Deadly Intent (Linked Inc. Book 1) (6 page)

Chapter 9

Collin’s entire body ached, but that didn’t compare to the relief he felt in his heart when he met Quinn’s gaze. They both watched in horror as his truck disappeared from sight. The relief in his body was short-lived when he noticed Quinn collapsing back to the ground. Was she hurt?

He ignored his bruises and pushed through his protesting muscles, getting up to stagger across the road. Quinn lay unmoving. Only the rise and fall of her chest calmed his racing heart. Collin ran his hands over her arms and legs. Scrapes and bruises covered some of her porcelain skin, but nothing appeared to be broken.

“Quinn, luv.” Collin rested his palm on her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze. “Did your curse happen to mention cut brakes?”

“No mention of cut brakes, just disease, death, fire, and ruin.”

“If we hadn’t gotten out, that one ride could have taken care of all of it.” Her gaze lifted to something behind him before she narrowed her eyes. “Clarence, if you weren’t already dead, I’d kill you again.”

“Clarence, the ghost from the States that you’re trying to get rid of?” Collin asked, glancing over his shoulder to find the field and road empty. “I think you hit your head a bit harder than I thought. There’s no one here but us.” He turned back and felt the back of her head for any sign that he was right.

“He’s standing right behind you,” Quinn said, brushing his hands from her body. She tried to shove Collin away, yet he remained unmoving, unsure if she was really unhurt or just annoyed.

“Ask him if he knows who cut the brakes,” Collin suggested while helping her stand. He lowered his gaze down her backside, making sure he hadn’t missed any injuries.

“Whose ass do I need to kick?” Quinn asked, resting her balled fist on her hip. Not even a second later, she tossed her hands into the air and yelled, “Oh, now you’re not talking. What happened to the karaoke, asshole?”

Her red cheeks glistened in the afternoon sun as he picked leaves out of her hair, fighting his urge to run his fingers through her soft tendrils. “It looks like we’re walking.”

“It’s probably better that way. I’d hate for Angus to get hurt too. I don’t think the poor guy could survive a jump from a moving car.”

“Aye. He willnae be driving anywhere until I can ensure his brakes were no’ tampered with.” The thought of anything happening to Angus or Mavis had him clenching and unclenching his fists.

Collin gestured back toward the castle and began to lead her in the middle of the barely traveled rocky road. It would have been quicker to hike through the forest layered with unruly heather, but her first sneeze struck that route home from their list.

Collin pulled the ruby broach from his pocket and handed it to her. “I found this at the cliff’s edge when I saved you earlier.”

“The color of your rival.” She grinned.

“Aye, I guess it is.”

“I’m sure most women like jewels no matter the color. I have a ruby bracelet but I’d never be a McDougall.”

“Aye, you are no McDougall.”

“About the cliff…” She took the pendant and chewed her bottom lip as if she was trying to find the right words. Her usual boisterous demeanor shifted to something more contemplative, a look that he wasn’t used to seeing on her. “The thing is… I didn’t slip.”

Her words muddled his brain and took a minute to register. He eased her to stop walking. “If you dinnae slip, then what?”

“Someone pushed me. I felt the hand on my back, and then next thing I knew, the rock saved me from swimming with Nessie.”

His muscles tensed at the thought. It was unthinkable that someone would want her dead. She hadn’t been in town long enough to make enemies. “Did you see their face? Hear anything?”

“No.” She held out the broach. “Maybe whoever it was dropped that little gem. Any idea who owns it?”

They glanced down at the exquisite stone that he’d once thought beautiful but was now somehow lacking its luster. “I’ve seen it before, but I donae remember where.”

He moved closer to her, unfastened the pin, and attached it to her shirt.

“Aww…is that a token to remember the experience?” She glanced up at him with a raised brow.

“Nay, luv. Wear it as a badge of survival. Whoever it belongs to will think twice about trying again.”

“I like the way you think, big guy.” She patted his chest. “Kind of like a ’screw you’ to the killer.”

Her words made him smile, even though his heart clenched. He’d thought she was here to play out the curse, but what if the death the curse alluded to was hers? He bit back the anger and clenched his fists, vowing that the killer wouldn’t get another chance.

Chapter 10

Collin and Angus checked the Town Car’s brakes before Collin sent Angus into town to pick up Quinn’s things and an order Collin had placed at a small boutique for additional clothes. Silence hung between them as she tried to process what had happened. She’d almost died, and the killer seemed unconcerned about extra casualties. No one was safe.

He’d escorted her to the room to shower and change, like the personal security of a celebrity, before disappearing to make some calls.  After her shower, she walked out into the room to find her luggage and bags of new clothes sitting on the bed.

Quinn’s vow to solve the mystery weighed heavy on her chest. If she didn’t, someone could get hurt. Her lips pinched together as she rubbed her neck, replaying everything in her mind that had happened to try and figure out what, if anything, she’d missed.

She was standing in her bra and underwear, absently digging through her suitcase when the door flew open, pulling her from her thoughts. Collin entered the room. His gaze met hers and dropped from her eyes to her shoulders to her breasts, slowly and seductively sliding down the remainder of her body. The air around her seemed to dance with sparks from an invisible electric charge, and she felt a ripple of excitement. “Do you like what you see?”

“I…uh. I’m sorry to interrupt. I should have knocked.” Collin crossed the threshold with a tray in his hands and shut the door behind him. She should have kicked him out, or clutched clothes to cover her nearly naked body, but all her inhibitions had diminished with her two near-death experiences. Who was she kidding? Inhibitions ranked right up there on her list with vegetables. She didn’t like either.

He watched her seductively, his aura pulsing with need, as he crossed the room to sit the tray on the dresser. He cleared his throat to speak. “Mavis heard about our mishap and wanted me to bring these up. Her way of apologizing for the accident.”

“She wasn’t responsible.” Quinn took a cookie off the plate and bit into it. “But I’ll never turn away her cookies.” She smiled and ate the cookie while pulling some clothes from her bag.

Collin moved behind her. He rested a warm palm on her arm, sending a shock of need and desire coiling through her body. In any other place, she might have thrown herself at him. The thought had crossed her mind.

He placed a tender kiss on her neck, making her sigh in pleasure. The prolonged anticipation to see what he’d do next was almost unbearable. Her pulse quickened in response to the feel of his lips. Had it been so long since she’d had her needs sated?

“Is that your way of apologizing for the accident?”

“Aye, you’re beautiful, Quinn.”

Quinn licked her dry lips. His words sent a tingle of need coursing through her body. She craved more, silently wondering how far he’d let things go.

“I almost died
twice
in your country,” she teased, hoping he’d take the hint.

His hands moved to her hips, and he pulled her flush against his body, wrapping her in a seductive warmth. His heated breath traveled up the column of her neck as he placed kisses against her skin.

She knew the Highlander had a brain, and from the feel of him, he had a lot more notable attributes she would like to explore before saying goodbye to his motherland.

Quinn dropped the clothes back into her bag. She didn’t need them…yet.

“I can kiss all your wounds.”

Her momma would have been appalled at the dirty thoughts coursing through her mind. Her sisters would want a play-by-play. Quinn reached between their bodies and ran her hand over his jean-covered crotch. “This would be easier if you had on your skirt.”

“Next time,” he whispered before spinning her in his arms and crushing his lips against hers. He tasted of chocolate chip cookies. She smiled against his lips.

“You stole a cookie,” she whispered. Her voice came out husky and wanting as his lips traveled down the other side of her neck while one hand moved to unhook her bra.

“I plan to steal a lot more than your cookies,” he said as the bra slid to the floor. His gaze landed on the cuts on her chest from the car incident, and it was as if someone flipped a switch. His touch gentled, and his brows dipped.

Gone was the brazen Highlander who looked ready to ravish her. Her cheeks heated as she watched him slowly pull away. The cuts on her chest vaporized her chances of joining the foreign affair touchdown club. Surely they had something similar to the mile-high club but for tourists who were looking to score.

“I’m sorry.” He dropped his hold and took a step back, putting more space between them and breaking whatever hold he’d had over her. “I donae know what came over me.” He met her gaze. “When I’m near you, I cannae help myself.”

“Why would you want to?” She had two choices. One to let him walk out the door and let her libido die down to a simmer or the second…to finish stripping and get the extra points.

The decision was ripped away when he turned and stormed out the door, leaving her trying to calm her racing heart.

“Nice…my first play was a fumble.” Quinn was left hot and bothered. She couldn’t deny she wanted him and wouldn’t turn him away. Two more minutes and Collin would have gotten more than a simple thank-you for delivering her cookies. It wasn’t as though he would have been a one-night stand. More like several nights, had she gotten her way. Sleeping with him would have been a more pleasant way to pass the time than trying to unravel a curse she didn’t believe in. She needed to get to the bottom of things and quick. It was time she had her chat with Gwinnie, and she knew just where to find her.

  After dressing, she wound her way through the castle, ignoring the look of hatred from the blonde Barbie as she passed. She’d started up the small staircase, taking two steps at a time, but by the time she reached the top, she was gasping for air and clutching her side. Her desire to talk to the ghost slowly dwindled with each step. The door to the tower stood open. Gwinnie herself stood in the middle of the room as Quinn entered. The apparition pointed toward the painting leaning up against the wall. A satin-dressed version of Quinn stared back at herself. A shiver skirted down her spine as she gazed upon it, inspecting each paint stroke. A ruby comb poked out of the unruly red hair. The woman in the painting had Quinn’s mother’s eyes and her father’s cheekbones. The lady in the picture could have been Quinn’s twin.

Quinn shook her head. This was impossible. She didn’t believe in curses. “Your gypsy was a medium. She must have actually seen me coming.”

“Aye,” the ghost answered. “She did, and you must leave.”

“Why?” Quinn asked, yanking the sheets off the other paintings that Collin had told her about to get an overall picture of what the medium had seen.

“They must never know how the emerald disappeared. Some mysteries are never meant to be solved.”

“I hate to break it to you, lady, but I plan to figure this out.” Quinn turned to find that Gwinnie vanished, replaced by the big, brooding, red-bearded Highlander.

“’Tis better if you leave the sins of the past where they lie to save your own life.”

Quinn tilted her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why is everyone trying so hard to get me to leave? Your warning is a little late, by the way. Someone has already tried to kill me twice, and I’m still kicking.” Quinn turned back to the paintings and slowly moved down each one until she stood in front of the one depicting someone handing over the stone to an unseen person. Both hands in the picture were those of men. “Help me solve this.”

The ghost shimmered to hover beside her, leaving the entire right side of her body ice cold. “You’d risk your life for the Menzie name?”

“I don’t know about that, but my momma didn’t raise me to run from my issues, and she did have the common sense to teach me right from wrong. There is something real and wrong going on here, which someone is willing to kill for, and I plan to find out exactly what it is.”

“You could die,” he grumbled as he studied her. Interest twinkled in his eyes, as if he was sizing her up for the challenge ahead.

“And Scotland could be overrun with pizza joints. Are you going to help me?”

His hardened gaze narrowed onto hers, so she mimicked his look. If he thought a simple disgruntled look would dissuade her, he’d never met her family.

“Find this book and you’ll find your answers, but donae say I dinnae warn you.” He swished over to the third painting of an old library. He gestured to one of the books in particular, making her step closer. The faded black, worn-out spine had symbols down the length instead of words. 

“What does it mean?” she asked and turned to find Redbeard had vanished.

“What is it with you Scotts needing better manners?” Quinn yelled out just as Collin walked into the room.

“Who you yelling at, luv?” he asked, gazing around the empty room.

“Redbeard, your relative.”

“Ah.” He gave a slow nod. “You might have a point then. His mother ruled the castle with an iron fist. It’s said that the staff and nobles alike were afraid of her.”

“So, Redbeard’s mom was Gwinnie’s mother-in-law? Gwinnie and he were married?”

“Aye.”

“That explains a lot,” Quinn said, grabbing the sheets and recovering the pictures.

“Quinn.” Collin rested a gentle hand on her arm. “We should talk about what happened in your chamber.”

“Nothing to say. For a brief minute, you wanted me. I saw the need in your eyes, but it’s fine. My sexy American awesomeness scared you. It happens. It’s okay, really.” She smiled up at him, even though the wall around her heart had a new fissure. “I’m arm candy to ward off Blondie. There’s no need to pretend behind closed doors.”

“That’s no’ it.” Collin’s voice lowered to a deep timbre. “You’ve almost died twice since you’ve been here. I cannae seem to stop the attacks, but if I bed you, I’ll be even more distracted. Maybe ’tis best if Angus drives you over to the next town where there’s lodging, and maybe you’ll be safe. I cannae help but feel getting you away from the castle would redirect the attacks.”

Quinn rolled her eyes and patted his chest. She couldn’t help it. He was like a new toy that she’d been told not to play with. “First of all, you helped me up the cliff; I’ll give you that, but I didn’t die the first time or the second. Ye of little faith. But if you want me gone, I’ll go.”

“This isnae about what I want. I’m trying to do the right thing.”              

“So am I considering I’m stuck on your mothership and you have my face painted on canvas like your own personal Guinevere. I’m going to do the right thing and help you.” She patted his chest. “So it’s settled. I’m staying.” Quinn sidestepped him and sashayed out of the room with a little more sway in her steps, teasing and taunting him with her assets, which he’d denied himself the pleasure of getting to know better.

He followed as she jogged down the steps and made her way into the main entrance hall where she was halted by a parade of men carrying tables and chairs toward the ballroom. She’d forgotten all about the party.

“Come with me.” Collin caught up to her and took her hand, pulling Quinn toward the kitchen and out the back entrance where she’d tried to use her cellphone.

“You need better cell service,” she announced out of the blue.

“I need a lot of things,” he countered with a glance over his shoulder as he continued pulling her toward a little house on the property.

“Who lives there?” she asked, slipping her fingers free.

“Garth, the caretaker, but that’s no’ where we’re going.”

A seven-foot, big, burly man stepped out of the worn shack with an ax in his grip. Harness, the white-haired dog, was by his side. A long, dark beard hung down the man’s flannel shirt, and his dark gaze watched them. He reminded her of a cross between a lumberjack and a serial killer, and by the way he was looking at them, she guessed the latter. Quinn stumbled, and Collin caught her arm before she fell flat on her face.

She followed Collin and climbed the little Mt. Everest, wondering where on earth he was taking her. They crossed the bridge and entered the clearing where she’d seen him the first time on horseback. Her nose twitched in anticipation of nature surrounding her.

“I’m not going into the forest.” She stopped and propped a hand on her hip. Suffering from hayfever was not on her agenda for the night.

He let out a resigned sigh before sweeping her up into his arms. She could have protested if she’d wanted, but she didn’t bother. It wasn’t every day she was pressed up against a hard, manly chest. If nothing else, she’d remember the feeling and use it as material for her dreams.

“I’d never take you into the forest.”

Collin headed to the end of the clearing, where a small house, identical to the caretaker’s, sat. He lowered Quinn to her feet, letting her soft body slide down his length. His hard-on pressed against the apex of her thighs as he opened the door and ushered her inside.

She expected cobwebs, dust, and worse, but the small cabin was as clean as the room she was staying in. The furnishings were humble and made of solid wood, the cooking items antique. She loved every part of the small little house down to the beautiful blue quilt folded at the foot of the bed.