Running from Fate

by Connelly, Rose

  He heard her steps on the path before the front door opened and stopped his pacing. With his legs spread, he crossed his arms over his chest and faced forward, ready and more than willing to give her hell as soon as she came in. When the door opened, however, she didn’t walk, she ran, and threw herself at him with such force that he stumbled back a step.

  When she clung to his neck and started to cry his arms automatically lifted, folding her in a tight embrace. Thoughts of anger were far from his mind as he put all his efforts into comforting her. It was several minutes before he realized that she was trying to say something and a few more before she calmed down enough so that he might be able to understand her. With gentle hands he pushed her back and used his thumbs to gently wipe the moisture from her cheeks.

  “What’s the matter, love,” he crooned, he voice rough with worry. “Take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

  “I woke up early,” Mira said between hiccups, “and I decided to go for a run.” When James’ eyes began to narrow she rushed on, determined to get it all out before he had his say. “I was on the path behind the estate,” she continued in a slightly calmer voice. “Everything was fine until I rounded the lake. There was a man hiding among the trees, waiting for me.” She paused and gulped audibly as the memory flooded back. “I tried to get away, but he was too fast for me.”

  “Son of a bitch!” James exploded. “Did he hurt you?” he asked with barely controlled violence. The thought of anyone harming her turned his blood cold. As gently, but swiftly as possible, he ran his hands over her, searching for any sign of injury. When she winced at a light touch on her breast, he uttered a foul word that would have caused a sailor to blush.

  “Did he rape you?” he growled.

  “No,” she choked out, intensely glad that the rage she sensed in him was not directed at her. “I managed to get away before he could. And,” she continued with quiet satisfaction. “He won’t be able to walk comfortably for a long while.”

  A slightly feral grin flashed across James’ face as he imagined the delicate woman in front of him taking down an attacker twice her size with a well-placed high kick. He sobered quickly though when he remembered the state she was in. He would be willing to bet that things had been much closer than she was letting on. The thought of hunting down the bastard who had done this and administering his own brand of punishment was sounding better and better. Unfortunately, he was probably long gone. There was something that he could do, however.

  “Winston,” he called, turning toward the dining room. “Would you place a call to the police? Tell them that it’s urgent.”

  “I have already taken the liberty,” Winston replied from his position by the staircase. “They should be here any moment.” A smile of satisfaction momentarily illuminated his austere face when a knock sounded and he went to answer it. “That will be them.”

  They weren’t what she expected, Mira thought, as the unlikely pair walked inside. One of them was a balding, middle aged man in a wrinkled uniform. He looked like he enjoyed the donuts a little too much. Him, Mira immediately dismissed. Standing next to him was a fresh faced brunette in pleated pants and a button down shirt. She looked to be no older than her mid-twenties, but Mira had a feeling that she was the real brains of the team.

  James also examined the strange duo, but he had an entirely different reaction. The older man, he thought, looked a little disheveled, but experienced and competent. He imagined that the woman was probably a budding psychologist brought along because it was a rape attempt. His teachers had pushed him into seeing one when he first came to America because he wasn’t ‘adjusting’ and he had never met any good ones, but he would withhold judgment. Mira was still a bit shaky and she could probably do with the company of a woman.

  To his surprise, it was the woman who stepped forward and offered her hand. “I’m Detective Montgomery,” she said in a well-modulated voice. “And this,” she gestured to the man standing behind her, “is officer Hinson.”

  “Detective,” James said with a slightly raised eyebrow.

  “I’m older than I look,” she responded coolly. “Now,” she turned to Mira and gentled her voice. “Why don’t we go somewhere more comfortable and you can tell me exactly what happened.” Without another word, she turned and walked through an archway into the formal living room, obviously expecting everyone else to follow.

  The room was not one of James’ favorite places. He supposed that it was pretty enough with its delicate Queen Anne furniture and beautiful, but uninspired artwork, but he had always found it to be a bit cold. He had inherited the room with the house and had left it alone because he found it useful when he needed to impress certain business acquaintances. He, however, preferred the warm comfort of his study. He said a quick prayer that the furniture would hold him and carefully lowered himself onto a graceful loveseat. When Mira passed by her pulled her down next to him. The officials could take the equally uncomfortable chairs.

  The detective finally settled herself and put on what James would call the ‘counselor’ tone. She spoke to Mira in a tone of voice most often reserved for a small, frightened child, directing her to begin the story ‘whenever she felt comfortable.’

  Mira, who had initially been glad to see the woman, was starting revise her opinion. Yes the experience had been scary, but if there was one thing she couldn’t stand it was being patronized. So as quickly and succinctly as possible, she described the attack and the events that had led up to it. She sighed with relief as she finished the retelling. She had expected to relive some of the fearful experience but, surprisingly, she felt purged, leaving her mind calm and her body relaxed. Apparently, she thought as she glanced over, it hadn’t had the same effect on James.

  When she had begun speaking, he had been leaning back with his arm around her shoulders and his hand gently rubbing her arm. Now, he was sitting forward with his elbows on his knees and a deep crease had formed between his brows.

  “What are you planning to do?” he demanded. “I’m sure that Mira gave you a good enough description to get started finding this man. Let me assure you,” he added in a more placating tone. “I will do anything I can to help.”

  “I appreciate that Mr. Kelly,” Detective Montgomery replied, “but right now we need Ms. Anders’ assistance. Officer Hinson,” she said as she turned to Mira, “is a sketch artist. If you feel up to it I’d like you to help him construct a likeness of the perpetrator. His picture might help us gain a lead.”

  “I’m perfectly fine,” Mira assured her. “But I can do better than a sketch. I can tell you how to find him.”

  “What?” three people asked in unison.

  “How do you propose to do that,” Officer Hinson asked skeptically. “Are you claiming to have some kind of psychic talent?”

  “Of course not,” Mira replied. “It didn’t come to me until you mentioned a picture. I knew something was familiar about the man when I first saw him, but it took me till now to figure out what it was.”

  “How do we find him then?” detective Montgomery asked.

  “I would suggest that you go and have a talk with Kimberly Roberts.”

  “For God’s sake,” James muttered as he fell back against the sofa.

  “You’re not being very supportive,” Mira chided, “but I forgive you.” She turned back to the officers. “I believe that I’ve seen the same man with Kimberly three or four times. In fact, the first time was at a business event that James dragged me to.”

  “I didn’t drag you,” James reminded her. “You agreed to go with me. Besides, I don’t remember Kim introducing us to anyone.”

  “She didn’t actually introduce us.” The detective looked disappointed. “But,” Mira continued. “He was with her when she came up to us and he was in an expensive tux so he must be someone important.”

  “Not necessarily,” James chimed in. “She never minded what she called ‘slumming’ as long as the man had muscles. Wait a second,” he said as co
mprehension dawned. “Are you talking about the big, blond man that she was glued to? I’ll kill her.”

  “That won’t be needed,” the detective said as she stood up and motioned to Officer Hinson. “We have enough to go on. You,” she narrowed her eyes and glared at James, “will stay out of the way and let me do my job and you,” she pointed at Mira, “will call me if you remember anything else.” With her back held straight, she walked out of the room, Hinson trailing behind.

  When the front door shut behind them Mira stood up, intending to make a quick escape and avoid a loud shouting match with James or, worse, a calm, reasonable lecture from the distant man he had become over the last week.

  “I’ll just be going,” she said as she sidled out the door. “I have some things that I desperately need to get done before work on Monday.”

  “You,” James said in a voice that could freeze lava, “will get back over here and sit down and you will listen to what I have to say.”

  “Wait a second,” she said as her ire started to rise. “I’m under no obligation to listen to anything you have to say. I may have agreed to temporarily stay with you, but I’m a fully grown woman and I don’t have to take orders from you or anyone else.”

  “If you don’t come over here right now and sit down,” he warned. “I’ll drag you, but you won’t be sitting down, you’ll be over my legs getting the spanking that you richly deserve.”

  It looked like it would be the fiery James that she had to deal with, Mira thought as she tilted her head up and stalked over to an armchair, daring him to say anything about her choice of seating. When he remained stonily silent she sat down and slowly crossed her legs as if she were wearing an elegant cocktail dress and not dirty, ripped exercise clothes.

  “What was it that you wanted to say to me?” she asked coolly.

  James almost laughed at her ice princess routine. When faced with his anger, most people cowered or apologized profusely. Despite the severity of the situation, he found himself amused and somehow pleased by her attitude. With some difficultly, he suppressed a smile and schooled his face to show only stern reproach.

  “Why,” he asked disapprovingly, “didn’t you wake me this morning? I thought you agreed to stay here because of your safety. What possessed you to do something as stupid as not only sneaking out this morning, but putting yourself in a situation where you were alone in a relatively secluded area? If you had only asked I would have gone with you.”

  “It was you I needed to get away from,” Mira exploded, her cool composure a thing of the past as the frustration that had sent her running earlier bubbled to the surface. “If I have to put up with one more brotherly pat on the shoulder or one more snippet of ‘well-meant’ advice from you, I’m going to scream.”

  “I hate to tell you this.” James dramatically rubbed his ears. “But you’re already screaming.”

  “It’s your fault,” she accused. “And I don’t have to take this.” With her head held high, she stood up and stalked from the room.

  James remained seated as he thought through the conversation. If she didn’t like his ‘brotherly’ treatment, he decided as a wicked smile spread across his face, he would just have to try something else.

  **********************************************************

  For the rest of the day Mira did her best to stay out of James’ way. She closeted herself in her large room and, after taking a long, hot shower in the adjoining bathroom and putting on her most comfortable pair of ratty sweats, moved the delicate cherry wood desk in front of the window, and tried to lose herself in work.

  Usually, the act of creating functional and beautiful designs on paper that would one day come to life and echo with the noise of humanity absorbed and satisfied her, but today she just couldn’t concentrate.

  With a frustrated sound, she balled up her third piece of paper and lobbed it in the direction of a wicker trashcan. It hit the rim and fell on the floor to reside with her previous two attempts. She briefly considered finding James and igniting a confrontation just to blow off some steam, but the idea seemed a little petty and she wasn’t sure that she was up to it just yet. She could, she supposed, sneak down to the library and grab a book, but reading didn’t particularly appeal either.

  She growled in frustration, tapped her pen on the table, and considered the possibility of taking a nap. All of a sudden she remembered the sketch that she had just started when the break-in occurred. With everything that had happened she hadn’t gotten back to it, but she vaguely recalled tossing it in one of her suitcases. With growing excitement, she jumped out of the chair and went searching.

  Fifteen minutes later, with the contents of her suitcases strewn on the floor, Mira was cheerfully humming along to the Celtic punk playing on her iPod and watching an enchanted forest glade coalesce in front of her eyes. She was so engrossed in her efforts that the day seemed to pass in a blink and she barely even noticed when Winston knocked on the door to inform her that dinner was ready. It was the loud, insistent grumbling of her stomach that finally managed to distract her.

  With a tired, but satisfied sigh she stood up and stretched, wiggling her fingers to uncramp them as she surveyed her almost finished work. It was a scene straight out of a fairytale. A group of woodland fairies held court under the lush branches of a huge oak tree. In elaborate dress they lounged on its spreading roots while the jeweled king and queen reclined in carved wooden thrones. Up above, half-seen creatures peeked out from behind their leafy shelter, watching the gathering as if envious of the glittering throng.

  As she left her room and made her way downstairs in her stocking feet, Mira decided to be amused rather than dismayed by the fact that her royal fairy couple bore a striking resemblance to James and herself. When she reached the gleaming, modern kitchen she put the matter out of her mind and focused on creating a towering turkey, lettuce, and tomato sandwich as dinner had apparently been served hours ago. She ate standing at the counter and demolished the monstrosity in less than ten minutes. Belly finally happy and her mind starting to get sleepy, she left the kitchen and dragged herself up the stairs.

  Just when she had reached the landing a loud crack split the night and the hallway was plunged into darkness. Far from being scared, she felt invigorated. She had always loved the chaos of a raging storm. Navigating by touch alone she made it back to her room and flung open the balcony doors.

  As she stepped outside another bright bolt crackled across the night sky, throwing the world into a false twilight. Thunder followed so closely behind it that the force of its bellow almost seemed to shake the house on its foundations. Suddenly, the sky opened up and sent down a flood. There was nothing Mira liked better than the beautiful fury of a thunderstorm, but right now she didn’t feel like getting drenched. Shivering slightly, she stepped back inside and pulled the doors shut.

  After rushing through her bedtime routine and pulling on an x-large t-shirt, she snuggled under the covers and listened to the soothing drumming of the rain as she let her mind wander. Just as she was starting to drift off the slight creaking of the door announced another presence in the room. As quiet footsteps approached the bed and paused, she kept her eyes closed and forced her body to relax. Hopefully, if James thought she was asleep, he would go away and leave her in peace.

  The soft rustle of cloth sounded and the blankets lifted, letting in a chill breeze that pebbled her nipples and brought goosebumps to her bare legs. Before she had time to utter a protest the cold air was cut off as a warm body slipped in next to hers and hair roughened legs slid against her own smooth ones. Another involuntary chill shook her body, but this time it wasn’t caused by the cold.

  “Are you awake love?” a deep voice whispered. She felt his breath and a soft kiss landed on her ear. Mira had never imagined that her ears were so sensitive. She shivered again as a warm tongue caressed her lobe. The motion shifted her backward, bringing her in full contact with a fully aroused male body. She knew that there was some reason
why she should move away, but her muscles seemed to have gone limp. Instead, she moaned involuntarily, the telling sound not quite drowned out by the thunder that rumbled outside.

  James gritted his teeth and tried to hold onto his sanity as her sensuous movements stimulated his already sensitized body. He had to go slowly, he reminded himself desperately, and ease her out of sleep. By the time she woke up she had to be so steeped in passion that she would give no thought to stopping. Carefully, he kissed her shoulder and eased a hand onto her breast.

  Suddenly, the enormity of what she was doing hit her and Mira struggled against the passionate bonds that chained her. “James,” she gasped desperately as his mouth shifted and he delicately bit her neck. “Nothing is fixed. I don’t even know if we trust each other anymore.” Another moan escaped her as he slowly ran his tongue over the mark his teeth had made. “We’ve…barely started over.”

  “But I like what we already have, A Ghrà,” James murmured against her throat. When she stiffened and tried to move away from him he propped himself up on his elbow and turned her over. The tension he saw reflected in her eyes disturbed him in some way, so instead of convincing her to forget her worries, he lay on his back and pulled her into his arms, urging her to lay her head on his chest.

  “What’s really wrong,” he asked as he gently stroked her back and tried to rein in his demanding need. “I thought things were going well.”

  “They are,” she murmured against his chest, “but I’m worried. What happens if I say or do something you don’t like and you blow up at me again?”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked in confusion. “We fight all the time and, frankly, I like the fact that you feel comfortable enough to stand up to me.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean.” She pulled out of his arms, wondering if he was being deliberately obtuse, and sat back on her heels, looking down on him. The sight of his lean muscles lightly sprinkled with curling black hair momentarily sidetracked her and she struggled against an overwhelming urge to run her hands over his chest and explore the intriguing shadows created by the watery moonlight. She cleared her throat and dragged her eyes away.