The Rogue Hunter (26 page)

This time she was the one to win the round and it was Mortimer's turn to wait anxiously for her question as he gathered the cards and began to shuffle them.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Sam asked after a pause.

Mortimer stilled and then nodded. "Two brothers."

"Really?" she asked with surprise and then bit her lip and muttered, "That's kind of weird, isn't it?"

"It is?" Mortimer asked with confusion.

"Well…" She grimaced and said, "It's just you have two brothers, I have two sisters. Your parents died in a house fire, and mine in a car accident where the car exploded."

"Their car exploded?" Mortimer asked. She hadn't mentioned that earlier, and if she hadn't it was probably because thinking about it upset her, he thought with a frown as Sam nodded in answer to his question. He hesitated briefly, but had to ask, "Were they killed by the accident or—"

Sam shook her head and he didn't bother finishing the question. Her parents had burned to death like his own. And that was about enough serious conversation for one night, Mortimer decided, and reached for the bottle of wine to top up their glasses as he said, "There's a DVD player hooked up to that TV and a shelf full of DVDs in my room, most of them comedies. Do you like comedies?"

"I love comedies," she said, brightening visibly.

"Good. Let's watch a comedy."

"Okay," she said, standing up. "You pick it, and I'll move the wine and strudel over to the table."

Nodding, Mortimer stood and moved up the hall to his room. He picked three or four comedies from the shelf and took them out to Sam. He found her just settling on the small couch with their wine and goodies spread out on the coffee table before her. She considered the movies he held out and, apparently unable to decide, did a quick "Eenie, meenie, minie mo."

Chuckling at her sophisticated selection process, Mortimer turned on the television and DVD player, slid the movie in, then grabbed the remotes and moved to join her on the couch. She was seated primly on one side of the couch, leaving him plenty of room on his own. Mortimer didn't intend to use it, however. He had an urge to cuddle up with her on the little love seat while they watched the show… or maybe didn't watch the show, he thought hopefully, and then caught a whiff of her as he reached the couch. Mortimer froze.

"Mortimer? Is something wrong?" Sam asked when he continued to just stand there, and he felt his mouth twist at the question.

"No," he growled, and abruptly settled on his side of the love seat, as far from her as he could get without actually choosing another seat. The movie had been his idea, he could hardly back out of it now, but the moment it was over he needed to find an excuse to go out. In the meantime, he needed to keep as much distance as he could between them… and maybe try not to breathe in her scent.

Mortimer rolled his eyes at the thought, and then forced himself to turn his attention to the movie as it started, hoping it would be distracting enough to help him ignore the smell presently tantalizing his nostrils. It was a useless hope. Sam seemed to enjoy the movie and laughed several times, but he didn't have a clue what was happening on the screen. His mind was completely and utterly wrapped up in the fragrant aroma wafting off Sam and rolling across the love seat to surround him. Eau de Sam was a heady mix that was making his mouth water to the point that Mortimer feared drooling all over himself.

It was a great relief when the movie ended. He was off the couch and ejecting the DVD almost before the first credit began to roll down the screen. Mortimer popped the disc into its case and turned back toward the couch, his mouth opening, but then paused. Sam was yawning. Beaming at her as if she'd done something clever, he said, "You're all in. I guess we should call it a night."

"Oh." Sam looked startled at the suggestion, but hesitated, and he knew from the uncertainty that crossed her face that she wasn't sure if she should assure him she was fine to continue, or if he wished to end the evening. Mortimer held his tongue, silently praying she'd simply go to bed.

He was in dire need of blood and desperate to get her off to bed so that he could slip out and find some. Between his time in the sun and his head wound, Mortimer had run through the supply he'd brought back with him. The head wound had been much more serious than he'd led Sam to believe. He'd hit the rock under the surface of the water at whiplash speed and suspected he'd fractured his skull. It was why he'd rushed back ahead of her and locked himself in his room. There was no way she would have taken no for an answer about going to the hospital had she seen it.

Mortimer had binged on the blood left in the cooler in an effort to speed along his healing and then managed—with a little help from her boss's phone call—to avoid her just long enough for the bleeding to stop and his head to begin to heal. Unfortunately, that binge had used up the last of the blood.

Mortimer might have been all right and lasted until their return to Magnetawan the next day had he not then burned his hand while trying to light the barbecue. He'd managed to hide that from her as well, and it was nearly completely healed now where he rested it against his leg, but he was in desperate need of blood again.

"I—Yes, I guess I should go to bed," Sam said finally. She paused then, her gaze flickering to him and away.

Mortimer knew she was hoping that he'd give her an excuse to stay up, but he remained silent. Waiting.

"Well." She stood and moved slowly away from the love seat, her tone brisk. "This was fun. Thank you. And thank you for cooking too. I guess I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night," Mortimer murmured as she headed up the hall toward the room she was using. He watched her silently until she disappeared into her room and closed the door behind her, only then allowing himself to breathe out a sigh of mingled relief and regret.

Mortimer hadn't missed the disappointment in her eyes. She was definitely getting mixed signals from him and probably hadn't a clue what to make of his behavior. Last night he'd been an eager, demanding lover, only stopped in his attempt to bed her—or boulder her—by the incident with the leeches. And then tonight… nothing. Not even a kiss good night. But Mortimer didn't dare let himself get that close to her. His hunger could too easily overpower his desire and he might bite her.

Mortimer was sure Sam wasn't ready to hear what he had to tell her. He'd rather wait a couple more days and give her the chance to start thinking of them as a couple. To that end, he was attempting to woo her as she deserved, but wasn't even able to do that properly at the moment.

Grimacing, Mortimer turned and began to pace the kitchen, counting off the passing minutes. He'd wait half an hour to give her a chance to fall asleep, and then he had to go out in search of blood. He was back to feeding "off the hoof."

Sam lay in bed a long time, staring into the darkness with bewilderment as she listened to Mortimer pacing the kitchen. She had no idea what to make of the man. He was driving her crazy with the way he blew hot and cold. The first night he was all over her, and then today she'd received a morning kiss, but then nothing. He hadn't even tried for a good-night kiss, let alone take advantage of the love seat for some serious action. All that just convinced her that she'd been right and that the night before had been an anomaly, something unlikely to be repeated.

She was sighing miserably at the realization when the sound of the cottage door opening and closing reached her. Sam stiffened and sat up. Her first thought was that he might be going for a swim, but then she heard the SUV start up and the crunch of gravel as it drove away.

Sam slowly lay back down, sure Mortimer was going to find the nightlife that he and the others had kept asking about the first night after they'd met. The idea wasn't a pleasant one, but was followed by even more unpleasant ones. She found herself lying there, imagining him walking into some poky little local bar, and dancing with shapely locals and cottagers, then stumbling back to his SUV with his arm around one of them and doing all those lovely things he'd done with her… before she'd been attacked by leeches and made to look like a diseased hooker.

Groaning, Sam turned on her side and punched her pillow, then closed her eyes and tried to will herself to sleep. However, with thoughts like that plaguing her, she was still wide awake when the crunch of tires on gravel announced the SUV's return and Mortimer slipped quietly back inside. She listened to him move around until the cottage fell silent, and then she listened to that silence for a while before finally drifting off.

Sam had no idea what time it was when she finally fell asleep, but she was awake by nine a.m. Even so, Mortimer was already up and around. She heard him moving about as she collected clean clothes and her sandals. When she then slipped out of her room, it was to find the air redolent with the scent of coffee and cooking bacon.

Inhaling the lovely scents, Sam snuck up the hall in her nightie, her clothes held before her like a shield. At the end of the hall, she peeked around the corner to see him frying up potato wedges at the stove with his back to her, and quickly ducked into the bathroom to take a shower.

Ten minutes later, she presented herself in the kitchen, dressed, damp hair brushed back off her face, and completely makeup-free. Mortimer did not run screaming from the cottage.

"Good morning," he greeted, smiling at her widely.

"Morning," Sam mumbled, and started to move past him, only to gasp in surprise when he caught her arm and pulled her close for a quick, but very hard and thorough kiss. When he released her and turned back to his cooking, Sam was left panting and at a complete loss as to what to make of that.

Honestly, she had no idea what the man was about. One minute he was hot and passionate, the next just friendly and treating her like a buddy or kid sister. Then he landed a good-morning kiss on her that was definitely not what one gave to either a buddy or a kid sister. He had her thoroughly confused now.

Sam stood there fretting about that until he announced that breakfast was ready and she should grab a plate. Shaking her head, she grabbed them both a plate and moved to his side so he could serve up the food. Once he was finished, she carried them to the table. Sam sat down before she really glanced at her breakfast. The bacon was burned to a cinder, the eggs not quite cooked, and the potatoes were blackened… and she knew it would still be quite the most delicious breakfast she'd ever been treated to just because he'd gone to the trouble to make it.

Smiling wryly at herself, Sam picked up her fork and dug in. They ate in silence at first, and then Mortimer began to chatter cheerfully away about things they should do that day. He carried the conversation alone at first and didn't seem to mind. It wasn't until she joined in with suggestions of her own and noticed the way he relaxed that she realized her silence had bothered him. They chatted easily after that, sticking to topics like the weather, foreign politics, the sorts of books they each liked to read, what types of movies and music they enjoyed, and so on.

Once the meal was finished, they did the dishes together, she washing and he drying until her cell phone rang. Mortimer continued on as she stepped outside to take the call, finishing the dishes and then washing down the counters and stove too while he waited. He had it all done by the time she snapped her phone closed and stepped back inside.

"The Latimers are supposed to land at four-thirty this afternoon," she announced, passing on the information Clarence Babcock had given her. "Mr. Babcock's son is picking them up from the airport and the three of them are driving straight up here."

"That gives us the day to play, then," Mortimer said lightly as he turned back to set the washcloth on the sink. He then leaned against the counter, incredibly sexy in his jeans and black T-shirt, looking good enough to eat.

Flushing as that thought crossed her mind, Sam turned away. "I'd better call Belmont and see what he's doing about finding Cathy so I can report to her parents when they arrive."

"Good idea," Mortimer murmured. "I'm just going to take a quick shower while you do."

Sam watched him walk up the hall and disappear into his room, a small sigh slipping from her lips, but then forced herself to turn her attention back to her phone. She punched in the number and leaned against the counter as she pressed it to her ear, her eyes shifting to Mortimer as he stepped out of the room. Her eyes widened to drink him in as he came back up the hall. He'd stripped off the T-shirt he'd been wearing and was now bare-chested and barefoot in jeans, fresh clothes held in his hand.

Sam stared, automatically responding to his smile as she watched him duck into the bathroom and close the door. The phone continued to ring in her ear, but she hardly noticed. The walls in the cottage were incredibly thin. Sam could actually hear the ratcheting sound of Mortimer's zipper going down and then the rustle of cloth from behind the door as he stripped. Her mouth went dry as her mind produced a picture of what was happening, and then the hiss of the shower sounded and she imagined him stepping naked under the warm spray.

Suddenly hot, Sam began to fan herself, but then realized it was her phone she was fanning herself with and that it was speaking to her. She quickly shifted it back to her ear. She had a job to do and shouldn't allow herself to be distracted. Not a work-type job, per se, but she'd promised to ride herd on the police until her boss got there, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

Mortimer took one look at Sam's furious face when he stepped out of the bathroom and knew the call hadn't gone well. After a pause, he moved to snatch up his sandals and carried them to one of the chairs at the small kitchen table. He sat down and began to pull them on as he asked, "What did Belmont have to say?"

"Oh," Sam said with obvious exasperation. "He avoided my call again. He's supposedly out 'investigating another incident.' I'm sure he's there though and avoiding me."

Mortimer raised his eyebrows. "Who did you speak to then?"