“I’m okay.”
“Are ye warm enough? The only clothes I could find were summer ones that Shanna left behind.”
“Who’s Shanna?”
“Shanna Draganesti. She owns this house, along with her husband. Several houses, actually.” He sat in the middle of the couch and shifted sideways to face her.
She noted how muscular he looked, and how the hair on his chest was more brown than red. He’d tied his damp auburn hair back into a ponytail. “Where is
“Scotland, a few miles south of Inverness. I have about twenty acres next to my grandfather’s land. I have my own house, but he always expects me to stay in his castle.”
She blinked. “A real castle?”
“Aye. ’Tis a wee bit drafty for my taste. My house is cozier, but I’m rarely there. I’m usually on assignment.”
“What kind of assignments?”
He rested an elbow on the back of the couch. “Security and investigation.”
She nodded. Even though her lie detector skills didn’t work with Robby, she believed he was being honest. The physical signs were correct. He was facing her, keeping eye contact with her and looking comfortable. What’s more, she had a strong feeling that he wanted her to trust him. He’d claimed from the beginning that he was trustworthy. He’d endured torture without betraying his colleagues. So why shouldn’t she trust him? He’d confronted a huge jaguar in order to save her.
“You were working for your grandfather’s company last summer when you were captured?” she asked. “What kind of assignment was that?”
He rubbed his jaw. “Sometimes MacKay S and I gets involved with some sensitive security issues.”
She sat back. “You mean national security? That’s how you know people in the CIA?”
He nodded. “We were trying to locate a group of domestic terrorists.”
“Where? How come I never heard about this?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “’Tis a secret.”
She took a deep breath. “And these terrorists are the ones who tortured you.”
“Aye, but I’d rather no’ talk about it. ’Tis over and done with.”
“Is it really?” She turned to face him, resting a bent leg in front of her on the couch. “Can you honestly say that you never think about it?”
His jaw shifted. “I think about it every day.”
“When you answered my first question about what you wanted more than anything, what was your answer?”
His gaze lowered to her leg.
“Do you want to get even, Robby? It would be understandable if you did.”
He leaned forward and tugged gently on her big toe. “If I tell you, ye’ll have to give me yer answers, too.”
She bit her lip. “Okay. It’s a deal.”
He wrapped his hand around her ankle and squeezed. His green eyes locked on hers, glimmering with emotion. “I want revenge. My worst fear is that I willna get revenge, and no, it willna make me a better person.”
She swallowed hard. “So you still intend to do it?”
He nodded slowly. “Do ye think that makes me a bad person?” He trailed his fingers up her calf.
She watched his hand as it slowly approached her knee. Oh, he could definitely be bad. And she’d like it. “I think it means you’re human. And you suffered more than physical injury.”
“It was humiliating,” he whispered as he stroked the tender crease behind her knee.
She was having trouble concentrating. “There’s a famous saying by Eleanor Roosevelt. I–I can’t recall the exact words, but it’s something like, no one can make you feel inferior without your permission.”
He sat back, withdrawing his hand from her leg. “I like that. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He slanted her a curious look. “For someone who dinna want to be my therapist, ye’re doing a great job.”
She grinned. It was about the best compliment she could ever receive. “It’s a good thing I’m not your therapist. Otherwise, it would be totally unethical for me to be involved with you.”
With a smile, he touched her hair. “So ye want to be involved with me?”
Heat rushed to her face. “I think I already am.”
His smile widened and he coiled one of her curls around a finger. “Yer turn now. What do ye want more than anything?”
“A long, happy life. I’m not quite sure what that would entail, though.”
“A
This was the part she didn’t want to talk about. She turned to face the fireplace. “Apples.”
“The fruit?”
“Yes.” She drew her legs up in front of her, hugging her knees. “He sends me apples. Big red ones in a box. First he sent them to my office. Then he sent them to my apartment. I moved to another apartment, but he found me.”
“Who is he?”
She shuddered. “Otis Crump. I even moved to a safe house, but the apples still came.”
Robby moved closer to her on the couch. “He must be following you.”
“He can’t. He’s in Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary. In solitary confinement.”
“He’s ordering the apples from prison?”
“There’s no record or proof of that.”
“Then how can ye be sure he’s the one sending them?”
She closed her eyes briefly.
Robby touched her shoulder. “I believe you. He must have an accomplice.”
She rubbed her forehead. “That’s what I thought, but my supervisor thinks I’m…overreacting. That’s why he sent me away, so I could calm down. Regain some perspective.”
“Ye were a wee bit vocal in stating yer opinion?”
“More than a ‘wee’ bit. I was told I was being paranoid.”
Robby smiled. “Och, we have so much in common.”
She snorted. “Thanks.”
“I still think yer prisoner has an accomplice.”
“I agree, but I don’t know how. He’s been in solitary for two years. They monitor all his mail. I’ve questioned him about it, but it’s hard to tell now when he’s lying. He scatters just enough truth and half-truths into everything he says, that I can’t tell what’s what anymore. He—he enjoys playing with me.”
“Does he know about yer gift?”
“He figured it out after the first few times I caught him lying. He…he finds me fascinating.”
“Bugger,” Robby muttered, then rose to his feet. He paced toward the fireplace, then turned. “Doona see him again.”
“If I’m ordered to—”
“What crime did he commit?” Robby interrupted.
“He raped and murdered at least thirteen women.”
Robby grimaced. “He’s a bloody monster. Why did ye ever see him?”
“He was convicted on three murders, but we suspected he’d committed other homicides in several states. It was my job to get him to confess. He’d been in solitary for so long, he really looked forward to our meetings. He kept dropping hints that he would tell me more if I continued to see him.”
“He was manipulating you.”
Olivia sighed. “I know. We all knew, but my supervisor wanted me to play along. Otis is very proud of what he did.” She shook her head, wishing she could block out the images. “We knew he’d want to brag about it eventually.”
Robby sat next to her on the couch. “What happened?”
She focused on the fire in the hearth. “He promised to tell me everything if I would just bring an apple to our next meeting. A big red apple and a paring knife. He watched from behind the glass while I peeled it. And he…”
How could she admit that the monster had ejaculated in her presence? Or that he’d described to her in great detail how he’d tortured the girls, using a paring knife just like she had.
She covered her face, but the gruesome images still haunted her. Tears burned her eyes. “That’s how I know he’s the one sending the apples. He wants me to go back to see him. He—he’s obsessed with me.”
“Olivia.” Robby scooped her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. “Sweetheart, ye’re safe now. I willna let anyone harm you.”
She buried her face against his shoulder and let the tears go. She’d held them in for so long, always trying to be strong on the job. She cried for the girls who had died. She cried for the perversion she’d been forced to endure. She cried for the torture Robby had suffered.
He continued to murmur sweet things as he rubbed his hands up and down her back.
She rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I got the confession like I was supposed to, but I felt so
He took her by the shoulders. “Sweetheart, ye’re an angel. Ye canna be tainted with that man’s evil.”
She smiled and touched Robby’s cheek. His whiskers were prickly and sexy, but above the whiskers, his skin was baby soft. He was the sweetest man she’d ever met, and God help her, she wanted him with an ache that squeezed her heart till she could hardly bear it.
“I think we should modify that quote of yers. No one can make ye feel dirty without yer permission.”
The tears returned to her eyes. “Thank you.”
He smiled. “We’re good for each other.” He wiped her damp cheeks with his fingers. “Enough sad tears.” He kissed her cheek. “We should be happy.”
She smoothed a hand over his temple and into his hair. “You make me happy.”
“Lass, ye fill every dream in my head and every desire in my heart. I’m falling in love with you.”
She was speechless. She was lost. She opened her mouth to speak, but simply stared at him.
