Hidden Away (15 page)

She stayed in the shower until she was completely waterlogged and sweat beaded her brow from the overwhelming heat. She was completely limber, and warmth had seeped deep to where the cold had captured her in its relentless grip.

She reached up to turn off the water and stood sucking in deep breaths for several seconds before she shoved the curtain aside and stepped onto a ratty mat. She grabbed one of the towels neatly folded on the shelf over the toilet and wrapped it around her. She took another and wound it tightly around her hair before unwrapping herself again to finish drying.

Remembering Garrett’s instructions, she closed the lid to the commode and sank down and clutched the towel tightly around her. What was Garrett doing?

She couldn’t bear it if something happened to him. What if she’d sent him into a trap? What if whoever had been in her cottage was still there, waiting for her to return? If Garrett surprised him, Garrett could be hurt or killed. And she was stuck here. Alone.

She never should have let Garrett leave. They could have waited until morning when it was light and the storm had passed. Then she could go collect her things and get the hell out.

The time went by agonizingly slow. Unable to bear sitting, she stood and paced the impossibly small area. Two steps to the door. Two steps back to the toilet. Where was he?

She yanked the towel from her hair and ran her fingers through the damp strands, arranging it around her face. She still looked like a drowned, scared rat, but some of the wildness from her eyes had receded. Her pupils were normal size and color suffused her cheeks, probably thanks to the enormous heat from the shower.

How long had it been? It seemed like an hour but maybe it had only been a few minutes. Still, she stayed where she’d been told and kept the door locked. As much as not knowing frightened her, the idea of being vulnerable made her more so.

Her hair was nearly dry before she heard the footsteps down the hall. She held her breath and went completely still, her ears straining.

“Sarah, it’s me, Garrett. I’m back. You can open the door.”

She deflated like a pricked balloon. For a moment she simply sat there, her relief so staggering she couldn’t summon the energy to get up. Finally she stumbled to her feet and took the two steps to fumble with the lock on the bathroom door.

It swung open and Garrett stood there holding Patches. The cat was clearly not happy and was wet from the tip of her tail to her bedraggled ears. Garrett didn’t look much better.

She whirled around and grabbed one of the dry towels and then took the cat from Garrett and held her close to her chest. Garrett extended his other hand, which held her bag. “I packed your clothes. Get dressed and come into the kitchen. After I change, I’ll get us something to eat and drink.”

He dropped the bag at her feet and it was then she remembered she was only wearing a towel. And a very wet cat.

“Want me to take Patches so you can dress?”

Wordlessly, she thrust the cat back at him, towel and all and held both arms over her chest so the other towel didn’t slip. He backed out without a word and pulled the door shut behind him.

She hurriedly dressed, not paying attention to whether anything matched. She was anxious to hear what Garrett had found at her cottage. He hadn’t seemed too ruffled so maybe her visitor was long gone.

She shoved everything back into her bag and hung the towels on the rack to dry. Not bothering with any of the toiletries Garrett had brought, she hurried out of the bathroom and back toward the living room.

Patches sat on the couch grooming herself, and Garrett was clanking around in the kitchen. She went in his direction, pausing in the doorway as she watched him pour two glasses of tea. “What did you find?”

He turned, tea in hand and extended it to her. She took the cold glass and cupped it between her hands as she sipped at the sweet brew.

“Nothing,” he answered.

“Nothing? He was gone? I guess that’s good. I worried about you going over there and surprising him,” she babbled.

Garrett eyed her, a gleam of sympathy in his eyes. She didn’t like that look. It was a precursor to something she didn’t want to hear.

She set her tea down on the counter and squared her shoulders. “What?”

Garrett grimaced and put a hand on her shoulder to guide her back into the living room. “Honey, I didn’t find any sign of an intruder.”

She whirled around in agitation. “What are you saying? Do you think I imagined it? You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

He frowned. “Sit down and calm down.”

Blinking at the force of his command, she unconsciously obeyed, sinking onto the couch beside Patches.

“I don’t think you’re crazy, okay? All I’m saying is that I couldn’t find any sign that someone was in your cottage. But it’s raining like a son of a bitch outside. Evidence could have washed away. I couldn’t see very well, but I didn’t find any sign that anyone had been inside your cottage. I’ll be able to take a better look tomorrow. All I can tell you is that if there was someone there, he’s gone now.”

Another crack of lightning flashed through the living room and the floor vibrated under Sarah’s feet.

“I didn’t imagine it. I couldn’t have. Could I?” Her voice cracked and the last word came out in a high, hysterical note.

Garrett sighed. He nudged her chin and stared into her eyes, the deep blue of his burning her with their intensity. “Listen to me, Sarah. I didn’t say I didn’t believe you. I’m telling you what I found. Or didn’t find.”

“I’m sorry,” she said in a low voice. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. God, I came over here like a lunatic. Woke you up. Made you go out in the rain to find some nonexistent intruder.” She stood, knocking Garrett’s hand from her face. “I should go. Really. I’ve put you through too much trouble.”

She started to shove by him, but he caught her arm, his fingers curling gently into her flesh. He pulled her to him until she was shockingly close to his mouth.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to stay here with me.”

She started to open her mouth, but to her shock, Garrett sealed his lips over hers.

It was electric, a jolt to her system that fried her entire nerve system. He curved his hand around her nape and dug his fingers into her hair as he held her in place. His mouth moved sensuously over hers, gentle, but so demanding that her knees shook under the power of his touch.

Never had she been kissed like this. It wasn’t a touching of lips or a casual gesture of affection. It was carnal. Heated and possessive. He was placing a silent claim and it should have terrified her. She should be screaming the roof down but instead she stared dumbly at him as he drew away, his eyes gleaming in the soft light.

“You’ll stay,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.

And she found herself nodding.

“Good. Now that we have that out of the way, I’ll go put some clean sheets on the bed for you.”

She caught his arm, still so rattled she could barely process what she wanted to say. “No. I’ll sleep here on the couch.”

He shook his head. “You can have the bed.”

“Garrett, no. Okay? I’m fine. I swear it. There is no way you can fit onto this couch and you damn sure aren’t sleeping on the floor. I can take the sofa.”

He gave her an impatient look and then sighed. “Tell you what. We’ll share the bed.”

She found herself shaking her head before he could even get the words out. Panic raced up her spine. Chill bumps rose and fanned out, prickling over her skin like tiny razors.

He touched the side of her face. “Listen to me, Sarah. I’m not going to hurt you. Okay? The bed is plenty big. We can put pillows between us. I’ll stay on my side and you stay on yours. I don’t want you in this front room alone, so we either both sleep in the bed, or if you insist on taking the couch, I’ll have to camp out on the floor next to you.”

She was being stupid. She knew it but couldn’t fight the overwhelming fear that gripped her. It was irrational. It was blind. But when was fear ever sensible? She wanted to trust this man. That didn’t make any sense either, but there it was. The problem was, it wasn’t a matter of her deciding she trusted him or wanted to trust him and she could go on like a normal human being.

Her head didn’t care what her heart said. Her head was telling her to stop being a twit and to wise up.

Garrett stared at her a long moment and then reached behind his back and pulled out the gun. He gripped the barrel and extended the stock toward her.

She stared at the gun and then raised her gaze to his, her brow furrowed with confusion.

“You can sleep with this under your pillow. That way you’ll be safe from me. I won’t move the entire night. Not only am I used to sleeping in one position, but I damn sure don’t want to risk scaring you and getting my balls blown off.”

She tried to smile but could only think how pitiful her life had gotten. The only way she could allow a man to sleep in the same bed with her was if he offered her a gun for self-protection?

She closed her eyes. Jesus. It made her angry. So damn angry.

Finally she shook her head.

Garrett’s gaze softened as he tucked the gun back into his waistband. “I swear to you that you have nothing to fear from me, Sarah.”

She nodded her acceptance of his vow and lowered herself back onto the couch. Patches quit grooming herself and came over to rub against Sarah’s hand. She petted the cat, allowing the simple gesture to calm her fried nerves. And she tried not to think about the fact that she’d be sleeping mere inches away from Garrett.

PALE
shades of dawn painted the room in gradually lightening shadows. Garrett lay on his side, his head propped in his hand as he stared over the barrier of pillows to where Sarah slept. She hadn’t moved the entire night. He knew because he’d slept lightly and he woke up regularly to check on her.

She was huddled on her side facing him, and she’d inched as far to the edge of the bed as she could without falling off. Patches lay against her chest, curled into a ball of fur. At the moment, the cat was awake and batting lazily at the strands of Sarah’s hair that fell over her shoulder.

Though Sarah was asleep, there was no peace to her expression. Her brow was wrinkled and her lips drawn into a tight line as if her jaw was clenched tight. Dark smudges lay underneath her eyes as though she hadn’t rested in many nights. She probably hadn’t. He was glad that she’d slept soundly here. Maybe she felt safe with him. Or as safe as she could feel with a strange man.

He reached over and touched her cheekbone with one finger and then softly traced a line downward to her jaw and then to her lips. Lips he’d tasted the night before. She uttered a breathy sigh and her features relaxed, the tension easing from her face.

He was a dumbass to get all mushy about a woman who obviously had a great deal of baggage. There were so many reasons why he needed to treat this just like any other job. He had to be the world’s biggest pussy for being so soft-hearted when it came to her. It was, unfortunately an affliction he seemed to have around women. Rachel. Then Sophie. And now Sarah. He hadn’t even liked Sophie in the beginning, but that hadn’t stopped him from taking a bullet for her. And now he’d do damn near anything for his two sisters-in-law.

The difference here was that he hadn’t ever wanted to kiss his sisters-in-law. Oh he was hugely protective of them. No doubt there. But with Sarah, it was different. And he didn’t like it. Not even a little bit. But neither could he help the reaction to her.

It was as if he went on auto pilot around her. No matter what he thought, it all went out the window the moment he looked into her eyes.

“This bullshit has to stop,” he muttered. He was fast losing objectivity and worse, he was forgetting the task at hand. All he was supposed to do was keep her safe and wait for Lattimer to make his move.

The sun hadn’t yet to creep over the horizon. Sarah would likely sleep awhile. It would give him a chance to go back over to her cottage and check things out. The copious downpour from the night before made it difficult to find outside evidence, but he was going to give the cottage a thorough checking-over now that it was getting light.

 

 

SARAH
opened her eyes as soon as she heard the front door close. She scrambled out of bed and peeked out the window to see Garrett jog down the beach toward her cottage. She would have to move fast if she was going to get out before he came back.

She might very well be going crazy. Maybe there hadn’t been anyone in her cottage, but she wasn’t about to stick around on the off chance she was losing her marbles. She had an escape plan—a darn good one for as little resources as she had. And it was time to ask Marcus for help, as much as the thought scared her.

She went to her bag and hauled out a change of clothing but dug deeper until her fingers glanced over the bulge in the inside pocket. She pulled out the pay-as-you-go cell phone she’d only used once so far and punched in the number she’d committed to memory.

“Frederick, it’s Sarah. It’s time.”

She ignored the sound of amusement in his voice and hung up. Her heart beat so fast and hard that she couldn’t squeeze in a breath. She closed her eyes to shake the light-headedness, and when she reopened them, the room spun at a dizzying speed.

“Get it together,” she bit out.

Her gaze snagged on the note that Garrett had left her. She paused and then went back to the bed where Patches lay purring. She picked up the piece of paper and scanned the uneven scrawl.

She blew out a long breath. There was a part of her that hated leaving. Maybe the entire night had been her imagination, but it had shaken her confidence enough that she knew she couldn’t stay here. She was terrified to go back to her cottage, and she couldn’t stay with Garrett forever. She didn’t even know how long he was here for.