Eli pulled her against him, smoothing down her unruly hair. “You had me worried.” He kissed the top of her head. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Grabbing her art supplies, he went ahead of her and waited for her to lock up. Everything seemed copasetic on the street.
He checked Sam’s car then stashed her things in the back seat. “Are you going to your aunt’s house?”
She nodded. “Want to come over?”
More than she knew. But he needed to check on his sister. He had a friend in Atlanta he hoped would be able to drop in on Lizzy for a visit. No telling how she’d do with a sudden move to a new facility. Since he wasn’t able to travel to Atlanta right away, phone calls to the key staff members would have to suffice, and that would take some research. “How about later this evening?”
Sam narrowed her eyes at him.
“I have a couple things to take care of first.”
Shrugging, she started her car. “Okay. See you later then.”
“Be aware of your surroundings, okay?”
“I will.” Her lips bunched to one side. “Are you all right? You seem…I don’t know, nervous.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m just concerned about you, that’s all.”
“Thanks for rescuing me.”
His chest tightened. Had he brought this danger into her life? Although Diaz might have sent someone way scarier after her if Eli hadn’t screwed up and been assigned the task of getting her sapphire. Maybe he was fooling himself, rationalizing away blame that rested squarely upon his shoulders. “I’ll see you soon.” He shut her car door then waited as she pulled away from the curb.
Rescuing her? If she only knew.
Sam braked to let a pair of blondes cross the road in front of her. Wait, she knew that woman. And the other one—it was Jordan and Mallory, the twins from the cat café and the salon, respectively. One of them appeared to be searching for something. The blonde in the black shirt dashed ahead of her sister into a cloche of trees on the edge of the Sherwood House grounds.
The other twin shook her head and followed.
Something about the situation made Sam think that the twins were in trouble or at least upset. Sam parked her car and headed after them. “Hey,” she called to the closer one. “Are you guys okay?”
The blonde narrowed her eyes at Sam for a moment then gave her a tight smile and closed the distance between them. “Jordan does this all the time.”
Her statement only clarified that Sam was speaking to Mallory. “Does what?” Sam asked her. “Is she all right? I just saw her a little while ago.”
Mallory gestured at side-by-side tree stumps and sat on one of them.
Sam joined her.
“My sister talks to animals,” Mallory said.
Sam shrugged. “I do, too. I spoke to my aunt’s cat, Ginger just this morning.”
Mallory shook her head. “You don’t understand. Jordan telepathically communicates with cats, dogs, birds, horses, all sorts of animals.”
“Oh, I see.” For someone who had a ton of relatives with various forms of magic, Sam didn’t have trouble believing Mallory’s claim. “Can you?” she asked. “I mean, you two are identical, right?”
“We are, but we have different gifts. Tarot cards are my gift, as you saw.”
Jordan’s disembodied voice interrupted their conversation. “Do you have a home? Oh, I see.”
Mallory rolled her eyes. “Everywhere she goes, she finds a stray, and sometimes she convinces it to let her take it to the cat café or the local animal shelter.”
“I see,” Sam said.
“Do you live at the Sherwood House?” Jordan said from a few yards away.
Mallory sighed. “I’ll probably be here a while. You don’t need to stay. We’ll be fine.”
But Sam didn’t feel comfortable leaving Mallory sitting in the dark with her twin wandering about in the heavily wooded park. “It’s fine,” Sam said. “I’ve got time.”
Mallory opened her purse and took out a small fabric-wrapped bundle. She peeled away the cloth to reveal a deck of tarot cards. “Want a quick reading? My sixth sense is telling me that you had unresolved questions from the last one I did for you.”
Sam realized that the psychic’s prediction about a whirlwind romance had come true. But Mallory had also said something about the guy not being trustworthy. Sam’s stomach suddenly ached. “Um…sure. If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Mallory handed her the deck. “Try to concentrate on your question as you shuffle.”
As Sam shuffled, she concentrated on Eli and their new relationship. Yes, even though they’d just met, and Sam hesitated to form any attachments, she felt a connection to Eli that she didn’t want to lose. But was being with Eli a mistake? She handed the cards back to Mallory.
Mallory stood up and fanned them out on the tree stump. “Pick three.” After Sam chose her cards, Mallory shined her cell phone’s flashlight down on them and grimaced. Touching a card with a scary-looking man on it, she pursed her lips. “You—or someone you’re close to—is entrapped by a man, attached to him by use of trickery. The Devil is a complicated card, though. Along with these others in the spread, it could mean a strong sexual connection as well.”
Sam gulped. Was Eli somehow tricking her?
“I see someone either with a lot of wealth, physical strength, or a great deal of erotic power.” The psychic stared at the cards for several more moments. “I have to be honest. This is a warning. You see how the three swords pierce a heart?”
Dread settled deep in Sam’s bones. “Yes. That doesn’t look promising.”
“And with the seven of swords, there’s probably some sneakiness involved. This man has an agenda and might mean you harm. Does this make sense in your life?”
Gulping, she nodded. “It does,” she managed. Again she’d thrown caution to the wind and allowed herself to be taken in by someone who wasn’t good for her. “And it’s so similar to the reading you gave me a few days ago.”
Mallory gathered up the cards and wrapped them in the cloth, her face solemn. “You know, this is open to interpretation. Never assume that you can’t change the road you’re on. The tarot merely tells us the path we’re traveling at the moment, and sometimes the consequences of the choices we make. There’s nothing to stop you from changing your destiny.”
Nothing to stop her from ending things with Eli—nothing but her heart. She should never have let him in there. Only she had. She’d broken her own rule of only engaging in casual flings. How had she allowed herself to start caring about Eli so quickly?
Jordan stepped out from behind some hibiscus bushes. “Oh, hi, Sam. What are you doing here?”
“I was driving home and saw you and Mallory,” she explained. “You looked as if you might need help.”
“Aw, thank you. That’s so sweet.” Jordan hugged her. “I saw a cat who looked scared. I went after him to see if he was okay.”
“And?” Mallory asked.
Jordan smiled at her twin. “He lives near here, but he comes to the Sherwood House to play with some of the Sherwood cats.”
Mallory furrowed her brow. “The Sherwood cats?”
“There are dozens of cats that live on the grounds,” Jordan explained to her sister.
Sam nodded. “Legend has it that they’re all descended from the original mousers that traveled here from England on the ship that sank in the harbor. Aunt Emma says that all the Sherwood cats are magic.”
“That’s true,” Jordan said. “Hey, Sam, Mallory and I were headed to The Galley for dinner. They’ve got great Scotch eggs and fish and chips. And we always play darts after we eat. Want to join us? I’ll warn you, though. My sister is super competitive, and she usually wins.”
Sam remembered that she was supposed to be meeting Eli at the cottage. But now that she’d had a second reading warning her about him, she wasn’t so sure she should spend any more time with him. She needed a little while to process her thoughts. “I
appreciate it, and if it’s okay, I’ll take a raincheck.”
“Of course,” Mallory said. “Have a good night.”
“You, too.” Instead of going home, she made a U-turn and drove toward her favorite spot in town—a hill overlooking the harbor where, as a kid, she’d spent hours sketching and painting.
She needed to draw and think. As much as she liked Eli, she wasn’t ready to face him.
Chapter Eight
Where the hell was Sam? Eli had watched her drive away from the store with his own eyes more than an hour ago. She should have arrived at her aunt’s cottage five minutes later, but she obviously hadn’t since her car wasn’t there. Could someone have intercepted her? Dread roiled in his belly as he knocked on the door to the cottage again.
Lightning lit up the sky, quickly followed by a boom of thunder. Why hadn’t he gone with his gut and followed that SUV he’d seen earlier? What if Diaz’s man had Sam? He tried her cell but went straight to her voicemail. “Please call me, Sam. I’m worried. Where are you?” Gritting his teeth, he disconnected and paced the small mulch-covered parking pad. The nearest neighbor was at least thirty yards away, and considering the dense cloche of trees between the homes, someone could have dragged a person out of the cottage kicking and screaming, and no one would be the wiser.
He flashed on the faces of those sons of bitches who’d roughed him up in Atlantic City. They could have kidnapped Sam, then taken her somewhere else to persuade her to tell them where the sapphire was. What if they’d followed her here and hurt her. God, the notion cut through him like jagged glass.
He returned to the front door and tried the handle. Locked. Next, he checked the front windows, but they didn’t budge. As he was about to walk away, something moved inside one of the windows. Heart racing, he realized it was merely Sam’s aunt’s cat. “Where is Sam, Ginger?” he asked the feline.
Ginger stretched against the glass.
“You’re no help at all,” Eli told the animal as he continued to the next window.
Around the side of the house, he found an unlocked one and easily slipped it open just as the cloudburst hit. He climbed through into Sam’s bedroom, landing on the dresser.
The cat jumped onto Sam’s nightstand and meowed. If only the animal really could tell him something.
A quick search of the cottage yielded no clues as to Sam’s whereabouts. At least there was no sign of any kind of a struggle. He allowed himself a modicum of relief. Didn’t appear that she’d been there yet. Maybe she’d changed her mind about going home and had instead gone to the grocery store or the gas station. But the ease with which he’d been able to gain access to the house didn’t bode well for her safety, should anyone come after her.
After checking that the rest of the windows in the cottage were locked, he returned to Sam’s room and tried to lock the one he’d entered, but the latch was just out of reach. As he climbed onto the dresser to get closer, his foot slipped and knocked off a ceramic vase. The loud crash in the silent house stopped him cold.
Damn it. Now Sam would know someone had been there. Muttering a curse, he turned on his phone’s flashlight and started picking up the broken fragments. His gaze landed on a small drawstring pouch in the middle of the shards of pottery. He dusted it off and felt something rigid inside.
Could it be…? With trembling fingers, he loosened the string and fished out a sapphire brooch. God, he could barely breathe. The gem warmed in his palm. It was beautiful—even more dazzling than the matching one Rodrigo had shown him.
What the hell was he supposed to do now? Sam believed that the jewelry was the key to her future, so how could he rob her of that? Unless… Maybe by merely possessing the piece, her future—her very life—was in jeopardy. If he called Rodrigo and told him he’d located the jewel and was on his way to deliver it, the mobster would call off his goons, and Sam would be safe. Yes, that’s what he’d do.
An unseen vise clamped down hard on his chest. Sam was going to be destroyed to find the sapphire gone, especially if she figured out that he’d taken it. He didn’t have a choice, though—he had to keep her out of harm’s way.
He did his best to hide the ceramic fragments under the dresser then forced the lock on the window. On his way out, he hesitated a moment, inhaled her scent, which still lingered in the house. Much as it devastated him to know he’d never see her again, that was his only option—the only way to know she’d be all right, at least physically. She’d be heartbroken to learn that he’d taken the brooch, but at least she’d be alive.
He left through the front door, making sure it was secure as he did. Dodging raindrops, he ran to his car. “Goodbye, Sam.” Clamping down on his emotions, he hurried away.
Sam parked in front of the cottage. Usually, drawing made her feel a little better when she was down. Not this time. She’d spent nearly half an hour on her favorite hill with her sketchpad, but she’d only wasted several sheets on dismal pencil drawings that looked as if a kid had made them. Besides, it had started storming shortly after she’d gotten to her spot, and drawing in the rain was impossible.
At least she didn’t have to face Eli yet. She’d shut off her phone in case he called. She just wasn’t ready to see him yet. The tarot readings had been pretty clear.
Inside the house, she went to her room to change out of her wet clothes, and breathed in the hint of a pleasant scent, something familiar, like the beach.
Ginger was curled up in the middle of Sam’s bed. She looked up at Sam and trilled.
“I’ll feed you in a minute, kitty.” As she slipped on a pair of sweatpants, an uneasy feeling settled in her gut. The wind howled outside and slammed branches against the roof. She strode to the window and pulled the curtains closed. A dark oval-shaped stain in the center of the dresser scarf caught her eye. Aunt Emma had put a vase there years ago to hide the spot—the vase where Sam had hidden the brooch. Her breath locked. A quick scan of the room confirmed that the vase was missing, but nothing else appeared to be gone. It had definitely been there in the morning. Before she’d left, she’d moved it aside to close the window.
Please, no.
The sapphire could have given her a future. She was sure that was why her father had willed it to her. Nausea swirled in her gut.
Sniffing the air again, she realized what she smelled—Eli’s cologne. He’d been there, and more recently than in the wee hours of the morning. A heavy weight pressed her chest.
What if the thief was still in the house? She couldn’t pin Eli’s name to that role, not without more information. She hated to even consider that he’d broken into Aunt Emma’s house, but in light of both tarot readings, and the fact that the vase was missing, who else could it have been?
Pulse hammering at her temples, she padded to the kitchen, grabbed a knife and searched the entire cottage. At least the burglar was gone. She returned to her bedroom with the weapon, just in case. A jagged chunk of pottery stuck out from under the dresser. She got on her hands and knees and found more—lots more. After she’d gathered all the fragments, she felt around for the pouch that held her sapphire, but it was gone.
Eli.
She sat against the dresser and buried her face in her hands. Why had she let a virtual stranger into her life? Looking back over the last few days, she should have known he’d been too good to be true. He’d showed up at exactly the right moment and had immediately started charming her with his offers of help, and his good looks. Again, she’d let her heart overrule her head. Now she’d lost the only thing of value she’d ever owned, the very item her aunt had said was so vital to her future.
Damn it. Was she destined to continue making stupid, self-destructive choices the rest of her life? She strode to the bed and opened her portfolio to her drawing of Eli, clenching her teeth to hold back tears.
Where had he come from? How had he learned where she’d hidden the sapphire? Had he been watching her for a while? Following her? Or had she been her own undoing by telling him about the je
wel?
She studied the picture as if it would give up his secrets, and provide her with the answers she sought. Unwanted images of the two of them locked in passion filled her head. He’d touched her so tenderly. She’d yearned to believe he was different from the others. He was, she supposed. Rather than merely using her for sex, he’d manipulated her with it.
Sinking onto the mattress, she let the sadness linger, the latest betrayal in her life. She tore the drawing in half, destroying it just as Eli had wrecked her heart. Then she crinkled the pieces, and closed her eyes, finally giving in to tears.
She prayed for sleep’s release, only it refused to come. Tossing and turning, she couldn’t escape the sound of his voice, the scent of his skin. She closed her eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.
Lightning flared blue through the curtains. A crack of thunder shook the house. Then the distinctive crash of breaking glass.
Sam bolted upright, suddenly wide awake. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. More glass shattered. Grabbing fistfuls of the bedsheets, she listened.
The wind had died down. Something clicked—a door lock, a gun?
Afraid to breathe, she tried to focus on the door in the dark. Another flash of lightning illuminated the room. The knife she’d carried into her room earlier was stiff on the dresser, only a few steps away. But would the creaky wood floor give her away?
Her fingers trembled as she eased back the covers, grabbing her cell as she did. With another glance at the doorknob, she tiptoed to the dresser and picked up the knife.
A million scenarios raced through her brain—a stranger was in the house; it was a prowler, who’d leave when he heard her; or perhaps Eli had returned to silence her.
No, Eli wouldn’t—couldn’t hurt her. And he already had the only thing of value she’d owned, didn’t he? Then she remembered that the creepy guy at the store today had asked about the jewel in the painting. But how could he know she had it? Unless—
The floorboards outside her room creaked. A metallic click followed and amped up her terror. With a death grip on her weapon, she stepped away from the window and into the shadows behind the chair. She crouched and offered up a silent plea that whoever was on the other side of the door meant her no harm.
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