Moving in with Adam
Author
Jeanne Allan
Reads
17.0K
Chapters
10
Chapter 1
WHY did things like this always happen to her? Of all the places for a stupid nail to stick up…An experimental move confirmed the situation was as hopeless as it was ludicrous. The nail had securely skewered her jeans to the window frame.
“Don’t stop there. Come all the way in.”
The disembodied voice springing from the darkness sent Sunny’s heart leaping to her throat. “Who’s there?” she asked in alarm, blinking as light flooded the room. A huge, dark-haired man stared ominously at her from the other side of Blythe’s kitchen. Sunny’s mouth went dry. “Who are you?” she croaked. “What are you doing in Blythe’s house?”
The man’s clothing slowly registered on her brain. Black sweatpants, a black sweatshirt and black running shoes. He needed a shave. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the man was a criminal. A criminal she’d interrupted in the middle of burgling her sister’s vacation house. Fighting waves of fear that threatened to engulf her, Sunny clamped her fingers on the wooden windowsill.
“I’ll ask the questions,” the burglar said coldly. “Get in here.”
“I can’t,” Sunny blurted. “I’m stuck on a nail.” Instantly she realized she’d stupidly informed a hardened criminal she was trapped and at his mercy. Don’t let him know you’re scared, she told herself. She had to try and bluff her way out of this mess. “I’m not answering any questions until you tell me who you are.”
His lips quirked at her ignominious predicament. “You’re pretty cocky for a punk who’s nailed to the window.” He strolled across the floor to rest a hip on the wooden kitchen table, his gaze never leaving her face.
Sunny couldn’t decide whether his amusement at her situation meant more or less danger to her. Deciding she’d rather not know, surreptitiously she renewed her efforts to free herself from the traitorous nail. To no avail. She was firmly caught. There’d be no escape that way; she’d have to rely on her wits. What she had left of them. Plastering what was undoubtedly the world’s sickliest smile on her face, Sunny said, “You know what? I’ll bet I’m in the wrong house.”
“Honey, you’re assuredly in the wrong house.”
Under the circumstances, overlooking the sarcastically offensive endearment seemed prudent. “Yes, well, as soon as I get loose, I’ll be gone.” A brilliant idea struck her. If she pretended she thought he lived in the house, he’d never suspect she’d guessed his larcenous intentions. “I’m sorry I bothered you. In your own house,” she added.
He lifted a dark, mocking eyebrow. “A minute ago you said it was Blythe’s house.” Leisurely he shifted his hip from the table, rose to his full height and took a step in her direction.
“I obviously made a mistake,” she said hastily. Not that she expected for a second to convince him of that. Burglars knew whose house they were burgling.
“You made a mistake all right, honey, thinking this house would be easy pickings for a female urchin such as yourself.” Moving toward her until he stood only a few feet away, the thief inspected her as if she were a particularly nasty species of insect.
Sunny knew exactly what he was seeing. Knowing the day’s drive would be long, she hadn’t inserted her contact lenses and dark-rimmed glasses framed her eyes. A frayed, brown knit cap failed to hide dark braids, and Grumps’s faded jacket was stained from years of gardening. But even if she did look like something the cat dragged in, it wasn’t this criminal’s place to sit in contemptuous judgment of her. He was the one who had no business being in Blythe’s house.
Now, however, was hardly the time to gird herself in righteous indignation. First she had to free herself and get to the police. Then this overage juvenile delinquent would get his comeuppance. Her heartbeat speeded up to triple time as he moved closer and stopped directly in front of her. A head taller than her five feet three inches, he loomed menacingly over her. She forced herself to look up at him, her throat stretched and raw with the effort to contain the screams she felt rising there. “If you’ll just help me get loose,” she said desperately, “we can both go about our business.”
He pressed his palm against her throat, his fingers encircling her neck, and stared thoughtfully down into her upturned face. “Hasn’t anyone told you what happens to little girls who run around after dark playing dangerous games?”
She swallowed hard. “I’m not—” His mouth cut off her denial. A hard mouth, pressing a punishing kiss against her lips. She tried to break free, but his hands grabbed her braids and held her captive.
“A little girl like you should be worried about a bogeyman dragging you off to his bed.”
Before Sunny could protest his monstrous conduct, his mouth was once again pressed against hers. Only this time his lips were soft and persuasive. Heat from his mouth flashed through her. Fear and anger combined to give her strength, and Sunny thrust all her weight against his chest. She’d have had more success moving the Rock of Gibraltar.
He raised his head, looking down at her with hooded eyes. “Hopefully that will teach you to stay home at night. The dark holds all kinds of dangers for little girls like you.”
“I’m twenty-five,” she spat before she realized how inappropriate the remark was.
His teeth flashed white in a forest of black stubble. “Then you’re too old and too inept to begin a life of crime.”
Amusement only slightly softened the harsh, cynical face. Black hair, almost blue under the kitchen lights, was brushed with premature gray on the temples. Mocking laughter lurked deep within black-brown eyes. The dimple in the dark, rough chin was ridiculously out of place on a man so overwhelmingly masculine.
“If you’re through taking inventory,” he said dryly, “perhaps we could get back to the subject at hand.”
Sunny’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment, but she wasn’t about to let this gargantuan throwback from the Stone Age know she was terrified. Especially since it appeared he was so arrogant it hadn’t occurred to him she might pose a threat. Why should it? She didn’t see a weapon, but it didn’t take a genius to realize it wasn’t fat sculpting his body. He could overpower her in seconds, especially nailed as she was to the window.
She gave him a persuasive smile. “I’d appreciate it if you could help me.”
His answering smile parodied hers. “I’m still waiting to hear who you are.”
“It doesn’t matter. You might say we’re just two ships passing in the night. So to speak,” she added lamely.
“I’ll decide what matters. Tell me who you are,” his every pore reeked with menace, “and why you’re breaking into the Reeces’ house?”
“Sunny Taite,” she said instantly. Craven and stupid, that’s what she was. Any ignoramus knew enough to give a false name. Yeah, and ignoramuses probably didn’t have escapees from Alcatraz scowling dangerously at them. “And I’m not breaking in. I’m Blythe Reece’s sister.”
“Blythe Reece’s sister,” he repeated skeptically. Reaching for her again, he pulled her back against his chest and felt beneath her for the guilty nail. “Are only your jeans caught?” At her nod, he gave a quick tug and the sound of rending fabric ripped through the room before he set Sunny down on the kitchen floor.
“Thank you.” Holding a hand behind her over the damage, Sunny backed unsteadily away from him toward the back door. “I’ll leave now. Thanks again.”
Iron fingers closed about her arm. “You wanted in. You’re in. Why hurry away, Blythe Reece’s sister?”
His tone of voice made it clear he didn’t believe her. Did burglars worry about competition? No honor among thieves and all that…? She’d better convince him she was who she was. Then she’d figure out how to escape.
“I’m Blythe’s sister, and—” She glanced wildly around. “I can prove it.” Sunny nodded in the direction of the front of the house. “In there. Photographs. Me with Blythe, me with Mom, and Blythe and me with the boys.”
An imperious hand in the small of her back propelled her across the kitchen toward the sitting area. The burglar snapped on another light and in turn inspected the photographs and Sunny’s countenance, all the while maintaining his firm grip on her arm. Forced to stand much too close to him, Sunny was intensely aware of him, and she wasn’t real crazy about the sneaking suspicion that tingling nerve endings and a heightened awareness of blood coursing through her veins had less to do with fear and more to do with the burglar’s devastating masculinity.
She was clearly a deranged idiot. The man was a brute and a thief. No woman in charge of her mental faculties could possibly think of him in terms of sexual attraction. No wonder she’d come close to flunking chemistry in high school.
“I guess you are who you claim to be.” He slowly raked her body with a cool gaze. “So you’re a sister of the sophisticated Denver socialite, Blythe Reece.” One corner of his mouth curved upward. “I’d never have believed any sister of hers would be caught dead dressed as you are.”
Sunny stiffened. “I’m Blythe’s sister, not her clone.” She shook loose of his grip. “And what makes you the expert on Blythe?” He didn’t need to answer because the answer was obvious. “You snooped through her dresser drawers. That’s repulsive.”
The sudden narrowing of his eyes reminded her that offending this man could be dangerous. In the large room, a clock steadily ticked off the minutes, the innocent sound somehow ominous. Sunny attempted an ingratiating smile. “Never mind. Let’s both just forget about this whole little incident.”
“Blythe Reece being your sister doesn’t explain why you were entering her house through a back window.” He eyed her thoughtfully. “Or explain why you turned off your lights as you drove up the street and why you killed the car engine and coasted into the driveway.”
“There were deer in the yard and I didn’t want to spook them.”
“I didn’t see any deer.”
“They ran away.”
“And I suppose a bear was standing beside the front door making it necessary for you to come in through a window.”
A burglar was bad enough, but a sarcastic one was beyond bearing. The nerve of him grilling her when he was the common criminal. “I’m not the burglar,” she flashed. “I’m not the one dressed in black from head to toe.” As her words echoed beneath the tall ceiling, Sunny’s stomach heaved. She was certainly winning bonus points for stupidity tonight. Why didn’t she just invite him to shoot her?
He stared blankly at her before his lips slanted wickedly. “Had I realized I would be entertaining, I would have worn a tuxedo.” His eyes glinted with silent laughter.
Once again Sunny’s brain insisted on sending mixed messages. One side told her to run; the other noticed how darned attractive laughing brown eyes could be.
Why hadn’t her mother told her insanity ran in the family?
“Well, it’s been nice meeting you.” She sidled toward the door. “On second thought, I think I’ll just spend the night in Denver with Blythe.” The heck she’d go to Denver. She’d drive straight to the police station. This man was probably the slickest thief who ever lifted a pair of diamond earrings. She took a couple more furtive steps. The door wasn’t that far away. Maybe if she ran fast…
Reaching lazily out, he wrapped his large hand around her wrist and plucked her back. “You haven’t satisfied my curiosity as to why you were coming through the window.”
“What difference does it make? Why are you so obsessed with how I get into my sister’s house? I’m not interrogating you, and you’re the one in the middle of stealing whatever it is you steal.”
Great going, Sunny, she mentally fumed. The last thing she needed to do was irritate someone who undoubtedly headed the FBI’s Most Wanted list. Don’t show fear, she reminded herself.
“Let go of my arm. You can’t scare me. Everyone knows burglars avoid murder and mayhem because if they hurt anyone while committing a crime, the penalties when they are caught are more severe.”
A look of secretive mirth flashed across his face. “If they are caught.” He propped a shoulder against the wall. His viselike hand holding her wrist, he ran the fingers of his other hand up and down her arm. “I don’t mind’ occasional mayhem—” he played aimlessly with her fingers “—if it gets me what I want. And right now I want to know why you were coming through that window.”
Sunny’s fledgling confidence that he wouldn’t hurt her instantly evaporated. Surely he wasn’t thinking of breaking her fingers. That happened in the movies, not in her sister’s vacation house in Estes Park, Colorado. Sunny couldn’t decide if she was about to giggle out of nervousness, sheer terror, or because the whole situation was so ludicrous. “Blythe loaned me the use of her house.”
“But not the use of her front door,” he said, the words coated with heavy sarcasm.
“She told me to come through the window…” His unblinking stare further unnerved her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I find it hard to believe Mrs. Reece would instruct her sister to come through the window.” He rubbed his finger over her knuckle.
Tempted as she was to spit in his eye, the look on his face, not to mention his size and the way he was holding her middle finger, persuaded her it would be far wiser to explain. “Blythe couldn’t find the key.” Improvising rapidly, Sunny widened her eyes to convey sincerity. “And she told me if I jiggled the window lock it would come undone. Daniel and David, my nephews, do it all the time.”
“I’m sure they do. And I’m equally sure their mother knows nothing of the broken lock.”
“Of course she does. How many times do I have to tell you…?” She read the answer on his face. “Oh, all right. Blythe doesn’t know I’m here. I mean, it’s OK. She offered me the use of her place. I didn’t tell her I was coming because I didn’t want to stop in Denver to pick up the key. Blythe would have a fit if I didn’t stay there, and I didn’t want to stay. I was going to call her as soon as I got in.”
“So your sister has no idea you’re here.”
Appalled by her own stupidity, Sunny opened her mouth but no words came out. The knowing grin on his face told her he was having no trouble reading her thoughts. She managed a feeble smile.
“Well, not exactly, that is, I left a message on her answering machine. She’ll know by now I’m here. And she’ll be calling any minute to check on me.” The cynical disbelief on his face spurred her on. “She’s my older sister. You know how they are. Well, maybe you don’t, because maybe you don’t even have an older sister. I mean, I really don’t know anything about you, do I? And naturally I have no idea where you live and I probably couldn’t even describe you to the police…”
She faltered momentarily. “I don’t know what made me say that about the police, because of course I have no intention of calling them, because after all, you were nice enough to help me, and, uh, friends don’t, uh, rat on friends, do they?” she finished in a rush, not liking the growing amusement in his dark eyes.
Suddenly the emotions of the long day’s incredible events, combined with exhaustion, sapped the strength from Sunny’s legs. She slumped to her knees. Only the thief’s grip prevented her from sprawling full-length on the floor. Humiliating tears burned her eyes, and she wiped ineffectually at the moisture.
He stooped down beside her, a dark frown on his face. “What’s the matter? Instead of playing cute little games with me…” He roughly rubbed a tear from her cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me you injured yourself climbing through the window?”
Sunny tried to fend off the hands probing along her legs and thighs. “Stop it. I’m not hurt.”
He sat back on his haunches steadily scrutinizing her face. “How far did you drive today?”
She closed her eyes under his intense gaze. “Too far.” Sensing his impatience, she added wearily, “From Omaha.”
“Have you been ill?”
The angry undercurrent to his voice told her she’d better answer. “I had the flu.”
He bit off an expletive. “When did you last eat?”
Sunny dragged open her eyelids. “I don’t know. I had a hamburger somewhere for lunch. I intended to eat dinner as soon as I got here.” Perverseness made her add, “Unfortunately, I got distracted.”
He snorted. “Come sit in the kitchen where I can keep an eye on you.” Giving her no opportunity to argue, he hauled her up from the floor and back into the kitchen where he propped her on a wooden chair. Opening and slamming cupboard doors, he said over his shoulder, “It looks like you’ll have to make do with canned soup. Unless you brought some supplies with you.”
“They have grocery stores in Estes Park,” she said defensively. “And I can fix my own soup.” She started to stand.
He pushed her none too gently back down. “I said sit.”
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those burglars who cooks in every house he robs.”
He took a mug of soup from the microwave and set it in front of her. “What do you do? Spend your days reading the tabloids? I’ve never heard such a hodgepodge of nonsense about burglars.”
The soup warmed all the way down, and Sunny could feel the strength flowing back into her muscles. “I’m sure my knowledge doesn’t begin to compare with your actual experience. You’re probably known to every policeman in a four-state area.”
“I don’t know about four states.” His eyes brimmed with mirth. “But I know my share of policemen.” Tossing a box of crackers on the table, he sat down across from her. “Not for the reason you’ve dreamed up, however. Before you decide to go dashing off into the night in search of rescue, let me assure you I’m not a burglar, and I’m not wanted by the police.”
“Right.” Sunny bit into a cracker. It was amazing how a little food gave one courage. “You just happened to be standing in the middle of Blythe’s empty, dark house when I arrived.”
“Since you appear to be so knowledgable about larcenous behavior, you ought to know no burglar in his right mind would have stuck around for conversation once he heard you coming through the window.”
“It’s too bad you didn’t hear me, isn’t it?”
He grinned. “Honey, you made more noise coming through that window than a Sherman tank.”
“Well, excuse me for not having your expertise when it comes to breaking and entering.” She chewed thoughtfully. “Did you luck into an unlocked door or window? Or are you one of those burglars who never met a lock he couldn’t pick?”
“Actually…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a house key, dangling it over the table. “I came in the front door.”
“Are you telling me that key is to the Reeces’ front door? Where did you get it?” She attempted to snatch the key.
He held it out of her reach. “From Dillon Reece.”
“I don’t believe you. Why would he give you the key?”
“To keep an eye on his house.”
He might have mentioned earlier that he was a security guard, Sunny thought indignantly. “Well, now that you’ve done your bit to stem the rising tide of crime, you can give me the house key and run along home.”
He stuck the key back in his pocket. “I could.” He gave her a considering look. “You claim to be twenty-five,” he emphasized the number, “but you look like a teenager. I’m still a little concerned about your method of egress here. Sure you’re not a runaway? Do your parents know where you are?”
Sunny slammed the empty soup mug on the table. Digging in her jacket pocket, she extracted her billfold and threw it at him. “Check my driver’s license.”
He flipped through the contents. “Sonia Taite?”
“I was named after a great-aunt. Everyone calls me Sunny.” She took back her wallet. “Are you satisfied now? I’m twenty-five years old and I haven’t run away from home.” At least, not the way he thought.
“Altering a birth date on a driver’s license is the oldest trick in the world.”
“You are absolutely the most suspicious person I’ve ever met in my life. Do you see spies under your bed and murderers around every corner? This is Estes Park, Colorado. Small town, U.S.A. Not exactly the crime capital of the world.”
He ignored her outburst. “How ill have you been? Are you still under a doctor’s care?”
“All I had was a slight case of the flu.” Shoving back her chair, she stood up. “Do you think we can cut short the inquisition? I’ve had a long day.”
“Maybe you ought to spend the night at my place.”
“I’m not going anywhere near your place, and if you try and drag me into your bedroom, I’ll scream so loudly, Blythe will hear me clear down in Denver.”
“What an inventive mind you have. Believe me, you have nothing to worry about along those lines. I happen to be rather fastidious about whom I invite into my bed.” In an abrupt change of subject, he said, “Give me your car keys.”
Sunny ground her teeth. “No, I am not going to give you my car keys. I am not going to spend the night at your place. I am not going to put up with you for one more second. I don’t care if you’re a member of the CIA, if you don’t go away this very second, I am going to have an absolute, screaming fit.”
He stared at her a long moment, his forehead wrinkled in thought. “You still look awfully pale, but all right,” he finally said. “You can stay here tonight.”
“How very kind and gracious of you to allow me to stay in my own sister’s house. Now, go away. You don’t even need to bother to apologize for your outrageous conduct.”
“I have no intention of apologizing for being a conscientious neighbor.”
“Neighbor?”
He paused at the back door. “I have the place next door.”
Sunny shook her head. “I happen to know all about their next door neighbor, and you’re not him. He’s a big, ugly, dark-browed brute, a rude, surly hermit who hates women and children. To say he’s a crabby curmudgeon would be flattering him. He’s bad-tempered—” At the strange look on his face, she stopped midsentence and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my goodness.” A weak giggle escaped her. “You are the neighbor.”
“Adam Traherne.” He sketched a mocking salute. “As delightful as our visit has been, I’ll say good-night.”
The door closed behind him with a loud snap. Sunny stared blankly at the door. She was finally alone, but her mind refused to operate. The task of washing the few dishes Adam Traherne had used seemed monumental. Driving five hundred miles in one day by herself had been crazy. Overwhelming fatigue claimed her body. Folding her arms on the table to prop herself up, Sunny decided, in her present condition, coping with Blythe was out of the question.
Blythe would demand answers Sunny didn’t have. All she knew was this morning she’d awakened in Omaha, Nebraska, trembling from the aftermath of a nightmare in which a dark, heavy cloak had floated slowly, inexorably down to completely smother her. Chilled, her heart thudding, she’d wanted nothing more than to burrow deeply beneath her blankets and never come out.
Of course Grumps had had a great deal to say about that. Not even the cold, depressing sound of rain splattering against the windows had changed his mind. The only battle she’d won was driving to Colorado instead of flying. Even Grumps had conceded she’d need her car if she wasn’t to be a prisoner of Blythe’s wellmeaning, but suffocating, older-sister solicitousness.
An hour out of Omaha on Interstate 80, her car headed west, the idea had come to Sunny. She’d go directly to the empty house in Estes Park. No friends or relatives. No phone. No letters. No Blythe with the inevitable custard pudding or chicken soup. Just peace and solitude.
Then had come the nail. And Adam Traherne. Laying her head on her crossed forearms, Sunny surrendered to semihysterical giggles. Adam Traherne. Blythe’s ranting and raving about the man who’d recently built a vacation home next to the Reeces’ mountain home had dominated Blythe’s long-distance phone calls to her younger sister ever since the man had moved in.
His first sin had been refusing an invitation to one of Blythe’s summer barbecues. His second was complaining about the Reece sons. Blythe might be every inch the elegant sophisticated socialite Adam Traherne had described, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a tigress when it came to her three boys. She and Adam Traherne had clashed over teenage behavior more than once.
According to Blythe, the man was totally unreasonable when it came to balls accidentally bouncing against the side of his house, and obviously he’d forgotten his youth, the way he carried on about noise. The kids and the radios were in her yard, Blythe had emphasized repeatedly in her phone conversations with Sunny. Sunny closed her eyes. When Blythe was in a temper, she wouldn’t see an elephant charging her. Which is probably why she hadn’t noticed the dimple in Adam Traherne’s chin.
* * *
Sunny spent an exhausted, restless night anticipating a phone call which never came. She’d been positive Adam Traherne would run straight to his phone to call up the Reeces to report on Sunny’s presence in their vacation home. Of course, Blythe not phoning didn’t necessarily mean Adam Traherne hadn’t contacted her. Blythe was quite capable of being too furious with her baby sister to speak to her. She wouldn’t be happy Sunny had thwarted her plans. The suggestion that Sunny come to Colorado had been Blythe’s. A change of scene would be the best medicine, she’d said, offering the Reeces’ summer home in Estes Park, a small resort community at the gates of Rocky Mountain National Park. Grumps had leapt at the invitation.
Sunny was well aware her older sister had offered the mountain vacation home with every intention of keeping Sunny in Denver. And she suspected Grumps thought so, too, or he wouldn’t have given in on the matter of her driving. Two days, he’d insisted. She was to take two days to make the trip. Grumps’s and Blythe’s belief that Sunny was spending one night enroute in a motel is what had enabled her to circumvent their plans.
Now Sunny had to call Blythe and confess what she’d done. No doubt Blythe had figured out the exact minute when Sunny should be driving into the driveway of the Reeces’ Denver home. When Sunny didn’t, Blythe was fully capable of setting every law enforcement agency between Omaha and Denver on Sunny’s trail.
Taking a deep breath, Sunny picked up the phone. Thirty minutes later she hung up, Blythe’s recriminations and advice ringing in her ear. Blythe was not pleased Sunny had slipped past Denver without stopping. Blythe didn’t believe in indulging illness. Fresh air, getting out, keeping busy were Blythe’s remedies. Sunny’s throat choked her as she studied hands held out in front of her. Hands that felt more like smashing and slashing in anger than painting dainty flowers or creating fairy tales.
Standing in the back of the house, in the huge Lshaped room that served as kitchen, dining area and sitting room, Sunny rubbed her chilled arms. A ceiling braced with heavy beams soared high above her. On clear days the huge windows draped with a faded floral print framed a breathtaking view of Longs Peak. Today, late in October, the foul weather lashed at the glass panes while low clouds and spitting snow shrouded the mountain peaks.
Shivering, Sunny grabbed a worn quilt tossed over one of the heavy Mission oak chairs and draped it over her shoulders. Coming here had been a mistake. If she’d had to go somewhere, a cruise would have been better. Pampered passengers lolling around the decks, their every whim instantly met. Pure, unadulterated selfindulgence. Handsome ship officers dancing attendance on unattached women. Her mouth turned down. With her luck, every male on board would be accompanied by a wife or over eighty or a gigolo looking for a heiress.
Or else an anachronistic throwback to Medieval times such as the busybody next door. For all his protestations of watching a neighbor’s house, not such a busybody that he’d called Blythe. Which made one wonder. Maybe he didn’t want Blythe to know he had a key to her house. He claimed Dillon had given it to him, but saying something didn’t make it true. She ought to ask Blythe, but her sister was bound to react to the question in some way that Sunny was simply too drained to deal with. Besides, there could be no earthly reason for Adam Traherne to steal his neighbor’s house key. Obviously Dillon had given the key to his neighbor as a security measure. And knowing his wife’s dislike of the man, Dillon had deliberately neglected to mention that fact to Blythe.
Blythe only thought she knew everything. She hadn’t known about the faulty latch. Protecting her nephews, Sunny claimed she’d discovered it on her previous visit and promised to have it fixed as soon as possible. Anything to get Blythe off the topic before her sisterly radar picked up the slightest suggestion that Sunny wasn’t being entirely forthcoming on the subject of her entry into the house. If Blythe knew her villainous neighbor had kissed her little sister, she’d rush to Estes and drag Sunny back to Denver.
Memories of a dark, brooding face leaning down toward her invaded Sunny’s thoughts, as they had, with disturbing regularity, throughout the morning. Only because the man gave her the creeps. Any chills he sent up and down her backbone were from distaste. Dark brooding heroes held no appeal. Adam Traherne was more suited to play the role of a mad killer or a gangster on the lam. A black, double-breasted, pin-striped suit with a black fedora pulled low over his brow and an Uzi resting on his hips would suit him to perfection.
From habit, she’d brought her drawing materials, and they lay on the table where she’d tossed them after unpacking her car. Sitting down, Sunny stared at them. Hesitantly she reached for the pad and a pencil. The pencil felt awkward in her hand. There was a small thud as it fell back on the table. The fingers on her right hand slowly flexed, and she groped toward the pencil. The sketch pad was open to a blank page. Slowly Sunny raised the pencil. A black line appeared on the paper.
The dimple in Adam Traherne’s chin begged for caricature, but she resisted, barely sketching it in. More interesting was the malevolent air that could be suggested by piercing black eyes and dark stubble. An hour later Sunny sat back and stretched tight muscles, at the same time appraising the drawing propped on the table. If this man wasn’t wanted by the FBI, the CIA, and Interpol, he should be. The piercing summons of the front door bell interrupted her.
A middle aged man standing on the doorstep stuck out his hand. “Afternoon. Jeb from the hardware store. I’m here about the window.”
“Window?”
“Man said the lock was broken and he wanted it fixed.”
“Oh. It’s this way.” Sunny stood back, allowing the repairman to enter. Blythe must have called Dillon the minute Sunny hung up. “In the kitchen.”
Jeb was garrulous but efficient, and he soon departed, leaving behind a securely locked window. Blythe had told Sunny where to find an extra key, thankfully sparing her the danger of another run-in with any neighbor. If Sunny never saw a certain hulking brute again, she’d be ecstatic. An opinion, she was absolutely positive, that the hulking brute shared.
