, trapping hers. Finally she screamed, but the only sound she mustered was a squeak.

“Princess?” Releasing her hands he levered himself up, taking some of his weight off her.

Shock was her first response. It was dark in the foyer but she knew that voice. And there was only one person who called her that. “Cam?”

For a moment neither of them moved. Adair felt as if her mind had become a clean slate, and something was happening to her body. All the fight had gone out of it and it was softening, sort of molding itself to his. Flames ignited at every contact point.

His body seemed to be growing even harder. She was intensely aware of every plane and angle, and the thrill of lying there beneath him was so much better than she’d ever imagined in her fantasies. His mouth was close, too. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips.

Panic spurted. She had to do something. Push him away. But her muscles seemed paralyzed. And her brain wasn’t doing much better.

She was going to have to rely on her mouth. “Get off of me.”

When he rolled away and rose to his feet, Adair realized that she’d never said anything more contrary to her desire. She’d wanted him to continue to lie on top of her; she’d wanted his mouth on hers. She’d wanted him to touch her the way he had in the dream she’d had a few hours ago. She’d wanted …

Stop, she said to herself.

Get back down here, she wanted to say to him.

“I’m going to have a hell of a headache in the morning, Princess. Are you all right?”

The easiness of his tone and his use of the nickname he’d given her helped her to gather her thoughts. So did the fact that he’d backed a few steps away and didn’t offer her his hand as she stood up. If he had …

Don’t go there.

“I’m just fine.” That was a total lie. She still couldn’t feel her legs, but she managed to fist her hands on her hips. “I’ll be a lot better once you answer some questions. First, what are you doing breaking into the castle in the middle of the night and into Angus’s secret cupboard? Second, how did you even know about that cupboard? It’s a MacPherson secret. Last, but not least, where is the earring?”

The barrage of questions made Cam smile. Even in the dimness he could see the flash of fire in her eyes. The heat they’d generated together a few seconds ago threatened to erupt again. He’d been right about the hair-trigger effect she’d have on his senses. It had taken all of his control to get up when she’d told him to. Every cell in his body had been focused on kissing her. And he’d have wanted to do a lot more than that. He still did. He was a man who trusted his impulses, went with them. In two quick strides, he could …

As if she sensed his intentions, she took a quick step back. “Are you going to answer my questions or not?”

She was close to the stairs and if his memory was correct, she was fast. If she ran she might get away. He might be able to let her.

It took a wise man to know when his first impulse wasn’t his best one.

“Well?” She tapped her foot.

He held up a hand. “It’s taking me a few seconds to process all of the questions. If you ever decide to give up the wedding destination gig, the CIA will hire you. They can always use a good interrogator.”

“I could use some answers.”

“I’m here because your dad and my mom called Reid. They thought that one of us should check out the earring and the security system. I made much better time than I expected to, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“So you broke in?”

“I decided to check out the security system and the earring without bothering you and your aunt Vi. The system is pretty good. It would take a pro or someone with a buddy on the inside to get through it. And since your dad mentioned that you’d put the earring in Angus’s secret cupboard, I just wanted to check and see if it was still there. It was.”

“How did you know about the secret cupboard?”

“My brother and I convinced your sister Nell to show it to us years ago. And I was a bit worried about how ‘secret’ it was.”

For a moment she said nothing. He felt the pull between them even more strongly than he’d felt it seven years ago, and he knew she felt it, too.

She turned and started up the stairs. “I’ll show you to your room.”

“Wait.” He turned to pick up his duffel, and his hand collided with something else. A stoneware pitcher. It had to have been what she’d clubbed him with. “Way to go, Princess. I’ve never been taken out by a pitcher before.”

“My pleasure,” she said as she led the way up the staircase.

“I’ll bet.” But he didn’t say it out loud, nor did he let the chuckle escape as he followed her.

“YOU’RE WILLING TO share your recipe for these delicious scones?” Bunny Maitland sprang from her chair, excitement clear in her voice.

“I’ll do more than that,” Vi said. “I’ll demonstrate. Follow me.”

Adair watched her Aunt Vi usher Bunny Maitland out of her office right on schedule and willed away the headache that was throbbing at the back of her skull.

Then she shifted her attention to Rexie. The bride-to-be hadn’t talked much during their meeting.

There hadn’t been much chance for anyone to talk while Bunny was sharing the good news like a weather reporter on a sunny day. The wedding would go on as scheduled. A good night’s sleep with all that magic mountain air and quiet—blah, blah, blah—had settled Rexie’s nerves.

Adair sorely wished the “magic” air had settled her own. Fat chance of that after her run-in with Cam, which had fueled more fantasies than the ones she’d already written down.

She hadn’t been able to catch more than a few winks of sleep. Not with her mind racing at full speed, imagining what might have happened if she hadn’t let him up from the foyer floor.

Thank heavens her arms hadn’t been working.

Too bad her arms hadn’t been working.

Adair pressed a hand to her stomach in an attempt to quell the heat that had centered there, but it was already radiating out to her fingers and toes.

Cam had clearly felt nothing at all. According to Aunt Vi, he’d left her a note that he’d left the castle early to visit the library in Glen Loch. Research on the missing sapphire jewels. He was obviously totally focused on his purpose in coming to the castle.

And she had to focus on hers. Reaching for her mug, she took a long swallow of her cooled coffee and shifted her full attention to Rexie. She wasn’t sure how long Vi could distract Bunny, and this might be her only opportunity to discover what was bothering the young girl.

The best description Adair could come up with for the expression on Rexie’s face was resignation.

So she asked the question that she might not want the answer to. “Rexie, do you want to marry Lawrence?”

“Of course.” The answer came quickly but Rexie didn’t meet her eyes.

Not good.

“Why do you want to marry him?”

Rexie’s eyes lifted to hers. “Because I want to do something right. I messed up my first marriage because I didn’t choose the right person. Lawrence is perfect for me.”

The fact that Rexie’s answer sounded memorized only increased the intensity of Adair’s headache. “How is Lawrence perfect?”

“My father and mother like him—he’s been such a good friend to them. And our marriage will help solidify the merger between Maitland Enterprises and Banes Ltd. This is my chance to help with that. My duty. Lawrence has already bought a beautiful estate for us on Long Island. He has memberships in two very prestigious golf and tennis clubs nearby. He’s going to hire a pro to help me improve my game. And his estate has a stable. He’s going to let me keep a horse. I used to show horses when I was younger.”

Adair studied Rexie. As she’d listed all the advantages of marrying Lawrence Banes, it reminded her of all the reasons she’d listed for herself when she’d decided to date Baxter DuBois exclusively. Of course, he’d pointed them out to her. They’d already teamed up on several projects at the office, and becoming a “team” outside the office would only enhance that. It would put them on the fast track for promotions. And the plan had worked at first. But then Bax’s career had begun to advance faster than hers.

She hadn’t seen it at first because she’d trusted him. More than that, she’d trusted her own judgment. It wasn’t until she’d had that final meeting with her supervisor that she’d learned how wrong she’d been. Bax had been taking all the credit for their success, even for the last client that she had brought in. She’d trusted him, and he’d dumped her the same day she’d been fired. He’d explained in his email that it might tarnish his image at the company if he continued to be seen with her. She of all people had to know how important perception was in the cutthroat world of career advancement.

She certainly did now. In Rexie’s perception Lawrence Banes was the perfect husband. Was he? “Rexie, are you in love with Lawrence?”

Panic flashed into the young girl’s eyes. “If I marry him beneath the stone arch, I will be. And I’ll be happy. Won’t I?”

Adair heard Bunny’s voice, her aunt’s laughter. She needed more time with the young bride-to-be, and she needed some help. “Why don’t we go down there right now? You didn’t have time to check it out yesterday—what with the storm and all. That way you can get a better feeling about it.”

“Could we do that?” Rexie smiled for the first time since her arrival at the castle.

“Follow me.” Adair rose and quickly led the way through the open French doors. The path to their right led around the front of the house to the gardens. With any luck at all, Vi would distract Bunny long enough that she could get what she needed from Rexie. Perhaps Rexie would get what she needed, too.

The morning was a beautiful one, the sky blue, the breeze cool, and this early in the morning the sun had risen just high enough in the sky to shoot bright lances of light off the surface of the lake. Pansies bordered the path and behind them peonies bloomed in various shades of pink.

Wesley Pinter, Glen Loch’s gardener and landscaper, a man who’d been handling the maintenance of the castle’s gardens since she was a child, was unloading the last planter from his truck. She noted he’d settled them temporarily on either side of the stone arch. The chairs that they’d set up for the rehearsal the day before were still there and Adair led Rexie to the first row. She gestured her into one and sat beside her.