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Blake sat in front of the window in the coffee shop. He had one eye on the shop and one on his computer when he saw Lilly leaving the premises. She had her bag over her shoulder. Did that mean she was leaving for the day? Damn it to hell.
He packed up his laptop and threw money on the table before he rushed outside. His coffee and sandwich had just arrived, but it was more important now to make sure Lindsay was okay.
Checking up and down the street, he strode across to Lindsay’s shop. He could cheerily throttle her. Why the hell hadn’t she told him she’d be alone this afternoon?
The door was locked. He peered through the window. No movement inside. Where did she go? He’d checked the back, but it was possible someone had slipped around the other corner.
He was jogging around the building before he’d finished the thought. Cold fingers clutched around his throat. If anything happened to Lindsay...
As he came around the corner of the building, he saw her through the window of a smaller building attached to the shop in front. She had earphones on her ears and was swaying to a sound only she could hear. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes for a moment. The damn woman was going to give him a heart attack.
He knocked on the window, but she didn’t hear him. Hands on his hips, he stared at her. She was singing off key along with someone about “her crazy is beautiful to me.” Cursing, he inhaled some fresh air. His self-appointed job to protect Lindsay was sure as hell going to kill him pretty soon.
At that moment, she opened her eyes and saw him. And shrieked. Still yelling, she pulled the earphones from her ears.
Great. But a yelling, angry Lindsay he could handle. It was the singing, swaying, crazy, and beautiful one who could bring him to his knees.
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Lindsay opened the back door with unsteady fingers, her heart still pounding in her chest. She’d just had the fright of her life. The last person she’d expected to see through the window was Blake.
“You nearly gave me a heart attack,” she scolded as he brushed past her.
“Good. Then we’re even.”
“I don’t go sneaking around corners!”
“But you lied to me! Lilly has left.”
“I didn’t exactly lie. I said I won’t be alone, and I’m not. There are people on either side of me.”
“Oh, really?” He motioned with his hands. “The same people who’ve just come running because you’ve yelled?”
“I ...” Cross, she walked towards the counter where she was working. “I’m fine. Nobody else knows I’m here.”
“Everybody who has been watching this building will know you’re alone. Damn it, woman, do you have any idea how easy it would be for someone to get to you here if they wanted to? And that’s exactly what Mark Taylor is trying to do, or haven’t you noticed?”
Without any warning, the tears came out of nowhere. Sniffling, she turned her back on Blake. “Don’t you think I know that? But I’m trying to get on with my life in spite of it. I refuse to allow him to frighten me again.” In vain, she tried to mop up the tears, but it would seem she hadn’t cried enough last night.
“Lindsay...” Blake began, behind her, before he cussed under his breath. “Please don’t cry again.” And two big, warm hands tentatively touched her shoulders.
Her whole being was urging her to turn around and bury her face in Blake’s big, broad chest, but this was her mess and she was going to fix this.
Squaring her shoulders, she wiped her face. “I have to finish this. There isn’t time during the week. I’ll be fine.”
The hands withdrew from her shoulders. Behind her, she heard movement and turned around. Blake put his laptop on a small desk near the window and took out his phone. “Have you eaten?”
She shook her head without looking at him and reheated the shea butter and coconut oil. If Blake hadn’t disturbed her, she’d have been finished by now.
“What can I get you? I’m ordering from the coffee shop across the street.”
“I’ll go and fetch it...” she said.
“We either both go or I ask them to deliver it.”
Shrugging, she turned her back on him and continued mixing the butter and oils. She had to finish this batch, otherwise there wouldn’t be enough stock for the week.
“I’m ordering a coffee, and ham and cheese sandwich—what can I get you?”
“The same, thanks.”
“Don’t you prefer tea?”
She quickly glanced at him. “I do, but it doesn’t really matter...”
“Of course, it matters what you want.”
For a moment longer she stared at him, before she quickly turned back to what she was doing. Mark had never been in the least interested in what she’d preferred. He used to order for both of them without consulting her.
Minutes later, Blake had placed the order. “What can I do to help?” he asked.
Surprised, she looked at him. “It’s not necessary...”
“I know. But I’m staying anyway so you may as well use me.”
Use me. Her cheeks flamed and she leaned forward to hide them. The term had conjured up all sorts of playful ways in which she could “use” him. Times like these, she was indeed grateful thoughts couldn’t be read or heard.
“Uhm...okay. If you could seal those lids...” She pointed towards a batch she’d made earlier. “I can finish up here.”
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They were working in silence when his phone rang. Happy to do something to distract himself, Blake quickly answered his phone.
For the last few minutes, he’d been watching Lindsay and she was driving him insane. While concentrating, her tongue would flicker out and lick her lips before it disappeared again. At this point, his body was ready to explode.
It was the coffee shop across the street. They were short-staffed at the moment. Could he please pick up the lunch order?
Blake put his phone away. “Let’s lock up here and fetch lunch. The coffee shop doesn’t have anyone to deliver it at the moment,” he called out over the noise of the mixer Lindsay was using.
Not even looking up, she shook her head. “I can’t stop now. The shop is just across the street. It’ll only take a few minutes for you to fetch it. I’ll be fine.”
She continued mixing things even before she’d finished speaking.
Frowning, Blake stared at her back. He wasn’t going to get her out of here now, and they were both hungry. Damn it, he didn’t want to leave her. But she was right—he should be back within minutes.
“Lock behind me!” he called as he left.
As he crossed the street, an uneasiness settled in his gut, a telltale sign something was wrong. After scanning the street a few times, he finally walked into the shop.
The waiter behind the counter recognized him and lifted a package. “Here’s your lunch. Sorry about that.”
As Blake took out his wallet, he glanced out the window. Everything looked all right, but the little voice he usually relied on, telling him to hurry, was getting louder by the minute.
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Lindsay glanced at the door. She had to lock it, but she was so close to finishing mixing this batch of shea butter and oils. By this time she knew exactly what consistency she wanted and if she stopped the mixer too soon, the content wouldn’t have the lovely fluffy and smooth texture her creams were known for.
Minutes later, she smiled. Now this was more like it. She switched off the mixer and dipped a clean finger in to touch. As she rubbed it into her hands, she caught a movement from the corner of her eye and quickly looked up. Frowning, she walked over to the window.
Nothing strange. She was so sure she’d seen something.
Rubbing her arms, she walked back to the counter where she’d been working. She was becoming paranoid.
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Blake glanced up and down the street before he began to cross it. As he looked up, a car pulled quickly out of a parking space just a few meters from Lindsay’s shop and sped down the street—much too fast. His heart stopped before it nearly jumped out of his throat.
Repeating the plate number over and over, he clutched the bag and sped across the street. Lindsay. If something had happened to her during the time he’d been away...
As he rounded the corner of the building, he began shouting her name. “Lindsay! Lindsay!” He pushed at the door and it swung open.
She turned around, her eyes wide with trepidation.
“Why the hell didn’t you lock the door?” he bellowed as he marched towards her.
“Don’t yell at me!” she cried out, rubbing her arms. Lifting her chin, she picked up one of the many glass jars she used for the creams. “I wanted to finish the batch I was working on.” But her voice wobbled slightly and her hands weren’t quite steady.
Inhaling deeply, he tried to calm the thunderous beating of his heart. “Did you see something outside?” he asked, in a much gentler tone.
She opened and closed her mouth. “I was just being paranoid, I think,” she finally said.
An imaginary yet icy hand closed around his trachea. “Damn it to hell, Lindsay...” he growled, exasperated, and rubbed his face.
“Have you brought lunch?” she asked as she continued to spoon heaps of cream into jars. “I’m hungry.”
“What did you see, or think you saw?”
She motioned towards the one window. “Seriously, Blake, it was probably only my imagination.”
“Lindsay...”
“Okay, I thought I saw a movement outside”—she motioned with her hand—“but as I’ve said...”
Before she’d finished speaking, he’d put the bag with lunch down and headed outside. Crouching down close to the window she’d pointed to, he inspected the area outside.
And there it was—the evidence they’d been looking for. Below the window, in the flower bed, were the indentations of fresh shoe prints. There weren’t any other prints around. Someone had stood right here, watching Lindsay. Cold fury leaped up, but he pushed it down, and straightening, he took out his phone and dialed Jason’s number.
“Did you find anything?” Lindsay spoke while he was waiting for Jason to answer. She was standing in the door, chewing her lip, looking heartbreakingly beautiful.
He shook his head, not even sure what she’d asked. As she headed back into the shop, Jason finally answered his call. Focus on the task at hand. And the task at hand was protecting Lindsay. Not lusting after her.
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By the time they arrived back home, Lindsay looked pale. She kept rubbing her temple; she was probably experiencing the beginnings of a headache.
Jason had agreed to find out to whom the number plates were registered, so at least now Blake could concentrate on keeping Lindsay safe. Not that she was making it easy.
He’d wanted to get her back to her house, but she’d insisted on finishing filling the jars with the last batch of creams she’d made, and they’d worked in silence until she was happy. Why the hell it couldn’t be done later, he had no idea, but he’d given up long ago trying to understand the workings of the female mind.
He for one was glad they’d left the small, intimate studio. Working so close to her, surrounded by the flowery scent that always seemed to accompany her, made it extremely difficult to concentrate on anything else.
This time, he was quick enough to open the car door for her.
“Do you want to go out tonight?” he asked when they reached the front door.
She shook her head while unlocking the door.
“I bought steaks earlier and can do those over the grill if you like?” he asked when they’d entered the house.
She nodded. “Okay. Please let me pay half?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. What would you like with it?”
“I’ll do something with potatoes. I just want to have a shower...”
The groan slipped out before he could stop it. Startled blue eyes looked up at him before she turned around and jogged up the stairs.
Damn. Exhaling slowly, he opened the front door again and walked around the house. Picturing a naked Lindsay in the shower came way too easily to mind.
It was already dark. For a few minutes, he stood at the back of the house, focusing on his breathing, hoping to get the rhythm of his heart back to normal.
He bent down and checked the pane of the window he’d replaced earlier that day. The light at the back of the house was bright enough. At the time, he’d also looked around on the ground outside the window but he hadn’t found anything out of the ordinary. There were no footprints, no indication anyone had stood there before the stone had been thrown through the window.
He wanted to do something—break, kick, hit. That was what he was good at. Waiting, playing cat and mouse, was part of the job, something he’d had to get used to, but he hated the frustration. Especially now, because Lindsay was involved.
It was fast becoming clear to him Taylor was a shrewd and probably unhinged adversary. And as he knew from experience, those were the deadliest.
Taylor seemed to disappear into thin air after every incident. They’d caught the guy who’d hit Charlie months earlier and he was awaiting trial, but not talking, so there was nothing the police could find to link the man to Mark Taylor, and as far as he knew, the police had dropped the matter.
But Blake had asked his informant to keep checking flights from South Africa. And when he’d received the message Taylor had boarded a plane heading first to Houston, then to Seattle, he knew his gut feeling had been right.
But the man seemed to be two steps ahead of them all the time. The police couldn’t find the green car he’d seen yesterday, but today a faded blue one had been parked in front of Lindsay’s shop. Although he hadn’t seen Taylor, he just knew he was the one who’d been trying to get to Lindsay. And by tomorrow he’d probably have a different car again.
So far nobody had been able to get a trace of him. The shoe marks he’d found at the back of Lindsay’s shop had been the first real, tangible evidence. Since yesterday, the police had scoured the town and the neighboring areas, but they hadn’t found the green car or the man yet.
Hopefully now that Jason had agreed to help him, they could get this guy. That was what his phone call earlier to Jason had been about. His friend had promised to get forensics to analyze the footprints, as well.
Taylor’s plan to scare and keep Lindsay on edge was working, and he hated that.
He turned his head and listened. Evenings in Alisson were quiet, he’d discovered in the short time he’d spent here previously. He could hear the odd vehicle now and then. Behind the curtains of the houses on either side of this one, there was movement, but otherwise it was quiet.
He stared up at the sky. In another world, another life, maybe he and Lindsay could’ve... Thinking like that was pointless, as he very well knew. Cursing, he walked back into the house.