Stormy Peril

by Victoria Pinder

  Why would Raphael give her a family heirloom? Did he not notice? She'd give it back the next time they saw each other. Maybe he just didn’t care—but someone had to have known about the medallion. Meg?

  She almost placed it in her pocket, but stopped. She hooked it back around her neck, as that was the safest place she knew to keep it. If someone had something this old in his family, he shouldn't hand it to her like it didn’t matter.

  Another storm brewed in the distant sky. Soon everything would be wet and dark again, so she'd search outside for the Wi-Fi signal later. Hotels had to offer the amenity, and this place was a hotel for half a year. Perhaps he’d shut off the machine for the winter, but the hotspot might be somewhere right here, inside the castle.

  She bit her lip and wished she had an American cell phone.

  No matter, though. She'd carry her laptop around until she found the Wi-Fi signal. If Roger had one, she'd find one, outside or inside. She needed to tell her mother she was safe and alive.

  She hadn't contacted her family in years, so it wasn’t like her family was worried or knew she was in danger. Kimberly shook off the doubt and went upstairs. The halls were empty, but there were more portraits of women. The green eyes of the men close to them all reminded her of Raphael. Meg must have said "the blood of warriors" for the huge, brooding men who all wore kilts. She understood now. She continued to assess every woman up close. Over half of them had her medallion.

  The remoteness of this place would drive her mad. Kimberly held her stomach. Raphael made no sense, kissing her one minute, warning her away the next.

  Her face heated. What stopped him? Kimberly continued into her room and found her laptop.

  She had hours until she had to make dinner. She had time today, and she'd go everywhere. She hadn't explored most of this castle yet.

  A flash of the castle from the courtyard came to her mind. There was more than a second floor here. The place was too tall. There were at least four towers. Had Raphael claimed a tower as his bedroom?

  The idea excited her, but she needed to focus.

  She unplugged the power cord, as the computer was now fully charged, and ensured her Wi-Fi was ready to connect. She took her candelabrum and matches for later. The rooms would be light enough from the sun for the next hour. She'd spend three minutes in every room upstairs then down. She'd also try to find more staircases. There were so many rooms. This search could take days. She had months to spare.

  Her room had no connection.

  She stepped into the hallway and entered the first suite next to hers. Her room had a nicer view. Her computer hummed, searching for internet. While she was here, she checked the closet. No hidden staircase, and no extra clothes. Her computer flashed "no connection found." She picked up her laptop and left.

  The next room was the same as the previous, but in a different color. Did they rent the rooms based on what color the rooms were?

  Soon Kimberly noticed the pattern. The furniture, the styles of the room all matched, except the colors of the bedspread and shower curtain. None of the fifteen bedrooms had Wi-Fi.

  She carried her laptop downstairs, going to the furthest room down the hall—past the library and over the red velvet rope.

  She'd guess this was a den. It might also be used for a conference room. The thought lifted her spirits, and she refreshed the Wi-Fi.

  No signal.

  She placed the computer on the table and searched the room. She'd guess a conference room had a Wi-Fi router.

  In the back of a cabinet she discovered some wires, and her heart soared.

  She tried to move the heavy cabinet to get a better view, breaking into a sweat. She wrinkled her nose but continued. Finally, she found the wires and used her hand to follow to a black box behind the wall.

  She reached in with her fingers and brushed against dust.

  No button, but the box had to be the router.

  She picked up her computer and dragged it closer to the source.

  Her heartbeat increased. The computer read "internet found." One bar was almost nothing, and it flashed off before she finished smiling.

  She opened her email and tried to compose a letter,

  Dear Mom,

  The internet then went to the "no signal" sign.

  Kimberly bit her lip and hit refresh.

  This time, she opened up a Word document and jotted down her letter there.

  Dear Mom,

  I was in a plane crash. I'm all right, but stuck on an island in Maine until spring. In April, I will be home to tell you in person the following. I love you. I'm sorry I ran off. I was stupid, and I'm coming home. I hope you'll see me.

  Love you,

  Kimberly

  She wiped a tear out of her eye and sniffled. There was so much to say. And she had no idea what words would be enough. I'm sorry for being a rotten teenager? Reading that wouldn't be right. Kimberly copied what she had so she'd have one second to paste and hit send, if she found that bar again.

  Then she shook off her head and tried the internet again.

  No signal.

  Kimberly heard a bell chime. Raphael or Meg? Were they looking for her? Would they stop her?

  Kimberly's heart raced, and she said a little prayer. Once done, her computer found a low signal again.

  She bit her lip and opened her email. She opened a new message and pasted. She saw her short letter appear on the screen. Then she hit send as fast she could tap the button.

  A moment later it said sent. Then it flashed to the "no internet" sign again.

  Had her message gone?

  She hoped so. She covered her mouth and prayed the message went through. In April, she hoped to be home.

  Satisfied, she closed the computer and let her unease go. She was certain she saw the sent screen. The "what if" questions in her head had to be ignored. She had seen it. She tucked the computer under her arm and headed out of the room.

  She heard footsteps in the hall. She turned around and saw no one.

  The shuffling of the steps sounded close. Did Raphael want to talk about that kiss now?

  He’d enjoyed kissing her too. She’d felt it.

  She listened closer. It seemed as if the sound was coming from behind the wall. She left her computer on a side table in the hall and traced the wainscoting. Was there a secret door? Adrenaline coursed through her. If no secret door, then she'd find an adjoining room. She crossed her fingers. A secret door would be fun. Especially if it led to Raphael.

  The stones were all solid here, though, and nothing had any levers that swung a door open. Secrets like that might only be in the movies.

  She left her computer and picked up her candelabrum. This time, she lit the candles. The rooms were darker now, so the storm must have hit.

  On the walk to the next room, she again heard people. It might be a woman. Meg? Instantly the air became frosty. Her ears were usually sharp. She opened the door, but no one was here. The blackness of the room lightened as she held the candelabrum. What was this place?

  Unlike the rest of the spotless castle, this room was dusty. Like the room next to the kitchen, boxes were everywhere. She held the silver candelabrum closer, and took stock of the furniture.

  The room itself appeared to have another small room. With the layout, Kimberly guessed this was some sort of tearoom. In the morning, this chamber would have light from the early sun. The bigger windows showed her the raging storm outside. The drips of rain echoed against the glass. She turned around and then marched to the furniture that held the china. In a movie, this would be where she'd find the secret door. She pushed back the hanging tapestry.

  Victory. She opened a creaking door that led to a circular staircase.

  She clenched her hands to do a fist pump, but the heavy candelabrum needed a steady hand. Perhaps it wasn't wise to go up there. If Raphael lived there, he might see her intrusion as rude. He had run away from their kiss. At home, she'd leave him in peace.

  She stepped back t
o leave, closing the door behind her. A draft rushed by her. If there was a secret, then she had to know. She turned around and opened the door again.

  What was this place?

  A cold wind hit her, though no windows were open. The circular staircase was spotless. Was the earlier dust a ruse to stop her? Kimberly's heart raced and she climbed the stairs.

  At the top step, there was another door.

  Heavy footsteps echoed behind it. Raphael? She pressed her ear to the door and heard Raphael's voice. His words were hard to make out, but that was his tone.

  Now wasn't the time to barge into his bedroom. He needed alone time. Her breaths were short as she ran down the circular case, left the room, and went into the hall.

  Later, once he wanted to talk about their kiss, then she'd ask him to show her his room. Her shoulders relaxed. That would definitely sound like an invitation, and he might not be ready for her yet.

  What did the tower look like? Could he see the ocean beyond the trees? How far off from the mainland were they? Kimberly's head spun with a million questions, but her body burned for another kiss. Now was not the time.

  CHAPTER 14

  Kimberly retraced her steps, but her computer was no longer on the table in the hall. What happened? She ducked her head beneath it, but there was nothing. She called out, "Meg? Raphael?"

  She found no one. Raphael was in his room, so Meg must have taken it. Had she come in after her?

  The clock read six thirty. Should she cook something for dinner as she promised? She bit her lip then decided her computer took precedence. If it was Meg being tidy, then she'd have returned it to her room. Kimberly rubbed her arms, held the candelabrum tight, and rushed down the hall. It would be rude to insult everyone if someone took it for a good reason, like they thought she lost it. Kimberly's blood was hot, and it fueled her frantic pace.

  She had left it on the table. The table was cold to the touch. Was it possible that Meg thought a computer out of place?

  She proceeded up the stairs, pausing at the bedroom door. What if she'd lost the computer?

  Her computer was back in her room, and charging. Meg must have thought she lost it. Kimberly blew out the candles and left the candelabrum in her room. Guess it was time to prepare dinner.

  Raphael would be forced to talk to her again.

  In the kitchen, she took some red meat from the refrigerator, and spices. She'd grill, and make chimichurri for the grilled steaks. She'd not had that in years, and in Florida, the Argentine flavors were in almost every store. Here in the USA again, she hoped Raphael might have the ingredients. A few minutes later, she grinned. He had the cilantro and the cumin, which were the vital ingredients. She added them all in the food processor and pressed chop.

  Then she started the grill option for the steaks. The in-house grills never cooked the same way as outside, but she'd do her best.

  The chimichurri smelled heavenly, and the smell of garlic mixed with Italian seasoning and the host of other ingredients would make an excellent paste. She licked her lips and walked away to prepare the vegetables.

  The pitter-patter above her was Raphael or Meg. The splatter on the glass meant it still rained outside. She was becoming attuned to the castle noises. Tonight the dinner would be satisfying and simple.

  Soon she finished and loaded everything on the dumbwaiter. She quickly cleaned and ensured she'd turned everything off.

  This temporary cooking gig wasn't too bad, though it would be smoother with Erica’s recipes.

  The stairs creaked on every third step, but she no longer jumped. She knew her way. Old houses and castles made noises.

  Then a noise grew closer behind her, and her hair stood up on her neck. A frigid wind pushed against her spine. She gulped and walked faster.

  At the top step, she realized how she panted, but at least the noise stopped.

  The castle noises shouldn't send her heart into a terrified rush. Whatever that was shouldn't have mattered. She checked both sides of the hallway. She was alone. As always.

  Her body shivered as the room's temperature dipped below frosty. Then in the distance, she heard humming. Meg. Kimberly's feet rushed toward the library as she ignored the cold air. At the door, she dropped her hands to her sides. "Meg."

  The older woman called out, "One minute, dear. I'm mopping up a mess."

  Kimberly peeked her head in and stared at the charred remains of the blonde woman's portrait. Her teeth chattered. What had happened? Raphael's ex was toast. She noticed the pile of trash and she stared at the fireplace. The flames were almost out. Had Raphael destroyed the picture because he kissed her? "This wasn't in the fireplace earlier."

  Meg shrugged, and her entire body seemed light. "It left quite a mess, but everything will be fine now."

  Kimberly massaged her forehead, but her cool fingers didn't calm her racing thoughts. What happened? She hadn't seen anything, and she had checked. Raphael must have gone to the library after she explored the house. Her breaths were now clouds of cold. "Who was she, Meg?"

  "Another woman that neither of the boys should have involved themselves with." Meg shook her head. "Tiffany deserved what happened to her."

  Kimberly wanted to ask what Meg knew about Tiffany, but it felt like a betrayal. She pressed her lips together and stared at the ceiling. "What happened to her?"

  "It's best not to discuss the likes of her." Meg crossed her arms. "The Murphy men have picked the worst possible choices in their lives as wives, but they've managed to survive."

  Kimberly held the amulet around her neck. Did she mean her? What had she done? Her plane crashed, which wasn’t her fault. "Grown men and women decide who they want in their lives without interference."

  "Who has time to interfere?" Meg’s green eyes dimmed. "I'll take care of the mess, and hope none like her come back in our lives."

  Kimberly dropped her hands to her sides and didn’t want to push too much. Raphael had said that he'd slept with his brother's ex-wife. "Tiffany was Gabriel's wife?"

  "I hear he has a new wife now that is quite different." Meg nodded, and the coldness in the room shifted. "But yes, this is what remained of Tiffany, and now she's as dead as the other ex buried in the courtyard."

  Who else was buried in the courtyard? Kimberly chewed her lip. Meg would not tell her anything bad about Raphael, so she'd have to learn on her own. Were there others buried in the courtyard other than Eileen and Ali? Kimberly rubbed her arms. "I'm glad that Gabriel found a new happily-ever-after. You must be so happy."

  "Happily-ever-after is a children's story," Raphael's voice called from behind her.

  Kimberly pushed her hair behind her ear then turned around. "Is your brother miserable?"

  Raphael leaned against the door. He stood there in a clean black shirt that hugged his muscular frame, and dark jeans. Her body heat went up now for an entirely different reason, and the room was less cold. She stared at his shoulder to try to stay calm, but her lips tingled in memory of their last kiss.

  "My brother spent too long without people. He needed to get married."

  Her gaze met his. "And you don't need anyone?"

  "Nope. Is dinner ready?"

  Kimberly’s fingers went into her circle of calmness. He turned away again in his obvious tell. "Or your brother is smarter than you and saw a good thing to keep in his life."

  "You don't know them, Kimberly."

  "No, I don't." She walked closer to Raphael. She flipped around to say goodbye to Meg, but she was gone. She must have slipped out the back door. Kimberly's stomach was in a knot. "I only know you, and you love your family."

  His face turned red. Something inside her told her to be kind to Raphael. She brushed past him. "Come on, then. Let's go eat."

  She heard her footsteps in the hall, but then Raphael's deeper step followed. If they were talking about their kiss, they needed to be truly alone and without a way for Meg to slip in unnoticed.

  She turned into the dining room and went to get the pl
ates of food. Raphael followed and she heard him with the china and silverware. The fire blazed. He helped, which made him at least a nice crazy billionaire. "What ex-girlfriends of yours are buried in the courtyard?"

  He turned away. "What did you find in my laundry?"

  No. He'd not redirect this. She sat down. "I'm stuck in a castle without any television or internet, Raphael. So tell me, what ex-girlfriend?"

  He rubbed his temples and avoided eye contact. "The only people buried there are Eileen and Ali."

  She swallowed. She had to believe that. If she kept on this line of questioning, she'd turn him away. "I guess since you saved my life a few times now, I'll cut you some slack."

  "You don't need to bring that up." His succulent green eyes met hers again. "I'm no hero."

  She blinked. How? "I get to make up my own mind on what I think."

  "Okay." He dropped his hands to his sides. "Don't cast me as some white knight. You'll be disappointed."

  She nodded, then offered him a small smile. "You don't disappoint me, Raphael, even when you run away from our kisses."

  "I don't want to hurt you, Kimberly."

  She swallowed then ate a little of her food. The sauce was perfect. He ate in silence. Then she placed her fork and knife down. She rubbed her neck and he watched her every move. Her body pulsed with the knowledge he was close. She picked up her fork again. "Okay. We'll start again as friends, and no more kissing ever."

  She ate in silence. He did the same. She bit her lip and held back how his green eyes sent a thrill down her spine. Her dreams would be filled with his touch, but she'd not throw herself at the guy. They could never be anything if he was closed off and unavailable.

  He finished eating.

  Kimberly's heartbeat became stronger. Years ago she'd have run from any sort of permanent relationship with anyone, family included. Time taught her how she'd been wrong and that she needed her mom back. Perhaps she should get involved with some handsome man who would be more permanent. It would be an adventure.