Sinister Sanctuary: A Ghost Story Romance & Mystery (Wicks Hollow Book 4)

by Colleen Gleason

  “I was too busy trying to finish a bloody book,” she said. “I had other more important things on my mind than a ghostly presence. Why didn’t you mention it?” she countered, enjoying her companion’s adorable sense of unease.

  “I only heard it once—besides the night we were trapped up on top of the lighthouse,” he said. “The next night I didn’t hear it, so I thought it stopped after that.”

  “It didn’t. I heard it every night except the one night you didn’t hear it. Always at one thirty on the dot. Hard to miss.”

  “You didn’t say anything about it.”

  “Nor did I come running over to your side of the cottage to make sure you weren’t being tortured to death,” she replied teasingly. “Or vice versa.”

  Well, that shut him up. She grinned to herself.

  “After the second night, I wore earplugs and played white noise,” he replied as he navigated the Jeep off the main road onto the narrow, bumpy path that led to the Stony Cape island bridge. Trees arched overhead like a green tunnel, casting the road into an eerie darkness. “So I didn’t hear it. In case it happened again.”

  “Classic avoidance,” she said.

  He rolled his eyes, then glanced at her. “Did you hear it the first night you were here?”

  “Not the first night. I’d had a few too many B-Cubeds at dinner, and I put earplugs in and slept like a log. Which is how I’m going to sleep tonight—the sleep of the innocent…or, in this case, the sleep of the author of the finished book.”

  “But it’s not really finished,” he reminded her. “Technically.”

  Why did he keep mentioning that? “It’s close enough for me to sleep the sleep of the author of the finished book.”

  “Got it.” He turned the wheel, and the Jeep bounced onto the rut-filled road that led to the island. “Well, again, congratulations. Really. I’m very happy for you.”

  It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet, so it was still very light out. The sun wouldn’t set for at least another hour.

  “I think we should go up to the top of the lighthouse and look around,” she said impulsively.

  He glanced over with a look that clearly said, Are you crazy? and she began to laugh.

  “Don’t you want to see if the ghost comes back again? With that amorphous, phosphorescent greenish-blue glowy stuff you claim is algae?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “But it would be your chance to take a sample—that way you could prove it’s just algae and not some ghostly specter.”

  He clamped his lips shut, and Teddy continued to smirk at him.

  “Well, if you don’t want to do that,” she said, lowering her voice to a purr, “maybe we should walk back over to the hot springs. Have an evening soak. I’m still in celebration mode. You have to understand—fifty thousand words in six days, with no human interaction…I feel as if I’ve been freed from solitary confinement.”

  She saw his Adam’s apple bob sharply in his throat, and her lips curled in a satisfied smile. Marcie Schmarcie, she thought…and realized, suddenly, that it wasn’t just a joke.

  She really liked the guy. And he was pretty hot for a nerd. Plus he was smart and dry-humored. And she thought he should definitely be ready to move on from Miss Marcie the boring schoolteacher.

  “Um…” He pulled into the parking place next to the cottage and stopped the Jeep with a little jolt. Turning the key, he said casually, “All right,” and shocked her into speechlessness.

  As she climbed out of the vehicle, she was still reeling a little, but she wasn’t a writer—and good with snappy dialogue—for nothing, so she said, “Okay, I’ll go change. Suits or no suits?”

  Oscar tripped, stumbling as he caught himself, and sent a few rocks skittering over the parking area. But he didn’t look at her as he started for the cottage. Teddy was certain he was pretending he didn’t hear her, and that made her smirk even more.

  “Meet you back here in a few minutes,” he said before ducking into the cottage.

  He was as good as his word—which were points in his favor, Teddy decided; he could have taken a lot longer or even “forgotten” about the plan, getting distracted by his lab work. Instead, he was waiting for her with a towel slung around his neck.

  “I see you opted for a suit,” she said, glancing at his dark gray swim trunks and a soft, slightly wrinkled button-down shirt that made him look more like a tourist than a college professor. “And then some.”

  “I figured protection against the mosquitos would be a good plan. What about you?” he replied, eyeing the loose, knee-length coverup she was wearing.

  Teddy gave him a Cheshire grin. “You’ll just have to wait and find out. Come on now—don’t you want to have another MEM as part of my evening of celebration?”

  “MEM?”

  Her smile turned sly. “Figure it out, Dr. London.” And with that, she turned and started off toward the path that led to the hot spring.

  Oscar stared after her, a bemused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. MEM. Of course he knew what that meant: mutually enjoyable moment.

  And damned if he wasn’t remarkably interested in following up on the possibility—and so he fell in behind her.

  For some reason, it seemed a shorter walk to the hot springs tonight than it had the previous times. Maybe because most of those other times he’d either been alone, or been slogging along with bags of equipment.

  Which reminded him that he hadn’t checked his email to see whether any of his colleagues had gotten back to him with an idea of what those spiky crystal microbes were.

  He paused to fix an untied shoelace (to be honest, he’d neglected to retie it because he’d been in a hurry when changing his clothes, in hopes she wouldn’t change her mind about walking all the way over to the springs), and by the time he began walking again, Teddy was far enough ahead of him that he couldn’t see her any longer. But he could hear her traipsing rapidly along the trail, pushing aside branches that grew out over the rudimentary path.

  When he came around the corner to the small clearing where the churning pool was, he discovered she was already in the water. A quick glance told him she’d tossed her coverup over a bush, and left her sandals (impractical for hiking, but at least they didn’t come untied) next to it.

  She was submerged up to her neck, and Oscar’s heart leapt as his belly did a scary, excited dip. He couldn’t tell whether she’d made good on her implicit threat about going suit-less—and he wasn’t precisely sure how he felt about that either way.

  There were parts of him—well, one part in particular—that was very intrigued and hopeful, and another part that was a little…not really nervous, not wary, but just careful. After all, it had been a while since he’d had much of an MEM with anyone since Marcie.

  The thought of his former fiancée drifted into his head as he bent to untie his shoes, then poofed into nothing when he saw Teddy watching him. She had that smile she’d been wearing off and on tonight—almost a smirk, where it saucily curled the corners of her lips, and with a hint of feline to it.

  A predatory feline.

  “Come on in. The water’s great!” she called, and inched up a little from the depths to reveal creamy white—and bare—shoulders. Even though the pool churned around her, he could see there were no straps over her delicate shoulders. The hollows dipping behind each of her clavicles were suddenly very intriguing, and the glistening moisture scattered over her skin beckoned like Odysseus’s sirens.

  Oscar swallowed hard, then let himself smile with pleasure. Whatever she was—or wasn’t—wearing, he was definitely going to shoot for an MEM.

  Or more.

  He stripped off his shirt and added it to the pile her coverup made, then slipped out of his shoes.

  When he finally climbed over the barrier of rocks that made the sides of the pool, he sighed with pleasure as the hot, bubbling water enveloped him.

  “I know,” she said, tipping her head back against the wall behind her. “It�
��s heaven, isn’t it?”

  She appeared so sensual, so feminine and at ease and so delicious, with her silky neck bare and exposed, and her eyes closed in bliss, that he couldn’t look away.

  Oscar didn’t know what possessed him—and he’d be forever glad it did—but before he even settled in the pool, he surged gently over to her.

  “Let’s get this out of the way,” he said, sliding a hand up her bare, water-flecked arm. And he tugged her closer as his other hand settled on her shoulder.

  When she slid into his arms, her warm, wet body slick and soft against his, he smiled and covered her lips with his.

  Not suit-less, but close, he noted as he slid his hands around her and discovered the scrap of a bikini top. Then his thoughts frittered away and became a whirlwind of heat and pleasure. The soft moan she gave when she met his mouth with hers sent a stab of lust into his belly, and the eagerness with which she kissed him back stoked it hotter.

  Her lips—those soft, curling, smirking, always moving ones—were lush and tasty and fit perfectly to his. The water from the pool bubbled and steamed around them as he pulled her against him, then settled back against the side of the wall and went deeper. Tongues and teeth stroked and clashed, breaths and sighs mingling with the churning stew of the pool and pleasure.

  He slicked his hand over her hot, damp skin and felt her silky-smooth legs twining sexily with his beneath the pool’s surface. She tasted a little salty and a lot sweet, and it was a long while before he could make himself pull away.

  “Mmm,” she said, smiling at him. She was so close that he could see the speckles of water on her face, and one tiny drop clinging to an eyelash. A smudge of dark makeup was dashed near one eye, and her lips were full and puffy and glistening. “That was nice.”

  “I thought so too,” he replied, and gently released her. His heart was still thudding and there were parts of him that berated him for putting space between them, but Oscar found he wanted to look at her a bit more, even though he’d spent all evening doing so. And if he kept her in his arms any longer, both of them would be suit-less in very short order.

  “What a wonderful way to end a day of celebration,” she said, eyeing him with that feline look again.

  He crossed his arms over his middle and contemplated her from a relatively safe distance. “I don’t understand how you can be so celebratory when you’re not really finished with the book.”

  She chuckled. “That really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

  “Well, I mean, what if you get writer’s block again? How can you relax when it’s not sent off to your agent or editor or wherever you send it to? The project isn’t finished.” He was genuinely concerned for her.

  She smoothed back a few strands of hair that were clinging to her throat and seemed to understand his worry. “Here’s the thing, Oscar. I could send it off tomorrow to my editor if I wanted to. It’s that done. But I want to tweak and polish it more before I do. That’s all.” She smirked at him. “I do like the idea that you’re very concerned about me finishing.”

  Hoo boy. Oscar nearly swallowed his tongue. “Well,” he managed, aware that his face had gone a little warmer, “it just makes for a—uh—happier situation all around.”

  She burst out laughing, and his heart pinged a little when her eyes crinkled charmingly. “You do surprise me, Dr. London.” Again with the purr.

  It was as if she knew what it did to him when her voice dropped like that and her eyes went all soft and sly.

  Now it was his turn to tease. “But I have to admit, I’m a little offended that you didn’t use my idea of a trapdoor.”

  “Well,” she replied, “even though I didn’t use it, you reaped the reward of giving me the idea, didn’t you?”

  All righty, then. He grinned back. “Excellent point.”

  “So, uh—what have you been doing to keep your mind occupied during these last few days without me to entertain you?”

  “Oh, this and that. I’ve hiked around the area a lot. Drew some more samples from this pool—I found something unexpected in it—and also from some other water sources in the area. I’ve been testing them, and have contacted a few colleagues as well. Oh, and I cooked for a neurotic writer a few times, and went head to head with her cousin when he showed up wanting to bother her.”

  “Head to head with Declan?” She perused him with a long look. “I think if it came down to it, you could’ve taken him.”

  For some reason, her comment pleased him absurdly. “Fortunately for him, it didn’t come to that. But he was more than mildly shocked to find that you’d shacked up with a guy he didn’t know about.”

  “Either that or he thought you’d kidnapped me and locked me away and was having your way with me—or worse.”

  “Yes, I actually think that’s what was on his mind the first time he saw me. Hence the nearly head-to-head bit. But I didn’t know who he was, and I figured you didn’t want to be bothered. After we cleared things up, we ended up having a few beers and watching the lake for a while. And the next day I joined him and a couple buddies—Baxter and the police chief—for a few beers at the Lakeside. You didn’t even notice I was gone.”

  “True enough, but that burger was so good. Thank you for bringing it home for me. I wolfed it down cold at about two o’clock that night. After the nightly scream.” She shifted in the water, easing out of it a little, obviously to give herself a break from the heat. Now he could see the hot pink strip of the bikini top covering her lovely breasts, and how her shoulders and chest were flushed red. “So you mentioned you found something unusual in this water. I’m assuming it’s not some dangerous microbe or something.”

  “I’m not certain what it is. I’ve sent the image off to a few colleagues—it looks something like a spiky crystal snowflake, but not. So far, no one’s given me any information about it.”

  “Do you have a picture of it? You could do a reverse image search online. I had to do that once when I was trying to identify a certain weapon for Blue.”

  “Hmm. I could try that. Speaking of Sargent Blue—and let me say that as a straight male reader, I find him nearly as compelling and well drawn as Diana and Trib seem to—but what’s all this about him being your fantasy? A spy who can’t read without his glasses and has a ferret for a pet pushes your buttons?”

  “And a cat. He has a cat as well, named Armstrong. He adopted him in the fourth book, Blind Alley.”

  “I just finished Traitor Square, so I’ll move on to that one next. Thanks for the warning. So. What is it about him that’s your fantasy?”

  “Oh, well…” For the first time, Teddy seemed a little bashful. “Well, it’s partly just who he is—that moral code, you know. But there’s the glasses part.” She sighed, then tipped her head back against the wall again—so she didn’t have to look at him? “I have a real thing for guys who wear geeky-looking glasses. Plus I thought giving him a liability would make him more realistic,” she added quickly. “And, of course, add some plot difficulties. Can’t make it too easy for the character, you know.”

  So she liked guys with glasses, did she? Well, well, well. This was becoming more interesting.

  “And he’s resourceful, and knows about a lot of different things—I always pictured him as a sort of assassin-like librarian. He’s a little bit of a geek, I guess. He came to his spy work relatively late in life, after a lot of classes, including a library science degree.” She surged completely up out of the water now. “Whew,” she said, fanning herself as she perched on the side of the pool. Her legs were like white beams against the dark rocks and water in the lowering light, but they definitely had a pretty shape. “It’s getting dark and the bugs will be coming out soon. And I’m about done stewing in this water. Pretty sure I’m cooked all the way through.”

  Oscar helped her climb out of the pool and accidentally-on-purpose bumped her up against him so they went body to body all the way from hips to knees. He saw no reason not to slide his arms around her and pull her even clo
ser, and she appeared to agree that taking advantage of the moment was a good idea.

  He found her mouth again, but only for a moment before he had to taste the warm, salty, damp skin of her neck and throat. The feel of her curves against him was delicious, and when she slid her foot up along his calf, he dragged her up closer. His hand tangled in the damp bottom of her bundle of hair, and her hands shoved up into his hair as she turned the kiss deeper and hotter.

  All thought evaporated from his mind as he filled himself with the taste, scent, and feel of her there in the moonlight—damp, hot, sweet. He couldn’t get enough of the way her mouth fit to his, the way she made a very soft, deep moan in the back of her throat whenever he nibbled along the side of her neck or around the myriad of earrings she wore.

  At last, she pulled away, arms linked around his neck, breathing heavily. Her pink-covered breasts rested against his chest, and he knew she must be able to feel the solid erection filling out his swim trunks. “That was very nice, Oscar. Verrry nice.”

  “An exceptional MEI, I think,” he said when he caught his breath and could formulate the words. Then, in order to preserve his brain function and protect them from being eaten alive by the mosquitos, he stepped away—because otherwise, things were going to get a lot more serious very quickly. It took him a few tries to get his shirt on properly—and forget about buttoning it.

  He’d just slipped on his shoes when Teddy began to laugh. “I just got it. MEI.”

  Oscar glanced at her, and they said it together: “Mutually enjoyable interlude.”

  She gave him that feline gaze, now gilded by moonlight, which gave her an exotic, elfin look. “And I certainly hope it’s not the last of them.”

  And with that cat-in-the-cream expression on her well-kissed lips, she marched off into the woods.

  He followed, keeping up with her this time—and walking as quickly as possible in order to leave the mosquitos and gnats behind. That was the bad part about being in or near the woods.