Silent Vows (5 page)

“Just tell me one thing.” He looked away, giving her an out if she wanted to take it. “Are you in trouble with the law?”

“God no.”

“Don’t you mean, ‘you don’t think you are?’” he mocked.

She shifted in her seat. “I’m not in trouble with the law.”

Her second honest answer. Maybe he was stupid for believing her, but he did. Then again, he needed to have his head examined by the department shrink after his actions on this day. He tempted his luck and asked her more. “What’s your name?”

She reached for her drink, struggled with her answer before she spoke. “My name is Myra.”

“Myra what?”

“Please, Todd, I can’t. You wouldn’t understand.”

“You would be surprised at what I understand, Myra.” When she didn’t give him any more he asked.

“You’re running from someone. Who? An ex-husband?”

“Nay, I’ve never married.”

“Then who?”

“I can’t tell you.” She finished her wine and stared into the empty glass.

“And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you’re running from.” He wanted to be angry, and a part of him was, but the fear he sensed from her and his crazy need to protect her overshadowed his annoyance. God he hoped his dick wasn’t interfering with his good sense.

“If you want me to leave I will. But I can tell you no more. I’m sorry. Truly, I am. You wouldn’t understand.” Her eyes leveled with his, challenging him. He kept her gaze for a full minute before he pushed his plate aside, no longer interested in 34

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eating. “It’s late. Let’s get some sleep.”

Myra followed him. “The bathroom’s down the hall. If you need anything let me know.” He watched her set her bag on the bed. “I’m just down the hall.”

“Thank you.”

You can thank me by trusting me.
He wanted to scream, but didn’t. Instead, he wished her goodnight and walked away.

Before he made it to his room, he heard her whisper, “I’ve already told you too much.” He stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at the door to her room. It had been a long night, one he wouldn’t soon forget. Maybe he could get her to open up more tomorrow.

Leaving his door slightly open, he listened to her movements. He heard the soft click of her door and the creak of the bed as it gave under her weight.

Now what the hell am I going to do?

****

Myra woke early and lingered in the hot shower she was quickly growing to love. The endless supply of hot water washed away her trepidations.

She had slept better than in the hospital. In fact, she’d rested more than she had in weeks.

Glancing at her reflection in the mirror, she ran a finger over the fading circles beneath her eyes. She had been so nervous about her journey into the future she hadn’t slept for weeks prior to the trip.

There were so many things Tara had prepared her for, and so many she hadn’t. Her wait for Lizzy was unexpected. Pulling a brush through her hair, she thought of the men who attacked her. They scared her more than she wanted to admit. The harsh reality of life without her family crushed down on her in those moments in the alley.

Yet the family was right in sending her to the future. Grainna needed a Druid virgin to break her curse and would have done everything within her 35

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power to capture Myra, and kill her.

She was on her own.

Except for maybe Officer Todd Blakely, who had acted as gallant as any knight. More so when she realized they shared a home for a full night and never once did she feel her virtue threatened.

Todd Blakely was no ordinary man. He knew she lied and still helped her, asking nothing in return. Well, perhaps a few answers, but that was all.
I’ll make it up to him,
she vowed silently.

After dressing in the only change of clothes she brought, she cleaned the clothes worn the previous day and placed them above the shower to dry before leaving the bathroom in search of food and Todd.

Todd stood in the kitchen making coffee. Closing her eyes, Myra savored the rich aroma. She was beginning to love coffee. No wonder Tara put it on the list of things to bring back with her when she went home.

Todd moved slowly, his eyes half open, appearing as if he had just stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen. His bare muscular chest narrowed to lean hips covered by a pair of baggy cotton pants made her instantly aware of the man. She’d seen knights remove their shirts on occasion after an intense battle or during heavy training, but Todd?

Todd’s ease with his nudity had her swallowing saliva down a dry throat. She licked her lips and prayed he wouldn’t notice her unease.

****

Watching from lowered lashes, Todd took in her bare feet and wet hair.

God she was beautiful. Fresh. He tried not to stare, but her face was a magnet. His body reacted recklessly, just like his mind had done the night before.

He hadn’t slept well with her in the next room.

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It wasn’t until the predawn hours that his lids finally shut. Now, he hovered over the coffee pot wishing the machine would move faster. He needed something to do with his hands other than picturing them on her.

“Good morning,” she offered.

“You look rested.”

“I am, thank you.” She cleared her throat. “Your home is very quiet.”

“Humm...coffee?” he asked when the pot was half full.

“Oh, yes, please. I just love your coffee here.”

She took the cup.

“They don’t have coffee in Scotland?”

“Nothing like this I’m afraid.” She smiled over the rim and pulled in the scent, savoring it.

“I thought Folgers was everywhere.”

Myra sent a coy smile, but didn’t add anything.

He moved around the kitchen, completely aware of her stare. His baggy sweat pants and full day and night’s growth of beard had him squirming under her gaze. What was she thinking?

“Are you working today?”

“No. I go in tomorrow.” He handed her a bowl of cereal and watched as she took her first bite.

Surprise lit her face as she started to chew. “Don’t tell me you don’t have cereal in Scotland either?”

“I just can’t get over how different everything tastes.” She told him truthfully.

“Even cereal?”

Chewing, she avoided his question.

They ate in silence. Her peculiar behavior was laced with lies, but Todd wasn’t awake enough to play verbal roulette.

She was going to answer some questions today, he told himself. He would give her time to tie her tongue in knots, then pounce and get what he needed. If her silence were any indication of her 37

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wavering will to remain untruthful, then it wouldn’t take long to crack her open.

“Do you know of an antique dealer near by?” she asked, catching Todd off guard.

“Antique dealer?”

“Aye.”

“Not personally, but I’m sure there are a few.

Why?”

“I have something that might be worth a bit of coin to sell. To help pay my way.”

Interesting choice of words and it wasn’t just the singing way she spoke. “What is it?”
And is it stolen?

“I’ll go get them.” She left and returned with two objects covered in a cloth. She unwrapped an elegant pair of candlesticks.

He knew nothing about antiques. The ornately carved objects in front of him were beautiful, but he had no other appreciation for them than that. The jeweled bases were flashy and he imagined that if the stones were real they would be worth a lot of money. “Are they old?”

“Oh, yes. My family has owned them for many years.” She gazed at them with loss.

“And they don’t want them anymore?”

“My need to sell them outweighs the need to own them.”

He picked one of them up. It was heavier than it looked. “This family of yours agrees with you?”

“Yes, they’re the ones who told me to take them with me.” She watched him examine her family heirloom. “They’re not stolen, if that is what you’re thinking.”

He wasn’t trying to hide his thoughts and wasn’t surprised when she guessed his next question.

“Can’t help but wonder, me being a cop and all.”

She snatched the stick from his hand. “I’m not a thief.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

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“But you thought it.” She wrapped them both back up.

“True.” He got up to pour them both more coffee.

“What am I supposed to think? You’ve been lying about everything since I met you.”

“I’ve never stolen anything in my life.”

Placing his hands on the counter, Todd looked directly into her eyes. “Let’s go over the facts as I see them. Here I have a beautiful, well-spoken woman who fakes amnesia to avoid questions. She has such a strong conviction about whatever it is she’s hiding that she takes to the streets in a city she is unfamiliar with.” He moved around the counter and stood next to her. “She has a family somewhere, but is unwilling or unable to ask for their help.”

She looked down at her hands to avoid his eyes.

He touched her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“This woman shows me a pair of candlesticks that look expensive, and I’m supposed to believe they aren’t stolen? I’m gullible, Myra, not stupid.”

“If you think so little of me, why are you helping me?” she whispered.

He watched her eyes dart back and forth between his. “I don’t know.” He moved closer, his hand left her chin and rested on her shoulder. He really should walk away but her scent drew him in.

“I promise you, I didn’t steal them.”

“Prove it.”

****

Myra swallowed hard. “I can’t.” She stood up and backed away from him. He was cutting off her air. His nearness conflicted with her body and brain.

“Why?”

She gave him her back, and tried to collect herself. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“This is going nowhere. I should leave.” Myra started toward her room.

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He reached out and pulled her back and into his arms. His free hand caught her wet hair on the back of her head and held it. His eyes searched hers for a brief moment before he swore, “Dammit.” Then his lips crushed down to hers.

She hadn’t expected it and stood stunned and unable to move. His assault on her mouth was as torturous as it was pleasant. His hungry kiss was laced with anger. No one had ever kissed her like this, no one would have dared.

When his other hand swept up to hold her head in place, she swayed toward him. His tongue probed hers, demanding. Once her lips parted, he moved in deeper. The intimacy of their kiss, his complete possession of her senses, had her swimming.

Butterflies exploded inside of her when his kiss went on. Stunned at first, she simply let him in. Yet as the kiss grew, her own desire swept over her. Her timid hand, clutched at her side, moved to his waist.

Todd groaned and pressed her to the wall.

His hard frame brought awareness to every crease of her body. Myra’s fingers touched the bare skin of his warm welcoming chest. A surge of heat pooled deep in her stomach and caused an aching deep within the folds of her sex.

He moved away almost as quickly as he had taken possession.

Breathless, her eyes stayed shut, afraid to look at him. She was embarrassed somehow, even though she had nothing to be embarrassed about.

“That shouldn’t have happened,” he spoke through the fog.

“Aye, you’re right about that.” She dared a look.

Saw understanding eyes.

“You drive me to do things I wouldn’t otherwise.”

“I’m sorry.”

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“No, you’re not.” His expression searched hers again. “Give me something, Myra, something to start the trust.”

His request sounded more like a plea.

“MacCoinnich, my surname is MacCoinnich. My home is in Scotland, but I cannot return there yet.”

Todd nodded and took a deep breath.

“I’m going to take a shower, Myra MacCoinnich, and then we can find an antique dealer to see what it is you have.”

She glanced toward the door, wondered briefly if she should leave, but knew she wouldn’t.

“Promise me you won’t go.”

Did he read her thoughts? “I promise.”

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Chapter Four

After visiting two antique shops, and finding them operated by average minimum wage clerks, Todd decided to take their chances at an auction house that specialized in antiques.

He knew he was in the right place the minute they went through the alarmed door with a security guard standing by.

Todd immediately asked for whoever bought items or commissioned them to sell. While they were waiting, Myra walked the floor.

A candelabrum stood on one of the massive tables in the center of the room. Her fingers lingered on the piece as she sighed.

Todd watched her touch the ends of it and smile.

“You would need a big room to fit that piece.”

“Yes, you would.”

“I wonder why it’s so large.” It stood almost four feet tall and had room for over a dozen candles.

“Back when this was made, it needed to light a large dining hall or room. We, er, they didn’t have lights like you do today.”

“Ahh, just what I love to hear, someone who knows mid-century art.” The proprietor wore a three-piece suit and an extra fifty pounds. His beard was neat, short and just like him. “Welcome to Graystones.” He extended his hand to both of them.

When he turned to Myra he said, “You look very 42

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familiar, have we met before?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“My mistake. My name is Robert Harrison. I was told you were looking for me.”

“Are you in charge of buying antiques?” Todd asked once they sat down next to the man’s desk.

“Some we buy, some we commission for sale.

What is it you want to sell?”

Myra removed the candlesticks out of her bag and un-wrapped them one by one. “I hate to part with them, but I find I must.” She lovingly put them on his desk.

He reached for his glasses, set them on the end of his gin blossom nose, and proceeded to stare.

“Amazing. Where did you get them?”