“While I think of it,” Craig said later over tea and English biscuits, “you haven’t seen a bit of London since you arrived. How about if I take you sightseeing tomorrow? I could give you a tour fit for the Queen herself.”
“A tour by a native Londoner? Sounds great!”
“I know every tourist trap around town,” Craig said, raising his chin and grinning. “And I’ll bring Shaun with me to escort your friend.”
“Are you sure he’ll want to come along?”
“Sure, he’s always up for a good time.”
“You don’t know Susan,” Taylor warned. “She can be a bit much to handle at times.”
“She’s probably a perfect match for him,” Craig said. “Shaun’s a bit of a lad, to say the least. While we were growing up, he was always getting into one scrape after another. Even now, I sometimes think he acts more like a kid instead of someone who’s just turned 21.”
Taylor laughed. “Oh, he can’t be that bad.”
“Well, yeah,” Craig conceded. “He can be nice when he wants to be, even civilized. We’re close, so I try to keep an eye on him whenever I can.”
“Then I’m sure he and Susan will hit it off,” Taylor said. “I’ll ask her when we get back, but I’m sure she’ll go with us.”
Taylor noticed the restaurant beginning to fill with evening dinner guests.
Craig looked at his watch. “It’s nearly dark. We’ve been here almost three hours. We should get going. Otherwise, we’ll end up eating breakfast here as well!”
“It’s so lovely up here, I kind of hate to go back to the city,” Taylor remarked wistfully.
“Bath is nice, but London has got a charm all its own,” Craig said, putting a protective arm around her as they walked toward the restaurant’s exit, “and I’m going to be the one to show it to you.”
They reached the lobby and were headed toward the door when a large man with cold, dark eyes suddenly blocked their path.
“Phillips.”
The man’s raw, raspy growl froze them both in their tracks, and Taylor saw the blood drain from Craig’s face.
Chapter 4
The stranger before them wore a mid-length black overcoat with a low-brimmed hat that partially hid his hard profile. He shifted his gaze to scrutinize Taylor. She gave an involuntary shudder as he openly stared at her. The man looked like a shady black mass that had detached itself from a foreboding alleyway. Craig followed the man’s gaze to her, then quickly looked back at him.
Craig’s eyes narrowed. “What the bloody hell are you doin’ here?” he demanded in a low voice. His accent took on a rough, cockney edge she hadn’t heard before.
Taylor immediately perceived a menacing aura of tension spring to life between the two men.
Craig’s eyes remained on the stranger. His accusing voice stabbed the air. “Ya followed me, didn’t ya?”
“We need to talk, Phillips,” was the stranger’s reply. Danger seemed to emanate from him like a high-beam spotlight. Though he spoke perfect English, his voice was laden with a thick French accent.
“Excuse me, Craig,” Taylor volunteered, interrupting his icy gaze. “I’ll go freshen up.”
Craig didn’t answer her but continued to angrily stare down the intruder. The Frenchman’s hostile tone made her heart pound nervously. What could Craig possibly have to do with someone who looked as though he had just stepped out of a cloak-and-dagger movie? Whatever their business, Taylor wanted no involvement with it, choosing instead to put as much space as possible between herself and a potentially volatile situation.
She walked around the corner and entered the ladies’ room. Once inside, she powdered her face and touched up her makeup, killing some time.
She was baffled by the confrontation she had just witnessed. Who was the man outside, and what could have possibly stirred such a rage in Craig at the very sight of him?
She finished up and walked out the door. She was just about to turn the corner toward where the two men stood when she heard the low, angry voices belonging to Craig and the stranger. She quietly stood and waited.
“I don’t care what Cabrera wants,” she heard Craig say sharply. “I told you not to bother me when I’m not home, man. You’ve got a cheek, following me!”
“You don’t make the rules, Phillips,” the stranger growled back. “These circumstances came about rather suddenly, and I had to find you to give you the details in case you didn’t return in time. He wants it done tonight, and he wants you and Steve to do it. Lately, I have to go looking for you. Could it be that you are avoiding us, mon ami?”
“Don’t be absurd,” Craig snapped. “I simply don’t sit around all day, waiting for him to summon me.”
“Such disrespect for those in command could get you into trouble,” the Frenchman warned. “I am here to tell you that he wants the job done tonight, and that you will do it. That is all.” Then he added, “What is the problem with you? You and Steve never gave us trouble before. You are well paid for your services, no?”
“It isn’t that,” Craig answered, “but it seems that we are called upon more and more frequently, and it’s getting more dangerous every bleeding time. We were almost done in the other night. We were bloody lucky we didn’t get sacked or wind up in someone’s garbage can. We want out, Pierre.”
The stranger gave a low chuckle. “Out? No, no, mon ami. Not yet, anyway. You are too valuable to us.”
“What does it matter if you forget your musical whims and work for us full time? You will be a rich man.”
“Not at the expense of the band or my own bloody life,” Craig spat. “We don’t want to do this anymore. Pierre, we’ve worked too hard making the band what it is to turn our backs on it now, not to mention the fact that I like to live and breathe, like everyone else.”
“Well, no matter,” Pierre said with finality. “You both are too useful to us to be let go. Perhaps in a little while, Monsieur Cabrera will consider your request, no?” Without waiting for a reply, he said, “I will be in touch with you later.”
Then Taylor heard silence. The man called Pierre was gone.
She turned the corner and walked toward Craig, who was leaning wearily against the wall, staring at a painting of Windsor Castle that hung across the room. His eyes brightened when he saw her.
“Let’s go, luv,” he said cheerfully, as if nothing had occurred.
His abrupt change in demeanor left her confused. “Craig, are you all right?”
“Of course,” he said lightly. Too lightly, Taylor thought. “Come along now.”
They got into the car and headed toward London, but Taylor could not get the mysterious conversation she overheard out of her mind. After a few minutes, she turned in her seat to face Craig and again attempted to broach the subject.
“Craig, who was that man you were talking with in the restaurant?” she began bluntly.
“Nobody we need to be concerned about,” Craig answered, keeping his eyes on the road before him.
In other words, Taylor thought, it’s none of my business.
Craig glanced at her. “He’s just some fella who works at a pub in Bath I used to play in, that’s all.”
“And?”
“He wanted to tell me that the owner, uh, wants Steve and me to play there more often, and I’ve told the man at least a dozen times that it’s impossible. He just won’t take no for an answer.” He looked back to the road and tightened his grip on the wheel.
“Do you mean that he had someone track you down at that restaurant just to ask you to perform in his club?” Taylor asked, shaking her head, astonished.
Craig shrugged. “He’s pretty determined, I suppose.”
She could not press him further, for Craig turned off the roadway and parked the car along the banks of the
Avon River.
“They call the Avon ‘Shakespeare’s river’,” Craig said, as he helped her out of the car. He smiled and took her hand. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
They walked to a small, intimate clearing along the river’s edge that was surrounded by a group of towering chestnut trees. Their branches were clustered with creamy white flowers, making the late afternoon sunlight appear a hazy vanilla color when it slanted through them.
Then Taylor saw them. Swans. Several of them, gliding lazily together along the water’s glassy surface. They were scarcely a stone’s throw from the riverbank, swimming gracefully while their images reflected as in a mirror on the dark surface of the water.
“Swans!” Taylor cried. “Oh, Craig, they’re beautiful!”
Craig put his arm around her while they watched the majestic birds. “This river has lots of swans,” he said, his voice quiet. “They’re the most graceful creatures on earth.”
Taylor marveled at the stately birds’ long feathers which shone a brilliant white against the creamy-colored sunlight. They watched one of them wander over near the river’s edge to pick among the tall rushes that lined the bank. Another stretched its long neck to break a leafy twig off a low-lying tree limb. Then, with unhurried but powerful strokes, they rejoined their flock to view their two visitors.
A golden carpet of buttercups blanketed the sloping riverbank, waving back and forth in the cool breeze. Further down the river, Taylor saw more of the large chestnut trees, their white blossoms leaning over the water’s edge.
“It’s a peaceful place, isn’t it?” Craig said, his voice tender. “A place left unmarred by man’s progress.”
“It’s breathtaking,” Taylor whispered, overcome by the hushed natural paradise of her surroundings.
Gently, Craig pulled her to him. He tilted her head up to him, then lowered his mouth onto hers. He kissed her lightly at first, then with greater intensity as his tongue gently parted her lips and eagerly explored the crevasses of her mouth, then moved down to nibble at her throat. Her common sense told her to stop him, to gather her wits about her, but his lips touched a well-spring of hunger, fanning a desire within her that she’d never felt before. She leaned closer into him, letting the circle of his arms wrap protectively around her while she drew in the male scent of him. She returned his kiss, giving in to the clamor of her awakening senses that would not cease no matter how much she tried. She felt him give in to her as well as he welcomed her tongue plunging into the warm recesses of his mouth.
His mouth moved away as his eyes lingered over her face, her temples, and then the wisps of her hair, breathing heavily as if struggling to regain command of his body.
“It’s getting late,” Craig said softly. “We better get going.” He released her slowly, almost reluctantly, and together they walked back to the car.
During the rest of the ride back, Taylor noticed that Craig had lapsed into silence. He didn’t talk about the special moment they had shared, but instead, concentrated on the road in front of him. Taylor felt him driving faster than usual, seeming to hurry back to London. He made polite conversation with her when she spoke to him. Otherwise, he seemed preoccupied. Somehow Taylor knew it had something to do with the stranger he spoke to in the restaurant earlier. She wanted to talk to Craig again about the incident, but she resisted the temptation. He obviously didn’t want to discuss what happened with her, and she knew there was no use in prying.
It was dark when they pulled up to the hotel. Craig made no effort to escort her to her room, but turned to face her in the car.
“I’ll pick you and Susan up in the morning.”
“I’d like that.”
Craig opened the glove compartment and removed a pen and pad of paper from it. He quickly jotted down his telephone number, then handed the slip to Taylor.
“Here,” he said. “If there is any change in our plans for tomorrow, ring me. If not, Shaun and I will pick you ladies up first thing.”
“All right,” Taylor said, then paused. “Craig, I enjoyed being with you today.”
“I had a good time, too.” The seat leather creaked as he leaned over and kissed her lightly. “Goodnight, luv,” she heard him say as she got out of the car.
Taylor walked to her room and changed her clothes. Then she settled back and called Susan.
“I was hoping you’d be back early,” Taylor said when her friend answered the phone. “I half expected to find you still out.”
“No such luck,” Susan said dryly. “My date ended up being a real loser. I left the Neanderthal in a pub and took a taxi back here.” Taylor heard her light a cigarette. “How about your day? Have a good time?”
“A great time. We talked about the demo.”
“That’s all? Judging by the way Craig’s interest in you is suddenly piqued, I’m surprised that was all that happened.”
“Well, something did happen, sort of.”
“You better explain that.”
Taylor related the events of the afternoon. “He didn’t do anything that was out of line. I enjoy being with him and I think the feeling is mutual. I guess I have to think about where this relationship is headed.”
“It’s heading in a good direction, if you ask me.”
“Maybe. He seems sincere,” Taylor went on thoughtfully. “He’s not rushing me like I thought he might.”
“And you’re complaining?”
“No, of course not,” Taylor said. “I’m finding myself more and more attracted to him, but I’m puzzled that he won’t tell me very much about his background or his work. He’ll talk nonstop about his band but then get cool and evasive when I ask him any questions about himself personally.”
“That’s how the English are,” Susan said. “You never know where they’re coming from because you never know how to take them. They’re warm one minute, chilly as hell the next.”
“Like, for instance, today,” Taylor went on. “When we left the restaurant today, he ran into someone he knew. The guy was a questionable type, and Craig wasn’t happy to see him. Yet, I don’t think he was truthful with me about who the man was or what he wanted.”
“Do you really care about what he does on his own time?” Susan asked. “With looks like his, he’s material for loads of good times.”
Taylor remained silent, wondering how Susan’s past could have given her friend such a whimsical view of intimate relationships.
“On the other hand,” Susan reflected out loud, “if the guy cares about you, then you are a lucky lady.”
Taylor heard her blow out a stream of smoke.
“Give him time. Before you know it, he’ll spill his whole life story, and then you’ll know all about him.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Taylor agreed. Then she remembered tomorrow. “Have you planned anything for tomorrow yet?”
“Well, the sun is so scarce, I can forget about getting a decent tan. No, I haven’t planned anything important. Why?”
“Craig invited us to go sightseeing.”
“Us? Think you can share him with me?” Susan replied with a giggle.
“Don’t worry,” Taylor laughed, “you’ll have a man all to yourself.”
“And who might that be?”
“Shaun,” Taylor replied. “Craig’s brother. Bass player.”
“Oh, I remember him,” Susan said. “Yeah, he’s a cutie.”
“They are picking us up first thing in the morning, so be ready early.”
“Sounds good. See you then.”
Taylor climbed into bed but she couldn’t fall asleep. Deep down, she knew what was troubling her. Susan was right all along. Craig Phillips was slowly and methodically breaking down the emotional barrier she had so painstakingly built around her heart since Diesel. No matter how hard she re
sisted, the walls were beginning to crumble like dried sand castles. That was what he seemed to be after, yet as much as she tried to deny it, she realized that she was secretly hoping he would succeed. Why?
She had to come to grips with the fact that she was falling for him.
She rolled over onto her back and closed her eyes. The rational side of her mind became plagued with doubts. What if Craig turned out to be some native skipjack, using her to get to her father to promote the band? His loyalty to his band and intense desire to see it succeed were obvious. She hardly knew him. Or his character. His good looks and suave, gentle temperament would make even the most unyielding woman fall victim to his charms. What if he didn’t feel the same romantic inclinations toward her that she was feeling right now?
And then there was his evasiveness. It was as though he was purposely keeping Taylor from knowing anything in-depth about himself. What if he had something to hide? Like a wife, for instance?
She laughed out loud at her own musings. The late hour was making her thoughts become nonsensical. Forget the “what ifs”! When she was with him, she felt happy and curiously free. She decided to seize the moment and experience the new sensations to the fullest, at least for the time she was here. She began to think of herself not only as a career woman, but as a woman with a variety of interests, even if one of those interests was now Craig Phillips.
Smiling contentedly, she turned over and fell into a deep, delicious sleep.
Chapter 5
The persistent melodic chime rang from Craig’s cell phone, piercing the solitude of the drape-darkened bedroom. Finally a hand reached out from the cluster of blankets on the bed. Craig yanked his phone off the bedside table, then slowly brought it to his ear.
“Craig? You there, pal?” Steve asked, encountering silence on the other end of the line.
The voice slowly penetrated Craig’s sleep state. “Yeah, what?”
A Perilous Pursuit Page 6