Irish Sex Fairy: Ellora's Cave

by Kelly Jamieson

She blinked eyes that had gone watery again. “Another vehicle was following me. He was riding my tail all the way and making me nervous. I was going to pull over onto the shoulder to let him pass, and he crowded me…and I…” She stopped, closed her eyes and swallowed.

  “It’s okay.” He laid his hand on her forehead. “Are you sure, Keara?”

  Eyes flew open and glared at him. “You don’t believe me?”

  “Well…sure I do, but I just…why would someone do that?”

  “I don’t know.” The words whispered out of her and her eyes closed again. “I don’t know. But he did.”

  “We’ll talk more about it later,” he said softly, stroking her silky hair back over her head. “When you’re out of here. Let’s just get you out of here and get you home first.”

  She made a small nodding movement of her head and winced. “Okay.”

  The tests showed no internal bleeding. She had only a mild concussion, so they sent her home with painkillers and a warning about potential problems, and Shane led her out of the hospital to his car parked in the Emergency Vehicles Only zone.

  “A police car,” Keara murmured, as she got in. “This is the second time I’ve been in a police car.”

  The first likely having been the robbery a few weeks back. Shane got in and glanced at her. “You okay?”

  Her bottom lip quivered. “Yes.”

  Shit. Shane put the car in gear and pulled out.

  “Does Maeve know?”

  “No. We’ll tell her about it when we get there.”

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The only sound in the car was the crackling and distorted voices on the radio as the dispatcher talked to officers.

  “Where’s my car?”

  “Tow truck took it to their compound. You’ll need to call your insurance company.”

  “Oh.”

  “I can’t believe they actually got it up the side of the mountain,” Shane said. He shook his head as he drove. “Christ, Keara.”

  “I know, I know. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

  “I know. It’s just…” Words failed him.

  He parked behind Maeve’s shop, and helped Keara in the back door, with a call to Maeve. She appeared in the Staff Only door.

  “Shane? What are…oh my God! Keara!” She flew across the hall to where they stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the apartment. “What happened?”

  “She had an accident,” Shane said, holding onto her around her waist. There was nothing to her, she was so small and thin. “Motor vehicle accident. She’s okay, though, Maeve.”

  “I’m okay.” Keara pulled herself away from him.

  Maeve just stood there, hands on Keara’s shoulders staring at her in shock. “Jesus and Mary, what happened? Oh, come. Let’s get you upstairs.”

  Shane started to lead Keara up the steps but then cursed and bent down, sliding an arm beneath her legs. He picked her up and carried her up the stairs.

  “Shane!” She clutched his shoulders. “I can walk.”

  “Sure.” She wasn’t heavy at all, although climbing stairs made it a little more difficult. At the top of the stairs, Maeve opened the door and let them into the apartment. “Where’s your room?”

  “It’s this one,” Maeve said, scurrying ahead to open Keara’s door. She stepped aside and let Shane carry Keara into the room and lay her on the bed.

  “I don’t need to go to bed,” Keara snapped, but she let her head sink into the pillow. She looked like crap, but Christ, she was still appealing as hell.

  “Just lie down for a few minutes,” he growled back, and turned to Maeve. He filled her in on the details of the crash as he knew them, saying nothing about Keara’s claim she’d been forced off the road. “She was damn lucky the way her car got hung up on that tree on the way down or she’d be…well, it’d be way worse. Air bags probably saved her from too much damage. Just bruises and scrapes.”

  “I have a big scrape on my…chest,” Keara interjected. “From the seatbelt.” She touched a hand just above her left breast.

  Maeve’s eyes were wide but she didn’t freak out. “Well, thank the good Lord for that,” she said. “A scrape from a seatbelt is far better than…” Her eyes flicked to Shane and then back to Keara. “Well. How did this happen, Keara? I don’t understand.”

  A long, shaky breath escaped Keara’s lips and she started to sit up. “I’m sorry I didn’t get your errands done…”

  Shane put a hand on her shoulder—her right one—and gently pushed her back down as Maeve sad, “Oh, muirnín, that doesn’t matter.”

  “Just lie down,” Shane said mildly. “We can talk about this later if you just want to rest.”

  She gazed back at him, looking…resigned. “There’s no way to prove someone forced me off the road, is there?”

  Maeve gasped. “Forced you off the road? Keara! Are you serious?”

  “Yes.” She held Shane’s gaze. “Someone made me crash. I don’t know why.”

  “We’ll have a look at your vehicle,” Shane replied. “Did he hit you?”

  “On the back bumper.” Her mouth twisted. “He came up close beside but I jerked the wheel away to avoid hitting him. That’s when I went through the guardrail.”

  “Can you describe the vehicle?” he asked. “I don’t suppose you got a plate number.”

  “No.” The corners of her mouth turned down. “Of course I didn’t get a plate number. He was right in my rearview mirror for miles and I was getting pissed off, but I couldn’t see his plate, and then there was no time for that. It was a blue SUV. I think…I’m thinking it was a Jeep Liberty, but I can’t say that for sure. Something like that. Dark blue. It was a man. He had short, dark hair. Sunglasses. That’s all I know.” She took a breath. “It happened so fast.”

  Shane took the bottle of painkillers they’d given her at the hospital out of his pocket and set it on the small table beside the bed. “She just had some of those,” he told Maeve. “She can have more in four hours.” He handed over a printout with information on mild concussions for her. “She needs to have an eye kept on her for the next twenty-four hours.”

  Keara’s eyes closed.

  “What can I get you, muirnín?” Maeve asked, touching her hair. “Anything to eat? Drink?”

  “Some water,” Keara whispered. “Just water, please.”

  Shane followed Maeve out to the kitchen where she poured water from the pitcher she kept in the refrigerator. She gazed at him with anxious eyes. “Do you believe that’s what happened?”

  He shrugged. “No reason not to believe it. But like she said, hard to prove. Unless there were witnesses, which it doesn’t sound like, or some damage to her car. If some paint from the other vehicle is on her bumper, we’d have something to go on. Otherwise…” He met her gaze. “Single vehicle collision. We won’t charge her with anything.”

  “I should hope not!”

  “No drugs or alcohol involved. Her insurance company won’t be impressed.” Huh. Where were her insurance papers? He could get that started for her at least.

  “I have to get back to the store.” Maeve looked frustrated. “Jayla’s not in today so I’ve no one else.”

  “I’ll stay for a while.” He took the glass of water from Maeve and strode back into the bedroom. “Here you go.” He helped her sit up, pushing some of the big pillows from the bed behind her so she could sip the water. “Where’s your insurance stuff? I’ll call and get the claim started for you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” She lay back down.

  “Whatever. Where is it?”

  “No, Shane. I can do it myself.” She started to get back up and he put a hand on her shoulder and pressed her down.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re in no shape. Just let me do this, for Chrissake.”

  She sighed. “My purse.” He handed her the soft leather bag and she dug it out and handed it to him.

  “You rest. I’ll make some calls.” He walked to the door.
r />   “Okay.” She watched him, eyes huge in her wan face. “Shane?”

  “Yeah?” He turned at the door.

  “You do look good in your uniform.”

  He lifted a brow. Where the hell had that come? Must be the pain meds. One corner of his mouth kicked up. “Uh…thanks.”

  Chapter Ten

  Keara woke to Maeve nudging her arm.

  “I can’t let you sleep too long, muirnín,” she said softly. “Can you wake up and talk for a few minutes?”

  “Mmmm.” She forced her eyes open and pushed up onto her elbows. Every muscle screamed with pain and she whimpered. “Dammit.”

  “You okay? What can I do?”

  “Can I have more pain pills yet? What time is it?”

  The room was dim but Keara could see Maeve look at her watch. “Yes, you can have more now. Here.” She shook out two tablets and handed them to her with a glass of water. Then she sat carefully on the end of the bed.

  Keara downed the pills and took a few long gulps of water. Her head throbbed to the point of making her feel a little nauseous. “Well, this is no fun,” she said, lying back down.

  “I’d say not.” Maeve studied her. “I feel terrible that this happened to you, muirnín.”

  “It’s not your fault. It’s my own stupid fault.”

  “You said someone else caused the accident.”

  Keara sighed. She’d been thinking about it ever since, when she hadn’t been dozing. “I thought he did. I don’t know. Maybe I just imagined it. I was nervous with him tailgating like that, on the winding road.”

  “That highway is crazy. I never should have asked you to go into Santa Melita.”

  “It’s not your fault, Maeve. Maybe the guy was just trying to pass. I was slowing down and pulling over. I must have overreacted. An accident.” But she recalled how close he’d been to her car, how her heart had leaped with fear. He’d had the whole two-lane highway to pass her on.

  “But he didn’t even stop. You’d think he would have stopped to help if it had been an accident.”

  “Maybe he didn’t realize I’d gone over the side, once he’d passed me.”

  Maybe. No. He’d absolutely known she’d gone over the side of the mountain. Had to have. Fear gripped her again, seizing her lungs and making her heart trip.

  Oh shit. Here we go again. That morning when she’d set out on her errands, her focus had been on getting her mind off Shane and sex. Off sex with Shane. Now she was back to being reduced to a trembling mass of nerves and fear. And was bashed and bruised on top of it.

  Tears stung her eyes and she squeezed them shut, not wanting to break down and cry in front of Maeve, but a hot tear tracked down her cheekbone and into her hair.

  “Don’t cry, muirnín.” Maeve moved closer and gathered her into a hug. “Don’t cry. You’re okay. You’re okay.”

  “I was starting to feel better,” Keara sobbed. “I had fun at the Dunstans’ last night. And…and…Shane was f-flirting with me.” Maeve’s hand rubbed her back soothingly. “I was th-thinking about sex. Like you wanted. And…then this happens, and now I’m all scared again. Oh. I think I’m going to throw up.”

  She slid from Maeve’s arms and rushed to the bathroom across the hall, fell to her knees in front of the toilet. Saliva accumulated in her mouth and she swallowed repeatedly while her stomach heaved, but nothing actually came up.

  Tears wet her cheeks, and when her stomach settled she reached for the towel hanging above her and dried her face.

  “Okay?” Maeve stood in the doorway, looking drawn and worried.

  Ah hell. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. She climbed to her feet, her whole body aching and tight. “I’m okay.”

  “It’s the concussion,” Maeve said. “In a couple of days you’ll be fine.”

  “Yeah.” But she hadn’t been fine in weeks.

  “I’ll make us some soup for dinner, how’s that? Do you want to go back to bed?”

  “I think I should move around,” Keara said. If she lay around too long her muscles would just tighten up even more. Tiny hammers swung in her head but she followed Maeve to the kitchen. While Maeve bustled about heating up soup, Keara found a box of soda crackers and munched on a couple, hoping that would help her stomach. She hadn’t eaten all day and had been taking strong pain meds, which could also be making her feel sick.

  This had to stop. She could not go on this way. She’d gone from prickly fear and pervading anxiety to numb and lethargic, then to annoyed—hey, it was better than dead—and yes, turned-on, and was now full circle back at clawing panic. She focused on taking in slow, regular breaths.

  Why did this have to happen now? Was her mind playing tricks on her and making her think someone did this to her deliberately? It was just like the break-in at her condo all over again. She’d sworn someone had been out there, but the police were equally certain no one had been. That her paranoid imagination had just taken off. And now it had again.

  Her stomach tightened and as Maeve slid a bowl of soup onto the table in front of her, she peered down at it in dismay. She picked up her spoon, knew she should eat, but felt repulsed and her stomach protested.

  “You should eat something,” Maeve murmured, taking a seat at the table.

  “I know I should.” She dipped her spoon into the creamy bowl. “What is it? Cream of mushroom?”

  “My special mushroom chowder.”

  Keara tasted it. “It’s delicious.” She ate another spoonful. And another. “I don’t think Shane believed me.”

  Maeve met her eyes. “He said there was no reason not to believe you. But they won’t likely be able to find the person unless there’s some kind of evidence.”

  “I know.” She huffed out a breath. “Asshole.”

  “I’m going to assume you’re talking about the other driver and not Shane.”

  A little snort of laughter escaped her. “No, I wasn’t talking about Shane. He was very nice to me today. A little bossy, but nice.”

  “He was worried about you.”

  “Well.” Keara lowered her gaze to her soup again. “He doesn’t even know me. Really. He doesn’t need to worry about me.”

  “You said he was flirting with you.”

  Keara sucked in her bottom lip. “Oh. Yeah. I don’t know what got into him.”

  “You’re a pretty girl. Why wouldn’t he flirt with you?”

  Keara laughed. “I’m not going to talk about this.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m okay, Maeve. I’ll be moving a bit slow for a day or two, but I’m okay. This was just a stupid accident.

  Even as she said it, her face grew hot and tight and her throat closed up. She blinked at stinging tears, feeling as if her world was spinning out of control. If she didn’t even have control of her mind, if her brain could play tricks on her like it had been, what did that mean? How could she control anything?

  She looked at Maeve and blinked back the tears. “I didn’t tell you exactly why I came here.”

  Maeve regarded her solemnly. “Well, I knew it wasn’t for a holiday.”

  “No.” Keara gripped her hands together in her lap. “The robbery shook me up.”

  “It would shake anyone up, going through something like that.”

  “But it seems to have affected me…a lot.” She rubbed the back of one hand across her nose. “I’ve been off work ever since the robbery. I was seeing a psychologist. They told me I had to, to deal with the trauma. I was supposed to go back to work last week, on Monday. Two days before I called you, I had gone in to work for a visit. I…had some kind of strange episode. Apparently it was a panic attack. Just slightly humiliating.” She struggled to get the words out, hating the way her voice was all shaky and pathetic. “And then, the night before I called you, I thought someone tried to break into my condo.”

  “Oh no.” Maeve’s eyes widened and she set down her spoon.

  “Except, it was nothing. I called the police and they came and it was all very embarrassi
ng, but there was nothing there. My nerves were still shot from the robbery thing.” She swallowed. “Then I was terrified to stay there alone. That’s why I came here.”

  She twisted her trembling fingers tightly. “Now this happens. And I did it again. Let my nerves get to me. I probably thought that SUV was closer than it was, and I panicked and overreacted and…I could have killed myself. I’m just glad nobody else was with me.”

  “Oh, muirnín.” Maeve’s face softened and she stood up and held out her arms. “Come here and give me a hug.”

  Keara stood, muscles aching, and stepped into Maeve’s embrace. She held onto her aunt, let her hold her, soothe her.

  “It will be okay,” Maeve murmured.

  Keara gathered up everything she had and stepped out of Maeve’s arms. She had no right to dump this on her poor old great-aunt, no right to worry Maeve, when she was just being silly.

  “Yes, I’ll be okay,” she agreed with a tight smile. “Actually this week I was feeling pretty good. I had fun last night at Dunstans’. And then flirting with Shane kind of took my mind off things.”

  Maeve drew back and smiled at her. “See? I was right. Sex is what you need. A good round of hot, shake-the-bed sex.”

  The sound that emerged from Keara’s throat was half laugh, half sob. “Maybe you are right,” she said, dragging her fingers across wet eyes. “But now it’s going to have to wait until all these bruises are gone.”

  “Perhaps.” Maeve returned to her chair and picked up her spoon again. “Eat your soup. And tell me about the robbery. Maybe it will help to talk about it.”

  “I talked about it to the psychologist.” Keara obediently lifted her spoon. “I don’t need to talk about it anymore.”

  “Well, I’m not a psychologist, but people tell me I’m a good listener. And keeping stuff inside you isn’t healthy.”

  So Keara talked as she ate her soup, telling Maeve about the robbery and the hostage-taking. She didn’t tell her everything. Because some things were just too awful to even think, never mind tell someone else. Because she didn’t want Maeve to be disgusted with her, to know the whole thing had been her fault. She kept that part of the incident closed away in a partitioned-off part of her brain, where she didn’t have to examine it or deal with it.