Barefoot in the Dark

by Suzanne Enoch

  If this was what married life with Sam Jellicoe was going to be like, he looked forward to it. With a slow grin he slid beneath the covers and put his arm over her waist, tucking her back against his chest. She never fell asleep before he did. He didn’t know if it was about her still being semi-nocturnal, or her level of trust, or how difficult it was for her to relax, but she’d never fallen asleep before him. Until tonight.

  Whatever else had happened here, now or in the past, he was doubly glad they’d made the trip. He wouldn’t be avoiding Canniebrae any longer, because Samantha had made it magical to him again.

  The dim light shining beneath the door from the hallway flickered and went out, followed immediately by distant shouts of “power’s oot”. Richard grinned, softly kissed Samantha’s cheek, and shut his eyes.

  “It’s not for you.”

  Samantha opened her eyes. She wasn’t sure if someone had spoken, or if she’d hung onto the tail end of a dream. Rick breathed softly against the back of her neck, so it hadn’t been him talking.

  The fire past the foot of the bed had been roaring when she’d climbed beneath the blankets; now it was a guttering red glow. Man, she’d slept hard. But hey, she’d helped save a village and a cousinly relationship, plus dug her way through a stone wall. And earned a parade, whether Jamie MacCafferty would follow through with that or not.

  She settled her head back down, then lifted it again. Two walkie-talkies lay on the floor, side by side, both of them pointing toward the door. Okay. They’d both been really tired when they’d gotten ready for bed, but that seemed…oddly symmetrical.

  Scooting carefully from beneath Rick’s arm, she stood. Something had made her wake up, and it hadn’t been a fear thing. She had a really strong instinct for self-preservation, after all. Grimacing, she padded barefoot to the door, stepping over the radios, and slipped into the hallway.

  Man, the floor was cold, but going back for shoes or socks might wake up Rick. On the other hand, what the hell was she doing out of bed at zero-dark-whatever? Taking a breath she turned around again – and heard something.

  It was an old house, yeah, but that had been a creaking floorboard sound, accompanied by a footstep sound. Changing course, she headed for the main staircase and descended, as usual staying close to the bannister where the steps were sturdier and less likely to make noise.

  On the first landing she paused. Dark movement down in the foyer, a human shape – with light-colored hair pulled back in a ponytail. Norway? That didn’t bode well. Nor did the satchel the wannabe reality star carried over one arm, or the night vision camera she held in the other.

  Samantha crouched, watching as Eerika put the camera in the bag, pulled on a dark coat, and turned on her phone to look at a photo. A photo of the old highwayman map.

  Crap. Norway had figured it out, then, just as Samantha had. The treasure being moved after Rick had discovered it, the likeliest new hiding place, everything. And she hadn’t told Reggie about it, because she was definitely alone. She’d probably figured it out down in the cave, and had kept it to herself.

  “Going somewhere?” Samantha asked.

  Eerika jumped, putting a hand to her chest. “What? Oh! You frightened me.”

  “I asked if you were going somewhere,” Samantha repeated.

  “Oh. Well, I was restless. Just going for a walk.”

  Sam had a couple of responses ready for that, but she went with the one that was the least self-incriminating. “You know I find lost treasures for a living, right? Try again.”

  Brushing her hair back from her face, Eerika straightened. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I’m going for a walk. Excuse me.”

  “Rick was willing to overlook you and Reggie digging through that old cave earlier. Maybe you should check with Reggie, though, before you decide to throw his million bucks and his new job away.”

  Abruptly Norway’s shoulders lifted. “Will Dawkin’s treasure isn’t protected by any law. Aside from that, it’s not my money I’m risking. Do you not understand? A two-hundred-fifty-year-old highwayman’s treasure? Not only will it make me rich even after I turn a percentage over to the government, but highwaymen are romantic. I’ll be in National Geographic, Vogue, Elle, People – all of them. And I’ll spend the next three to five years on the telly sharing my story of how the treasure changed my life.”

  Hmm. So, she did know something about popular culture in this century. Appealing to Eerika’s sense of fairness or asking her to have some compassion for the villagers, would obviously be a waste of breath. Eerika Nyland had one person in her mind, and nobody else – including Reggie – mattered to her.

  “Nothing’s going to stop you from being the Booty Queen, right?” Samantha murmured, easing forward to sit on the step just below the landing.

  “Correct.” Norway picked up the satchel again.

  “Except me.”

  Eerika snorted. “You? I take kick boxing, my dear, and you’re well, tiny.”

  Five foot four-and-a-half was not tiny. It was petite. “One time,” she said, knowing she was edging closer to trouble and deciding it was worth it, “I needed to get into a safe closed by a combination lock and a double key mechanism. The safe was on the twenty-third floor of a pretty secure office building.”

  “I don’t care what artifact retrievals you’ve made, dear.”

  “I’m not finished,” Samantha cut in, more sharply. “I went into the safe owner’s house, past his three dogs, his alarm system, and his cameras, and I took the key off his neck. While he slept. Then I climbed the outside of his office building, cut through a window, cracked his safe, and retrieved the statue I’d been sent after.”

  That last part wasn’t quite true, except that Stoney had found a buyer who wanted a particular Rodin sculpture and had paid them a million cash for it. She had retrieved it for someone, and that was what counted for this conversation.

  “And I’m supposed to be impressed?” Norway said, just a little shrilly.

  “Yeah, you should be. Firstly, there’s no way you make it down to the village before I do. Secondly, even if you did manage to grab a couple of things, I would get them back. Thirdly, if you tried to get some publicity for this, I’d see to it that you look like a liar and an idiot.” She sat forward, elbows on her knees. “I know where you live, I know where you work, and I know where you go. I’m one of those specially-trained people who’s found legit employment in the private sector. I have connections and people who owe me favors. Get it?”

  “I—”

  “And I’m only bothering to give you this speech because Reggie likes you, and he’s family. To put it bluntly, Eerika, don’t fuck with me, and I won’t ruin your life. Go back to bed and get Reggie to take you somewhere exotic and expensive, and then break up with him. And don’t ever come back to this part of Scotland. I don’t think you’re a good fit for this family.”

  “And you are a good fit? Some ex-CIA spy?”

  “Who else could keep Rick Addison safe?” Samantha stood, fluidly and in a single motion, and Eerika backed up a step. “Do we have an agreement? Or do I start pushing buttons that cost you your reputation and your job?”

  “What do you care about that bloody treasure? It’s my entire future!”

  “I care that it’s where it should be. That has nothing to do with either of us. Pitch your producer friend that series about how you hook rich guys. You could still call it Booty Queen, only it would be about your sex life.”

  “You’re a bitch,” Norway exclaimed, her hand going up to her chest again.

  “Yes, I am. But all you have to do is go back to bed and forget all your theories about some old shit buried in a village, give me back my camera, and delete any map photos still on your phone. So, for the last time. Do we have an agreement, Eerika?”

  The tall blonde stomped one foot. “You haven’t left me much choice, have you?”

  “No, I haven’t. If we have any part of this conversation again, you’ll be sewin
g dresses instead of buying them.”

  “Fine, then. You win. I do hope you’re happy.” With an obvious hesitation Eerika headed toward her up the stairs.

  Samantha snagged the satchel from her as she reached the landing and pulled the camera out of it. “I’ll take that. And the bag. It’s a good size for my shoes. Now let’s see those photos go away.”

  “The… Fine.”

  As Samantha watched, Norway opened her phone, called up photos, and deleted the ones she’d clearly taken of the map while it had been in its frame. Samantha pointed at one of the paste pearl necklace, held in a dirty gloved hand. “That one, too.”

  She followed Eerika up the stairs and waited there until she heard a door open and close down the hallway. Only then did she relax. That had been too freaking close. Whatever had made her get up, ghost or dream or flying walkie-talkies, she owed a drink and a couple of ginormous thank yous.

  As she started back to the master bedchamber the floor popped softly behind her. Samantha whipped around, ready to drop damn Eerika. Enough was enough. But the shadow that separated from one of the suits of armor was taller than Norway and wore a T-shirt over a pair of dark sweat pants. “You are definitely getting stealthier,” she whispered.

  Rick walked up to her and didn’t stop until he’d wrapped her in his arms. He felt warm and solid in the cold dark. “How did you know she was about to leave the house?”

  “My Spidey-senses started tingling.” That was about as accurate as she could be.

  She felt his breath in her hair as he lowered his head. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Again.” Shifting his grip to an arm across her shoulders, he headed them back to their bedroom.

  “You’re my guy.” It didn’t sound like enough, because it was beginning to scare her how vital he was to her, and just how far she was willing to go to protect him, and to stay in his life. “I like spring. It’s a good time for a wedding.”

  He hesitated for a bare moment before he pushed open the door with his free hand. “Good. I like spring, as well.” Rick cleared his throat. “That speech of yours was very Liam Neeson, by the way.”

  Samantha grinned. “Well, I do have a particular set of skills.” She scooted back beneath the covers. “And very cold feet. So cold you may decide this whole marriage thing isn’t worth it.”

  Rick pulled off his shirt and dropped it beside the bed. “You just saved a village for the second time in one night. I think I can tolerate your cold feet. As long as they’re literal cold feet and not the figurative ones.”

  “No, they’re literal.” As soon as he slid beneath the covers behind her, she curled up to press them against his stomach.

  “Y – Christ!” With a laughing yelp he rolled, clearly trying to escape.

  Samantha straddled him, pinning his hands beneath hers and gazing down at those Caribbean blue eyes. “Not so fast, Brit. Warm me up.”

  In a breathless second she was on her back, with him pinning her. “That I can do, cat burglar.”

  She grinned. “Meow.”

  * * *

  THE END

  Discover More By Suzanne Enoch

  Traditional Regencies

  The Black Duke’s Prize

  Angel’s Devil

  * * *

  Regency Historicals

  Lady Rogue

  Stolen Kisses

  * * *

  The Bancroft Brothers

  By Love Undone

  Taming Rafe

  * * *

  With This Ring

  Reforming a Rake

  Meet Me at Midnight

  A Matter of Scandal

  * * *

  Lessons in Love

  The Rake

  London’s Perfect Scoundrel

  England’s Perfect Hero

  * * *

  Anthologies

  One True Love (from The Further Observations of Lady Whistledown)

  A Touch of Scandal (from Lady Whistledown Strikes Back)

  * * *

  The Griffin Family

  Sin and Sensibility

  An Invitation to Sin

  Something Sinful

  Sins of a Duke

  * * *

  Contemporary Romantic Suspense

  Flirting with Danger

  Don’t Look Down

  Billionaires Prefer Blondes

  Twice the Temptation (half historical, half contemporary)

  A Touch of Minx

  Barefoot in the Dark

  * * *

  The Notorious Gentlemen

  After the Kiss

  Before the Scandal

  Always a Scoundrel

  * * *

  The Adventurers’ Club

  The Care and Taming of a Rogue

  A Lady’s Guide to Improper Behavior

  Rules of an Engagement

  * * *

  The Scandalous Brides

  A Beginner’s Guide to Rakes

  Taming an Impossible Rogue

  Rules to Catch a Devilish Duke

  The Handbook to Handling His Lordship

  * * *

  Standalone Short Stories

  Good Earl Hunting

  * * *

  The Scandalous Highlanders

  One Hot Scot (a short story)

  The Devil Wears Kilts

  Rogue with a Brogue

  Mad, Bad and Dangerous in Plaid

  Some Like it Scot

  * * *

  No Ordinary Hero

  Hero in the Highlands

  My One True Highlander

  A Devil in Scotland

  About the Author

  A lifelong lover of books, Suzanne Enoch has been writing them since she learned to read. She is the author of two well-received traditional Regencies, 24 and counting England-set Historical Romances, four contemporary Romantic Suspense novels, and a growing number of Scottish Highlands Historical Romances including the October 2016 release of HERO IN THE HIGHLANDS (Book One in the No Ordinary Hero trilogy).

  * * *

  A native and current resident of Southern California, Suzanne lives with a green parakeet named Kermit, some very chirpy finches, and a small army of Star Wars figures (including a life-size Yoda). Her books regularly appear on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists, and when she's not busily working on her next book or staging fights with action figures, she likes to read, play video games, and go to the movies with her large and supportive village.

  Website: http://www.suzanneenoch.com

  * * *

  Twitter: @SuzieEnoch

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SuzanneEnoch/