by Sarah Hoss
Detective Roberts opened the manila folder he’d been holding. “Other than the girl still being scared about what happened that night, she repeated the same story.” He glanced over at the guest. “And she remembers your face perfectly.”
Antonio Salvator stood from his chair to stare at the men more fully. “Then that is something to be remedied. Right, gentlemen?”
Both officers glanced at each other, then said, “Yes, sir.”
Chapter 8
“Gillian, I need to get back. There are things that need to be taken care of. Family that will wonder what happened to me,” Hamish pleaded.
“Look, I’m sorry, but—“
A knock on the door made them both stand still, stunned. Looking at him, she swallowed. A second knock came. She held her breath and waited, then sent up a silent prayer that she hadn’t been found.
“Do ye want me to answer it?”
The door handle rattled as if someone was trying to get in. She tensed and without conscious thought, moved to stand behind Hamish. He placed his hand on her thigh to hold her there as they waited.
“Gilly? Are you in there?”
She sighed and closed her eyes in relief, laying her forehead between his shoulder blades. “It’s my best friend. It’s okay.”
She moved from behind him and started across the room, but he stopped her. “It’s okay, really.” She bit her lip, thinking. “Umm, maybe you should go into the bedroom and wait.”
Hamish cocked his head a little, annoyance crossing his features. “Ye mean hide?”
“Look, call it what you want. Point is, she . . .” Gillian said as she pointed toward the door, “. . . will see you and ask questions that neither of us have the answer to. So, you can go and have peace and quiet in the bedroom, or you can sit here and be drilled by her. You choose.”
She rested her hands on her hips and waited for his decision.
“Ye prove to me that ye are safe and I will leave the room.”
When the third knock came, she jogged over to the door and opened it, smiling. “Sorry, I was busy in the bathroom.”
“It’s all right.”
She stepped out of the way and let Tara through the door. She took in a deep silent breath when she confirmed that Hamish was out of sight.
As they walked across the room, she glanced down, and noticed the red paper bag that Tara had been holding behind her back.
“You didn’t!”
“I did,” Tara said as she brought the bag around and set it on the kitchen table.
Gillian fetched a knife, two spoons, and plates. “I think at this exact moment, I will pledge my undying devotion to you.”
Tara laughed and took the lid off the Philly Freeze triple chocolate ice cream cake and began cutting. “You mean to tell me I get all that just for bringing you some Philly Freeze?” Tara stopped to look at her. “Hell, had I known, I would have brought this to you a long time ago.”
Giggling, both women sat down and ate half their pieces in complete silence. The contrast of the ice cream and the cookie topping was amazing and she closed her eyes, sighing as she chewed.
As Tara opened her mouth to say something, a man’s scream, followed by a loud clamor, came from the bathroom. She sat frozen in horror as Tara rose and headed toward the hallway. “What on earth?”
Gillian sprang to her feet but wasn’t quick enough. Her mind scrambled for ideas of what was going on, but never would she have guessed the scene before her.
“Holy shit!” Tara’s gaze traveled up and down Hamish’s naked form, standing in the shower dripping wet. She held her breath as Tara turned and gave her a knowing smile. “I bet you were busy in the bathroom.”
Gillian quickly assessed the situation and knew she had to put out any flames of dirty thoughts that at this moment were running rampant through Tara’s very imaginative mind.
Pointing to her friend, she said, “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
Pointing to Hamish, she asked, “What happened?”
Watching as he took a towel off the rack, a piece of her regretted him having to cover up. Get a grip. You can’t have him standing there naked. It’s rude to stare.
“I thought it best I clean up. I came in here and began to look around. When I saw the bath I got in, but the water was hot and I tried to get out quickly. I almost fell on the floor.”
She scooted past Tara and put her finger to the corner of her friend’s lips, pretending to wipe away a bit of drool. “You’ve got something right there.”
Leaning over, she turned on the water and adjusted it to a normal temperature with Hamish paying close attention. Glancing back over her shoulder, she pointed to the words on the shower handle. “When you’re done, step back out of the stream and turn the handle to off.” She straightened, which put her nose to chest with him. Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed hard. Her eyes blazed a fiery path up his magnificent body until she caught his eye. Heat flamed her cheeks and she gave a crooked half-knowing smile.
A cough brought her back to the moment and she remembered their company. She turned toward Tara, grabbed her hand, and quickly led her out of the bathroom, closing the door behind them. Walking briskly into the kitchen, she sat down and began eating her half-melted piece of ice cream cake. And then waited.
She waited for what she knew was coming. The endless questions, the dirty innuendos behind every comment. But there was more to her thoughts than what Tara might say. The image of Hamish standing in her bathroom—naked, dripping wet, his tanned skin against the baby blue of her walls—and how the towel fit tight against his body. She shook her head. Oh, for Pete’s sake, how long has it been since I’ve had a good roll in the hay?
She peeked over at Tara to find her staring. Laying down her fork, she asked, “What do you want to know?”
Ten minutes later, when the door opened to the bathroom, both women turned to stare down the hall.
“You dirty dog. You went and found yourself a man,” Tara said.
Gillian stared at her for a moment, trying to process the words her friend had spoken. “What?”
Tara reached over and punched her in the arm. “How long have you been seeing him?” She giggled then leaned forward and whispered, “Are you having sex with him yet?”
She shook her head. “No.”
Tara leaned back in her chair and tried to catch a glimpse of him. “I would ride him like a merry-go-round. What the hell are you waiting for?”
“Tara, it isn’t what you think.”
“With a man like that, it should be.”
Gillian shook her head. “You are so bad.”
Tara pointed at her. “No, you are bad for keeping him from me. I’m your best friend. I can’t believe you kept a secret the size of . . .” She motioned down the hallway. “. . . wow, is all I can say!”
She reached out and held Tara’s hand. “I’m sorry.”
Her best friend winked at her. “It’s okay. At least he can protect you from that other guy. What’s going on with Salvator, anyway?”
“The police came and spoke to me about that night.” She cut off a bite of her dessert and stuffed it into her mouth, hoping for a delay.
Tara glanced down as her hip began to vibrate. Taking her cell phone out of her pocket, she answered. After a few minutes, she hung up.
“Listen, that was Anthony. I have to go. He wants to take me out for supper.” She squeezed Gillian’s hand. “If you decide to make a man out of him, I want to know.”
Both ladies laughed and she stood to hug her friend goodbye.
“Okay then, you call me tomorrow, first thing in the morning.” With one last nod, she let herself out the door.
Gillian sat down on the living room couch. Part of her wanted to laugh because she didn’t know if her s
ituation had become better or worse.
She had to deal with Salvator and the murder. Now, she had to add Hamish to her list. Two men, completely different, yet both causing a problem in her life in their own way. There wasn’t anything she could do about Salvator. As for Hamish, she turned her head in her hands to stare at the wall.
Forty-eight hours. That man had been in her life for a whopping forty-eight hours and he’d brought with him a whole new bag of trouble. What was she going to do now?
Chapter 9
With the dinner dishes done, Gillian strolled into the living room to find Hamish turning the channel on the television. She smiled when he paused on a racy scene in a movie. His mouth opened slightly and his eyes became as big as saucers. She would swear he was blushing.
Watching him, she let her eyes rove over him. He was big, there was no denying it, but he was also strong, and had promised to protect her while he was here. She was antsy and desperately wanted to get out of her apartment even if for only a moment. If he went with her, surely she would be okay. The police had taken her statement and should have arrested Antonio by now. They knew who he was and where to find him because she’d told them. What was the harm in going out?
“You’re getting pretty good with that thing.”
He glanced back over his shoulder at her. “Some of the things I have seen are shocking. I canna believe it.”
She laughed. “Well, don’t watch too much of it. It’ll rot your brain.” At his quizzical look, she laughed again.
Sitting down on the couch next to him, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. Tara had sent her a text message and as she answered the message, she felt him lean over and watch her.
“What is that thing?”
She glanced at him. “This thing? It’s a cell phone.” When he didn’t make a sound, she went on. “I can call people on it or send a message. See, watch.” She finished typing her message and sent it. In a moment, she got a response. He took the phone from her hands and turned it over and over looking at it.
Taking it back, she called Tara and put it on speaker phone.
“Tara, hi.”
“Hello. How are things going with Mr. Yummy?”
He glanced at her and she smiled. “He’s sitting next to me listening.”
“Hi, Hamish. Geez, Gilly, you could have warned me.”
“Hello,” he said, amazement stretched across his face.
“I’m going to go. I promised I would call.”
“Okay, sweetie. Bye.” Then she hung up the phone.
He leaned forward. “Extraordinary.”
Gillian turned the phone off and laid it on her lap. She’d put on a pair of jeans and a purple sweater. She toyed with the end of it as she glanced over at his clothing. He wore his kilt and shirt. When he’d returned to her the day after he had arrived, she had loaned him a pair of sweat pants and washed his clothes.
She let her mind run away with visions of him in his own time and his own setting. She tried to picture him on horseback, riding through the hills and mountains of Scotland. An image of him wielding a sword entered her thoughts and she closed her eyes. She focused on his arms as the muscles rippled letting the sword swing to and fro. She smiled to herself as she saw his hair whipped around as he turned to meet the strike of his opponent. Maybe he was a farmer. She could see him out in the fields, working his land.
“Gillian, have ye no heard anything I’ve said?”
She opened her eyes and turned to him, finding him mere inches away from her face and paused, her focus moving from his bright blue eyes to his full mouth. Her lips parted involuntarily and the only thing she could think of was kissing him. She was made immobile with his presence.
As she slowly raised her eyes to meet his, she found him carefully watching her. His eyes moved down to glimpse her own mouth and the moment he did that, she found herself leaning forward.
When their lips met, it was just a touching of skin, sweet and yet, her blood raced with excitement in her veins. She pulled away and they sat for a moment, eyes locked.
She reached up with her right hand and laid it on his cheek as she leaned toward him, bent on kissing him again. She was so close, their lips only a hair’s breath away when he reached up and grabbed her hand, pulling away from her.
She was stunned and embarrassed. Her phone rang and she was thankful for the interruption and the distraction. She turned it on and greeted her father.
“No, Father.” She turned to stare at Hamish. “I wasn’t doing anything important at all.” Then walked out of the room.
Chapter 10
Gillian glanced at her watch as she buttoned her shirt. Nine o’clock in the morning and if she didn’t get out of her apartment, she was going to scream. Creeping past the door to the guest bedroom, she paused when the floorboard creaked. Foot held slightly above the floor, she waited, holding her breath, hoping that she hadn’t woke him. Feeling confident that she hadn’t, she crept into the kitchen. Grabbing her coat off the hook, she swung it around to put it on when the coat caught on something.
“Where are ye going?”
Simultaneously jumping and screaming, she scored a half-twist in the air, landing with her back to the refrigerator door that would have made any gymnast proud.
“Son of a . . . seriously?” Pulling herself away from the fridge, she punched him in the chest. “You scared the shit out of me. Don’t ever do that again.”
Pushing past him, she walked into the living room, sat down, and put on her tennis shoes. “I have to go out for a bit.” With her eyes trained on her task, she could see his feet as he came to stand in front of her.
“May I ask why?”
Sighing, she rose, meeting him eye to breast. She glanced up to meet his gaze. “We need food. I don’t think you realize how much you can take in at one sitting,” she said as she patted his rock hard abs. “Plus there are a few things I need to do in town. I’ve been neglecting some of my duties.” And I need to be away from you before my hormones explode.
“Duties?”
“I have a job, but I need to send off some reports and pick up my mail from the post office.”
“And ye were going to leave me here and not tell me where ye were going? Gillian, we need to talk. I need to know more about how I got here so I can get home.”
He walked to the window of the living room to stare out over the street in front of the apartment complex. He balled his fist and lightly hit the window sill.
Guilt crept into her and it wasn’t a feeling she relished. But how could she take him to town looking the way he did and how could she explain to him about how he got here when she didn’t understand it herself? Her eyes traveled down the length of him, taking in every inch of his six-foot-six-inches. His hair was black like a moonless night and hung to his shoulders. He looked ridiculous standing in her modern living room.
He glanced over his shoulder at her when she approached and he turned. Stepping back, she peered up at him. “Hamish, people will stare and ask questions about you. You’ll bring more attention to me than I need. When I go out, I’m going to be as inconspicuous as possible. You won’t be helping in that arena, dressed as you are. Please stay here.” She turned to go and he reached out to stop her.
“What does that mean?” As he crossed his arms over his chest, she waited for the argument that was to come. As his mouth opened and he started to speak, she walked to the door and opened it. She wasn’t going to stand here and debate with him.
She took a step out the door, just as Hamish was telling her to come back, and she squealed when she saw a familiar face. Inwardly, she sighed, thankful. Her nerves were still on edge and she briefly wondered if she would ever feel calm again.
“Hi, Annie.” She squatted in front of the little boy standing next to her neighbor. “How are
you, Trevor?”
The five-year-old leaned to the right, glanced past her and stared dumbfounded over her shoulder. She glanced up at his mother to find the same expression on her face. She rolled her eyes and stood.
Trevor scooted closer to his mother. “Who are you?” he asked, pointing a finger at Hamish?
Gillian stepped backward with her hands behind her holding the door handle. This was going to be interesting.
Her eyes shifted between Hamish and Trevor as Hamish stepped forward and squatted down to the little boy’s level.
“My name is Hamish Macpherson.”
“Mac-fur-son . . . there’s a boy in my class with that name but he says Mac-fear-son.”
“Aye, some do.”
“You sound funny,” Trevor said as he smiled. He leaned his head on his mother’s arm but never took his eyes off Hamish.
His horrified mother clamped her hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “Honey, you can’t say that.”
Hamish glanced up at the mother, then focused his attention back to the boy. “Aye, I do.”
Gillian smiled as she watched Trevor study Hamish as if he were looking for a flaw in the big man’s character. She understood the thoughts that surely were going through his mind. Hamish was an intimidating figure even if he didn’t mean to be. Hamish stuck his hand out to shake Trevor’s and she held her breath, waiting to see what he would do.
Slowly, Trevor reached out and took his hand, amazed at the size difference between them. “You’re big.” He glanced up shyly with wide-eyes.