by Susan Conley
A strip of paper caught his sight as it fluttered out of the air into his lap. He spared a glance at Beth, hoping she’d not seen it. No luck.
“Calum?” She moaned. “Where did that come from?”
He shrugged. “Must have been in the newspaper?”
“But, it fell from … never mind. I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m saving my breakdown for later.”
He read the ad. “A secluded, one–bedroom mountain retreat, rustic but quaint.” One bedroom. Damn, he was tired of sleeping on chairs. As he scanned the print, his eyes fell on the last line. Leave your troubles behind and safeguard your eternal bond. He folded the paper in half and slipped it into his pocket.
“I guess I’ll suspend my disbelief for the moment,” Beth said. “I know I didn’t fall down a rabbit hole, nor into a Mary Poppins painting, but someone is helping us, and whether it’s our fairy godmother or not, I say let’s go for the rustic but quaint retreat.”
“‘Tis no fairy godmother, and rustic but quaint could just as easily translate to wolf’s den but warm and furry. I agree with you though. It’ll fare safer than sitting here in the open. We’ve got directions, so we’ll retreat there.”
Chapter 17
Bubble Beth
“Stop the van,” Matthew demanded.
Bruce took his gaze off the road and peered at him through tired, blackened eyes. “Why?”
“Beth?” Matthew unbuckled his seat belt. “Beth’s not back there.” He pushed up out of the passenger seat and gripped the armrest as the van veered to the side of the road.
“How can she not be there?” Bruce asked.
Matthew cursed as he climbed between the seats of the van to the rear. He scanned the back seats from top to bottom as if a grown woman might have slid under the seat.
“How did she get out? You forgot to activate the childproof locks.” He added “idiot” under his breath.
“Not a chance,” Bruce shot back. “The lock must be broken.”
Matthew swung around and tried the door. It didn’t budge — locked. He collapsed into the seat and scowled. How did Beth escape a locked vehicle?
“You didn’t shut the door tight,” Bruce said and added, “idiot.”
Matthew had no idea how Beth had escaped, but he clearly remembered the door sliding into place securely behind her. If anyone was to blame, it wasn’t him.
“I’m turning around,” Bruce said. “We’re going back to the hotel.”
Across the street by the hotel, a man had shouted Beth’s name — the jackass she’d run with, no doubt. There’d been a despairing look on the guy’s face as he’d bolted into traffic. The anguished look had surprised Matthew. He quickly dismissed the possibility that the longhaired ass was despondent over losing Beth. Lose the girl, lose the money, which led him to speculate she hadn’t divulged the flash drive’s hiding place to the mountain man.
“Suppose Beth didn’t bring the flash drive with her,” said Matthew.
“If she turned it into the police like she said then we’re fucked.”
“Not the police. If she were innocent, she wouldn’t have run, but what if Beth doesn’t trust the mountain man? Or …”
“What mountain man?”
Matthew saw possible scenarios fitting into the flowchart he pictured in his mind. How many times had Beth praised his ability to commit and achieve each carefully planned goal he set? Her need for those characteristics in a man was deeply rooted in her and he fulfilled that need — perfectly. Had she truly been lured away from him? The more he considered it, the more unreasonable it seemed. But the fact remained — she’d been intimate with another man. The sound of his father’s taunt rang in his ears. Played for a fool again. You’ll never learn to use your enemies.
He turned his attention to Bruce. “The guy who broke your nose. I saw him chasing after Beth back at the hotel. She could be using him for his muscle because she’s afraid of you.”
A look of offence further darkened Bruce’s face. “That coward came up behind me. I wouldn’t count on his muscle in a fair fight.”
“He broke your nose from behind? Get a handle on your ego. My guess is the mountain man is just for hire.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the mountain man. Beth will try to get in touch with your realtor friend. Have you talked to her?”
Matthew got up from the back seat. “Chantal? No. Left her a message. Open the door. I’m going to drive.”
“Suit yourself.” Bruce unlocked the doors and got out of the van.
When they’d switched places, Matthew dropped the stick shift into gear. “We’re heading back to the hotel and talk to the concierge. Maybe he overheard something this morning that will lead us to Beth.” As he drove, he comprised a list in his head of all the reasons Beth’s mountain man didn’t measure up.
• • •
The rustic cabin retreat was impressive. Roughly hewed logs cut from the surrounding wilderness had turned out a small two–storey A–frame with a snug deck off the upper level. High in the mountains, past the touristy ski resorts, the view from the deck was spectacular. Calum stood there off the loft gazing through a frame of sugar maple and yellow birch into an azure lake folded in between softly rounded mountains rolling out into the mist.
The view was a reminder of young love, long ago when he and Bethia lived in the Highlands and he had fallen hopelessly in love with her great capacity to care for others. The memory of that life brought a stab of fear to his heart, and then it was gone. For the first time, he saw how that fear had carried forward into the lives that followed, affecting his actions although he’d never understood where the emotion originated. Her habit of putting the welfare of others before her own safety was an old one and would scare any man into becoming what she considered an overprotective buffoon. He looked forward to discussing that life with Beth, but before that could happen, she needed to remember who he was. ‘Twas his good fortune they were now in the perfect environment to stimulate her memory.
“There’s a fireplace and a Jacuzzi,” Beth called from the bedroom. “This is so much better than a hotel room, and before I think I’m in heaven, are you sure we can stay here?”
A Jacuzzi? Had she used that term to describe the bath at the hotel?
“I’m definitely taking a long, hot bath before this day is over,” she said.
“Ah then, ‘tis settled, we’re staying. But I want you to understand something. Come here, Beth.” She had avoided this conversation since they’d escaped Quebec City.
She joined Calum on the deck, coming to stand beside him at the railing. He leaned forward and pushed her sunglasses up off her face to see her eyes clearly.
“You’re taking all this remarkably well,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed. She gave him a perturbed look and pulled the glasses back down. “No. I’m not. I feel as if the ground has broken up under me. My insides are shattered, and I can’t tell what’s real anymore.”
Calum gathered her in his arms and held her until he felt the release of a deep breath, then she pulled back.
“Nothing is what I thought it was — Matthew, you, the laws of physics.”
“Aye, fair enough. Let’s start with Matthew.”
Her jaw clenched as she looked out over the mountain before speaking. “Matthew plans his life like a one–way street, no detours, no turning back. His mother died of cancer, and I thought his plan to build a hospice for cancer patients on a tropical island was a sweet, unselfish dream since he didn’t have the money for that kind of venture. Then I began to see another side of Matthew. He’s driven by a need to prove himself to his father, not to help cancer patients, and now I don’t think he cares how he achieves that — legally or illegally. Calum, we have to tell the police what we know about Matthew and Bruce. It’s not nice being accu
sed of jewel theft.”
“You will not be charged with any breach of the law. I promise you that. We’ll uncover the truth now that we know Matthew is involved, but we’ll not include the police yet. I don’t want them holding you until they find evidence to the contrary.”
She nodded, her gaze far away.
“Do you want to talk about me now?”
Beth turned from the landscape and settled her sunglasses–covered gaze on him. “Tell me you are not an alien reptile under that skin.”
“Get a knife. You can cut me open — flesh and blood — I swear it.”
“You’d let me do it, wouldn’t you?”
“‘Tis true, but I wouldn’t like it.”
Her laugh was short. “So what are you?”
“I may be a lot of things, but I am not a what. I think I’ve made that perfectly clear — all man, Beth — the flesh–and–hot–blooded kind.”
“You may be a lot of things, but if you think perfectly clear is one of them, think again. I’ve been sucked through space today and received a floating ad for mountain retreats. Nothing about you, Calum, is perfectly clear.”
“Fine, I’ll concede you that.” But there was no way she was going to think of him as anything but pure male. He was beginning to get distracted by the vision of her in that bubble bath.
He forced his thoughts back to the present. “I am as human as you. Instead of starting this life as a babe, I’ve come in full grown with memories of my past lives, many I’ve lived with you. We have a special bond, lass, and believe me I wish you felt it like I do, because it’s sheer one–sided torture.”
She had the nerve not to look sympathetic at that.
He told Beth about the vision of her future and how he sought Finn and came to her aid. “It was Finn who shifted you out of Matthew’s car today.”
“If Finn is so powerful, why doesn’t he just set the record straight, so I don’t perish in jail?”
“He doesn’t work that way. Finn is inspired by human passion — that’s what satisfies him. He sent me here because when you and I come together, we have a reputation for generating extraordinary passion.”
Her mouth reverted back to that sardonic smile. “Right. You’re just saying that to serve your own self, Mister–I’m–a–Man–All–Flesh–and–Hot–Blood. I know where your mind is every minute.”
Calum laughed. “Proven, lass, you know me well. But ‘tis the truth about Finn.”
“This is so bizarre. I honestly wouldn’t believe any of it if I hadn’t been sucked out of that car today. So you’re human, and I never thought I’d have a reason to qualify that, but who is Finn?
“Finn is Elfin.”
A soft snort escaped her. “You’ve got to be kidding. You expect me to believe Finn is an elf?”
“Yes, lass, but don’t think of him as a wee leprechaun–like being. To mortals, he appears as a full–grown man.”
“I see. I suppose he works for Santa in the off season.”
“Very funny. Children don’t inspire Finn. Like I said, ‘tis passion that appeals to him.”
“And I thought the Matthew revelation was giving me an upset stomach. An X–rated elf is a bit much.”
Too much, he thought. No wonder her world felt shattered. Enough information for now. A reprieve from the bizarre would better settle her insides. “I’m needing to feel the earth beneath my feet,” he said. “Would you care to walk the hills with me?”
She looked out over the Appalachians. “Do you think it’s safe?”
“Safe and sure since Finn delivered us here.” It served the immortal to keep them protected and together.
“Okay, if you say so. But don’t think I won’t hold you to your promise of protection — there may be bears in those woods.”
• • •
It had been a long time since Beth had enjoyed herself to such extent without spending a cent. A latent part of her unfurled and bloomed in the mountains. It started quietly, with not a sound but that of the forest. Breathing the ripe, fecund air, the feeling built like heat inside her as she warmed in the sun, a peaceful kind of alive that expanded until she was running and laughing and teasing Calum.
They returned to the cabin late. With a fire burning in the hearth, he helped cook a stir–fry from groceries they had picked up earlier that day. In the open loft upstairs was a Jacuzzi bath and one king–sized bed — the only bed. Beth and Calum had a great afternoon — easy, relaxed, and comfortable — but she didn’t want him reading more into it.
She put the last fork in the dish rack for him to dry. “For what started as a disaster, this day has wrapped up pretty nice.” She pulled the plug. “I saw some bubble bath upstairs. I’m going to go and sink into that tub. Since there’s no door to lock up there, I’ll ask you to please stay put and enjoy the fire down here.” The water spiraled down the drain. “I’ll say goodnight before turning in.”
Well, that was pretty clear. She ran up the stairs before he could make any lewd suggestions.
Two minutes later she stood in front of the tub having snatched a few bottles from the vanity. ‘Almond Blossom.’ Sounded good to her. She dumped a stream into the tub. A light, nutty scent rose out of bubbles. She dumped in some more. After turning on the jets, she sank into the hot, burbling water, bursting with bubble blossoms. Now this was getting pretty darn close to heaven.
After ten minutes, she realized hindsightedly that night was coming on fast. She’d not turned a light on, but the room was faintly lit by the fire’s glow downstairs. Calum had put soft music on. She closed her eyes. Who needed light?
A few minutes later there was an intrusion.
“Ah, I thought you might like some atmosphere for your bath, Bethia.”
Figures that he turned into seduction with the sunset — she could tell by the way he warmed her name and laced it with hot caramel.
“What are you doing up here?” She sunk lower and scooped in bubbles.
He held a candle in one hand, which he put on the side of the tub and a steaming mug in the other. “Irish coffee, sweetened with cream. I thought you might like some.”
“That was thoughtful … perhaps. Thank you, Calum, you can scoot now.”
He sat down on the edge of the tub by her feet and picked up one of the bottles. The man was so not subtle. “Ah, what’s this? Almond blossom body scrub with coconut oil.” He pushed his sleeves up to the elbows. “Give me your foot.” With a quick turn of his wrist the lid spun off.
She flashed him a nice try look. He’d no idea he was up against the queen of resistance.
“Mmm,” he purred. “Smells good. Come on, lass. Who denies a foot rub? Give me your left toes first.”
“I will not. Okay, that’s enough, Calum. You really must go back downstairs.”
He leaned his magnificent shoulders back against the tiles. “You haven’t tried your coffee.”
“Will you leave then?”
The spiced smile he shot her sent the heat of a jalapeno between her thighs. How did he do that? “That’s what I thought. Get out.”
He didn’t move — big surprise there. Instead he dipped a finger into the bath and twirled circles over her feet.
“I will be a perfect gentleman, your most humble servant.”
“Excellent. You may serve by going back downstairs.”
His hand dipped lower. She wanted to tuck her legs up under her, but she had her bubbles right where she wanted them.
“I promise not to touch you anywhere you don’t want me to. Think about it, Beth, I’m offering to massage your aching feet.”
What had she been thinking telling Calum her feet hurt? “These jets are doing a fine job, thanks.”
“But I will attend all ten toes and ever so gently relieve the stiffness of the day, attentivel
y rub away all your wee aches and pains till you are so very appeased and relaxed.”
Why did that have to sound so good? “You expect me to believe you’re not the kind of guy that takes a mile when offered an inch.”
“I give you my word. We did have a long walk today. What’s so appalling about a soothing foot rub?”
Nothing that she could remotely think of. Of course he pulled the word ‘soothing’ out like warm taffy. Why couldn’t she let Calum give her a foot rub? She hesitated. It was all the answer the warrior needed. He smiled pure conquest and grabbed her foot in one deft plunge.
“Lay back, lass, close your eyes, there’s nothing for you to do but enjoy.”
That sounded so good.
“Oh,” she moaned weakly, as his thumbs pressed into the ball of her foot. If one thing would prove indisputable, it would be that Calum would give the most excellent foot rub known to the female population. Enjoy? Total understatement. What he was doing to her foot was moving clear on past bliss.
Just the right amount of pressure and kneading and satiny oil sliding between her toes, up and down each toe, pressing gently, up and down, up and down.
“Ah,” she opened her eyes. Figures, he would mimic that. She gave him a look — she wasn’t nearly that innocent. His response was a make–your–heart–stop kind of smile — yes, the cliché she’d read about, but she’d truly felt her heart trip over itself. His eyes were soft and playful as he moved on to give both her feet a thorough going over.
Beth was now a puddle in the bath. When Calum moved up her calves, she sank deeper in the water, only solid enough to keep bubbles in important places. He didn’t move past her knees. That was unexpected — she’d wondered where she’d draw the strength to resist him, wondered why she would possibly want to. She opened her eyes. Where’d he gone?
“You look fairly relaxed there,” came a deep, sexy brogue behind her. “Sit up. I’ll do your back.”
