Finding the Magic

by Cait Miller

  The door behind him opened and Jayne sailed past him, dressed now in black trousers and an ugly green shirt. Her hair tied back, hanging in a long ponytail down her back. She seemed completely oblivious to his presence. She had put him out of her mind, her thoughts now filled with her job. He didn’t like the fact that she might be able to do that when he was struggling to do the same. Heels clicking on the hardwood flooring, she walked to the hallway closet and pulled out a black coat. He reached for her, shackling her wrist with his hand, angry green eyes snapped at him but Cameron paid them no mind. The instant he touched her, every thought vanished from his head and all he was aware of was the softness of her skin and the warm pounding of her pulse beneath it. She pulled out of his grip and shrugged into her jacket.

  “I have to go to work.”

  Shaken by his reaction to just that small touch, it was a moment before he responded. “I’m going with you.”

  She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “You need to be protected.”

  “Cameron, I understand that you’re concerned but I’m only going to work. In a supermarket, not a combat zone. Though, admittedly, it can feel like it when the sales are on. I think I’ll survive.”

  “No, Jayne, I dinnae think you understand. These people, whoever they are, dinnae play around. The missing people I told you about were all taken when they were alone, going about their daily lives. No warning, just gone. No trace of them has been found. I am going with you. Besides, it’s a public place. You cannae stop me.”

  He followed as she turned her back to him and marched out the door. “Fine,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “But if you get me fired…” Her threat trailed off ominously and Cameron’s teeth flashed in a rare smile. She was…a challenge.

  Chapter Three

  Jayne handed the credit card and receipt back to her customer with a smile that faded the instant the woman walked away. For about the hundredth time since she had sat down at the checkout point, her gaze drifted toward the wide storefront window. Yep, he was still there. His blond hair shone in the patch of sunlight where he stood, leaning against the wall of the building across the street. Watching her with unnerving intensity.

  She had ignored his presence as she walked to work, pretending she couldn’t feel him just behind her all the way. While she marched through the shop to the staff room, he had prowled through the shop, looking, she assumed, for any threat. Then with a long heated glance, he had walked out of the store and across the street to stand with what looked like endless patience in his current spot. Jayne swore that every female in the place had sighed longingly as the door had shut behind him. Including herself.

  He nodded at her and she looked away quickly. Searching for a distraction in the now quiet store, she was relieved to see Linda approaching from the direction of the manager’s office. There was a sympathetic expression on her colleague’s face. It was enough to tell Jayne she was not going to like whatever Mr. Harrison had said. The little weed.

  “Jayne, I know it’s a hassle but the boss wants you to switch places with me and work in the stockroom today. I’m really sorry.”

  And she was. Linda knew as well as she did just why Frank wanted her there.

  Privacy.

  Jayne had thought—no, hoped—that her threat of sexual harassment charges had been enough to finally discourage him. He hadn’t touched her since then. She should have realized it wouldn’t last, creeps like him never changed. It wasn’t a route she really wanted to take, it would probably mean losing her job. They couldn’t fire her for it, even if he was the owner’s son. She doubted she could continue to work here though. Much as she hated to admit it, Harrison was right. There was a stigma attached to anyone who involved themselves in a sexual harassment case. With a sigh of resignation, she logged off the cashier system.

  The stockroom was essentially a large warehouse almost as big as the shop itself. It had a full-sized roll-up door in the rear so that the delivery trucks could be unloaded with ease directly into it. One half was filled with rows of floor-to-ceiling shelves packed with boxes, while the other was taken up by a refrigerated room and a huge freezer room. Jayne hated those and avoided them at all costs. As large as they were, she still felt claustrophobic in them. Both were sealed with large heavy doors and, although she knew they could be opened easily from the inside, she had a fear of being trapped in them. She turned her back on them determinedly and grabbed the clipboard with the inventory list from its hook on the wall. Linda had only checked off the first few items so it was easy to find where she had left off and, within a few moments, Jayne was absorbed in the task.

  She had just reached the end of the first page when she began to feel as though she wasn’t alone. The back of her neck prickled with awareness and the scrape of a shoe on concrete confirmed it. With deliberate casualness, she sat the clipboard on top of the box she had been checking and turned, unsurprised to find Frank Harrison behind her, just a few feet away. Damn, but the man could move quietly when he felt like it.

  He was average height, which made him about an inch shorter than Jayne, more if she wore heels. Which of course she did, just to annoy him. Average build, mid-brown hair, brown eyes, not handsome, not ugly. He was dressed in a mid-range gray suit with a white shirt and a dark blue striped tie. Everything about the man’s appearance was just average. The only thing that set Frank apart was his personality. His total belief was that he was God and everyone else—especially women—were put on this earth for his amusement.

  “Mr. Harrison, is there a problem?”

  He walked toward her, a slight smile on his face. “Now, Jayne, I thought we had progressed beyond last names. Haven’t I told you to call me Frank when we’re alone?”

  Yeah, right. Jayne watched him warily, resisting the impulse to take a step back when he invaded her personal space. He’d love that, a sign that he threatened her. “I’d rather not, Mr. Harrison.”

  His smile broadened. “Well, maybe I can change your mind.” The thick, cloying smell of his aftershave drifted around them, making it all the more difficult to stand her ground. She frowned as his muddy brown eyes drifted down the length of her body then returned to fix on her breasts. Okay, that does it.

  “Mr. Harrison, you are making me uncomfortable. I meant what I said before about taking action against this kind of behavior.”

  He shook his head and laid his hands on the curve of her waist. “I think we both know you’re not going to do that, Jayne. If you were, you’d have done it already.”

  “You know, you’re right.” And the knowledge grated, what kind of coward had she turned into? She straightened to her full height. “But I have decided that I don’t need this job enough to put up with you. I quit.” His eyes widened at the steel in her tone and made her smile, it was a tone he had never heard from her before. “I haven’t decided yet whether to press charges against you but…you know that little place in my letter of resignation where you put reason for leaving…? Now, take your bloody hands off me.” Anxiety flickered briefly over his face before he could hide it. Jayne took a step forward, smile broadening when he stepped back.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and regarded her warily. “You owe us two weeks’ notice.”

  Jayne’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “True, and you owe me four weeks’ holiday pay…but hey, you know I’m not afraid to work. I’ll finish the two weeks before you pay me the four weeks you owe me. It’ll give me a chance to chat with the rest of the girls. Explain the situation to them…”

  Jayne watched as her implied threat registered. He might be able to sweep one lawsuit for sexual harassment under the rug but not half a dozen.

  “I see. Well, perhaps, under the circumstances, it would be agreeable if we were to count your holiday time as your notice. It would mean of course that you would need to leave now.”

  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes as he danced around the issue. “That works for me. Of course, if
one of the girls was unhappy in the future, the situation might change.”

  He glared at her and gave a sharp nod before turning and heading for the door. “I’ll expect your keys on my desk within the hour, Miss Davis.”

  Jayne flipped the bird at his retreating back and when the door clicked shut behind him she threw victorious fists in the air. “Yes! I am back!”

  The sound of a lone pair of hands clapping made her whirl toward the shadows at the back of the room. Cameron. His expression held the remnants of anger and a grudging respect as he walked slowly toward her. He dropped his hands to his sides and nodded toward the door. “Nicely done.”

  She shrugged uncomfortably. “It was past time. How long have you been standing there?”

  “Long enough to know that if he’d touched you again, Ah’d have broken his fingers.” He made the statement so matter-of-factly that she knew he was utterly serious. It reminded her again that this man could be very dangerous if crossed. But not to her, she was certain of it.

  “Well, thanks, but I was doing just fine on my own.” Reality was finally sinking in. She had just become one of the unemployed masses, a first for her. God, Jayne, when you decide to change your life you don’t wait around. What now? She studied the man in front of her. His large, silent presence was strangely comforting. Why not? She ignored the little voice in her head that urged her to retreat back to her flat and the escapism offered by her library. It was time to take the kind of risk she had been hiding from. The kind of risk she had urged her best friend to take a very few months ago.

  “I think I’ve just been hit head on by destiny,” she muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Well, I seem to have some time on my hands.” He didn’t comment, just watched her with his an almost predatory stillness and anticipation in his golden-brown eyes. As though his prey was in sight and it was only a matter of time before it —she—was in his grasp. Come on, Jayne, take the plunge. It should have been frightening but instead, it made her body flush with the heat of arousal. Seven years ago she wouldn’t have hesitated, but that was before she let grief and fear take over her life. He wanted her to go with him and whether she believed she was in some kind of danger or not, wasn’t it better to be safe rather than sorry? You’re rationalizing, Jayne, but so what. She looked at this big, enigmatic stranger and the old Jayne saw adventure there. He had secrets and the anticipation of finding out what they were made her feel…alive.

  “So, what are the Highlands like at this time of the year?”

  Cameron released the breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding, unsure whether he had won the battle or not. He had felt her indecision, heard it in the few thoughts he had picked up. She had agreed to come home with him but he wasn’t sure anymore that it was a good idea. The pull between them was becoming stronger the more time they spent together and it didn’t seem as if Jayne had any intention of resisting it. Yes, she would be safer under his roof. But would he?

  She ignored the curious glances of her colleagues as they walked through the store, stopping only to explain to the dark-haired girl who had replaced her at the checkout. Cam doubted anyone but he could tell she was anything other than calm and relaxed. But he had seen her hesitate before leaving the storeroom, straightening her shoulders and pulling a cloak of serenity around her. It had been difficult not to go to her and wrap his arms around her but he didn’t trust himself. Instead, he only followed as closely behind her as he dared. Offering what support he could while she picked up her coat and bag and dropped the keys on the desk in the deserted manager’s office.

  She had said very little to him as they walked back to her apartment, other than to ask how long a trip to pack for. An answer he had been unable to provide. But instead of fuming at him, Jayne had merely shook her head and smiled wryly and he had felt her resigned amusement. Now he leaned against the wall in the hallway and watched her put clothes into the suitcase on the bed. She had changed into a cream-colored sweater and boot-cut jeans that clung to her ass the way he’d like to. Her low-heeled boots put her at just the right height for him to easily reach that curvy backside if he were to wrap his arms around her. He wondered again what he had gotten himself into. The hair on his arms was standing on end from the energy zinging between them and he doubted he could ever get used to it. Would Murray House, as large as it was, be big enough to escape her? He dragged his gaze away from temptation and focused it on the floor instead.

  Eager for a distraction, he caught a glimpse of something peeking out from under the bed. Jayne breezed past him to the living room, her scent wrapped around him, light and floral. He heard her rustling around in the kitchen and glanced back to the bed, curiosity drawing him. Kneeling, he grasped the corner and drew the object out from its hiding place. It was a painting, an unframed canvas. He blew the light layer of dust from the surface, making his sensitive nose twitch, and studied the picture. A high-quality watercolor of the coastline of the town. It looked as though it might have been painted from the cliff road he had driven along coming here. A sense of light radiated from it, making the scene glow. He knew it would have caught his eye hanging in any gallery. He looked to the bottom corner and was stunned to see the signature J Davis. Jayne painted this? Why would it be hidden under a bed instead of displayed? The only artwork he had seen on the walls of her apartment were modern prints.

  Confused he bent to check under the bed again but there were no more paintings just a large, flat, dusty wooden box. When opened it revealed an array of sealed paint and brushes and other painting and drawing necessities. It had never entered his head that she might be an artist. What would it be like to see all her passion and energy directed at her art? Would she paint for him? Impulsively he closed the box, brushed the dust off and opened Jayne’s suitcase. He slid the box into the bottom under the neatly folded clothes just as he heard her footsteps approach. By the time Jayne entered the room he was standing by the window and the suitcase was closed again.

  “Ready to go?”

  She looked at him, brows lowered in suspicion. “Sure.” He avoided her eyes, picked up the suitcase and followed her out of the apartment. He should just ask her about the painting but something told him she wouldn’t welcome it. There had to be a very good reason why someone so talented had abandoned her work. With that in mind, how was she going to react when she discovered his addition to her suitcase? Cameron winced internally and resolved to be far, far away when she unpacked.

  Chapter Four

  Jayne shifted in the seat of the hunter-green, four-wheel drive and studied the man beside her. Those magnificent amber-colored eyes of his were hidden behind the sunglasses he had donned as soon as they had gotten into the car, shielding his eyes from the winter sun which sat low in the sky and glittered off the wet road surface with eye-watering intensity. He had told her only that it would take about three hours to get to Murray House. Then he had clammed up and had remained stubbornly silent, refusing to be drawn into conversation. Jayne had been left to study the passing scenery. It was a while before she had noticed that the man beside her was paying just as much attention to their surroundings. The realization that he was checking to see if they were being followed had once again reinforced how serious he was about the threat to her.

  They had left the motorway behind about forty minutes ago and joined a narrow country road that wound its way into the hills. Patchy snow and slush had given way to a layer of white crystals over the fields surrounding them. The road was wet and slippery in places, forcing Cam to slow down or risk skidding off the road. Her whole body tensed every time they rounded one of the sharp bends in the road. After the deaths of Megan’s and her own parents, she had never really been comfortable in cars. He handled the large vehicle with a confidence that she admired, but it didn’t make her feel any better.

  Cameron looked relaxed but a sudden tension in his shoulders caused her to glance at the road ahead of them. A temporary sign stood just by the road side and a bi
t farther on, a policeman stood at the entrance to a small parking place. A vehicle checkpoint. The police often set them up on these small roads where it was easier to control the traffic. They were looking for cars without the right documents and checking that they were roadworthy. Jayne sighed, this car was brand new and there was no way this man would be trying to dodge paying his road tax. Why should he? He could afford it. It still meant at least a twenty-minute delay while they checked it out though.

  They were directed into a space behind a white transit van and he opened the window to talk to the officer who had waved them off the road. There was another uniformed officer kneeling by the front tire of the van. In front, there were a couple of cars and a white mobile office with police markings. A set of metal steps led up to a door in the back and Jayne could see a corkboard with papers pinned on it through the grille window. Her attention was drawn back to the man who was now looking at the van’s rear tire. Something about him bothered her but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Vaguely she was aware of Cameron gathering the vehicle documents from the glove compartment and opening the door. He had just gotten out of the car when it clicked.

  Trainers.

  He was wearing black sneakers.

  What policeman wore sneakers when in uniform?

  She turned to tell Cameron and saw him scuffling with the policeman. The man was leaning against the door, trapping him and restricting his ability to fight back. She scrambled over the gearshift to help as Cam gave a guttural grunt and cursed viciously. The man with the trainers was coming to his feet and she suspected it was only a matter of time before others followed him. The door flew open as she threw her weight against it. Caught off guard the man stumbled backwards and fell onto the gravel surface. Only her grasp of the steering wheel prevented Jayne from falling out after him. Hastily, she climbed back to her seat as Cameron jumped in behind her.