Something flared in his eyes. Without another word he reached over and turned off the light. Undressing quickly, he slipped under the covers and drew her to him, nestling her in the curve of his body.
They still didn’t talk. The silence continued for so long that Elizabeth thought he must have fallen asleep. She moved ever so slightly and his thumb grazed her breast. Desire darted through her, and she marveled that so slight a touch from him could still affect her so deeply.
Pressing herself against him, she placed her hand over his and lifted it to her breast. His body reacted instantly, and he groaned into her ear, “Are you sure about this?”
She nodded.
Letting her head fall back against his shoulder, she lifted her lips to his. He kissed her gently at first and then with growing heat as she opened her mouth and tangled her tongue with his.
He held her close as one hand moved down her stomach and slid between her legs. Elizabeth shivered. He knew just how to touch her. Soft, soft strokes that deepened as the pressure inside her began to build.
She gasped and pushed his hand away. “Not yet,” she whispered desperately.
He knew exactly what she wanted. Shifting their bodies slightly, he slid into her, rocking against her as his fingers found her again.
Their lovemaking wasn’t as fierce or as desperate as the night before, but somehow it was more profound this time. More intimate and healing.
Elizabeth wanted the moment to last forever, but she couldn’t hold on. Her body went rigid and Paul’s arms tightened around, holding her close as they climaxed together.
“I love you,” he murmured into her ear. He said it over and over, and Elizabeth thrilled to the knowledge.
After everything they’d been through, after everything she’d done to push him away, he still loved her.
She suddenly wanted to weep at all the wasted months. “I love you, too,” she whispered.
At that moment, in Paul’s arms, she felt safer than she had in a long, long time.
PAUL CAME AWAKE SLOWLY. He wasn’t sure what had roused him, but he knew instinctively something wasn’t right. He had an odd stinging sensation at the side of his neck.
He lifted his hand to the inflamed area and winced. His skin was hot to the touch and very tender. He had no idea what had happened to him. He’d been fine earlier.
He noticed something else, too. The temperature had dropped in the room. He sat up and glanced around.
The French doors were ajar, and he swore. He knew damn well he’d closed and locked them earlier.
Had Elizabeth gotten up sometime during the night and opened them?
He glanced down at her. She appeared to be sound asleep. When he saw her breath frosting, the hair at the back of his neck lifted. For the first time since all the talk about ghosts had started, Paul experienced real fear. The cold inside the room was unnatural somehow. Damp and fetid. He could almost feel the evil.
Climbing out of bed, he went over and closed the French doors. He turned the lock, then shoved a chair beneath the latch. He wasn’t sure why he bothered. If they were dealing with something supernatural…
He tried to laugh off his apprehension. This place really was getting to him.
Going into the bathroom, he closed the door and turned on the light. Tilting his head back, he glanced in the mirror. “What the hell—”
Angry red streaks radiated down the side of his neck to just beneath his chin. The wounds were raw and beaded with blood…like fresh claw marks.
His heart thudding, he grabbed a bottle of Elizabeth’s astringent and doused his neck, cursing at the sharp sting.
Something was very wrong here. Something he didn’t understand. Something he didn’t even believe in.
Look for a logical explanation, he chided himself.
Maybe Elizabeth had scratched him during their lovemaking. He remembered her nails raking down his back the night before, but the marks she’d left had been nothing like this.
Patting his neck dry, he went back into the bedroom and checked the door. It was still closed and locked, and the temperature had already warmed.
As he climbed back into bed, Elizabeth roused and rolled over. “Paul?”
“I’m still here,” he said softly. “Everything’s okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Go back to sleep.”
She closed her eyes and drifted off.
Paul propped his pillow against the headboard and settled back, prepared to spend the rest of the night with his eyes wide open.
Chapter Fourteen
Paul’s eyes flew open. He’d only meant to close them for a moment, but he must have drifted off sometime after dawn.
Squinting at the bedside clock, he swore. He’d been asleep for hours. It was almost noon, but the sky was so overcast, the gray light filtering in through the windows hadn’t awakened him.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he sat for a moment, his hand going to his neck. The marks were still there. He hadn’t dreamed them after all.
Elizabeth must have scratched him in her sleep. Or maybe he’d scratched himself. In the light of day, the supernatural explanations he’d entertained earlier seemed even more far-fetched. There was a logical reason for everything that had happened at Fernhaven. There had to be.
Even so, Paul was suddenly prodded by an urgency to get the hell out of there. He and Elizabeth should have been on the road hours ago.
And speaking of Elizabeth…where was she?
The urgency dogged him as he got up and searched the cottage. It was like a repeat of the day before, except this time she hadn’t left a note.
Dressing quickly in black slacks and a turtleneck sweater to hide the scratches, Paul headed back up to the waterfall. When he emerged from the trees this time, though, Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen.
He called her name, softly at first and then with a cold growing dread. Where was she?
That same dread drew him to the edge of the cliff. As he stood gazing down at the crashing water, Paul’s heart catapulted to his throat. Something was down there….
Oh, God…
Panic mushroomed inside him as he scrambled down the slippery rocks, clinging at times to nothing more than his fear as his feet slipped out from under him. Finally he jumped down to the wet ground, then splashed through the frigid pool at the bottom of the waterfall.
The woman lay facedown in the water.
Dear God, no!
A mind-numbing terror seized him a split second before he realized it wasn’t Elizabeth.
His heart still thudding, Paul drew the dead woman onto the bank and rolled her over. Threads of red hair clung to her face as lifeless green eyes stared up at him.
It was Nina Wilson.
Shock rolled through Paul, and with it a wave of nausea. He took a moment to steady his nerves, then he reached for her wrist to check for a pulse even though he knew she was gone. Her skin was bluish-white and cold. She’d been dead for a while, he thought.
And then he noticed something else. The open eyes and gaping mouth. Whatever she’d seen before she died had terrified her. A scream had been trapped on her face.
Shaken, Paul stared down at her wondering what had happened. The fall had frightened her, of course. She must have gotten too close to the edge and slipped.
Or been pushed.
Slowly he lifted his gaze to the top of the cliff as a dark suspicion came over him. For a moment he could have sworn someone stood at the edge gazing down at him.
The image faded quickly, and he was left with Nina’s warning ringing in his ears…
Elizabeth isn’t the person you think she is. She’s not just troubled. She’s seriously demented. She even tried to kill me this afternoon. Did she tell you that?
ELIZABETH HAD JUST finished packing when she heard Paul let himself into the cottage. “I’m in here,” she called out. A moment later he appeared in the bedroom doorway, and she glanced up in relief. “I was beginning t
o worry….” Her words trailed off when she saw his expression. “What’s wrong? Paul…your clothes are all wet. What happened?”
He came over to the bed where she stood in front of her suitcase. “Where were you this morning?”
The suspicion in his tone took her by surprise. “Frankie called. We met for coffee.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You looked so peaceful. I thought you needed some rest before we started back.”
“But we agreed to leave first thing this morning,” he said accusingly.
“We can leave now.” Elizabeth closed her suitcase. “I’m almost ready.”
But he couldn’t seem to let it go. “Why didn’t you tell me where you were going, Elizabeth? You could have at least left a note. You didn’t think I’d worry?”
“I guess I thought I’d be back before you woke up. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She came over to the side of the bed and put her hand on his arm. “What’s this all about anyway?”
He gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher. “Maybe I’m having a little trouble figuring you out. Last night you were terrified to be left alone, but this morning you had no problem going off to meet Frankie without my knowing.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I should have told you where I was going. Frankie and I still had some things to settle, and I was anxious to get it over with. As it turns out, you were right about her. She hasn’t been up front with me about some of the things she’s done at the shop. She admitted that we’ve lost money. I don’t know how bad it is yet, but she’s agreed to a full audit when we get back to Seattle.”
“So…you were with Frankie all morning?”
She gave him a puzzled look. “Paul, why all the questions? What’s got into you?”
“What’s got into me?” He turned away, putting a hand to the side of his neck. “Last night you were convinced that you’re being haunted by a man who died seventy years ago. You even thought he tried to kill you. And now today…you’re acting as if nothing happened.”
She sat down on the bed. “I’m still frightened. It terrifies me to think about what happened at the pool yesterday. But I’ve been going over and over it in my head, trying to make sense of it. Maybe Dr. Summers is right. He thinks what I’m experiencing is symptomatic of PTSD.”
Paul lifted a brow. “You’re coming to that conclusion now? Why?”
“Because ghosts don’t exist.” She drew a shaky breath. “It’s not possible for someone to come back from the dead. You said it yourself. There has to be a logical explanation for everything that’s happened.”
“Maybe I was a little hasty in my conclusion,” he muttered.
“What?”
He sat down beside her. “Elizabeth…did you go up to the waterfall earlier, before you met Frankie?”
“No, why?”
“You seem drawn to that place for some reason. I thought you might have wanted to go back up there before we left.”
“I didn’t go up there, Paul. Not this morning.”
He nodded and glanced away. “There’s something I have to tell you. It’s about Nina Wilson.”
Elizabeth’s heart skipped a bit. “What about her?”
He paused. “She’s dead, Elizabeth.”
Her hand flew to her throat. “Oh, my God. How? When?”
“I found her at the bottom of the waterfall a little while ago. She must have fallen from the cliff.”
Elizabeth gasped. “You found her?”
“I went up there looking for you.”
Was it her imagination or had the accusing note crept back into his voice? “Paul, you can’t think…”
Something flickered in his eyes.
She stared at him in shock. “You think I pushed her, don’t you?”
“Of course not,” he answered too quickly.
“It wasn’t me,” Elizabeth whispered. “I swear—”
He grabbed her hand. “I know it wasn’t you. It was probably an accident. She slipped on the wet rocks. I’m sure the police will come to the same conclusion, but in the meantime they’ve asked me to come with them to the county sheriff’s office to give a statement.”
“They’re taking you in?” Elizabeth asked fearfully.
“I’m not under arrest, if that’s what you mean. But I am considered a material witness since I’m the one who found the body. And because Nina worked for me. I’m the reason she came up here in the first place.”
He was also the one who had a motive for wanting to get rid of her, Elizabeth realized suddenly as snippets of their previous conversations came back to her.
I don’t want you worrying about Nina Wilson. I’ll take care of her.
Elizabeth’s gaze lifted to Paul’s and she started to tremble. “What are you going to tell them?”
“I guess it depends on what they ask me,” he evaded.
“Paul, if they find out that she was in love with you, that she was trying to make trouble for us…”
His gaze darkened. “You don’t need to worry about this. I’ll take care of it.”
“But I am worried. Don’t you see?” Elizabeth clutched his hand. “It’s him. Latimer. He made this happen. He’s using Nina’s death to keep us apart—”
“For God’s sake, stop talking about Roland Latimer,” Paul said harshly.
“Why? Because the police might think I’m crazy enough to kill someone?”
“Elizabeth—”
“I know how it sounds, Paul.” She brushed a strand of hair from her face with a trembling hand. “But what if it’s true?” she whispered. “What if he really is trying to keep us apart? You can’t leave me here alone. I have to come with you.”
“That’s not a good idea.” He stood abruptly. “I don’t want you talking to the police.”
“But I don’t have anything to hide,” she protested. “I didn’t kill Nina.”
“We know that, but the police may not see it that way. Look, I’ll get everything cleared up and then we’ll be on our way. Just stay inside and keep the doors locked until I get back. Let me handle this my way, Elizabeth. I don’t want you involved.”
Elizabeth rose, too. “I’m already involved. If the police find out that Nina accused me of trying to push her off that same cliff, they’ll want to talk to me. You can’t stop them.”
“They’re not going to find out,” he said flatly.
“But you can’t withhold information from the police!”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Just calm down, okay? Let me take care of this. Call Frankie to come over and stay with you until I get back.” Fishing his keys out of his pocket, he tossed them on the bed. “I’m leaving the car here with you just in case.”
“Just in case what?” Elizabeth asked, worried. “You are coming back this afternoon, right? We’re still going home today.”
“Yes, of course. We’ll hit the road as soon as I get back. I just don’t want to leave you stranded here while I’m gone.” The edge in his voice made Elizabeth shiver. He was worried, too, no matter what he said to the contrary. Why else would he insist on leaving the car if he was that certain he’d be coming back today?
But surely the police wouldn’t arrest him. They had no evidence. Did they?
He turned toward the door, but Elizabeth caught his hand. “Paul—”
He swept her into his arms then and held her close. “Try not to worry. Everything’s going to be fine. But right now I have to change out of these wet clothes. They’re waiting for me.”
She nodded and let him go, taking a few moments to collect herself before she followed him into the other bedroom. He’d already changed into a pair of jeans and now he sat shirtless on the edge of the bed as he pulled on dry socks and shoes. When he heard her at the doorway, he glanced up. “Can you grab me a shirt—”
Elizabeth gasped when she saw the marks on his neck. “Oh, my God, Paul. Who did that to you?”
His hand flew to his neck as his gaze me
t hers. Something that might have been guilt flashed in his eyes.
ELIZABETH STOOD AT THE bedroom window watching the rain that had begun to fall shortly after Paul left. He’d been gone for hours, and she’d nervously watched the time tick away as darkness had crept over the pouring sky, obliterating the last of the light until nothing could be seen beyond the terrace.
Inside the cottage all was silent, except for the steady drum on the rooftop. There was a dank smell in the air, as if the rain had somehow seeped through the windows and doors. The scent had come suddenly with the early twilight, followed by a bone-chilling cold. Thunder cracked in the distance, the roar echoing through the cottage for one split second before everything fell silent again.
Rubbing her arms briskly to alleviate the cold, Elizabeth watched the rain. She’d long since finished pack ing and now all she could do was wait. She’d tried to call the police station a number of times, but had never been able to get through to Paul. She hadn’t been able to reach Frankie either, and the feeling of isolation she’d been battling all afternoon threatened to engulf her now. And with the loneliness came fear. Elizabeth’s thoughts turned to the scratches on the side of Paul’s neck.
He didn’t know how he’d gotten them, he’d told her earlier. He’d awakened in the middle of the night to a strange stinging sensation. Somehow the marks had appeared on his skin while he’d slept.
How was that possible? Scratches didn’t just…appear. And yet the alternative was no less unthinkable.
I don’t want you worrying about Nina Wilson. I’ll take care of her.
Squeezing her eyes closed, Elizabeth forced away the image of Paul and Nina Wilson standing on that cliff. She wouldn’t think about that. She couldn’t. It was too incredible. Paul wasn’t a violent man. He would never hurt another person, no matter what.
Elizabeth believed him about the scratches because she’d seen and heard too many things herself that couldn’t be explained. But what would the police think if they saw those marks? The same thing that had crossed her mind when she’d first seen them?
The Edge of Eternity Page 16
