“Glad to know I don't make you feel like a caterpillar is crawling on your skin.”
“Me, too. I wouldn't be having this yummy dinner otherwise. You know what?” Taylor stared at him with a frown.
“What?”
“I think you pretend to be tough to scare people, but you aren't really.”
“The hell I'm not. I am capable of murdering anyone.” If it's within the bounds of reasons.
Taylor's shoulders shook from undiluted laughter. It was marvelous and catching. “God, you should see your face. Sorry. Did I hurt your feelings?”
“No. You know what?”
“Uh-oh. Are you trying to get even?”
Bors grinned. “No, babe.”
“What?”
“You laugh like an angel, you have a face and body of a goddess, and you're in trouble. Why did you run away from Jean?”
* * * *
The once yummy hamburger suddenly lost its taste. Her mouth running away with her would be her downfall someday. God, Jean told her many times she was an obnoxious, foolish and loquacious talker. A chatterbox who never stopped complaining and criticizing him. He said, too, that her mouth would lead her to trouble. Now, it seemed, Jean was right. “I shouldn't have told you about Jean.”
“Listen, when you told Dad your name, he knew who you were running away from.”
How? Through the grapevine? Good God, did Jean issue an Amber Alert on her? But Jean wasn't like that. He hated involving the authorities in his dealings. Ha! Goes to show you. You can't keep a secret when you're a politician. Ears are everywhere.
“So Judge Knight already knew why I called him?”
“He knows that Jean is after you. Believe it or not, Dad gets the feed twenty-four-seven. Some of them are false and some are slightly true. Being a judge is not easy.”
“What else does he know? And how come you know?”
“Aside from you're an escapee? Nothing. All Dad knows is that Jean is on the hunt and you are being hunted. I know because we talk. When you called, we were outside shooting the breeze.”
“Shooting the breeze. Is it your dad's habit to discuss confidential matters with you?”
“We're tight, babe. You do realize that you made an enemy of a foul beast.”
Taylor frowned. “I hope not. Others would see Jean as a beast, but ... he isn't all that. That's why I contacted your father.”
“He can only help you if you tell him everything.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“So are you going to answer my question on why you are running away from Jean?”
“Bors, you may be your father's son, but you are not him. I will talk to Judge Knight alone.”
“Until he's heard what you have to say, you're going to need someone to watch over you.”
“Oh, God! Another one.” For eight years, her constant companion was her bodyguard. The hell she'd want another one now that she was out. Super sexy hot or not, she didn't want him watching her.
“What do you mean another one?”
“A bodyguard. I'm tired of being followed and watched from sun up to sun down.”
“Jean hired a bodyguard to watch you?”
“I've said enough.”
“Taylor, I don't know how important you are to Jean, but the more I learn about you, the better Dad and I can protect you. Those who know how important you are to Jean might use you.”
“You mean find me and ask for a ransom?”
“Something like that.”
Only those who were close to Jean knew who she was. She was sure Jean pissed one or two of them off, but would they use her? Jean would never let them. She was sure of it. Taylor sighed. “I hope not. I think I want to go back to the cabin now.”
“Are you going to finish your burger?”
“No. It's too big. It hardly fits my mouth. It'll take me all night to finish this. Do you want it?”
“You betcha.”
“You can have it. Please take me back to the cabin.”
* * * *
Bors plugged in The Doors CD on the console. Jim Morrison's soft, low and haunting singing voice drowned out the silence in the truck and the sound of crunching rocks beneath his tires. Outside, nothing moved in the darkness. Even the tall trees seemed asleep.
Bors couldn't believe how quickly Taylor's mood changed. One minute she was a starving chatty woman, then she was a quiet somber one. He couldn't help but feel like a cad. He should have at least let her finish eating before he pressed her with questions about Jean. Keeping his gaze on the road, he switched his headlights to high beams.
“With the speed you're going, it'll be morning before we reach the cabin.”
He stole a glance at Taylor. A woman, alone with him in his truck, and she could hardly wait to go back to her cabin? Wow, he really ruined her mood. Or maybe he was such a bore. He hoped not. None of the male Knights were ever boring, especially around women. “I have to drive below the speed limit. In case you haven't noticed, it's too dark to see the road.”
“Fine. But we're practically crawling.”
“Wanna drive? Why don't you change the CD while you're at it?”
“You know I can't drive. But I can change the music?”
“Yes.” Taylor made a move to press the eject button, but he reached out and caught her hand in his. “Sike! Nobody touches anything on my dashboard.”
Taylor pulled her hand from his grip. “Are you always like this?”
“Like what?”
“Frivolous airhead.”
“Those two words are the same.”
“Whatever.”
Bors met Taylor's scowl with a grin. He'd rather see her like this than with a sad face. Her mood didn't matter to him, he told himself. It was simply that she talked more when in a pissy mood, and he wanted her talking. “Don't you like Jim?”
“Hard to like someone I don't even know.”
“What? Everybody knows Jim Morrison. Man, Light My Fire? Baby, that's classic. Haven't you heard him sing until now?”
“Have you heard Dawn by Jean-Yves Thibaudet? No? Well not everybody loves Jean-Yves.”
“Wait, you have no case, Taylor. Jim is immortal, a God. One of the best singers, poets, artists who ever lived. Your Tibet is unheard of.” He changed his gear to first as he turned around the bend. A quiet night like this when animals were in abundance was as dangerous as the freeway during rush hour.
“Thibaudet. He composed the soundtrack for Pride and Prejudice.”
“Egad. How about Marcy Playground? Sex and Candy singer.”
“Never heard of him. Johann Sebastian Bach?”
“Of course I know him. We're hella tight, baby. In fact, we had lunch the other day.”
Taylor punched Bors on the arm.
“Hey, I'm driving!”
“You're not nice. I'm not talking to you. Just watch the road.”
Bors laughed. “You sound like my sister. Act like one, too.”
“Is she nosey like you?”
“Worse. She reads romance books with naked men on the cover.”
“Me, too. Oh, I bet I'll like her. Anyone who appreciates romance with a happy ever after—”
“You like looking at naked men, too?” Bors took a quick look at Taylor and wagged his eyebrows. “Good to know.”
She scowled. “I meant I like reading romance books. Most of them have hot guys on the cover. Not nude, mind you, but sensual and it provokes minds to think, to imagine.”
“How it's like to be touched and hugged and fu—”
“Don't you dare say that word!”
“What's wrong with the word fussed over?”
Taylor scoffed, her arms crossed on her chest. “Bors, I know where your mind is heading. So don't lie. Anyway, where are we?”
“Romance and hot covers.” Dang, I'm actually discussing romance novels without feeling the urge to puke. Something's wrong here.
“Oh, yeah. I particularly love the historical genre. There is som
ething about glittering ballrooms, gowns, and men in their crisp coats and cravats that fascinate me.”
“Cravats. Good God. I assume the heroes are British noblemen.”
“Most of the historical romances I've read are set in England.”
“Have you heard those men talk? They all sound like they have plugged up noses. And they're all stodgy.”
Taylor pinched his arm this time. “You are so prejudice.”
“Oww!” He rubbed his arm where Taylor pinched him. “You're a crab.”
“I'll do more than pinch you if you say one more bad word about the heroes in my novels.”
“My sister and Julie are both romance books addicts. Julie is a published author. You must have read her books.”
A soft gasp escaped Taylor's mouth before pushing his shoulder. “Your sister-in-law? The one I met earlier? You're kidding, right?”
“No.” Bors turned right around the bend in the road slowly, then sped up a bit as soon as they passed it.
“What's her pen name or does she use one?”
“I thought you don't want to talk to me?”
She punched him again. “You're a troll. Fine don't tell me. I know you will anyway.”
Bors laughed. “What makes you say that?”
“Because you like talking to me.”
“Wow. You are a brat. Taylor, I'm not taking you back to the cabin.”
“What? You're kidnapping me?”
“I wouldn't call it that. But I think it would be best if you stay someplace else.”
“You think someone was outside my cabin. Not raccoons.”
“Sorry, babe.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“To my house.”
“But—”
Something crossed the dirt road. Taylor screamed. Bors stopped the truck abruptly, but not before he braced his arm across her chest.
“Oh, God! What was that?”
“A deer.”
“Not a bear, cougar, a big cat? Big Foot?”
“Saw it.”
“Big Foot?”
“No, sweets. I'm positive it was a deer. Are you okay?”
“I think the deer isn't. I felt the truck hit something solid. Do you think the poor thing is okay?”
“Are-you-okay?” His hand moved to cup her chin to turn her head, forcing her to look at him. “Taylor?”
“Yes. I'm fine. Did we kill it?”
“I hit it hard.”
* * * *
What was that supposed to mean? That they killed the deer? Taylor watched Bors get out of the truck, then walk around toward the hood. She could see his face. He didn't look happy and the way his lips were moving, she could tell he was cursing. Not good. She wanted to know.
“Is it okay?” Before she thought better of it, she got out of the truck.
“Baby, stay in the truck.”
“I want to see.” Not minding her sore foot, she walked on the dirt road, stood beside Bors and looked down at the deer. Its head twisted in an odd angle and it looked painful. Blood oozed from its mouth and nose. “Oh, my God.” She couldn't stop staring. Suddenly, an image of her mother formed in her head. Bloody with a broken neck, her eyes red from the broken veins, her teeth shattered, and the blood...
“Come on. Let's get you back in the truck. You don't have to see this.”
A loud sob escaped her mouth. The dead deer became blurry as her tears gathered in her eyes. “Can we do something? Maybe take her to the clinic. Maybe we can save her. Maybe—”
Bors gathered her in his arms, running his hand along the back of her head gently. “Shhh ... she's gone. I have to move her, though.”
Why did she look? Her curiosity, a compulsion to know things, had made her open the folder that contained pictures of her mother taken after she landed on the ground. The gruesome images haunted her for years. Finally, those images eventually began to fade. But now, they were back, all because she had to look at the dead deer. Taylor shivered. She shut her eyes tight to block the pictures in her head.
“Come on. We can't stand here all night. You're already shivering.”
Taylor nodded. He was right. She sniffed and looked up at Bors. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“If I didn't distract you, you could have avoided the deer.”
“It wasn't your fault. She jumped in front of the truck.”
“But—” Whatever she was about to say was cut off by a loud bleating.
“Shit. There's a fawn.”
Sure enough, a small fawn walked toward the mama deer. Killing a mama deer was horrible enough, but hearing a fawn bleating for his mother broke Taylor's heart. “What are we going to do? We can't leave the baby here.”
“It'll survive, Taylor. They live here.”
“We have to take the baby with us.”
“No. Babe, if that's a puppy, I would. But it's a deer. That thing knows where to go.”
“We can't leave the fawn alone. It's really sad out here.”
Bors stared at her with a scowl.
Taylor smiled.
[Back to Table of Contents]
* * *
Chapter Seven
Those damn tears. One look at those glistening tears and he immediately capitulated. Now, he suffered.
Through the rearview mirror, Bors found himself staring at the brown-eyed fawn. His eyes were watery from sneezing, but it was the fawn's bleating that was beginning to rub on his nerves. He told Taylor that the fawn could be carrying some kind of a disease or ticks. But she wouldn't be deterred. She kept fixing the rags that he placed on the back seat, urging the fawn to use it, but the animal just kept moving away from it. After the third attempt, Taylor quit trying.
One thing he learned from the short time of meeting Taylor was that she was one stubborn woman. She would try everything to get what she wanted, including pleading and wrapping her arms around his waist until he acquiesced to taking the fawn to the cabin. With her arms around him and chest pressed just below his, he thought about standing his ground, but when he saw her tears, well, he crumbled. Damn tears. So freaking powerful.
The fawn cried again. He sneezed. He didn't like staying in the truck, or inside the house. It would be like having an infant walking around without his diapers on. The best place for the little thing was outside, but he didn't want to face Taylor's frown. No, he wasn't afraid of her, he thought. It was the opposite. Whenever the woman frowned, he had the insane need to pull her close, kiss her frown away and hug her tight.
Bors sneezed again. Damn fawn. He wondered who was more miserable. The fawn or him. He ran his fingers through his hair. He was born and raised on this island, but never in his life had he come this close to a fawn. But it was common knowledge—you don't go near the animals. You leave them alone. What an itty-bitty thing.
“Are you crying?”
“No, babe. It's just my eyes are itchy.” He covered his nose with his sleeve in time before he let out a loud sneeze.
“Bless you.”
“Thanks.”
“What should we feed him? You shouldn't have eaten my left over burger.”
“I think we should let him out. He's crying because he wants to go home.”
The fawn bobbed its head.
“See? He agrees with me.”
“How did you know that?”
“Wouldn't you be crying, too, if you were in that little thing's hooves? Babe, we can't keep him inside. I doubt he's potty trained.”
“Oh, I didn't think about that. How about if we put him in the bathroom as soon as we get to your house?”
“Good idea. That way that thing could flush the toilet and wash his hooves.”
“Were you born sarcastic?”
“Realist. He's a fawn. Have you seen a pet fawn?”
“No.”
“Me either. I can tie him outside and he can wait on the porch until—”
“That's barbaric. That fawn is not used to wearing a leash. He'd be miserable.”
/>
Bors wanted to tell her that the fawn was probably more terrified being confined inside the house compared to being tied outside, but thought better not to say it. “PAWS will probably be at my place in an hour.” In the meantime, he would just have to endure his allergies.
“Thank you.”
“You're short of choking me to make me agree with you.”
“I can't believe you're able to find someone to come and get Fawn this late.”
Lord, she named the animal, too. Bors sighed. “PAWS rep is happy to help us.” He had to use the Knight name to get someone to come for the fawn at this time of night, and he hated doing that. He rubbed his eyes. Damn allergies.
“Thank you for dinner.”
“You're welcome.” He sneezed so loud it was a wonder the truck's roof didn't come off.
Taylor rummaged in her bag. “Here.” She handed him a tissue. “I hope you're not getting sick. I think a runny nose is one of the many symptoms of Swine Flu. If you start coughing, feeling lethargic and feverish, losing your appetite and begin living in the bathroom, you better see a doctor.”
“I'll try to remember that.”
He noticed she tucked her legs again. A habit, he thought. “You rented a nice cabin,” he commented to change the topic.
“I know.”
Bors glanced at Taylor trying to get comfortable. He doubted that she was aware how sultry she looked sitting on his passenger's seat. “It is a beautiful cabin and the most expensive rental place on the island.”
“I made the reservation before my bank account froze. I can't afford the place.” Taylor looked down, her hands flat on her thighs. “I shouldn't ask you this. We just met, but you already know my circumstances. Do you know a cheaper place where I can stay?”
“My offer earlier about my parent's extra room still stands.”
“I hate to impose. And if what you said earlier about people wanting to use me against Jean is true, I wouldn't want them to come for me when your parents are around.”
“All right. You can stay at my house. I stay in my condo in Seattle most of the time. You use my house here. You'll have everything you need in there.”
Taylor chewed her lower lip. “Are you sure?”
Heck, the woman who held the key to Pandora's box staying in his house? He'd never been so sure in his life. “Yes.”
Irresistible Knight Page 10
