The Unquiet - J. D. Robb [120]
“Did you find it?”
He shook his head. “Peace eludes me. There’s something . . . something just out of reach that I can’t seem to grasp. I’ve begun to sense that it’s something I need to do, or something I need to know. Whatever it is, there is some impossible task that binds me to this place. When I discover it, I’ll have the key to leaving this earth forever.”
“Maybe it has something to do with how you died.” She hesitated, wondering if she were overstepping her bounds. “Is that a subject you’re willing to talk about?”
He waved a hand. “Ah, but you see, I haven’t died. Not completely. But to put your mind at ease, I died by the sword. For a Highland warrior, ’tis the only honorable way to go.”
“You were in a battle?”
“Of sorts. Our history is rife with them. Barbarians determined to take what we have.” His brows drew together in a fierce frown, and she could see that he’d gone somewhere in his mind. Somewhere she couldn’t follow.
He turned to peer into the flames of the fire. In profile, Bree thought he could have been chiseled from stone. The proud, high brow. The strong jaw. The shock of dark hair falling rakishly over his forehead. He was a handsome devil. The thought caused her to shiver as she was reminded again about her sudden, stunning arousal while in that dreamlike state.
“I should”—she got to her feet—“get some sleep.”
He turned toward her and arched a brow. His smile was quick and disarming. “Aye. I’ve a mind to do the same.”
She hesitated, alert to the teasing tone of his voice. “If you’d like the bed, I’ll sleep here in the chair.”
He got to his feet and faced her. “I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your comfort.”
“Look.” She sighed, weary of his badgering. “Only one of us can sleep in there.” She nodded toward the bedroom. “Since you were here first, I’m willing to concede it to you.”
“Not at all.” He swept a hand in a courtly gesture. “I’ll not be outdone in generosity. The bed is yours.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “You’re sure?”
“I am.”
“All right. If you insist.”
“I do.”
“You promise you won’t sneak in there after I’m asleep?”
“I make you no promises.” He paused dramatically. “But so long as you wish it, I’ll not intrude. If, however, you have need of me, I’ll be more than happy to comply.”
She studied his face, but could see no trace of his usual sly humor.
“Thank you. Good night then, Jamie.”
“Good night.” He shimmered and began to fade before disappearing completely.
Alone, she made her way to the bedroom. A short time later she fell thankfully into bed and was asleep almost at once.
Bree heard the ringing of a phone and felt a sudden sense of dread that had all her muscles clenching. Phone calls in the night were never a good thing. She picked up the receiver and listened to the voice at the other end.
“No!” She wanted to silence the words but they continued on, recounting something so hurtful, she couldn’t bear to listen. “No. Please. Stop.”
She tossed aside the covers and leaped to her feet as she began to shake, then to weep. Great wrenching sobs that were torn from her heart, wracking her