In the Mists of Time (5 page)

At any other time, he'd have rejoiced. But the fear he'd thought long buried now raged through his heart with a vengeance. He bolted out of the bathroom like a bullet, almost flattening someone—Charlie—on his way past, and ran for the stairs.

“Can't be that bad, can it?” Charlie called after him. “Should I give it half an hour?”

Ignoring him, Thierry hurled himself down the stairs.

* * * * *

Louise had decided on a personal approach to Thierry. She'd drop in on Izzy, and speak to him on her way out. So as soon as Cerys arrived, she left the B&B and walked up the hill to the big house. Here, however, her plan went awry. Chrissy, encountered as usual at the front of the house, told her that Izzy and Glenn were out for the day.

“Damn,” Louise said mildly. “That'll teach me not to phone first. I can see you're busy, Chrissy, so I won't keep you. Um…”

Chrissy grinned at her. “Go straight through the kitchen and out the back door. He's in the middle caravan.”

Louise stuck out her tongue and followed the directions.

The kitchen was empty, although she could hear voices coming from the dining room close by. Walking out into the watery sunshine just beginning to peek through the grey clouds, she was very conscious of the beating of her heart, the jitters in her stomach. Ridiculous. She was only going to ask the guy to do a job for her, as she would any other tradesman or craftsman… Only, she'd screwed this one in a moment, surely, of insanity, and it had been so bloody good she really wouldn't mind repeating it.

Except that she wouldn't.

Trying to haul her disordered thoughts together and at least preserve the appearance of calm, she walked up to Thierry's caravan and took a deep breath. A fishing rod was propped up by the door, and someone was moving inside. Before she could chicken out, she raised her hand to knock—and had to jump back as the door swung outward.

Not Thierry but Ron stood there, looking almost as shocked as she was. However, he recovered faster, picking his jaw up to smile. “Hello there!”

“Hi,” Louise said weakly, very aware that this was the man who'd attacked Nicole in the mist. “I was looking for Thierry.”

Ron's smile broadened. “Coincidence—so was I. He isn't here, though. What do you want with the old scallywag?”

Louise blinked. “You know Thierry?” She certainly hadn't got that impression from them in the pub last night.

“Just a bit,” Ron said easily, stepping out and shutting the door.

His gaze fixed on her face, not exactly threatening but rather worryingly intense. “Been meaning to ask you about another mutual friend—girl I saw visiting you this morning. Do you know where she lives?”

The blatancy almost deprived Louise of breath. “Of course I do,” she ground out.

“I need to have a word with her,” Ron said easily. “A phone number would do.”

Louise stared at him. “No,” she said, “it wouldn't. I know what you did to her on the hill, what you tried to do.”

For an instant, his eyelids closed down, perhaps covering guilt, or even shame. Then his gaze met hers once more, quite steady and expressionless.

Panicking for Nicole, Louise stepped nearer to him. “You don't go near her,” she said harshly. “You don't speak to her. You don't even look at her!”

He didn't seem to be annoyed. Instead, amusement lit his eyes. “Or what, Miss Grieve?” he mocked.
“Or what?”

There was barely time to feel the implicit threat in his words and his attitude. A shadow fell over them, a shadow with presence that slipped around the front of the caravan and stood suddenly beside her.

“Or you deal with me right now,” Thierry said steadily. “And in the long term with everyone in this house and in the village. You're in my way.”

Ron, whose gaze had moved to Thierry, still betrayed no fear, or even surprise, beyond the involuntary parting of his lips. He said, “I mean to be.”

“Then you'll have to try a lot harder,” Thierry said, reaching for the door handle.

Ron stepped aside. “You want to be more careful who you associate with,” he murmured to Louise as he brushed past her and walked away.

“Why was he threatening you?” Thierry demanded without taking his gaze off Ron's back.

“He wasn't really. He was threatening a friend of mine. The girl we met on the hill in the mist.” She flushed, since what they'd done in the mist was never very far from the front of her mind. “He attacked her and she got away, and now he's just had the nerve to ask me where she lives!”

“Distraction, probably,” Thierry said.

“He was in your caravan,” Louise told him.

“I know. That's why he was distracting you.”

“He isn't a friend of yours at all, is he?”

“No,” Thierry agreed. “I'd say definitely not.”

“You should call the police. He's staying at the B&B, at least until I throw him out. In fact, the police will be looking for him soon anyway. Hopefully, Nicole will make a complaint against him this afternoon. She has to, now he's asked about her.”

“Well, let's leave it to Nicole. The police don't really jump through hoops for men like me.”

“Why was he in your caravan?”

“Looking for something, I expect.” He glanced at her, and a smile flickered across his lips. “Don't look at me like that. There's nothing illegal in there. Though I suspect he was hoping there would be. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm fine,” Louise said, slightly surprised to discover her fingers shook as she pushed them through her blonde hair. “He seems to have made me angry.”

“Come into the house,” Thierry invited. “Chrissy will give you tea—”

“Chrissy's busy,” Louise interrupted. “I'll just walk back down to the village.”

“I'll give you a lift. I'm on my way to Mallaig.”

Louise glanced at him, her heart beating now not from outrage or fright but from a new, insidious excitement.

“All right. Thanks.” Feeling she was taking some huge step into the unknown, she turned with him towards the garage.

Chapter Five

“He left his fishing rod,” Thierry observed. “Aptly enough.”

She was silent, her brain leaping in circles as she followed him around the side of the house, past the vegetable garden where a couple of familiar men were digging and sowing.

“Haw, Froggie!” one yelled. “Don't forget the Coco Pops!”

“As if!” Thierry called back. “What?” he added, catching Louise's gawp. “Coco Pops are very popular round here.”

In the garage, Thierry politely opened the car door for her, and she climbed in. She hadn't expected the sudden sense of intimacy as he sat beside her, fastening his seat belt, twisting around as he reversed out of the garage. She tried not to look at his hands on the wheel, on the gear stick. He turned in front of the garage and guided the car down the driveway to the gates.

“Why did you want to see me?” he asked as they emerged onto the road.

“Oh, just to take up your offer. About the computer. I came up to see Izzy, so I thought I'd tell you in person.”
Too much information. Stop talking.
She bit her lip to keep her mouth still.

Thierry nodded. It was only a short drive into the village. The thought of it ending filled her with a mixture of relief and panic. The silence stretched. Thierry flickered a glance at her.

“There's a saying here about the elephant in the room. I think we have one in the car. It won't go away until we talk about it. We can have a cup of coffee and clear the air. If you like.”

Louise listened to the beats of her heart. “All right,” she said at last. “The tea room or the B&B?”

“Wherever you prefer. I wondered if you'd be more comfortable away from the village. I'm going to Mallaig anyway.”

Her heart seemed to leap as she turned her head to look at him. He kept his eyes on the road as they entered the village. She imagined all the eyes in the tea room watching them, the ears straining to overhear. Or the curtains twitching as they entered the B&B where her parents were, and Cerys, who was hardly above gossip.

“Maybe Mallaig would be best,” she said breathlessly.

Thierry nodded and kept straight ahead for the coast road. Rather to her surprise, Louise relaxed back into her seat, mulling over the recent encounter that had brought her here.

“What's the connection between you and Nicole Graham?” she asked.

“There isn't one. I don't know her.”

“But you do know Ron.”

“Actually, no,” Thierry said a trifle grimly. “Though I think he might have emailed me a couple of times.”

“What about?” Louise asked, frowning.

“An old crime. Do you know who he is, what he's doing here?”

“He's on a fishing holiday, with a permit from Ardknocken House to fish this stretch of the river.”

“
Does
he fish?”

“He brought me a couple of trout the first day. We had them for breakfast. He's from London.”

“Is he a policeman?”

“He says he works in insurance. Why would the police be searching your caravan?”

“Old crimes,” Thierry said again.

She looked at him curiously. Since Izzy had taken up with Glenn, she'd grown more used to the idea of reformed hard men. There was an air about all the ex-cons at the house that was half-watchful and half-ready for a fight which never happened. She understood it came from their pasts, and from prison, but in the eighteen months since they'd been here, it had never, to her knowledge, spilled out.

Thierry was watchful too, but there was something…different about him. He was strong, as she knew from their straining embraces on the hill, and his casual hands on the wheel looked capable of taking care of himself if he had to, but there was none of the suppressed violence that hung around Glenn like the remains of an old coat. If she'd known nothing about Thierry, she'd have thought him, in every sense of the words, a gentle man.

“What did you do?” she blurted. “To go to prison?”

“I stole some money,” he said, his eyes steady on the road. “Well, a lot of money.”

“You don't seem much like a bank robber.”

“I'm not. They call it fraud. I embezzled a few million from an insurance company.”

Questions crowded into Louise's mind, but the one that spilled out was “Why?”

“Because I could.”

She looked at his face, steady and expressionless as he gazed only at the road ahead. “There's more to it than that.”

“Everyone has reasons for what they do. They're not necessarily valid reasons to anyone else, let alone to the law of the land.”

Although she waited, he didn't elaborate. She let it go, asking instead, “Was Ron looking for the money you embezzled?”

“I gave most of it back, which is why I got a lighter sentence.”

“Most of it?” she pounced.

A smile flickered on his lips. “I spent a few thousand euros first. Interesting, though, that Ron's in insurance. Or says he is.”

“Aidan's looking into him,” Louise said. “Because of Nicole.” She scowled. “Doesn't his behaviour seem bizarre to you? Assaulting a local girl who, admittedly, most people don't pay much attention to. And then sneaking around your caravan? All while he's supposed to be on a fishing holiday! Is there really no connection between you and Nicole?”

He shrugged. “None that I know of. Maybe his actions aren't related. Separate incidents.”

Like Thierry making love to her in the mist, and then fixing her computer? The elephant in the car…

“Why does no one pay much attention to Nicole?” he asked unexpectedly.

“Because she's a bit strange, a bit different. Or has a reputation for being so. Actually, she's no odder than anyone else. She's just a bit…withdrawn.”

He spared her a glance. “But you pay attention to her.”

“Never had any reason to,” Louise muttered, slightly ashamed. “Until we saw her in the mist and I realized she was really upset. She thinks no one will believe her, including the police.”

“So you and Aidan are investigating instead?”

Louise flung him a crooked smile. “Well, I asked Aidan to speak to her. He has a gift for that kind of thing.”

He nodded, as if that was already understood.

She said, “You don't seem very worried that Ron was poking around your caravan. You didn't even check to see if he'd taken anything.”

“I've nothing worth taking. Apart from my laptop and some computer bits. And, frankly, I don't think anyone's daft enough to steal from Ardknocken House.”

“Ron was daft enough to break in,” she retorted.

“True,” he agreed.

Since he was obviously going to say nothing more on the subject, she left it, for now, gazing out the window instead. The sun was still trying to come out, breaking through a few clouds to reflect its light on the sea. An oil tanker bobbed in the distance. A few small boats trailed in the wake of an island cruise ship.

“Have you always lived in Ardknocken?” Thierry asked.

“Yes. Same house, same village.”

“I like it,” Thierry said with simplicity that sounded genuine.

“It's home.” She glanced at him again. It was hard not to look, to enjoy the dark, hard male beauty. Butterflies danced in her stomach, dragging curiosity in their wake. “What about you? Where are you from?”

“A village not unlike yours, in Brittany. Northern France.”

“What brought you to this country?”

“Extradition,” he said dryly.

“Oh. Will you go home?”

“It isn't home anymore.”

“You don't have family there still?”

“Not really.”

He didn't want to talk about it. Fair enough. She gazed out the window instead, at the still-bare trees, looking for signs of spring. It wasn't every day, she thought, that attractive men regarded her as more worthy of a fuck than a confidence. Normally it was the other way around. She supposed on one level, it was flattering.

“I'm not really
persona grata
,” he said in a rush. “Now, about this elephant.”

Surprised, she whipped round to stare at him, but he kept his gaze on the winding road.

“As I see it, we were both a little rash—for which I apologise—and overwhelmed, and, judging by your reaction since, it was out of character for both of us. With all that, I don't regret an instant unless you do. For me, it was beautiful, and even if you never look at me again, I'll remember every detail forever.”

“Why would
you
look at
me
again?” she retorted, discounting her desire to believe his words. “Except for what happened on the hill. You never looked at me before—”

“Yes, I did,” he interrupted. “I saw you.”

Although he didn't elaborate, his words made her flush. To cover the silly pleasure, she looked away, out the window once more.

“We had unprotected sex,” she said abruptly.

“That, I
am
sorry for. I've never known such urgency that I forget such things. If it makes you feel better, you are the only time I haven't used protection. Ever.”

Her flush intensifying as memories invaded, she cast him a very fugitive glance. “Likewise,” she muttered. There had been only Dave in the last two years anyway, and even so, the sex had hardly been frequent in his brief forays north from Glasgow. It had been safe, though, and just a little…dull.

“Then we are at least safe,” Thierry said encouragingly. “And as consenting adults, surely that's all we need to worry about.”

She nodded doubtfully.

“Apart,” he added, “from me having been in prison for three years, and you can't trust the word of a dishonest man.”

She kept her eyes on his face. “You wouldn't be at Ardknocken House if you were dishonest.”

* * * * *

Thierry was right. The conversation did clear the air. They had coffee together in Mallaig and talked enough for her to learn his quirky and rather charming sense of humour. Afterwards, it was oddly fun going around the supermarket with him too, and she helped him carry his small mountain of shopping back to the car. As she heaved one bag out of the trolley, it burst, spilling its contents over the carpark.

“Damn,” she said. Crouching down, she gathered up the fallen items and distributed them through the other bags, which Thierry stashed in the boot before bending to catch her hand and pull her to her feet.

“I'll get the rest,” he said. But his eyes had darkened, and the warmth of his body so close to hers gave her a little frisson of pleasure. She was very conscious of his fingers on her hand, remembering what they'd done to her before, what she wanted very badly for them to do again. His gaze dipped to her lips and her breath caught.

“Thanks,” she muttered, pulling free and walking round to the passenger door. As she got in and went through the motions of fastening her seat belt, she realized her hands were shaking, even from that tiny incident.
I want him. I still want him…

She kept her face averted as he climbed in beside her. He sat very still until, reluctantly, she turned her head.

He said, “I want to kiss you. And either you're terrified of me, or you want it too.”

Something that wasn't quite laughter caught in her throat. “I don't think it's you I'm frightened of.”

He reached one hand towards her, and after a moment's hesitation, she placed hers into it. His fingers closed. He lifted her hand to his lips, and from him, somehow, the gesture seemed both natural and sexy. She shivered.

He said, “We don't have to fall into the back of the car or screw at the roadside. Would you like to have dinner?”

She felt her eyes widen. “I have to get back. Cerys is leaving early to make up for last night.” She'd no idea if he even knew what she was talking about.

A smile flickered in his eyes. “I didn't mean right now. Maybe on Friday? We could go to Oban, if you like?”

Wow. A proper date. Away from Ardknocken. No one had to know, if they could only sneak away separately. “I'll need to speak to Aidan,” she said breathlessly.

His eyebrows shot up. “You need his permission?”

Her laughter was slightly shaky. “God, no. But we can't leave my parents. They're too frail, and Cerys always has plans on a Friday.”

“Is that a yes? Conditional on the parent sitter?”

She gave him a quick smile by way of an answer. Unexpectedly, he leaned across and kissed her lips, a soft, gentle brush that deprived her of what breath she seemed to have left. It was over in an instant, but without thought, she reached up to his stubbly cheek and he met her gaze for a long, searching moment before his eyes fell once more to the region of her mouth, and her stomach dived.

She parted her lips in invitation, even tilted her head, and slowly, maddeningly slowly, he closed the distance between them once more and covered her mouth with his. She felt like sobbing with relief, shouting with joy, except his mouth distracted her with the most compelling kiss she could ever remember. Not urgent or forceful, but slow and sexy, exploring with tongue and lips, seducing her senses, melting her bones.

Her fingers slid over his rough cheek to his hair, tangling, caressing, as she kissed him back, opening wider to him, stroking the length of his tongue with hers. His teeth grazed softly against the inside of her lips as he deepened the kiss, sparking pleasure through her whole body. Her breasts ached to be pressed to him, to be fondled and caressed. Farther down, the moisture of arousal pooled between her thighs. She never wanted this amazing kiss to end, and yet to have sex like this, so slow and sensual…to feel his mouth on her everywhere, to have him inside her…slow, delicious sex…

His hand cupped her cheek as he came up for air. Dazedly, she opened her eyes and found his clouded, as they'd been in the mist. His thumb moved, caressing her lips.