by Susan Conley
“Beth, do you believe in past lives? That people have lived in other places, other times.”
She took her hands off her face and gave him an exasperated look. Clearly she’d not been expecting that. “I’ve never thought about it. Could we just focus on this issue please?”
Damn, there was no easy way to say this. “I’m trying. It wasn’t the questions I asked at your door that gave me insight into your future.”
She had her arms crossed under her breasts now. “No kidding.”
“But I did see you in a vision from another place. I saw you in anguish. In prison, for a crime you didn’t commit. It’s related to that satchel of money you found, but I don’t know how it comes about. The reason I saw it is because we are connected, bonded by love, for as long as a millennium, over many lives. It’s difficult to explain how I know it to be true — ”
He watched the whites of her eyes grow, and then she burst out a spray of laughter that had him fairly annoyed by the time she stopped.
She finally composed herself enough to ask, “That is the best line I’ve heard in ages. A thousand–year love?”
He had stuffed their toiletries into a plastic bag while she finished her hysterics.
“We need to go now,” he snapped. “I didn’t come all this way to be laughed at. You’re worse than a child, and if you accuse me of deceit again, I’ll have you over my knee and teaching you a lesson.”
She rose off the bed to give him a full view of the opposition. “Just you try.”
His mouth twitched. By all that was holy, forgive him his carnal lust; he wanted her sweet bum at his mercy. Bloody hell, it wasn’t easy being human.
“Sorry, lass, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Softening his tone took no little effort. “It’s not so bad, is it? Being here with me, that is?”
A faint smile crept back on to her face. “No, a little weird, but not bad. Listen, I don’t believe you’re a threat, or I wouldn’t be here with you. I’m going to tell you a gut truth, Calum. The thought of handling this on my own worries me. You have sincere eyes, and I trust what I see. Don’t take that for anything more than it is. I will stay with you until I talk to Matthew and get some legal advice. I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t feel threatened by you, or if it’s the exact opposite — I’m not going back over your shoulder.”
She wasn’t wrong. He would not allow her to walk away.
“Even though you’ve not been straightforward with me, I will share that I found a business card in the backpack from a real estate office in Quebec City. I think we should check that out.”
“Why did you not mention this before? Give it to me, lass.”
Her fists dug into her luscious hips. “Do not order me around, Calum. If what you meant to say was: ‘May I please have a look at the card to be of some assistance?’ then sorry, you’re out of luck. I remember the name, but I don’t have the card.”
The farther they travelled from Ashbury the better, as far as he was concerned. “We will go to Quebec City.” He opened the door and let her pass in front of him. She might feel the beginnings of some trust, but it wasn’t enough, and until she truly understood the gravity of her situation he would not leave her side. Before that could happen, his Bethia needed to remember the bond between them — the wanting that never ceased. Then she would trust him enough to accept the truth of why and how he had come to her.
The twelfth–century body he inhabited seemed to enhance his sense of possession, but he didn’t deny the inclination. She belonged to him, not the lawyer. His to protect. He would break through whatever iron shielded those memories. Earlier on, she had come close to responding. Next time, he would push her further. And Finn? That immortal was moved by passionate humans. Make me potent, Finn, and I’ll give you passion to keep you for another thousand years.
• • •
Once again, Beth drove east, and once again the tingling awareness of excitement and danger compelled her. She wasn’t frightened of the commanding warrior. Annoyed by his controlling tendencies? Yes, but not frightened.
Why? He rendered her will to putty with one smoldering glance, and that should alarm a woman who felt empowered by self–restraint, but contrarily, it enticed her. Was it just her or were all females susceptible to the man?
Other women drawn to Calum? That thought plunged through her stomach like a sick roller coaster ride.
She slipped her eyes from the road and glanced at him. “Where is this woman you were referring to earlier? Is she waiting for you?”
“Waiting? No, she’s not waiting. I lost her.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s no mind. I’ll find her again in the next life.”
“That’s very romantic, Calum.”
He turned to face her and spoke softly. She would not look in those eyes. “I’ve been told I have a romantic spirit.”
“Really, so what did you like about this woman?”
“I’m glad you asked, lass. I’m sorry to say she was not a very organized sort, like you are striving to be. I remember her most affectionately with bits of grass in her hair or dirt smudged on her forehead. She had laughing eyes and a raw need to come to the aid of others, but she didn’t live a disciplined life. She’d often get so absorbed in her meanderings, I’d have to head to the hills to fetch her home so she’d not be lost in the dark.”
“That would drive Matthew crazy. We’re dinner–at–six kind of people.”
“Are you then?”
She’d tried to be. Wasn’t a structured lifestyle a sensible way to live? “Didn’t it worry you, not knowing where she was?”
“Ah, no. She was never so far. I wished to keep her safe, yes, but I’d no wish to stifle her spirit — it kept me wanting her.”
“Oh.” A beautiful sentiment. Perhaps Calum wasn’t the control freak she thought. Beth made the mistake of looking at him then and nearly drove them off the road. Maybe they should stop for awhile and she could just gaze into those eyes.
Oh, stop. So he likes spontaneous women with no direction. Not unlike the person she used to be with undesirable characteristics she’d wisely left behind.
In a few hours, she would talk to Matthew and explain where the money from the backpack had gone. Janine Miller could not be put at risk. Matthew could advise how best to approach the police. Then she’d be safe to turn around and head home, back to reality; goodbye, fantasy warrior.
She kept her eyes on the road, trying not to be distracted by the man beside her. Whatever their relationship had been, it was apparent he had loved his woman.
“You’re a rare man, Calum. I hope you do find her again.”
A strand of her hair slipped forward into her vision. Before she could move, he leaned over and brushed it back off her face. The gentleness of the gesture was such a surprise she fought back the urge to sigh.
“Ah, to be sure I will,” he said.
• • •
Matthew McGill listened to his phone message and cursed into a flowering hibiscus. “I’ll meet you back at the car. I have to make a call.” He walked away from the man who had just shown him the island — no official realtor — but the island was paradise and private beachfront property was hard to come by. Matthew had given him cash to hold it and bypass the alien license he would need to purchase land.
He dialed Bruce in Canada and walked down an open stretch of pitted road in the opposite direction from the small harbour. Matthew had received two urgent messages: one from Bruce and one from Beth. Between them he’d caught the grisly details of the last day.
“Bruce, what the hell is going on?”
“Beth found the backpack and now she’s disappeared.”
“Explain to me again why you buried the bag in Beth’s yard?”
“I told you in my message. My dad h
ad a stroke and I had to leave town. Beth lives close to me. You didn’t answer your phone. You needed the money, so I hid it at Beth’s for you to retrieve.”
“Then you tore up her house and tied her to a chair? Are you crazy?”
“I had no choice. She came home unexpectedly and turned hysterical. You said she wouldn’t be home until dinner. I found the backpack, but it was empty. What was I supposed to do?”
“You should have waited for me. I would have handled Beth.” Just like he handled everything. When Beth told him she’d found something buried in her backyard, he’d not given it any thought until he got the message from Bruce. Brilliant idea to bury the backpack, just fucking brilliant.
“Don’t kid yourself,” Bruce said. “Beth isn’t the loyal girlfriend you think.”
“What do you mean by that?” Beth worshipped him. Matthew rubbed his temple as pain began to throb behind one eye.
“Do you know where she is?” Bruce asked.
“Yes I do. You scared her, so she left town. We didn’t talk. I just picked up her message a few minutes ago.”
“She found the flash drive, but she won’t admit it. Instead she told me she gave the money to the police, but that makes no sense. She had the backpack.”
With the sun compounding his headache, Matthew slipped under a palm tree. What was virtuous Beth thinking?
Bruce’s voice sounded over the squawk of a sea bird. “She’s lying to you and not just about the money. A guy was here with her and just before the asshole broke my nose, he said I shouldn’t threaten his woman. They’ve got the flash drive and plan to blackmail us.”
Betrayed by Beth? He’d promised himself never again. Matthew’s headache began to jackhammer.
“You better do something and fast,” Bruce demanded.
He’d underestimated Beth. She’d played him for a fool. How dare she feign loyalty, honesty, chastity for God’s sake? She’d forced him to use other women, while all along she had a boyfriend?
“I don’t know how she saw me bury that bag in the woods,” Bruce said.
“Yeah,” Matthew forced the word up over the anger in his throat. She’d loved living the life of the wanderer. He’d pressed her to invest the last of that lottery money into the house in Belize. Guess stability and security weren’t good enough for her. How could she be so similar to his brother and he’d not seen it?
“She’s in Quebec,” Matthew said, mastering the tone of his voice. “She wants me to arrange legal counsel for her since the police are questioning the Meals on the Move staff. You followed through with the jewelry?”
“Yes, it’s done. Hold on a sec. She’s in Quebec?”
“So she said.”
“Fuck. She’s there because of Chantal Desjardins. Her business card was in the backpack.”
Matthew rubbed his temple and shoved his hand through his hair. “Beth won’t get anything from Chantal; she’s on holiday.”
“We gotta get the flash drive back. Every file is on it.”
During the last couple days Matthew had reconsidered using Beth and making his feigned proposal genuine. For the ultimate good of the people he planned to help — no, to rescue — he had to use Meals on the Move. Did Beth have to be a casualty?
Apparently she did. Conflict erased. Beth would be destroyed.
“We’re getting the flash drive back.” Matthew rubbed his jaw to ease the tension. “I’m going to fly into Montreal. Meet me, and we’ll check out the hotel where they stayed.”
“I’ll be there. I’m going to take off now.”
Matthew shut his phone. Some kid had designed a seashell dinosaur in front of a house by the road. He booted the tyrannosaurus head into a stone wall and crushed the body under his heel. Un–fucking–believable.
He’d put everything on the line to bring the hospice from a vision to fruition. Beth had never been sincere in her support, but had been screwing some guy behind his back. Then, she had the audacity to expect him to cover her ass legally? What did she take him for?
He’d give her legal assistance. He’d deliver her to the jail cell himself, and then he would recover from his girlfriend’s shocking criminal activities in a tropical paradise, while being revered for his philanthropic activities and gaining the respect he damn well deserved.
Chapter 12
Games People Play
Beth and Calum stopped around noon at a gas station/food place. As she ran off to use the phone and restroom, she told Calum to buy her a Big Mac. A big son of whom, he’d nearly asked.
Drawn by the aroma of cooked meat, Calum watched as people queued up behind the counter and requested food named after pictures overhead. Clear enough.
When it was his turn, he slipped a few bills from his pocket and spoke to a pimply faced lad. “I’ll have three of the Big Macs, if you please.”
“Do you want the meal?”
What did Pimple Face think he planned to do with a Big Mac other than eat it? “Don’t think to give me something other than a meal.”
Pimple Face’s tongue popped his cheek out as he seemed to contemplate the simple request. “Yeah, so you want fries with that?”
His stomach growled. What kind of unclear question was that? The lad was a half–wit. “Fry them if you will, just do it before sunset.”
“You wanna drink? McFlurry? Milkshake?”
“No.” He scanned the eatery for Beth as his impatience began to simmer.
“Apple pie? Parfait? Sundae?”
With the counter clenched in his fists, so he wouldn’t poke the lad on the forehead to remind him where brains should reside, he spoke in a soft but dangerous tone. “Lad, you’ll be stopping your questions now and getting me food.”
The lad swallowed. “Yes I will, sir. Three Big Macs coming up.”
Ah, better.
With the food finally in hand and Beth now using the phone, he went outside to a wooden table in the back. Swinging a leg over the seat, he froze in mid–swing when he felt that unusual wind unfurl its way under his skin. Finn.
“Ah, perfect timing.” Calum backed off the bench. “Just the immortal I wished to see.”
Finn’s iridescent eyes sparkled with mischief. “Is that so? And what is it you might be wishing from me?” Finn was the picture of innocence.
“I think you know well enough. Are you going to have me begging, Finn? ‘Cause I’m about desperate enough for it.”
Finn’s smile became a grimace. “No. I hate pleading. It ends up in a whiny tone that offends my ears.”
“Good.” It wouldn’t hurt to butter up the elfish creature a bit. “Finn, your compassionate reputation for granting human desires far surpasses any other immortal I’ve heard tell of. Did you know you’re aptly renowned across space and time for your grand benevolence?”
The eyes were sparkling again.
“I am humbled by the great gift you graciously bestowed upon me,” Calum continued, “and do foremost endeavour to keep Bethia safe from harm, with my life if necessary. That said, if you would find it in your unrivalled heart to restore my potency I’d be forever grateful and would certainly find a way to repay the deed.”
Finn’s flowing white hair swayed against his green coat despite the breezeless day. “I don’t want for much. Except — ”
“Yes?”
“Doldrums — they tire me. I need a diversion. This is what I will do, warrior. I propose a challenge — a game, so to speak.”
Here we go.
“I will grant your desire when you have performed three tasks.” He flashed three fingers in emphasis as if Calum couldn’t count.
He groaned, not trusting that a verbal expression of his true feelings on Finn’s game would prove useful.
“Are you with me, warrior?”
His response was a
seasick–like grimace. Finn took the gesture as affirmation and swept up onto the table to sit with his boots on the bench. “The first task must be completed by the end of this day. Your true love has allowed her passion to lie comatose. She hides behind a belief that unleashed passion will be her ruin and thinks it stems from this motherless life. But we know better, don’t we? Deep down, Bethia knows that without you, she’ll never quench her soul’s desire in this life, so she doesn’t try. Yours is the one soul that will rouse Bethia. You must procure a kiss from your mate. Use your charm, but she must be the instigator, and it must be a substantial, fully infused, fevered kind of kiss, or it doesn’t count.”
Calum couldn’t help but feel pleased by this sensible observation — no mention of eternal bonds on the verge of destruction. He scanned the buildings for Beth and then waited for a woman to pass by. “Why does this have to be a game?”
Finn’s smile was no joke. “Because I am all powerful, and I like games.”
“All powerful,” Calum grumbled. “It’s too soon. We’ve only been together a day, and despite your observation, she’s become attached to another man. Perhaps you could jog her memory a bit in my direction.”
“Perhaps … but no.”
“Damn it, Finn, you taunt me with a game like I’m a lad of six.”
“You blame me?” Gold fire sparked in his eyes. He disappeared then suddenly reappeared on the other side of Calum. “You’re the one that called me forth, you beg favour after favour and still you ask that another be granted.”
The last thing Calum needed was to raise Finn’s hackles. He wasn’t so dimwitted as to provoke this being’s anger — he’d heard stories. “I apologize. You’ve been very generous.”
The gold fire dispelled. “Yes, I have.” Finn’s face lit suddenly. “I will give you one advantage.”
Calum’s shirt disappeared in a puff. “What the bloody … Give me my shirt back!” His fists clenched at his sides.
“Aren’t you supposed be quelling your temper? Don’t forget, I’ll be keeping a watch on you, warrior. Do you not think your true love will be hard pressed to resist you now?” And with that said Finn disappeared in that blasted wind and silver laughter.
