To Have & to Hold (9 page)

Cate
stood and h
itched the strap of her purse onto her shoulder. “Thanks. And with those words of wisdom from my Golden Girl oracle, I think I need to head home before the storm blows in and washes out the road to my house. Need to thwart that accident hovering in my near future for another day.”

April stood and hugged her. Holding her at arm
’
s length, she said, “Don
’
t be a stranger. Okay?” She plucked a card and a pen from the counter and wrote something on the back. “If you need anything, even to chat, just call me. I
’
m here most days. Monday through Friday eight to two and on weekends the girls come with me to help out. They love it. So call me.”

“Count on it. I never thought I
’
d ever feel this alone.”
Cate
slipped the card in her pocket. She
would call April. She liked the way the other woman didn
’
t hedge the truth, even when it was hard.
An excellent quality in someone, especially a friend.

Cate
poked her head out the door and looked up and down the street before she stepped onto the sidewalk. She
’
d been inside The Tea Cozy for an hour.

She lifted her hand, palm flat as if pushing against an invisible wall and uttered the
guttural
words
embued
with power.
Magic stop.

The curtain of energy evaporated. She swiped the spectacles from the copper
-colored
table top
--
where they appeared a moment a
fter her words ended the spell--
and
clipped them
onto
the chatelaine. The man on the street had looked too much like her old friend for her not to guess that he might be the visitor April saw in the tea leaves. Not in the mood to see Michael, she hoped she was wrong. The only man she wanted hadn
’
t come for her yet. But she
’
d told him not to come. She caressed the tattoo on her neck, finding comfort in the touch, much as she did with the tummy rub.

And how the hell had Michael found her? She
’
d been in contact with none of her old acquaintances in England. There was no way, short of
magic
k
, he could have found her.
None at all.
 

Cate
touched the air with her fingertips and spoke the incantation
.
Reveal your source of
magic
k
.

The air snapped and crackled. Energy sparkled and then fizzled almost immediately. The trail had gone cold. The man had been gone too long fo
r her to trace the
magic
k
. I
f a human wielded this
magic
k
, it spelled trouble for not only her but the Dragon Consortium, because even though she couldn
’
t track the source, sh
e could smell the
almondy
scent
that
, thanks to her husband, she’d come to
associate with dragons
.

Dragon
magic
k
had definitely been used to track her down.

But
Michael James was no dragon.

Chapter Six

“David will be here later today,” Hattie announced when
Cate
entered the kitchen half an hour later.

“David Pierson? Why?” She dropped her purse and keys on an antique sideboard and studied the soft lined face of the older woman. Hattie never showed anxiety, but today tension pinched her mouth. In her late fifties and thin and wiry, Hattie
McDaniel
s
wore her platinum gray hair short. An inch and a half all over, it stuck straight up at wild angles. Big bronze hoop earrings dangled from her tiny ears. The blue scoop-necked cotton knit top that perfectly matched her shrewd eyes was cinched at her waist with a matching bronze belt dangling into the folds of her multi-colored skirt. Hattie
’
s bohemian
style
seemed
earthy and
natural on
a
dragon mage midwife.

“Trouble
’
s brewing.”

“What kind of trouble now?”

“Michael James. He
’
s come looking for you. David asked us to deter Michael until after he arrives. He
’
d rather you didn
’
t meet him alone.

Cate
laughed.
“Why not?
I can handle Michael.”

“
They found a
murdered woman in the London office of your trust solicitors. Evidence links her to Michael.”

“No, that can
’
t be right. Michael wouldn
’
t hurt anyone.”

“
David
didn
’
t elaborate and it
’
s not my position to question the Consortium leader.”

“I thought I saw Michael
today when I went into
town.”

“Did he follow you home?”

“No, I don
’
t think so. I lost him on the street in Mystic Springs.”

“I
’
ll have Declan and
Anu
patrol
the perimeter of the property.”

“Are you certain he said Michael James? I can
’
t believe he
’
d harm anyone.”

“Are you calling the Consortium leader a liar?”

Cate
shook her head, confused. “No. Not David.”

“If he sent a warning, there
’
s a viable threat. He
’
s never wrong, that one.”

“Understood.”
Cate
worried her bottom lip. “I
’
m going upstairs to rest.” Something was brewing, and it was more than trouble stirred up by a very human Michael James.
Cate
smelled a Consortium rat. S
he just didn
’
t know where
or who
, y
et. But
she would.

She walked through the great room and watched while a gray sheet of rain moved across the sky, the high winds whipp
ed the treetops. Rain lashed
the windows as darkness settled in,
and
the noonday sun disappeared. An artificial twilight cocooned the chalet. Lightning split the sky. A chill ran up her spine and the hairs on her neck rose.
Static electricity?
Or an omen?

Hattie had followed her into the great room. The midwife touched her temple. “I
’
ll be downstairs in
my room
if you need me. I have
a pounding headache.
”

They’d struck a comfortable balance since she’d arrived. Hattie had
given
Cate
plenty of room to adjust to the pregnancy over the past four months. She didn
’
t hover, didn
’
t expect to be entertained,
didn
’
t
hope to be
Cate
’
s
best friend. She provided support when asked and listened when
Cate
felt like talk
ing.

“Thanks, Hattie. I
’
m not the best company today. Sorry.”

“No worries, darling. I understand. Call me on the intercom if you need me.”

Cate
nodded and hugged herself. She
’
d been more tired recently, feeling the tug of the growing
baby on her own body. A flutter behind her navel made her pause. She pressed the flat of her palm against it and caressed once. The quiver of movement stopped. She waited, but he didn
’
t move again. She didn
’
t know when she
’
d started thinking about the baby as a
he
, but she knew the baby growing inside her was male. And she loved it.
A boy.
A rumbling, tumbling, rough-housing boy.
She couldn
’
t wait to meet him. Sadness pressed in on her, stealing her breath. Gra
yson would never know his son--n
ever fish on the banks of Linn Run with him, never play catch in the yard or teach him to throw the perfect spiral pass. And that just depressed the hell out of her.

Everything would look better after a restorative nap.
Rosy even.
As if it could. She climbed the stairs to the loft, dread dogging her every step. The loft
’
s half-wall overlooked the great room below and opened to a sitting room lined with bookshelves and a stone fireplace on the far wall as well as the closed door to the master suite. Thunder rumbled overhead. Lightning blanched the room white.

The beveled black and white photograph hanging on the wall
comforted her. She missed her grandfather’s
ready smile and caustic humor. He
’
d been a card, cutting up and making her laugh through most of life
’
s ups and downs. He
’
d know just how to handle this situation with Grayson.
And her future.

She needed a game plan for her life. Yes, she
’
d decided to put down roots here. But what would that look like for her? How could she get involved in the small-town community when she might have a dragon
baby
on her hip? Overwhelmed at the unexpected turn her life had taken, she just wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head. Disappear. Vanish. Or make her problems all go away. Sometimes she thought maybe it would have been better if she
’
d died in that sinking yacht
in the Celtic sea.
If they
’
d both died that day.
A quiet, watery death might have been preferable to this agonizing pain she forced herself to face every single day.

No. S
he rubbed her tummy. Then she
’
d never have become a mother. Never experienced the trials and joys of pregnancy and whatever lay beyond for her. She squeezed her eyes tight against the emotional pain that threatened to swamp her. She could do this. One day at a time.
But first things first.
A nap.

Cate
twisted the handle of the door to her bedroom and pushed it wide. She paused, allowing the calm the room evoked to steal over her. With its high, knotty pine A-frame ceiling and wall of windows overlooking her back yard and the forest beyond, the master suite provided a much needed refuge.

Sage green walls and white trim blended with the lush green landscape visible through the bank of windows. She walked into the room then continued straight ahead to look out at the patch of garden next to the flagstone patio where she
’
d spent so much of her time this past month and a half
,
working the rich soil, trying to coax the stubborn primrose bushes back to life. She
’
d planted gerbera daisies, lavender, and Asian lilies just last week. The heads of the daisies swayed and bent low under the onslaught of bad weather. She didn
’
t know if the garden would survive the day.

A cold draft of air brushed her bare forearms and curled around her neck. Her skin tingled, f
rom her tattoo and radiated lower
.
Danger.
The whispered word echoed through her brain in Grayson
’
s soft, husky timbre and had her head snapping to the sliding glass door on her right.

The door stood open five inches or so.
She couldn
’
t rem
ember opening it before she left
for town this morning. But who knew these days? Pregnancy, not to mention the added stress of her life, had a way of making
her
forgetful. Or at least that
’
s what Hattie said.
Cate
chose to believe her. Wind
billowed
the sheer white curtain. Rain blew inside,
puddling
on the wide plank floor.

Cate
grabbed a towel from the bathroom and wiped up the water, then locked the door to the porch
that wrapped
around the entire house. Over-sized green rocking chairs bobbed a ghostly
dance. Wind and rain pinged against the glass. She hadn
’
t seen it rain this hard in a long time, if ever.

She turned her back on the wild scene outsid
e, ready to snuggle in her king-
sized bed. That
’
s when she noticed it. A bottle of champagne sat propped on her pillow, a note beside it.

She lifted the bottle and read the label. Not just any bottle of champagne. Nineteen-eighty-five Krug.
Vintage.
Expensive.
The same wine she
’
d bought for Grayson for their anniversary that fateful night on the Celtic Sea. The night she should have died.

Had Hattie delivered it for Grayson?

She sat the bottle on the nightstand and read the note.

I
’
ve missed you. Let
’
s celebrate new beginnings together.

Grayson?
He didn
’
t want to have anything to do with her or the baby. He
’
d made that perfectly clear in his dry-as-dust letter. So where had the bubbly come from? Hattie would know. She reached for the intercom next to her bed on the nightstand to ask. The machine didn
’
t squawk like normal when she pressed the button. She pressed again.
Nothing.
She followed the cord, only to find it unhooked from the wall jack. She stared at it. She was too tired right now to worry about the intercom. Nor could she begin to bend and twist herself to get it plugged in behind the heavy headboard.

She stared at the champagne bottle. Memories battered her. All the tender moments they
’
d shared. Tears welled in her eyes. God, she mi
ssed him. Who was she kidding by h
o
lding tenaciously to her denial?
No one but herself.
She wanted him more right now than she had four months ago. Lust tugged hard at her. It had been four long months. But who
’
d count those four months as a trial when she
’
d waited a whole year for him before that? Okay, so, four unbearable, lonely months, after the greatest sex in her life felt like an eternity.
Abstinence, apparently, made reunion sex world-shattering.
Yeowza
.
Heat rushed through her body at the mere thought of that day. His bare chest and ripped abdomen.
The trail of dark hair that dove into his jeans, pointing the way to fulfillment.
Muscular arms holding on to her as if she
’
d hung the moon and the stars, and his sweet tongue confirming she
’
d accomplished just that feat as he coaxed her to love him.
Even w
he
n she
didn
’
t want to love him.

The sound of two glasses clinking behind her made her freeze. She sucked in a shaky breath. He was here.
Grayson?

She turned around slowly. Shock and a jitter of fear skittered up her spine.

“Michael? What the hell are you doing here?”