Keep Me Safe (4 page)

“Kane! We thought we heard you arrive last night. It’s been so long since you were here last. It must be over six months. Oh, and you have a visitor?” A woman, perhaps
mid fifties, waves a greeting in my direction.

Kane quickly puts a hand on my knee, pat
ting it lightly, before responding. “Ah, Jean, you never miss a trick. This is my girlfriend. Sky, meet Jean, an old friend of the family.”

“Hi Jean, pleased to meet you.
What a lovely part of Cornwall you live in….I could live here permanently. But please forgive us but Kane promised me a slap-up breakfast and I’m starving!” I smile rather too enthusiastically and sit back in my seat.

“Oh you too go ahead. Lovely to see Kane with a lady. Never seen it before. Aren’t you that lovely girl from the television? I’m sure I know your face. Such a pretty thing, my husband always says. How did you meet?” Jean steps in closer to the window,
inquisitive.

Kane and I exchange forced smiles. “
Oh, it’s a long story which I’m sure we will delight in telling you later.” Kane offers, making to close the window. Jean presses further, causing us both to silently sigh.

“Well, how about tonight? We are having a barbeque and I insist you come. Please. We haven’t seen you in ages, Kane.” Jean smiles broadly
searching our faces for an agreement. We nod in unison and wave our goodbyes.

We head into the village of Mylor Bridge. There is a post office,
newsagent, grocery store, fishmonger, butcher's shop and a pub called the Lemon Arms. The larger towns of Truro and Falmouth are only a short distance away, however, as we only need to buy some basic supplies then the village will suit our purposes. We grab what we need and hastily make our way back to the house. As we are silently unpack our goods, Kane eyes me. “You did well with Jean. I don’t think she suspected anything different from what we gave her. Now we just have to get through this damn barbeque. There was no point arguing with her, and besides, we’ll be here for a least a couple of weeks so we can’t completely avoid the neighbours or we really will draw attention to ourselves.”

I turn to face him. I nod my agreement. “Will we be safe
? I know it seems a daft question but I don’t know.”

He reaches across giving my shoulder a light squeeze. “We’ll be safe. But remember we have to keep in role, ok?”

Chapter Five

My hand is clasped tightly
and totally engulfed within Kane’s large strong hand as we approach the house next door. Strangely, as he rubs a reassuring thumb across my knuckles, I feel secure and safe, and do not want to let go of this connection.

As we enter, I take note that this house,
Creek Retreat
, is a mirror image of Kane’s family home,
Creek Haven
- a detached 5 bedroomed, 4 reception roomed waterfront house set in mature gardens of around half an acre with about 200ft. of direct water frontage, 32 foot long boathouse, workshop and slipway. It’s a beautiful family home and certainly a unique ‘Safe House’.

Jean gushes to greet us beckoning to a silver haired,
lofty man with a wide easy smile. “George, she’s here with Kane. I told you it was Sky Sinclair. Look how pretty she is!” She wraps me in a hug as I am ushered out through the French doors to be met by a small gathering of neighbours and local villagers.

Before long, I am passed through the throng of people, kissed and hugged, like a treasured long awaited new baby. I blush with the attention finding myself searching for the security of Kane.
However, I sense, I know, that his eyes have never left me.

***

The food was delicious. Smoky ribs, crayfish and lobster, prime steaks and every salad
I could dream about. I think Jean and her husband, George, could become my new best friends or even my adopted parents. The party is now relaxing, after stuffing ourselves to oblivion, into small circles of laughter and banter. Throughout, Kane has sat close by, but I am aware that he has not fully allowed himself the comfort of being relaxed, remaining still in full alert working mode.

He listens intently as I answer question after question about the life of a television presenter. Suddenly, a voice from across the gardens beckons towards me. “How did you end up in investigative journalism, Sky? You get yourself into some pretty tricky situations.”

Before I respond, Kane interrupts, assuming on my behalf. “I think Sky just wants to switch off for a while, don’t you, sweetheart?” He smiles tightly in my direction. He pulls himself out of his chair seating himself next to me. He wraps a playful arm around my shoulders initiating a loving couple façade. I feel a breath catch in my throat as his fingers dance innocently across the bare skin of my shoulder. I hear and feel his similar response as he too feels the jolt of electricity as we touch.

“Oh, no more questions, we promise. But we do want to know how you came upon investigative reporting. No offence, but you could be a fashion model with your looks.” George implores me further.

Again, Kane tries to ease the conversation away but I sigh resigned to answering one more question. “It’s ok, Kane.” I smile at him. “I’m happy to answer. Wikipedia probably has my whole story anyway.” I laugh lightly before continuing. “My father was an investigative journalist and I idolised him. When he was killed…..murdered…..I suppose I was determined to go after the bad guys. Somehow, chasing the criminals keeps me strong in a crazy kind of way. I bet you wish you hadn’t asked now. I’m sorry if I’ve put a damper on the party. But I’m so accustomed to just telling it how it is….well, there you go.”

I glance quickly towards Kane for reassurance that I somehow haven’t totally blown it, whatever
it
is, and am momentarily taken aback by the softness of his features. For a moment our eyes seem locked together as though magnetically transfixed. He rubs a tender thumb across my cheek before suddenly catching himself and resuming his working stance.

“So, a total change of subject…..how do you cope with beard rash?” A scrawny teenager sniggers behind us.

I snap my head in the direction of the question. “Excuse me?”

The teenager, the
youngest child of the local butcher I am soon to learn, presses on. “You can’t go on TV with beard rash. So you can’t kiss Kane very much.” The young woman flutters her eyes adoringly towards Kane. There is a round of laughter and teasing, all aimed in our direction. I feel the flush in my cheeks rising.

“We kiss often enough, don’t you worry, Janine.” Kane responds gruffly.

“Yes, we do. So I don’t need a stand-in, if that’s what you’re hoping!” I tease her in retort, hoping that we can steer the conversation away.

She hu
ffs from embarrassment folding defiant arms across her chest. “Well, I still say you don’t. My older brother has a beard and his girlfriend is always complaining of getting beard rash.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Janine. Drop it now.” Her father reprimands her. “Sky, kiss him and
maybe then she will shut up about it and stop her mooning.” He laughs heartily.

Suddenly, all eyes are on me. The seconds drag as I tennis ball glances between the circle of friends and Kane. His eyes are wide and momentarily, he seems genuine
ly out of his comfort zone.
Sky, you have been in worst scrapes than this.....

I lean inward towards Kane holding his face between my hands. I run my tongue softly along his bottom lip, gently nipping and sucking
, drawing his mouth open. A stunned groan escapes from his mouth. I feel his arousal overtake him as he pulls me firmly into his chest.  He grasps the opportunity of my parted lips, plunging his tongue deep into my mouth. His taste is exquisite, intoxicating and I want more, my tongue finding his, circling and dancing in tune. My moan vibrates across our lips as we hungrily crave to deepen the kiss further.

We snap apart as we hear the
gasps of those surrounding us, cheers and wolf whistles echoing in the night air. Kane stares at me, breathless, with hooded lustful eyes. I feel a flush spread across every inch of my skin.

Chapter Six

Alexei Bortsov launches himself out of his Orbit leather recliner striding angrily towards the two incompetent fools stood before him in his study. “I said find her….not bring me excuses why you have failed! You fucking idiots! I want you to find Sky Sinclair. How fucking hard can it be?!!” He turns away in disgust, balling each hand into a tight fist. “Get out of my fucking sight! Find her!”

Viktor and Yury immediately depart the study
. Viktor glares at his partner, his lip snarled in fury. “You lost the Brabus. This is your fuck-up!”

“Get out of my face, Viktor! We need to find her and fast!”

***

Several days have passed since the night of the barbeque. And
that
kiss. Kane and I left
Creek Retreat
shortly afterwards and each departed into our own room without a further word spoken between us. Since then, we have danced cautiously around one another keeping any communication to a minimum. The air in the house is thick with tension and I sense that Kane is feeling as suffocated as I am.

Thankfully, Storm is due to arrive today to bring us an update on the investigation.
DCI Jack Mercer may accompany him but if there is any hint of an increased risk that he is being ‘watched’ then it is agreed that Storm will relay the information on his behalf. Either way, I am relieved to have further news but more so to have another person and distraction in the house, even for a few hours.

I busy myself until then making sandwiches for lunch and endlessly researching Alexei Bortsov on the internet. Since I began this investigation, there has been a constant niggle picking at the base of my mind, and frustratingly I cannot fathom what it is. But there is something more to find. I just do not know what.
Yet.

***

A rumble from the driveway leaps me from my chair. Kane has sprung into action, his hand signalling me to still, his finger already stroking the trigger of his Sig Sauer P226. I hear a singular, low bird call witnessing Kane visibly relax. Moments later, a gentle two tap knock on the door indicates that Storm has arrived. He folds his bulk through the doorway grinning broadly at his boss. DCI Mercer follows closely behind.

The gentle giant robotically scans the room before settling his eyes in my direction. “So how are the things in the happy house?” He guffaws. “I see you haven’t killed each other yet.”

“Storm!” Kane growls, throwing Storm a warning glare.

“Oh, I’ve been tempted…..believe me.” I drawl lightly in response, flashing a smile at the two arrivals. I make my way through to the kitchen to collect the prepared refreshments onto trays. The three men busy themselves with general catch-up chatter while awaiting my return.