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Scent of Betrayal

Page 6

by Denise Carbo


  Davis folded his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. Behind him, Bethany sucked in a breath.

  “I was alone. Well, except for whoever hit me. Mr. Campbell found me. I suppose whoever it was could have been here to steal something, but I don’t know what.”

  The guards’ gazes flicked back and forth between the two of them. He could practically see their minds working. It wouldn’t be long before they pinned the attack on him.

  “Did you notice anything familiar about your attacker, Lady Bethany?”

  “No, they hit me from behind. I didn’t see anything.”

  “Perhaps you had an impression of their size? Were they much taller than you?”

  Davis refrained from rolling his eyes and simply waited silently. He supposed it was a small point in his favor Bethany hadn’t jumped to the same conclusion the guard had and started pointing her delicate little finger at him. “I…I’m sorry, but no. I really couldn’t say.”

  “What were you doing here, Mr. Campbell? If you weren’t with Lady Bethany, how is it you arrived at the flat just as she was being attacked?”

  “I arrived after her attack. If I had arrived during, then I could have prevented it, or at the very least captured her attacker. As to the why, I’m here on council authority. Feel free to question their reasons.”

  The guards glanced down and away.

  Bethany stepped out from behind him. “I think it might be prudent to post a guard outside my brother’s door until it can be determined there is nothing dangerous remaining in his lab or any evidence of his crimes. Please also be sure to inform my cousin and Advisor Heyes of the incident. Although I’m certain it was a simple break-in, they will want to be apprised of the situation in case it concerns the ongoing investigation of my brother’s crimes.”

  “Of course, Lady Bethany.”

  “Thank you. I am tired and want to return to my flat. If there are any further questions for me, please contact me tomorrow. Mr. Campbell, would you please accompany me?”

  Bethany started for the door. The guards parted for her, giving her a slight bow as she passed.

  Davis dropped his hands to his sides and slowly ambled behind her. She kept a brisk pace out of the apartment and down the hall to the elevator. He stayed abreast of her once she exited the apartment to keep a watchful eye out.

  After they entered the elevator, she pushed the button for the lobby and faced him. “Care to tell me what you were doing in the apartment?”

  “As I told the guards, council business.”

  A smirk inched across his face. The urge to stamp her foot came and went. The guards were less than subtle about their accusation Davis was responsible for her ambush and the break- in of Bryant’s flat.

  Bethany supposed it was possible. She would be a fool not to consider that possibility. Davis had been the only one there when she woke up. It was a bit convenient.

  However, she had no feeling of malicious intent around him. Wouldn’t she feel some fear? Sense in some way if he was the one who attacked her?

  Her faith in her instincts had grown a bit tarnished of late, but she couldn’t believe Davis was capable of attacking her.

  Davis sighed. “I told you earlier, I wanted to investigate your brother’s apartment to see if anything had changed. I didn’t attack you, Bethany.”

  She held his gaze. “I didn’t think you did.”

  He nodded. “Think back over the incident again. Did you notice anything at all about who attacked you?”

  Bethany rubbed her forehead. The drumming pain had transformed into a steady stream of agony. Even though her kind healed remarkably fast from injury, she was still prone to migraines. The stress of her life was catching up to her.

  “No. I heard the sound, panicked, and tried to flee. I heard a rustle behind me and then felt the shove, and the blow on my head.”

  “A rustle? You didn’t mention that before. What kind of rustle?”

  The elevator doors opened, and they walked in silence out of the building. Bethany stopped on the sidewalk. “A rustle of clothing. A jacket. The sound it makes when the material rubs together.”

  “Okay, that’s something. Perhaps if there’s any video footage of the building it will give us something to search for. I didn’t notice any surveillance cameras except in the lobby. Anything else? A smell?”

  Bethany slowly shook her head. Cameras hadn’t occurred to her. Surely something should have been captured. “My sense of smell is poor even by human standards I’m afraid.”

  “Mine’s not.”

  She stared up at him.

  “Bethany, the only scent I detected was yours. No other scent existed. It wasn’t a simple break-in.”

  Chapter Eight

  The patter of rain against her bedroom window prodded Bethany out of her reverie. Davis said there had been no other scent but hers. Someone had used Bryant’s scent blocker. Had they been in his apartment looking for more? Had they stolen it previously? Had her brother given it to them? Had they been working with him? For him? Or had he been working for them?

  So many thoughts and questions raced through her mind.

  Bethany gently shook her head.

  Focus, Bethany. Musing over her brother and who he may or may not have been working with would not solve her biggest dilemma at the moment.

  Davis was waiting in her living room, refusing to leave.

  Which meant he would be sleeping in her flat a few steps away from her bedroom. Her cozy flat shrank before her eyes.

  He’d insisted she wasn’t safe, and no amount of convincing him to the contrary had worked when they’d arrived back at her flat. She’d finally given up trying and muttered to him about getting bedding for the couch.

  She glanced down at the pillow and wool, plaid blanket she’d pulled down from the top of her closet. Placing them on her bed, she raised up on her tippy toes to grab a set of forest green sheets and a matching pillowcase as well.

  The soft rain had increased to a staccato of beats against the window. Good. The sound of rain had always helped her to sleep. She had a feeling she would need all the help she could get tonight.

  The soft bedding filled and overflowed her arms as she trudged out of her bedroom and into the living room. Davis stood staring out the window. He glanced over his shoulder at her, and then walked over to take the pile from her arms.

  His warm hands brushed against hers—sending a tingle of awareness racing up her arms. She snatched her hands away and clasped them together behind her back.

  He dropped the bedding on the open sofa bed. He must have opened it while she was in the bedroom. She glanced around the room to see he had tucked her table against the wall and pushed back the other furniture to make room.

  Davis began pulling the sheet across the mattress. Bethany quickly stepped forward to grasp the other side and help him.

  “I don’t suppose there is any point in trying again to make you listen to reason about this?”

  “Nope.”

  “You would be much more comfortable in your suite.” Bethany glanced down the length of the mattress. “I doubt you will even fit on this.”

  “It’s fine. I’ve slept on worse.”

  They also fixed the top sheet and the blanket together. “Even if it wasn’t a simple break-in, the odds that whoever it was would come after me have to be astronomical. Why would they? If they wanted to hurt me, they had the opportunity while I was unconscious.”

  A slight shudder rippled over her skin as visions of what could have happened to her played in her head.

  Davis stiffened and spoke through a clenched jaw. “Has it not occurred to you that something spooked them before they could kill you? Your brother had a hidden lab in his apartment. It’s not out of the realm of possibility he also had a hidden exit that no one has discovered yet. Or your attacker simply walked out the front door before I arrived. The scent blocker masked any smell I could have gotten to track them. They still may come after you to finish
the job.”

  Bethany dropped her gaze and wrapped her arms about her waist.

  “I think it makes more sense that I surprised them by entering the apartment, and they simply wanted out and I blocked their escape.”

  “Your Pollyanna attitude is going to get you killed.”

  “I hardly think being realistic and logical can be construed as a Pollyanna attitude. You naturally see the danger in every situation and react accordingly. I am sure that makes you good at your job. I just do not see the point in overreacting.”

  Davis stalked around the bed toward her. Determination etched in his features and stance.

  Bethany dropped her arms and took a small step back before she caught herself and stood her ground. She would not be intimidated by him, or anyone, ever again.

  He stopped inches from her, looming over her. She raised her chin and met his gaze.

  “Overreacting? How’s this for overreacting?”

  He snatched her against him, wrapping his arms around her.

  She gasped and slapped her hands flat against his chest.

  Blinking up at him, she opened her mouth to disabuse him of the notion scare tactics would work with her.

  His head dipped down, and his lips captured hers before she could utter a word.

  Her mind went blank—every thought fluttering right out of her head.

  Soft lips, warm breath, and a tight embrace consumed her thoughts.

  Stunned pleasure heated her skin.

  His tongue sought entrance, and she granted it welcomingly.

  The dark, exotic taste of him exploded in her mouth.

  Her fingers clenched his shirt in her fists. She rose on her tippy toes to have more access.

  Firm hands grasped her hips.

  Suddenly, he wrenched his mouth away from hers and lifted and set her back from him.

  Bethany leaned forward slightly, not ready to give up the pleasure of his embrace.

  Davis spun away and stalked to the window, again staring out into the dark, rainy night.

  Comprehension dawned, and a chill spread over her sensitized skin.

  He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.

  Shame and embarrassment hunched her shoulders. Her overenthusiastic response to his kiss had not been well received. What had he expected from her? A slap in the face? Had he been trying to teach her lesson? Show her how vulnerable she was?

  Bethany clasped her hands together. She was hardly overly experienced in the area of desire, but she didn’t think he had been unaffected by their kiss. His plan may have backfired on him.

  She started to turn toward her bedroom but halted the movement.

  Avoiding confrontation had always been her pattern, but she'd promised herself she wasn’t going to run and hide anymore. She was an owl, not an ostrich.

  “Why did you kiss me?”

  His back stiffened.

  “Why do you think?”

  “That isn’t an answer. It’s irrelevant what I think. I would like to know why please.”

  He cocked his head slightly, so she could see his reflection in the glass. “To prove a point.”

  Bethany nodded and glanced down at the honey gold planks of the wood floor. It was as she thought. Davis believed her to be weak and unable to defend herself. Their brief history together had hardly shown him differently. She had been duped, betrayed, and left for dead by her own brother.

  “I am not weak.” She wasn’t entirely sure whether she was telling him or herself, but she needed to say the words.

  Davis faced her and frowned.

  Before he could speak and possibly list all the reasons why he thought she was, Bethany clenched her fists at her sides and plowed on, determined to prove her statement to herself and him. “I am not weak. I realize recent events may have portrayed me in a poor light, but I survived. That makes me strong, not weak.”

  “I agree.”

  Surprised, Bethany met his gaze.

  “I don’t think you’re weak. I never did. You’re a survivor. Most wouldn’t have endured what you have.”

  She searched his features and words for any hint of sarcasm but found none. “Oh. Well, then.”

  “However, that doesn’t mean you don’t need protection.”

  Bethany shifted and sighed.

  “You’re not a fighter. Have you ever been trained in how to defend yourself?”

  “No, it was frowned upon.” She had asked her uncle once if she could take some fighting classes. He had laughed at her and said it was both unnecessary and beneath her station. “I don’t know if you noticed, but there are only two female guards here.”

  “I noticed.”

  Of course, he did. He noticed everything.

  “They had to battle their way to their positions. They are the first. My uncle had male chauvinistic tendencies.”

  “No kidding.” Davis sighed and propped his hands on his hips. “Look, if you want, I will show you some basic moves.”

  “Yes, please.” Bethany stepped forward.

  He held up his hand. “Not tonight. We can start tomorrow. It’s been a long day, and you should get some rest.”

  She tried not to let her disappointment show. She wanted to learn. She never wanted to feel vulnerable again.

  Bethany turned to go after whispering, “Goodnight.”

  Davis mumbled, “Night” in response and rubbed his hands over his face as soon as the door closed behind her.

  Holy shit!

  The woman nearly brought him to his knees.

  His body was on fire with need. Luckily, she was too naïve to notice. Touching her had been a colossal mistake.

  She thought the point he had been trying to prove was that she was vulnerable and needed protection, and maybe it had been his initial intent. But somewhere between his first steps and when he reached her and stood staring down at her upturned face, it had changed to proving to himself he didn’t want her. He didn’t crave the touch of her soft skin, or her slight body beneath his hands. She wasn’t his mate.

  No way. How could she be? Davis plopped down on the edge of the mattress and rubbed his face roughly with the palms of his hands. Yeah, keep arguing with yourself, Davis.

  She was his.

  And now what the hell was he going to do?

  Chapter Nine

  Despite listening to the soft pitter-patter of rain, Bethany found herself lying in bed, wide awake and staring at the swirling pattern of paint on the ceiling. She snuggled deeper into her soft mattress, tugging the baby blue duvet and crisp white sheets up to her chin. A slight, fresh, floral scent rose from the sheets. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes, only to pop them open a moment later.

  She could hear him shifting on the sofa bed in the living room. If she could hear him, it stood to reason he would hear any movement she made.

  Her fingers clenched over the sheet and pulled it up to the tip of her nose. Holding still as a statue, she listened for any more sounds emanating from the other room. Perhaps if he started to snore she would relax enough to find some sleep.

  Having a man lying a thin wall away from her was a novel experience. A man she found extraordinarily attractive and who had just kissed her senseless. She’d been unconscious or too ill and in shock to care about the lack of privacy when she’d been held prisoner by the North American clan.

  To prove a point.

  Rolling her eyes, she turned on her side and pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her feather pillow.

  She had no business fixating on his kiss, or even kissing him in the first place. The last time she allowed herself to feel a romantic interest in a man he had ended up murdered, and she'd almost lost her life as well.

  Donald had been sweet and gentle. He hadn’t deserved his fate. He’d lost his life because the two of them had found some comfort in one another, both knowing their search for a mate had been a waste of time.

  Poor Donald. He wanted nothing more than to find his mate and start a fa
mily. Now the dream was forever lost. Because of her.

  One decision changed his destiny.

  If he had chosen someone else to spend time with, or had simply gone home, he would still be alive. If she had gone home, he would be alive.

  A tear trailed down the length of her nose, and she absently wiped it away.

  Why had she ever gone to the meet and greet?

  It was out of character. She should have stayed on her path. Instead, she had let Celeste and Kate talk her into going. They had dared her, teased she would never go through with it. She had been in a rut, feeling aimless and a bit lonely. So, of course, she had to prove them wrong.

  So foolish, and Donald had paid the price.

  Wiping her wet cheeks on her pillow, she hugged it closer. Only the soft beats of rain from outside could be heard.

  Her eyelids slid down, shuttering out the night, and her mind drifted into dreamland.

  She ran down a dark alley. The sound of her footsteps hitting the stones echoed back to her. The splash of a puddle soaked her foot and splattered her ankle. Fear and panic squeezed at her chest. Her breaths sawed from her lungs. There, what was that? The flap of enormous wings hovered above her. She gasped in horror.

  Bethany jerked awake. Her palms were flat against the bed. The bedding shoved to the bottom of the bed. Her ivory nightgown was twisted around her hips and upper thighs. Her chest rapidly rose and fell. Harsh gulps of air filled her ears. Gazing about the darkened room, she searched every corner and shadow. Fear held her immobile.

  The door to her bedroom swung open, and a figure loomed in the opening.

  She sucked in a panicked breath, and her gaze darted right and left looking for an escape.

  “Are you all right? What happened?”

  Davis. It was Davis. The sight of his familiar form calmed her racing heart. She inhaled deeply and slowly, and then pulled herself to a seated position while yanking her nightgown down to cover her legs.

  His gaze searched the room before once again landing on her.

  “I had a nightmare. It’s nothing. I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep.” Her voice sounded harsh to her ears. Her throat was dry and achy.

 

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