Wyeth dragged his arm across his forehead, wiping the sweat from his skin. He had not slept much the night before, or the night before that, with the storm battering the house. It seemed the wind and the rain tried to knock down the very stones that held up the manor. Listening to the maelstrom for the past two nights had kept him up, but his dreams had been filled with great beasts that flew the skies. All he could dream of were dragons, but that was impossible. Maybe some bad takeout had resulted in the nightmare that had plagued him.
Wyeth decided to get to work early again, tearing through the house and throwing away some of the stuff that had deteriorated from rodents nesting in it. A lot more furniture and other things had to be thrown out before he could start renovations. His guys were due to come in tomorrow to start looking at what would need replacing. He might have been able to lift a sledgehammer, demolish a few walls, build some steps, or frame wall, but he needed the structural engineer, the plumber, the electrician, and a few others to tell him about the state of the house.
He grabbed a bottle of water and went out on the balcony. The world appeared different than it had with the storm darkening it. Now it was bright and new. The lighthouse was weatherworn in the light. Birds nestled on the cliffs of the other islands. Wyeth sipped the water and enjoyed the breeze caressing his face and the perfume of the sea. To his left he could see the tourists strolling along the ocean walk that hugged the coast for a couple of miles. His property was just beyond the end of the trail. The rest of the path meandered next to a large resort hotel by the wharf in town. The other mansions had been built back when the sea captains grew rich off their catches and decided to settle on the island. Most of the manors remained in the same families and had not been turned into bed and breakfasts. Tourist season was almost over, and the town would return to its quiet atmosphere. Then Wyeth could focus on his regular clients.
When he looked toward the cliffs, two people were traversing over the rocks. It appeared they walked across the water and were getting closer. Wyeth sipped on the water and realized they came from the lighthouse. He had never known there was a footpath from the lighthouse to the cliffs. The man assisted the woman. They got to the rock face and climbed upward.
Wyeth peered over the balcony and saw them. The man had his head down. He was wearing a light, black coat and worn jeans. The woman seemed shaky. Her hair glinted red in the sunlight, mixed with streaks of gold and brown. It reminded him of an autumn sunset. She wore a red blouse and a black skirt that billowed in the wind. The man had his hand wrapped around her waist as she lolled back and forth.
“Hey,” Wyeth called down.
The man stopped and glanced around, but continued a few more steps with the woman leaning on him. Wyeth wasn’t sure they heard him.
“Hello, do you need any help?” He studied the wrought iron staircase that somehow bolted into the rock. It had appeared and clung to the rock like magic, the same with the walkway, because it wasn’t there the night before when he had been out in the storm.
This time the man met his gaze. His green eyes were so bright that Wyeth nearly lost himself in them. Something stirred in him that he wasn’t used to feeling. He broke from his stare, and it dawned on him that Wyeth had seen this man before. He had been at his father’s funeral. Before he could say anything, the woman met his eyes. Her eyes were deep brown, like melted chocolate, and stirred something else within Wyeth. An air of mystery surrounded her.
“Blackmore,” the man barked.
“Yes. That’s me. Who are you?” Wyeth wondered why this man was assisting this woman and why he had been at the cemetery.
“Drake. We need to use your phone and call for help for this woman. She suffered a horrible concussion.”
“I’m fine,” the woman muttered.
Drake. His brows lifted when he heard the gruff voice. Now he realized why he had seen the other man at his father’s funeral. This was one of the family who had been a thorn in the side of the Blackmore line. Whenever an event in his family occurred, a Drake knew it whether it was a birth, a death, or even a marriage. Maybe he’s here because he knows I’m redoing the house, and he wants to have a say in it. What will it take for our families to separate? How did Drake know about the stairs and the walkway?
“Are you going to let us in so we can call for help for her instead of staring over the railing like a dullard,” Drake growled.
Wyeth gritted his teeth and muttered under his breath. He raced from the balcony to open the front door. Drake met him and had his arm supporting the woman. Wyeth took them over to the nearest chair, and the woman collapsed into it. She leaned back and closed her eyes. He studied her for a minute. Even though she was not his type, an aura about her drew his gaze back to her. Her hair fell in waves over her shoulders to her waist. She had average sized breasts, enough for a handful, but not too much. The top two buttons were open on her shirt so he could see her red satin bra.
“Do you have a phone, or are you going to ogle her?”
“Sorry,” he murmured. His cheeks burned from being caught. He dug into his back pocket and pulled out his cell. He wiped the screen on his jeans and handed it over to Drake. “Here. Satisfied?”
The woman placed a hand on his arm. Her nails were short and bitten. Various gemstone rings adorned her fingers. Underneath the sleeve on her right arm he spied some sort of tattoo on her wrist. He glanced at her and saw the exasperation in her gaze.
“I don’t need to go to the doctor. I’m fine. My head hurts, but I don’t need you to call 911 as Drake keeps insisting.”
Drake grabbed for the phone, but Wyeth pulled it back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“She needs to go to the doctor.” Drake crossed his arms over his chest.
“No. I don’t. The only reason I needed your help was because I was a little dizzy, and you said the walkway was slippery. I still can’t believe it was there. I’ve never seen it before, and I’ve looked at the lighthouse all my life. The same with those steps.”
“They’ve always been there.” Drake snatched for the phone, but Wyeth kept it from him.
No matter how much the man protested, Wyeth knew that the walkway and stairs weren’t there before. “No, they haven’t been, Drake. So cut the shit.”
The other man stepped closer and gnashed his teeth at him like an angry dog and growled. “I said they’ve always been there. Why don’t you just accept that?”
His fury nearly got the better of him. The woman placed a hand on his arm and his rage drained away.
“Guys, it doesn’t matter. Really. Mr. Blackmore, thanks for letting us in to use your phone. I’ve been a burden to Drake enough. If you could just give me a ride home, I’ll be fine.”
“You need medical atten—”
Savanna put her hand up. “Enough. You’ve warned me enough. I’m not going to sue you for being a Good Samaritan, Drake. Please, can’t you just take me back home? I want to sleep in my own bed. I’ll have someone come over and watch me for another night. Happy?” she said to Drake.
Wyeth tried to swallow his laughter at seeing Drake handled by the woman. It was obvious he was used to getting his own way and not having people question him. “I can give you a ride home, ahh... sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier.”
She glanced at him. “Savanna.”
“Right. Savanna, I can give you a ride back to your place. Does that satisfy you, Drake?” Wyeth asked. His name sat heavy on Wyeth’s tongue. Questions bombarded his mind as to what the man was doing at his father’s funeral. If there was something to talk about, then why hadn’t he come sooner? As much as it left a bad taste in his mouth, maybe there was a chance they could start unwinding their history.
The other man gripped the back of the chair until the wood protested under the force of his hold. His mouth was set in a tight line. “Fine.”
Savanna touched Drake’s arm. He jumped, but her touch seemed to calm him. Wyeth wondered if the woman, or Drake, realized it. “Thank you for saving my life. I don’t know how to repay you.”
“No thanks needed. Don’t worry about it. Blackmore, I’ll be back. We have to discuss some things now that your father has passed on.”
“Sounds wonderful. I’ll be seeing you then.” He raised his hand in farewell and watched the other man walk out of the house, but not before Drake glanced at Savanna once more. At least he could get one thing out of the way and didn’t have to track Drake down again. An awkward silence grew between them. He flashed her a smile that she returned. Wyeth flipped his phone over and over again in his hand trying to think of something to say. “So, I guess I should take you home.”
“That would be great. Drake said the nearest phone was here because he didn’t have one in the lighthouse.”
“He’s right. Do you know how long he’s going to be at the lighthouse?” Wyeth wanted to know why the man was at the lighthouse in the first place. From what he understood, a few keepers relieved one another, and they were paid out of a fund supplied by his family and the Drakes, but maybe he was wrong.
“Sorry, I woke up there after being tossed overboard from the ship I was doing readings on.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a psychic. I was hired to do a bridal shower, but they were more interested in the stripper.”
Psychic. Great. She’s a fruit loop, and now I’m stuck with her. He forced a smile and raked his fingers through his hair. “So, I guess we should go.”
* * * *
Savanna sat in the seat across from the second hottest guy she had met since she had been rescued. She knew the uncomfortable silence between them was brought on by the circumstances of their meeting and her confessing what her profession was. It had happened to her more times than she could actually count. Once people learned she was a psychic, she immediately fell into the batty category. The first question out of people’s mouths was that she must peer into a large crystal ball. Of course that was the first stereotype. The next was that she, besides being a crackpot, was a fraud and swindled people out of money. No matter how much Savanna protested against that, people never accepted she wasn’t duping her clients. Which typecast is going through his head? It was tough to tell the way he kept looking straight at the road and not at her. He had completely shut down. At least Drake hadn’t tuned her out when she told him what she did for a living.
Drake was indifferent to her occupation. Actually, it was one of the stranger reactions she had gotten. He had been nice to talk with, and it seemed he generally cared about her wellbeing. Blackmore seemed to care for her well-being only as a human and had no vested interest in her personally. Which was fine. She could tell he was antsy about getting her out of his car. She wanted to collapse in her own bed. Please, don’t let Chastity be home. I can’t deal with her prattling on. Savanna’s head still hurt. Her memory was a blur about how she got off the boat. Her body ached like she’d been hit by a cement truck and then had a pallet of cinder blocks dropped on her.
At least it hadn’t been a house.
“So... Mr. Blackmore, I appreciate you giving me a ride.”
He glanced at her quickly and focused back on the road. Blackmore shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat. “You’re welcome. It’s not really a big deal. I needed to get some more supplies for the house.”
“Were you renovating? I saw all the sheets and the lights.”
“Mmmhhmm...yes. I decided to move back in since no one has lived there for almost fifty years. My grandfather was the last person to occupy it. We’ve lived in the guesthouse since I was born.”
“I’ve heard rumors the house is haunted.” Savanna glanced from the window to him, trying to engage him in conversation to pass the time.
He flashed her a crooked but serious smile. “Not haunted, or weren’t you able to pick up anything while you were in the house?”
She gritted her teeth. “Hello, head injury over here, so I wasn’t quite paying attention to the cosmic winds. And for your information, I’m not that kind of psychic. I’ve never professed to be a medium. Actually, I do my best to avoid spirits unless they’re my spirit guides. Getting involved with ghosts can mess a person up. They can be very dangerous.”
“I’ll have to remember that the next time I hear one say boo in the house or the bed levitates.”
She pressed her nails into her palm. “Please stop the car,” she demanded.
“But you haven’t told me exactly where you live and you—”
“I’m quite capable, thank you very much.” He looked like he wanted to protest, but instead he slowed the car to a stop. Savanna drew in a breath and got out of the vehicle. Her temper flared as she slammed the door and stomped off toward the direction of her apartment. Thankfully, it was a couple of blocks and she could make it. Savanna raised her head, squared her shoulders, and walked away from her ride. She made it a hundred feet or so when she realized that Blackmore was driving slowly beside her. She glanced over at him and the car window rolled down.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Will you get in so I can at least get you home?”
She sighed and heard the sincerity in his tone. Savanna wanted to keep on walking and not give in to the prickles on the back of her hand, the indicator that her instincts were telling her to listen and not be pigheaded. Her head did hurt, and her boots were not made to walk long distances. The tingle traveled more along her hand. Her guides made it clear she should enter the vehicle. She sighed and climbed back in. Savanna slumped into the seat.
“I don’t appreciate you mocking me. You don’t know me, so keep your snarky comments to yourself. I don’t care if you’re from the richest family in this town. Just because I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth like you, doesn’t mean you can be an ass to me.”
“I’m not—”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t want to hear it. I’ve heard it all my life about either my weight or my abilities. Just take me home. Go two blocks, take a right, and then the first left into the apartment complex. I’ll be fine from there.” She stared ahead of her until they came to a stop.
He shut the auto off and rested his hands on the steering wheel, rubbing them across the leather cover as his knuckles whitened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I hope you feel better.”
“Thank you. Good luck with your house.” Savanna opened the door to get out, when Blackmore grabbed her hand. A jolt went through her as their skin connected. She tried to brush it off, but instead an image of him hanging onto something filled her mind. He was helpless and ready to fall when someone was reaching for him, or maybe trying to push him further over the edge. It was difficult to make out who it was, but it could have been Drake.
“Hey, are you sure you don’t need a doctor?”
Savanna looked at him and yanked her hand away from him. “Y-yes. I’m fine. Sorry. Look, I know this is coming out of left field, but be careful around Drake. Don’t be alone with him in your house.”
He chuckled. “Is that some kind of portent that I need to heed?”
“Believe me or not, but watch yourself.”
She got out of the car this time and went up to her apartment. Savanna didn’t have to look back to know he was still watching her. She made it to the second floor and took a quick glance at the parking lot to confirm her suspicions that he was just leaving.
“Sav.”
Cringing from the nickname her roommate gave her, she turned around to deal with Chastity. Her golden ringlets bounced as she walked. The other woman was all smiles and light, a walking porcelain doll, but not as pure as her name. Savanna had lost count as to how many men had paraded through the apartment in the ten months she had lived there. Chastity was the only answer to her affording her apartment because business had been slow. The other woman helped pay the rent, but that didn’t mean she liked sharing her space with anyone, especially someone as bubbly as the woman before her.
“Yes,” she responded, exhaustion washing over her. All she wanted was a decent bath and her bed.
“Where have you been? The police came by yesterday saying you had fallen off a boat or something. They thought you had gotten washed away. This detective left a card.”
Savanna took the business card, adding it to the list of things she had to do. “I’ll call him later. Anything else?”
“Weren’t you wearing that the other day when you were going to do your little party thingy?”
“Yes.”
A large smile sliced her porcelain pale features. “Well, girl. You didn’t fall off a boat. You got lucky. You go, girlfriend.”
“Actually, I did get lucky. A wave swept me overboard. I hit my head and washed up near the lighthouse. The keeper found me and brought me into his house while I was unconscious and cared for me.”
Her smile fell. “He...ahh...didn’t rape you, did he?”
Savanna rolled my eyes. “No. He didn’t rape me. He was very nice and made sure I didn’t drown or die of hypothermia.”
“How do you know if he didn’t rape you if you were unconscious? How did you get home? You didn’t walk?”
“Does it matter? I was driven on a chariot of griffons led by the great god Apollo.”
“You don’t have to be a bitch about it.” Chastity stormed past her.
Savanna felt a little bit sorry for her attitude, but only a little. She was too tired to put up with her roommate’s antics. She went into her room and locked the door. This was her sanctuary. She stepped into the bathroom, stripped, and drew a bath. Savana looked at herself in the mirror, taking stock of all her bruises. Her entire back was a mishmash of purple and yellow splotches. Damn, I hit the water hard. I could have died. She sighed and had to figure some way to thank Drake for saving her life and caring for her. Baking a Bundt cake didn’t seem appropriate.