Stones of Fire

56

Edie yanked the black turtleneck over her head and threw it onto the wooden toilet lid. Reaching her hand into the claw-footed bathtub, she swirled the sudsy water, testing to make sure she had the right mix of hot and cold. Evidently, it had yet to occur to the Brits that a single spout was a whole heck of a lot better than duelling taps. But as she was quickly learning, the Brits were a curious lot.

She unhooked her bra and let it drop onto the linoleum floor. Seeing the small mark next to her nipple, she smiled. C?dmon had surprised her with his passion, morphing into a lusty alpha male the moment he removed his woollens and tweeds. A lot of things about C?dmon surprised her. The way he would dunk a cookie in his coffee then immediately apologize as though he’d committed the gravest of sins. His almost boyish exuberance when it came to anything even remotely esoteric. His insistence on opening doors and preceding her down steps. His sweetness. His tenderness. His unrelenting resolve when it came to the Ark.

God, but he could be a hard-ass. She suspected that he took after his father more than he realized. Yeah, she’d pushed him. But he’d pushed back even harder. Short of killing a man in cold blood, she’d understand whatever deep, dark secret he kept under lock and key. She was certainly no saint.

What she needed to do was back off. When he was ready, when he felt more comfortable with the relationship, he would open up.

Clothes removed, she walked over and turned off the taps. Tentatively, she stuck a big toe into the water. Then, a hand braced on either side of the claw-footed bath, she slowly sank into the frothy water, having found a half-used bottle of lemon-scented bubble bath.

‘Perfect,’ she crooned, her tense muscles finally relaxing. She stared at the pitched ceiling, the light from the adjoining room turning the surface a pretty shade of candy-floss pink.

She reached for the flannel she’d earlier draped over the curved lip of the tub.

‘Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa-la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la.’

Realizing it was one of those songs that sounded better after a couple of drinks, she switched tunes, instead humming ‘The Little Drummer Boy’ as she soaped up the flannel.

Raising her right leg out of the water, she washed it from toe to knee.

Again, her thoughts turned to C?dmon. Christmas had to be a difficult time of year for him given that his father –

‘Getting all cleaned up to do the dirty, huh?’

Hearing the deep-throated voice, Edie swung her head towards the open bathroom door.

O, God. It was him.

57

Stunned to find her Oxford assailant negligently leaning against the door jamb, Edie thought her heart would explode. Overcome with fear, she helplessly gripped the sides of the tub.

‘And in case you got any notions about screaming or hollering or complaining to the management, you might want to reconsider,’ the intruder drawled, slowly pulling a gun from the waistband of his military-style cargo pants. ‘The two of us are gonna do this nice and quiet.’

Edie stared at the dark lump of steel clutched in his meaty hand. She didn’t know much about firearms, but she knew a silencer when she saw one. He could kill her in cold blood and no one in the guest house would be the wiser. Just like he had killed Dr Padgham at the museum. Just like he’d probably killed God knows how many people.

Gun in hand, he strolled over and retrieved her bra from the floor. As he did, Edie noticed the surgical tape on the side of his head. Evidently, he’d had to have stitches after C?dmon hit him with the bottle. Like he wasn’t scary enough already, the little pieces of white tape made him look like a turbocharged Frankenstein.

Holding her bra up to his face, the behemoth read the inside tag. ‘Thirty-four C. Nice. They ought to fit my hands just perfect.’

Edie wanted to puke.

‘H-how d-did you find me?’ she stammered, hoping that if she changed the subject, she could somehow change his intentions.

Grinning, he dropped the bra. ‘Amazing how you can hunt down a person anywhere in the world with a microdot tracking device and a PalmPilot. And the beauty of it? It don’t cost more than two hundred dollars. That’s the good thing about them Chinks and how they mass-produce everything on God’s green planet. Keeps down the cost of surveillance.’

‘You attacked me in Oxford, so you could plant a tracking device?’

‘Aren’t you the clever bitch?’ His gaze slowly moved down her soap-covered body, stopping at her quivering breasts.

Edie sank deeper into the bubbles, her head the only thing that remained above water. If she could, she would have squeezed herself right down the drain.

‘He’s going to be back. Any minute now. So you better leave while you still have the chance.’ She glanced pointedly at his sutured skull, hoping to drive home her point.

‘Ooh, I’m quaking in my boots. Besides, I’ve got my doubts about your red-headed honey returning any time soon. Last I saw, he was sitting at the corner bar, downing a cold one. So, it looks like it’s gonna be just me and you, sweet tits. But after what I saw last night, I think you can handle it.’ He winked lewdly at her. ‘I got last night’s fuck fest on video. Hot. Real, real hot.’ Reaching down, he cupped his crotch with his free hand, pursing his thick lips in an exaggerated air kiss.

‘I’m going to be sick,’ Edie moaned, leaning over the side of the tub, gagging.

‘The fuck you are!’

Charging forward, her would-be rapist grabbed her by the hair. Lemon-scented water splashed onto the floor as he yanked her up and out of the tub. Arms flailing, Edie reflexively slammed her fist into the wound on the side of his head.

‘Fucking shit!’ he bellowed, instantly releasing his hold.

Edie seized her chance, running into the bedroom.

A weapon. She had to find a weapon.

Her eyes darted from the standard lamp to the bed to the lumpy chair.

The nail file.

Oblivious to the fact that she was stark naked, she lunged towards the chair.

That’s where I was sitting when I was filing down my nail.

From behind her, she heard the thud of his boots.

Where the hell was the nail file?

She shoved her hand down the side of the seat cushion, her search coming to an abrupt end when a muscled arm snaked around her waist, yanking her away from the chair. Frantic, she tried to twist free, but it was as though she had a giant vice clamped around her midsection.

‘Think again, cunt,’ he snarled, lifting her bodily off the ground. Pivoting, he tossed her onto the bed, the iron frame clanging against the wall. Edie immediately rolled to her right but, anticipating the move, he grabbed her by the ankle, pulling her back to the middle of the bed.

‘Don’t move,’ he ordered, pointing the gun at her heart. ‘Or there won’t be anything left of your left titty.’

Not so much as twitching, Edie braced herself, certain a bullet would slam into her chest at any moment.

When it didn’t happen, she released a pent-up breath, wordlessly watching as her would-be rapist clicked the safety catch on his weapon. That done, he placed it on the mantel. Completely out of reach.

Cracking his knuckles, he walked towards the bed. ‘In case you’re wondering, I can kill you with my bare hands as easily as I can shoot you.’

Edie didn’t doubt for one second that he spoke the truth.