Trove (The Katie Walsh Mysteries) (9 page)

Lucy tossed back
of her head and cackled. “If I thought there was anything interesting going on in your bedroom, I might be tempted, but it’s a well-known fact that you’ve been in a sexual drought for ages now. Or should I say you’re in a deep freeze?”

Katie’s body twitched at the additional reference to her Ice Princess reputation.

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten what to do?” Lucy sighed loudly. “Maybe you can study some of the cave art drawings stored in the Institute’s basement for a refresher.”

Katie jumped up, her soda hitting the wooden planking and rolling toward Laura, her hands at her side, fists clenched. “At least I know how to satisfy a man, you, you—” Just as the insult was about to jump off her lips, a large hand clamped down
over her mouth as another slid around her midriff, pulling her backwards, slamming her into a very hard, very male body.

“I’d advise you not to say another word, Katie,” Alec said into her ear.

Katie squirmed, trying to break free. Her hands pried at the one holding her against him. His grip tightened. She relaxed, her self-defense training kicking in. As she expected, his grip loosened. She took the moment to elbow him in the stomach and spin out of his reach. “You son of a bitch, what do you think you’re doing, manhandling me like that?”

He crossed his arms, eyes glaring. “You kiss your parents with that potty mouth?”

Laura gasped. Lucy winced. Katie froze. She breathed in deep, consuming the air around her as she straightened her spine, and willed the shield to fall into place from head to toe. She felt it cascade down through her body as she counted to ten before she faced him. Her eyes looked past him, focusing on the lighthouse in the harbor. Calmly she answered, “No. I do not.” She turned and walked back toward the Institute.

Laura shook her head at Alec then strode after Katie.

Alec turned to Lucy. “What the hell just happened?”

Lucy, her smug smile gone, replied, “Katie’s parents died in some horrific accident. No one knows the details. She doesn’t talk about it. I don’t think even Laura, who’s like a sister to her, knows the whole story.”

“Damn it. I had no idea.”

“Come on, Alec,” she said as she hooked her arm around his, tugging until his feet moved. “I think we should talk. It’s been too long.”

Katie slammed her office door and paced back and forth in front of her desk. “Who the hell does he think he is? I can so have his ass in a sling for what he just did.”

There was a knock on the door. Laura stepped in before closing the door behind her. “You all right, Katie?”

“No,” Katie snapped. “Who the hell does he think he is? He assaulted me. He manhandled me.” She crossed the room again. “And then he had the gall to bring up my parents. Ooh, I just cannot work with that man.”

“I agree he had no right to touch you like that but…” Laura hesitated.

Katie stopped walking and planted her hands on her hips. Her eyes locked on Laura. “But what?”

“Katie, I’m sure he didn’t know about your parents. It was an honest mistake.”

Katie pursed her lips, paced a few steps and then turned back to face Laura. “You may be right, Laura, but if he didn’t try to muzzle me, it wouldn’t have been said.”

Laura shrugged. “You’re right.”

“I just can’t work for him. He thinks he can tell me what to do, what to say? Well, he’s got another thing coming. I don’t need a babysitter. He’s not going to control me.”

“I don’t imagine many people control you, Katie,” Alec said.

She whirled around and faced him, her chin set in stubborn mode, willing him to bring it on. She was in the mood for a good fight. “Who invited you in? I didn’t hear you knock.”

Laura headed for the door. “I think you two need to talk. If you’ll excuse me,” she said as she left, closing the door behind her.

Katie walked up to him. Even in her heels her head didn’t reach the top of his shoulders. She tossed back her head to make sure he saw the anger in her eyes. “You had no right to stop me from telling Lucy off. I was not on company property and I was on my own time.” She jabbed his chest with her index finger for emphasis. “Absolutely,”—
poke—“
no,”—
poke—“
right.”
Poke
.

He rubbed his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t have to take her snide remarks. I’ve taken them for too long.” She turned and strode toward her desk. “I’m tired of looking over my shoulder, waiting for her to materialize.”

“I said I’m sorry.”

She fell into her chair and crossed her arms. “She does nothing that I can see but get in my face.”

“And she does that very well, Katie. You shouldn’t let her—”

Katie jumped up and headed for him again, her eyes narrowed and blazing. “Don’t you
dare
try to tell me how to deal with her. I’ve had to put up with her for my entire career here,” she huffed. “For all I know, she’s the only reason you got the director’s job over me. You two seemed awfully chummy when I looked back.”

He chuckled. “Jealous, KitKat?”

“
What
?”

“You heard me.”

“Why would I be jealous? If you want to go to bed with a viper, that’s your problem.”

He laughed. “Seriously, could you picture her and me doing the horizontal mambo?”

She tilted her head and shrugged. “I don’t know anything about you. She may just be your preferred type, blood-sucking vampire banshee that she is. Actually, I heard she’s the one that got you the interview for the director’s job. What’s that all about?”

He closed the distance between them before she could react. He circled her waist with his arm and drew her in tight to his chest, backing her up, effectively trapping her between his hard body and the hard desk. With his other hand, he lifted her chin. He lowered his mouth, capturing her lips between his. His lips were firm, commanding. She splayed her hands against his chest, pressing the heels of her hands against his hard muscles, trying to free herself. He reached his hand around to the back her head, applying enough pressure to trap her mouth against his. He took control, gently urging her to relax, respond. She pushed against him again, twisting her mouth slightly. He brought his other hand to her head, making it impossible for her to pull away. His assault was intense, relentless… delicious. She relaxed her lips and kissed him back. She suckled his bottom lip. The taste of him brought the memories flooding back. She arched into him, seeking contact with every possible inch she could, and opened her mouth. He wasted no time in claiming her.

His tongue melded with hers, neither seeking control, just exploring, tasting each other… remembering. She heard a low moan and realized it was coming from her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, raking her fingers through his silky almost black hair. She pulled him tighter against her swelling lips. His hand swept down her back, cupping her butt, molding her against him. She moaned again. If he wasn’t holding her she would have sunk to the floor, her knees unable to support her. He slowly came up for air and lifted his head. She whimpered at the loss of his touch, his heat. Her eyes drifted open, trying to focus, as her mind came slowly back under her control.

He brushed her hair off her face. “Am I forgiven, KitKat?”

“Um, forgiven?” she replied, still dazed.

He laughed and headed for the door. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She should be mad at him, but just couldn’t bring herself to get riled up. It was heady.
He’s getting under my skin. If I’m not careful, the lines between professional and personal will disappear in an instant.
She sank into her chair and she grasped the lilac-colored crystal that hung from the chain around her neck. She swished it back and forth, making a familiar zipping sound as she did. The memory of his touch, his scent, came racing back from that night five years ago, flooding her consciousness and began to play in her head. She was helpless to stop it and she admitted she didn’t want to. She’d allow herself the luxury, hell, the pleasure of remembering.

She was beginning to feel normal again, though not quite herself yet. While she was honored that she was one of a handful of Nordstrom Institute personnel that was given free rein at Willowton, Lord Anthony Chester’s West Country estate, she always ended up feeling off-kilter after a few days. Maybe it was the isolation or the fact that it was built over the convergence of three ancient ley lines. She only knew that after her two-week stay there pouring over research material, she longed for some human interaction, some modern surroundings. So before heading back to the Institute in Boston, she’d opted for a few days in London.

She checked into The Uber Metro hotel in London. It was ultra-modern, sleek, a stark contrast to Willowton with its tapestry-filled halls and portrait-laden rooms. While not her normal choice in décor, she hoped the chrome and glass surroundings would speed up her return to normal and the twenty-first century.

She smoothed the sleeveless, curve-hugging black dress, adorned only with an emerald necklace and matching earrings, which her parents had given to her. She checked out her reflection. She didn’t normally wear a lot of black, but she had to admit that with her heels, her dark hair and gold-green eyes, she looked ready to prowl, like a jaguar with an itch that needed scratching.

Who was she kidding? Katie Walsh, a femme fatale? If she didn’t feel so out-of-sorts from her stay at Willowton, she would have been rolling on the floor laughing at the very thought of it. As it was, she needed to get out of the room and back into the modern world and breathe. She grabbed her purse and headed down to the Uber Metro bar in search of a drink and maybe, just maybe, a little company. She sighed. Just a little uncomplicated company, no awkward morning-after moments, and no follow-ups. The bar was quiet, probably because it was only Tuesday. She’d been there about forty-five minutes, nursing her vodka tonic, and only four people wandered in. A middle-aged man offered to buy her a drink, but she turned him down. She wasn’t a flirt, and the last thing she wanted was someone to infer something that she wasn’t willing to commit to. A second man, old enough to be her grandfather, also offered her a drink. She smiled and told him she was waiting for someone. She motioned the bartender over and asked him to please not send any more drink requests her way. When and if she wanted another drink, she would buy it herself.

She finished her drink and debated whether to have another or just call it a night. So much for prowling, she thought. As she set the now-empty glass on the table, the hair on the back of her neck twitched. Someone was watching her. She sat erect, her senses on high alert, trying to determine where in the room he was. And it was definitely a he. She could feel his heat. Normally the thought of being watched would unsettle her, but tonight, she had a sense of… anticipation, heightened anticipation.

Without thinking, she turned to the left and saw him. She inhaled. Lord, he was impressive. Almost black hair, broad
shoulders, and grey eyes—incredibly grey eyes, she noted as they locked onto hers. He cocked his head, acknowledging her. She felt herself smile in response and watched as he spoke briefly with the bartender. Within seconds, a clear drink appeared on the bar next to his glass. She licked her lips, hoping that drink was for her, and was rewarded as he picked up both glasses and headed over to her.

“The bartender told me you weren’t accepting any drinks from your admirers,” he said in low husky voice with an American accent, as he placed the clear drink in front of her. “I informed him that you’d accept it from me, as I wasn’t one of your admirers.”

She inhaled, not sure if she’d just been insulted.

He winked. “I told him you and I were old acquaintances and you’d accept my drink. So in order to help me save face, please accept this vodka tonic.”

She searched his face and relaxed. “Thanks. Would you like to join me?”

The table vibrated as he set his glass down, brushing her arm as he settled next to her.

The touch, brief as it was, was delicious, teasing her body. He looked like a real male, not a metrosexual. He seemed comfortable in his skin. His presence announced, “Here I am, take it or leave it—your choice.” She liked the fact that she probably wouldn’t have to spend much time stroking him. Well, not his ego at least.

“My name is—”

She cut him off. “No names. If you want to sit here, then no names.”

He looked at her, his eyebrows knitted together.

She sipped the vodka, hoping it would quickly give her the courage to ask him to spend the night with her. She breathed several deep breaths, inhaling his spicy sandalwood scent. It’s now or never, she thought. For once in your life grab the chance to do something out of character. For once in your life, experience life instead of hiding from it.

“Are you all right?” he asked, tilting his head, scanning her face. “You look… preoccupied. Would you like me to leave?”

She shook her head and exhaled. “How would you feel about spending one night together, no names, no follow-ups, no regrets? Come dawn, we go our separate ways, never to meet again.” Her eyes widened in the subdued light, hoping he’d find her attractive enough to say yes.