Temple of Indra's Curse (Time-Traveling Bibliophile Book 2)

by Rachael Stapleton

  Part of me wanted to beg him to put his arms around me and hold me tight, but even as I glanced in his direction, a quiver of fear shot through me.

  We came to a full stop and I slid out, tripping three times as I hurried inside while Cullen paid the driver. I was just slipping a nightgown over my head as he came into the bedroom.

  “Flannel? What’s this?” he asked mockingly.

  He’d unbuttoned his shirt and my gaze perused his abs all the way down to the top of his jeans.

  I gave him a modest smile, slid my feet into the white padded slippers and then tripped over his foot as I tried to lurch past him into the hall.

  I landed at his feet. My cheeks burned. He reached down to help me up and managed somehow to pin me to the wall as he did so. He was much taller than me, and my hands reached out to feel his hard chest muscles. We had such great chemistry; I didn’t want to face the fact that he could be the man obsessed enough with me to kill me.

  “Ye’re ossified, luv. I’ll help ye.”

  “Ossafff…I’m not drunk. I drink wine all the time. I’m just buzzed.”

  His face was close to mine, his fiery green gaze hot and probing. The stubble on his face was a mixture of red, brown, and silver and gave his face such a rugged look. And his smell, especially from this close range, was intoxicating.

  “Were you going to get a glass of wine?”

  “No, I was going to grab some water and aspirin.”

  I glanced to my right; we were by the study door. Anger flashed in my belly.

  “Sophia-luv, is something wrong?”

  “Did you kill Nick?” I blurted, turning around to face him. It wasn’t what I’d meant to say; it just slipped out of my mouth.

  Cullen looked around as if he expected candid camera to jump out. His muscles glistened in the eerie, low lighting of the hall. Did he have to look so damn attractive right now?

  “How can ye ask me such a ridiculous question?”

  Too late to backtrack now. I stomped into the study, flicked on the lamp and pulled open the drawer.

  “I found this today,” I said, trying to sound very sober.

  “What—” Cullen began.

  “The matchbook with Nick’s flat number on it. This one,” I said, tossing it at him. My voice rose; it was as if something inside me had torn open, and everything was pouring out, all my fears, all my pent-up rage. “Do you want to explain how it got in your desk? And don’t bother playing stupid.”

  “Stupid, am I?” he snapped back. “Well I’ve never seen this wee book before, but it’s really nice to hear that ye got it from yer ex. A tidbit of news ye forgot to share, I see.”

  “Oh please—it wasn’t like that. He gave it to me and I never planned to use it. I thought I lost it. Now I know you took it.”

  “I did no such thing. Anyway, I’m not the only one who’s been in here, maybe someone found the matchbook on the floor somewhere and tucked it away. Not everything is all sinister, ye know.”

  Despite his words, his face still looked dark and angry.

  “I…I really need to get some water and go to bed.”

  “I’ll carry ye.” He stepped toward me.

  “Don’t touch me,” I protested. The room was spinning.

  I opened my eyes and realized I had reached out to him and was now clutching his shirt. I let it go and took a step back. “Are you going to try to tell me that you didn’t threaten Nick that day in the kitchen?”

  “The kitchen. Sophia, I was trying to protect ye.” His eyes burned.

  “Well, maybe the person I need protection from is you!” My voice cracked. “And since when are you interested in reading up on my family?” I pointed to his bookshelf.

  “Sophia,” Cullen said, “I have no idea what ye’r goin’ on about—”

  “Gigi’s cousin,” I said. “Ann Switzer—my cousin who was murdered fifteen years ago after writing about our family and the Purple Delhi Sapphire.”

  Shocked speechless, Cullen stared at me. “Switzer,” he said finally. “Yes, ye’r right. I do know the name, but it’s not what ye think—”

  “You didn’t kill her and keep the book as some sick token?”

  “How can ye say that?” Cullen cried. “I would never hurt some poor lass. Besides, I was only a lad, for goodness sake.”

  “Well, tell me then, Cullen, why is her book on your shelf!” I shouted with vehemence.

  “Someone mailed that book to me. There was no name and no return address. I don’t know who it was for or why it was sent here, and it sure as hell didn’t mean anything to me, which is why I chucked it, or at least I thought I did. Apparently we have wee ghosts pulling things out of the rubbish these days. I had no bloody clue it was even about the Purple Delhi Sapphire or yer family. I thought it was sent here by mistake.”

  “Well, that’s all fine and good, but there’s something else, too.” My voice shook as I said it. Was I really afraid of Cullen?

  “What?”

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  Cullen swore and moved fast, scooping me up and propelling me into the bathroom connected to our bedroom.

  “Let me help you.”

  “No.”

  I managed to push him out of the bathroom. My stomach rumbled and I just made it to the toilet in time.

  Afterward, I felt much better although I knew I was in for a nasty hangover in the morning. I drenched my face in cold water and rinsed out my mouth before brushing my teeth.

  “Sophia!”

  Cullen was tapping on the door.

  “I’m all right,” I said, coming into the bedroom and sitting down on the side of the bed.

  He nodded, still watching me. Then he walked to me and my heart started to thud. I hated the fact that even now, just watching him, I wanted to feel his hands all over me. We had entirely too much chemistry, and I had had entirely too much to drink.

  He kneeled in front of me and put his hands on my thighs. My flesh burned. My heart was pounding way too loud. I turned my head to look away from him. I could see he’d got me a glass of water and two small white pills. He was so thoughtful. How could he be a cold-blooded killer? I tilted my chin back toward him. His eyes were steady.

  “I know ye're mad at me luv, but I was told to never go to bed angry.”

  He got to his feet, leaned forward, and kissed my forehead.

  I wanted to leave it at that. I should have just waited for morning, but I wasn’t thinking clearly.

  “Nick left me a letter.”

  His gaze was locked on me.

  I swallowed. “He said he hired a private investigator to look into your life. He said you raped someone but the cops couldn’t prove it, and that you were suspected in the death of another.”

  Cullen took a step away from me. “Oh, I did all that, did I? And ye believe him over me? And when did I supposedly do all this?” he demanded tersely. His voice was now louder than mine.

  I stared at him, irritated to realize that I was trembling. “I don’t know.” I was crying now. “I just caught words and phrases. I didn’t read it all yet, but that was the gist of it.”

  “Well, where is this scandalous letter? Let’s have at it.”

  “I gave it—” I stopped speaking.

  His eyes narrowed. Heat seemed to radiate from his bronzed chest. “So that’s what ye two were lookin’ all serious about after dinner. What, does Penelope think I’m a mad rapist too?”

  I moistened my lips. “I don’t know. You came along and we didn’t get a chance to talk. But don’t change the subject. Even if Nick was making up half that stuff, it’s easy enough to uncover the truth and there must be some basis to it. So tell me the truth, were you ever committed to a hospital?”

  A light flashed in his eyes, like I’d hit a nerve. He got chillingly calm. It was a calm that reminded me of the time I poured hot tea into a glass, not realizing it would crack and burn me. His face was expressionless, but those fiery green eyes looked as if his false composure migh
t give at any time.

  “Go to bed, Sophia!”

  What was I thinking, confronting him like this?

  My phone rang; it was Leslie. I stood and pushed past him into the bathroom, contemplating answering it, but instead I let it go to voicemail. When I turned around Cullen had stormed out of the bedroom and I could hear him descending the stairs. It was probably better that way—let him cool down. My body shuddered. We’d had a few drinks at the restaurant and fighting when alcohol was involved was never a smart idea.

  My phone pinged and I looked down at the incoming text. It was from Les. She was probably packing for her flight. At least I’d get to see her soon. She was arriving early in the morning.

  Have you seen Twitter?

  No. I quickly typed back.

  Bexx Senior’s been brought in for questioning. Rumour is he’s a suspect.

  I started to text her back. And then it occurred to me that maybe Bexx Senior had written the letter…maybe he’d sent the book. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense, but what if he was framing Cullen or even me?

  I ran after Cullen just as his truck started up, but by the time I got to the door, all I saw were the circular orbs of his taillights surrounded by the darkness of night.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  The Cookie Crumbles

  Ann invaded my sleep once again. She haunted my subconscious. I wanted to wake, but couldn’t. Strange how I always knew that I was dreaming. I kept seeing her fighting for her life. Blonde hair caked with blood and still she fought, but I could never tell with whom. It was someone familiar but the closer I got, the more distant he grew. I needed to follow up with Garda Connelly to see if there was a connection. Maybe I shouldn’t want to wake. Maybe I needed to pay attention for once.

  Ann was now floating like a ghost, leading me through the underground tunnel beneath the Colley property. We exited and were in the graveyard outside of the church. She was trying to tell me something, trying to warn me. I strained to hear her, to listen. Ann kept floating away. I followed.

  She’d led me to someone’s front door. I knew this door…

  I woke with a start, shaking. I knew that door. It had come to me at the last second. Was it the killer’s door? Was it Cullen’s door? The harder I tried to remember, the less I could.

  There was light in the room. I’d forgotten to close the drapes, and rosy illumination bled in. I looked to the other side of the bed but it was still made, with no sign of Cullen.

  My stomach dropped. “Oh lord, what have I done?”

  I grabbed my cell to call him. Where was it? Not anywhere around here, might as well get some coffee. Hell, coffee had to be an improvement over this. Surely Tylenol would help, too. Hadn’t Cullen gotten me some? I couldn’t remember taking it.

  I started the coffee to brew and sat back on the couch. A merciless drumming beat in my head—or wait a minute—was someone at the door?

  Leslie and the makeup artist peered and waved through the glass. Was it that time already? My hair was a wild mess, my robe was tied off kilter, my feet were bare, and I hadn’t even brushed my teeth.

  I rushed to open it—well I moved as fast as possible without falling over. “I’m so sorry. I slept in.”

  Leslie took one look at me and motioned for Aedeen to go get set up upstairs. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

  I followed Leslie into the kitchen and plopped down at the table as she pulled bread from the refrigerator and popped it in the toaster. As the bread toasted, she poured us each a mug of coffee and ran one upstairs for Aedeen. The toast popped just as she returned and she set it in front of me with a knife and a container of butter. Then she grabbed some cookies from the jar before taking a seat across from me.

  Now that the toast was in front of me and I could smell the enticing aroma of coffee, I was starving. I picked up the toast and attacked it with more gusto than I would have thought possible when I was entrenched on the couch. Leslie gave me a pleased nod and bit into one of the cookies.

  “These are great,” she said. “You couldn’t have possibly made these.”

  “Toffee, chocolate, something or other,” I said in between bites. “Lucille brought them over. She bought them from some new bakery downtown.”

  Leslie took another bite. “She’s awesome. I need the name of that bakery.”

  “And cheat on the Storybook Café? I’m shocked.”

  She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m all about spreading the love.”

  “So what’s up?” Leslie asked. “I got seven texts from you last night when my plane landed but you didn’t respond back and they were not exactly comprehendible. Something about Cullen—you need me to beat some sense into him for you?”

  I felt a tingling of warmth run across my skin. Leslie always had my back.

  “You know I appreciate the thought,” I said, “but I think this time I was in the wrong. I just hope I haven’t done too much damage.”

  Leslie took another bite of her cookie. “Tell me what happened?”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Tea is for Terrorize

  I sat perfectly still as the makeup artist reapplied one of my wayward lashes. She’d just gotten it into place when my phone, which I’d thankfully found in the bathroom, buzzed.

  “Cullen,” I gasped, almost knocking the glue from the woman’s hand.

  “Sophia.”

  Momentary disappointment filled me as I realized it wasn’t him.

  “Lucille? You almost here? It’s almost your turn for makeup.”

  “Sorry, love. We’re runnin’ a little behind. Móraí was late rollin’ out of bed this morning. Poor thing, she’s still not feeling well. Could ye send the girl over to her place and I’ll meet her there.”

  I cupped the phone to relay the message.

  “Sure, but have you spoken to Cullen this morning?”

  “No, why? What’s happened?”

  “Nothing. Everything’s great,” I said, wanting to kick myself. I needed to change the subject. “Is Móraí going to be all right to join us? I didn’t even know she was sick.”

  “It’s nothin’ contagious. She just hasn’t been able to shake this cold since she got back from the trip. Must have been that fresh mountain air of yers.”

  “Mountain air of mine?” I repeated almost in sync with shouting in the background.

  I could hear Lucille cup her hand over the phone. “Oh, just a minute, John!” She addressed me again. “Sorry, dear. What did ye say?”

  “When did Móraí go to the mountains?”

  “Um, with you and Cullen last month. She and Liam were headed to Montreal. Wasn’t that where ye’s were?”

  “Yes, but they weren’t with us.”

  “Oh well,” Lucille said and then paused, mumbling to John. “I guess we just assumed they were joinin’ ye. Anyway, I think the cold has moved into her chest, but she won’t see the doctor.” Lucille paused again and I heard someone calling her name. “I’m sorry, Sophia, I’ve got to go. John can’t find somethin’. He probably tossed it. Men… We’ll see you at the rehearsal.”

  She hung up and I glanced back down at my cell. Cullen still hadn’t returned any of my calls or texts.

  “I just need to finish a couple of things and then I’ll be on my way.” Aedeen interjected as if realizing I’d forgotten she was still there.

  “Sure. I just need to do one more thing.”

  If Cullen was calling off the wedding then I needed to know.

  Cullen, I know you’re still upset. I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please call me.

  My phone vibrated a second later.

  All is brilliant, Aeval. I apologize if I had ye worrit. I’m just on my way back. I was lookin’ after somethin’ in Dundrum and I didn’t have service on the mobile but I’ll be to dinner on time. Tá grá agam duit. How ya feelin’?

  My heart flip-flopped as I read it.

  I feel as if my entire body has a headache, but I’m so relieved to hear from you and I love you too
. I just had the weirdest conversation with your Ma. Did you know they thought Móraí and Liam were on vacation with us in Tremblant?

  Daphne, who’d been quietly curled in my lap, jumped down and began pawing frantically at the door just as my phone began ringing in my hand.

  “Cullen? That was quick.”

  “Sorry to bother ye, Ms. Marcil. It’s Garda Connelly.”

  “No problem,” I said, getting up to let the cat out.

  “We need to talk.”

  “Is it about Ann? Was I right about how she died? The details I mean.”

  He hesitated.

  “Ye were correct. She died fighting her attacker and she was found lyin’ in a pool of blood just as ye described, but this isn’t about—” He hesitated and then let out a heavy sigh, as if deciding how much to tell me. “There’s been another discovery.”

  “Tonight is our rehearsal dinner. Do I need to come in?”

  I contemplated asking him if this was about Bexx Senior’s involvement, but a whir of noise in the background prevented me from speaking and I could have sworn I heard a female voice whisper Cullen’s name.

  “Ye’re not with Mr. O’Kelley, are you?”

  “No. Why?”

  “All right. I’ll call you back.”

  He clicked off.

  I glanced at the time; the rehearsal was set to start at three p.m.

  “You seem upset; do you hate your makeup, or is it your hair?” Aedeen asked, running the thin edge of her brush across my lips.

  It tickled and I instinctively twitched my fingers, almost reaching to wipe it away.

  “No, goodness no. It’s amazing. I’m still a little headachy.” I closed my eyes. “I’m probably just tired, not to mention Penelope should have been here by now.”

  “One of the bridesmaids?” Aedeen questioned.

  “Yes.”

  A knock sounded at the door.