In the Mists of Time

by Marie Treanor

  “What did you do?” she blurted. “To go to prison?”

  “I stole some money,” he said, his eyes steady on the road. “Well, a lot of money.”

  “You don’t seem much like a bank robber.”

  “I’m not. They call it fraud. I embezzled a few million from an insurance company.”

  Questions crowded into Louise’s mind, but the one that spilled out was “Why?”

  “Because I could.”

  She looked at his face, steady and expressionless as he gazed only at the road ahead. “There’s more to it than that.”

  “Everyone has reasons for what they do. They’re not necessarily valid reasons to anyone else, let alone to the law of the land.”

  Although she waited, he didn’t elaborate. She let it go, asking instead, “Was Ron looking for the money you embezzled?”

  “I gave most of it back, which is why I got a lighter sentence.”

  “Most of it?” she pounced.

  A smile flickered on his lips. “I spent a few thousand euros first. Interesting, though, that Ron’s in insurance. Or says he is.”

  “Aidan’s looking into him,” Louise said. “Because of Nicole.” She scowled. “Doesn’t his behaviour seem bizarre to you? Assaulting a local girl who, admittedly, most people don’t pay much attention to. And then sneaking around your caravan? All while he’s supposed to be on a fishing holiday! Is there really no connection between you and Nicole?”

  He shrugged. “None that I know of. Maybe his actions aren’t related. Separate incidents.”

  Like Thierry making love to her in the mist, and then fixing her computer? The elephant in the car…

  “Why does no one pay much attention to Nicole?” he asked unexpectedly.

  “Because she’s a bit strange, a bit different. Or has a reputation for being so. Actually, she’s no odder than anyone else. She’s just a bit…withdrawn.”

  He spared her a glance. “But you pay attention to her.”

  “Never had any reason to,” Louise muttered, slightly ashamed. “Until we saw her in the mist and I realized she was really upset. She thinks no one will believe her, including the police.”

  “So you and Aidan are investigating instead?”

  Louise flung him a crooked smile. “Well, I asked Aidan to speak to her. He has a gift for that kind of thing.”

  He nodded, as if that was already understood.

  She said, “You don’t seem very worried that Ron was poking around your caravan. You didn’t even check to see if he’d taken anything.”

  “I’ve nothing worth taking. Apart from my laptop and some computer bits. And, frankly, I don’t think anyone’s daft enough to steal from Ardknocken House.”

  “Ron was daft enough to break in,” she retorted.

  “True,” he agreed.

  Since he was obviously going to say nothing more on the subject, she left it, for now, gazing out the window instead. The sun was still trying to come out, breaking through a few clouds to reflect its light on the sea. An oil tanker bobbed in the distance. A few small boats trailed in the wake of an island cruise ship.

  “Have you always lived in Ardknocken?” Thierry asked.

  “Yes. Same house, same village.”

  “I like it,” Thierry said with simplicity that sounded genuine.

  “It’s home.” She glanced at him again. It was hard not to look, to enjoy the dark, hard male beauty. Butterflies danced in her stomach, dragging curiosity in their wake. “What about you? Where are you from?”

  “A village not unlike yours, in Brittany. Northern France.”

  “What brought you to this country?”

  “Extradition,” he said dryly.

  “Oh. Will you go home?”

  “It isn’t home anymore.”

  “You don’t have family there still?”

  “Not really.”

  He didn’t want to talk about it. Fair enough. She gazed out the window instead, at the still-bare trees, looking for signs of spring. It wasn’t every day, she thought, that attractive men regarded her as more worthy of a fuck than a confidence. Normally it was the other way around. She supposed on one level, it was flattering.

  “I’m not really persona grata,” he said in a rush. “Now, about this elephant.”

  Surprised, she whipped round to stare at him, but he kept his gaze on the winding road.

  “As I see it, we were both a little rash—for which I apologise—and overwhelmed, and, judging by your reaction since, it was out of character for both of us. With all that, I don’t regret an instant unless you do. For me, it was beautiful, and even if you never look at me again, I’ll remember every detail forever.”

  “Why would you look at me again?” she retorted, discounting her desire to believe his words. “Except for what happened on the hill. You never looked at me before—”

  “Yes, I did,” he interrupted. “I saw you.”

  Although he didn’t elaborate, his words made her flush. To cover the silly pleasure, she looked away, out the window once more.

  “We had unprotected sex,” she said abruptly.

  “That, I am sorry for. I’ve never known such urgency that I forget such things. If it makes you feel better, you are the only time I haven’t used protection. Ever.”

  Her flush intensifying as memories invaded, she cast him a very fugitive glance. “Likewise,” she muttered. There had been only Dave in the last two years anyway, and even so, the sex had hardly been frequent in his brief forays north from Glasgow. It had been safe, though, and just a little…dull.

  “Then we are at least safe,” Thierry said encouragingly. “And as consenting adults, surely that’s all we need to worry about.”

  She nodded doubtfully.

  “Apart,” he added, “from me having been in prison for three years, and you can’t trust the word of a dishonest man.”

  She kept her eyes on his face. “You wouldn’t be at Ardknocken House if you were dishonest.”

  * * * * *

  Thierry was right. The conversation did clear the air. They had coffee together in Mallaig and talked enough for her to learn his quirky and rather charming sense of humour. Afterwards, it was oddly fun going around the supermarket with him too, and she helped him carry his small mountain of shopping back to the car. As she heaved one bag out of the trolley, it burst, spilling its contents over the carpark.

  “Damn,” she said. Crouching down, she gathered up the fallen items and distributed them through the other bags, which Thierry stashed in the boot before bending to catch her hand and pull her to her feet.

  “I’ll get the rest,” he said. But his eyes had darkened, and the warmth of his body so close to hers gave her a little frisson of pleasure. She was very conscious of his fingers on her hand, remembering what they’d done to her before, what she wanted very badly for them to do again. His gaze dipped to her lips and her breath caught.

  “Thanks,” she muttered, pulling free and walking round to the passenger door. As she got in and went through the motions of fastening her seat belt, she realized her hands were shaking, even from that tiny incident. I want him. I still want him…

  She kept her face averted as he climbed in beside her. He sat very still until, reluctantly, she turned her head.

  He said, “I want to kiss you. And either you’re terrified of me, or you want it too.”

  Something that wasn’t quite laughter caught in her throat. “I don’t think it’s you I’m frightened of.”

  He reached one hand towards her, and after a moment’s hesitation, she placed hers into it. His fingers closed. He lifted her hand to his lips, and from him, somehow, the gesture seemed both natural and sexy. She shivered.

  He said, “We don’t have to fall into the back of the car or screw at the roadside. Would you like to have dinner?”
<
br />   She felt her eyes widen. “I have to get back. Cerys is leaving early to make up for last night.” She’d no idea if he even knew what she was talking about.

  A smile flickered in his eyes. “I didn’t mean right now. Maybe on Friday? We could go to Oban, if you like?”

  Wow. A proper date. Away from Ardknocken. No one had to know, if they could only sneak away separately. “I’ll need to speak to Aidan,” she said breathlessly.

  His eyebrows shot up. “You need his permission?”

  Her laughter was slightly shaky. “God, no. But we can’t leave my parents. They’re too frail, and Cerys always has plans on a Friday.”

  “Is that a yes? Conditional on the parent sitter?”

  She gave him a quick smile by way of an answer. Unexpectedly, he leaned across and kissed her lips, a soft, gentle brush that deprived her of what breath she seemed to have left. It was over in an instant, but without thought, she reached up to his stubbly cheek and he met her gaze for a long, searching moment before his eyes fell once more to the region of her mouth, and her stomach dived.

  She parted her lips in invitation, even tilted her head, and slowly, maddeningly slowly, he closed the distance between them once more and covered her mouth with his. She felt like sobbing with relief, shouting with joy, except his mouth distracted her with the most compelling kiss she could ever remember. Not urgent or forceful, but slow and sexy, exploring with tongue and lips, seducing her senses, melting her bones.

  Her fingers slid over his rough cheek to his hair, tangling, caressing, as she kissed him back, opening wider to him, stroking the length of his tongue with hers. His teeth grazed softly against the inside of her lips as he deepened the kiss, sparking pleasure through her whole body. Her breasts ached to be pressed to him, to be fondled and caressed. Farther down, the moisture of arousal pooled between her thighs. She never wanted this amazing kiss to end, and yet to have sex like this, so slow and sensual…to feel his mouth on her everywhere, to have him inside her…slow, delicious sex…

  His hand cupped her cheek as he came up for air. Dazedly, she opened her eyes and found his clouded, as they’d been in the mist. His thumb moved, caressing her lips.

  “Slow is good too,” he said huskily. And then his hands fell away as he straightened and started the car.

  Louise swallowed. She’d never been so turned on from a mere kiss. She wanted to jump him in the supermarket carpark, or tell him to drive straight to a hotel. Or just stop by a roadside ditch. She wouldn’t feel the cold any more than she had on the misty hill two days ago.

  But she said nothing, just sat beside him, watching his capable hands turn the wheel and shift gears while her lips, her whole body, tingled from his kiss. And that was nice too.

  * * * * *

  As they approached Ardknocken, Thierry said casually, “I can build your computer up at the house if that’s easier. Or I can do it at yours, get your files off the old computer for safekeeping while I’m building the new one.”

  “The faster the better, I suppose.”

  “Okay. I can come down later this afternoon.”

  “Thanks,” she said breathlessly.

  As Thierry drew to a halt at the B&B, she said, “Don’t get out. I’ll grab my bags from the boot.”

  The village would see her get out of the car, but with luck, they wouldn’t register who was in it. She’d conducted romances in the village spotlight before. In Ardknocken, there wasn’t really another way to do it, but she was determined that this, whatever this was with Thierry, would be as private as she could make it. She still smarted from all the people who’d asked her about Dave the television cameraman after he’d stopped coming.

  It didn’t strike her until she’d put the key in the door that what she’d actually wanted to do before she got out was lean over and kiss him again. A promise. Oh yes.

  What the hell am I doing? she thought wildly. And that was before she found Aidan waiting for her in the living room.

  “Aidan,” she said in surprise, dropping her bags on the floor. “I thought you’d be down at the cottage.”

  “I was and I will be,” Aidan replied. He sat on the sofa opposite their napping parents, his laptop open on his crossed knee. “I let Cerys go early, since I was around. Thought you’d like to know there’s no whisper of sexual misconduct against our Ron. On the other hand—”

  “On the other hand, he broke into Thierry’s caravan up at the big house,” Louise blurted. “We have to get rid of this guy.”

  “Maybe. I’d certainly keep the doors locked.”

  “He actually asked me where Nicole lived.”

  Aidan frowned, pushing the computer onto the sofa beside him. “Really? I wonder if Nicole’s not telling us the whole truth? Surely he can’t be as unperceptive as that.”

  “Unperceptive? Seems he is! As well as being a creep.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why? What did you find out about him?” She threw her jacket over a chair and walked towards him.

  “He’s a private investigator,” Aidan said wryly. “Like me. Reputable firm, retained by a large insurance company, which is where virtually all their work comes from.”

  “Maybe he’d be happier in some sleazy resort for his holidays,” Louise muttered.

  “He isn’t on holiday,” Aidan said. “He’s working. The insurance company that’s paying him is London and Scottish Life, based in Edinburgh. They’re the guys Thierry Duplessis ripped off.”

  Louise sat down too fast, staring at her brother. “But he’s done his time, hasn’t he? He gave the money back.”

  “Most of it,” Aidan agreed. “But London and Scottish think there’s more. There was another fraud, one they can’t even link to him positively, but they’re sure he did it and they want that money back.”

  The silly fantasy she’d been creating began to crumble around her ears. It felt a bit like the world falling in on her. She stared at Aidan. “Do you believe them? Or do you still trust Thierry?”

  Aidan shifted uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t put this past him. A second fraud with the first as cover would be quite in character. They called him Frog because he could jump out of trouble, you know, not because he was French.”

  “But Chrissy wouldn’t be okay with that,” Louise said. “Neither would Glenn. This could wreck everything they’re trying to do at Ardknocken House. Doesn’t Thierry know that? Wouldn’t he care?”

  “I don’t really know Thierry,” Aidan said. “Glenn says the story’s shite but won’t elaborate. If he knows.”

  Louise gave an unhappy smile. “I never thought I’d say that Glenn was too trusting.” Or me, or me…

  “I feel impelled to save him from himself,” Aidan said ruefully. “Look, I don’t trust Ron and I certainly don’t like him. I’ve got my own best people chasing the lost money now, but to be frank, I don’t back any of them against Thierry. The guy’s a legend in his own field.”

  “What can we do?” Her lips felt stiff.

  “I don’t have a cover to investigate from,” Aidan said, his gaze steady on hers. “But you do.”

  The words sang in her ears like a death knell for the excitement, the pleasure she’d begun to anticipate in Thierry’s company.

  “What makes you say that?” she managed.

  “The word at the big house is that he likes you. Chrissy says you like him, though she’s tight-lipped on detail.”

  “So she bloody should be. You want me to spy on him.”

  “I’m suggesting you try to find out what the hell—if anything—he’s up to, before he ends up back in clink and the Ardknocken project is shut down.”

  Chapter Six

  Louise stared at her brother with hostility. “Who do you think I am? Mata Hari? I can’t pretend if my life depends on it. Which it probably does. Got over the protective-brother bit?”

  “No,” Aidan said steadily
. “But I’ve been around Thierry enough to know he isn’t violent. Glenn agrees. He won’t hurt you, Louise. I wouldn’t let him in the house if I thought there was the tiniest risk of that.”

  Louise jumped up, waving one irritated hand in dismissal. “Risk isn’t the point. I can’t do ‘undercover’. I’m always just boring old Louise.”

  “Then it’s as well he likes boring old Louise.”

  “Yes, well, he doesn’t like me enough to tell me the truth.” If Aidan was right, then Thierry had already lied to her. If Aidan was right, Thierry was not the man she’d imagined him to be. And, frankly, imagination was all there was: she’d just wanted to think the best of the man she’d inexplicably fucked senseless in the mist, without even knowing his name. The man she had a date with on Friday night, who gave her butterflies just by thinking about him. Who’d kissed her so stunningly only an hour ago.

  Aidan said, “Besides, the best covers are natural ones.”

  “Well, what’s natural for me is that I ask him if he did it,” Louise retorted.

  “If that works,” Aidan said steadily, “do it. I trust your judgment.”

  She stared at him as he closed the laptop and got to his feet. He wouldn’t trust her if he knew what had already happened between her and Thierry. And he shouldn’t. He’d no idea the position he’d put her in.

  “I think Ron’s back,” he said, stuffing the computer into his bag and swinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll just go up and have a word before I go.”

  When he’d left, Louise set about some serious housework, which helped her work off her anger with both Aidan and Thierry, and gave her space to think.

  Reluctantly, she had to admit that Aidan was right. For the sake of Chrissy and Glenn and the others who depended on the Ardknocken House project, even for Thierry himself, they had to know why London and Scottish were after him and what the consequences of their investigation could be.