Sorsha
drives a horse and carriage in St. Augustine. One night, a man
stumbles into her carriage and passes out. Not able to shift him, and
unsure what to do with him, she drives back to her home, leaving him
in the carriage. Later that night, she hears a noise....
A
tall man sat on her couch, holding his head. Dark, silvered hair was
cropped close to his scalp. He was broad of shoulder, narrow hipped,
well muscled, but lean. Over six feet, he made her feel small in
comparison. She might be smaller, but she wasn't entirely helpless.
Squaring her shoulders boldly, she walked around where she could face
him. Back to the big screen TV, facing her kitchen, and the man, she
held up the can and waited. Slowly, he raised his head, his startling
azure eyes widening slightly in alarm. He waved large, long fingered
hands slowly.
"You've
nothing to fear from me," he promised quietly. "But perhaps
you could tell me where I am and how I got here? I woke to the smell
of horse."
Sorsha
perched on the arm of a chair across from him. The pepper spray was
lowered, but still clutched in her hand. "You fell in my
carriage. I couldn't budge you, so I left you downstairs."
"You
didn't call 9-1-1?"
"Perhaps
I should have, but I don't know a thing about you and, to be honest,
I didn't want to get stuck with a bill. You weren't bleeding and you
were still breathing...."
He
chuckled, nodding. His eyes registered pain and he winced. "Lord
have mercy, what did they slip me?"
"Someone
drugged you?"
"Aye.
Wish I knew who."
"Where
were you?"
"The
Pub."
She
nodded, easing onto the chair rather than staying on the arm. The
pepper spray went on the TV stand behind her. "Do you think
someone there drugged you?"
"It's
the only place I've been. You mean—one of the staff?" He
considered that a moment. "Doubtful. I know them all. It's
unlikely."
"The
man I was living with stole everything I owned. Even if you know
someone, doesn't mean they won't screw you over."
"Good
point. Could I get a coffee? Then I'll be out of your hair."
"And
go where? Someone drugged you. They either intended to kidnap or kill
you. You can't go back anywhere you're known."
The
blinked slowly. She could almost hear his mind working as he puzzled
over that.
"Good
point. Though I'll have to go out tomorrow morning. I've a package to
deliver and it's locked up." He clamped his lips shut, realizing
he was about to say too much.
"Let's
get that coffee." She led him to the kitchen where she set up
her French press pot. She set out mugs while the water boiled in an
electric pot. "Start with something simple. I'm Sorsha."
"James."
"From
California."
His
blue eyes widened in surprise.
"I
looked at your license. Thought I could take you home."
He
nodded. "Sometimes."
Her
eyes held a question.
"From
California."
"Northwest
Florida." She pointed at herself. "Horse country."
The
coffee was ready. She pushed the plunger down and poured them each a
steaming cup. James added sugar. Sorsha added cream and sugar to the
nearly black brew.
"Now,
the question vibrating in the air between us—why would someone drug
you? An angry ex? A cuckolded husband?"
James
chuckled, shaking his head. "Nothing like that. Haven't had a
woman in weeks." Blushing slightly, he found the contents of his
cup very interesting. "Been working. Needed to be clear headed."
"Professional
athlete?" Head tilted, she raised an eyebrow.
Topaz
eyes riveted him to his seat.
He
laughed loudly. "No. Truth?"
"Always."
"I'm
a thief. A very good thief."
"And
what do you steal? The hearts of women?"
"Jewels,
mostly. The odd piece of art. I take others when someone has a job of
particular discretion."
"Oh,
my God! You aren't kidding!" She backed away. "You wouldn't
have told me if you intended to let me live." She clutched the
top of her robe and edged toward the TV stand.
James
watched her, amusement in his brilliant blue eyes. "If I
intended to kill you, Sorsha, you'd be dead and none the wiser. If
I'd wanted to run out without saying thank you, I'd have left as soon
as I woke up. You saved me when I needed your help and I wanted to
extend my appreciation. And use your restroom, if you wouldn't mind.
I had a few ciders and they've gone right through me. Then I'll be
out of your hair."
"You
can't leave. What if they followed you? I can't be here alone!"
He
hadn't thought of that, she could see it in his face.
"And
you shouldn't be out on the street if they're looking for you. This
place is surrounded by an eight foot, wrought iron fence with a top
of the line alarm system. It's not fool proof, but it's better than
being out on your own." She pointed to his left. "Bathroom."
"Thanks."
He
shut the door behind him, resisting the urge to lock himself inside.
He'd been a thief almost thirty years. He'd dodged police in a dozen
countries, outsmarted Interpol on more than one occasion, but the
idea that there was some unknown person on his trail, terrified him.
©
2019 Dellani Oakes
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