Free The Witch's Stone by Dawn Brown Page B

should call Bristol."
    Caid shook his head. "Bristol's hands are full tonight. There's been a car accident." With a dishtowel, Caid wrapped the handle before picking the poker up. "We'll ring him in the morning, but for now, we'll find somewhere else for this."
    She followed behind him as they retraced their steps, searching for a place to store the poker. At last, Caid decided on a badly scratched credenza in the study. He laid the poker down inside the empty storage space.
    “I dinnae think we need to worry about the intruder still being in the house.” Caid slid the cabinet door closed. “The footprints didnae leave the kitchen. Whoever it was, it looks as though they went out through the back door.”
    Hillary nodded. “You should probably get changed. You’re soaked through.”
    “Aye,” he agreed. “I dinnae suppose in yer search you found a reasonably tidy bathroom.”
    She nodded. “I did. Your parents or Alex must have cleaned it because I don’t think Agnes had cleaned anything in years.”
    Caid snorted. “My parents didnae lift a finger, I can promise you that. More likely, some poor sod from the village did the work before they ever arrived. As for Agnes, well, she was old and didnae have much money. Likely, she couldnae keep the place up on her own. Alex told me she paid a local lad to help keep the grounds from becoming too overgrown, but really couldnae afford to have him come out more than a few times a month.”
    “In that case, I’m surprised the place isn’t worse.”
    “My father sometimes paid for work to be done. I imagine he considered it an investment into what would one day be his. After he tried to have Agie committed, though, she wouldnae let him anywhere near the house.”
    A hint of a smile curved his lips, his eyes the color of the sky at twilight. A tiny shiver raced up her back.
    “Why did you--” She cleared her throat, her mouth inexplicably dry, and tried again. “Why did you tell me that in front of him at the cemetery?”
    “He’s a bully and a hypocrite, and he had the unfair advantage since you didnae know either of those things.”
    Caid’s voice had turned quiet, and his head bent toward her. That weird fluttering returned low in her belly. Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to? Yes, she realized, she did. But she took a step back, putting distance between them.
    “You really should shower and change, before you catch a cold.” If he had planned on kissing her, she needn’t worry now. Nothing killed the mood more than sounding like someone’s mother.
    He nodded, frowning. “Ye’re probably right.”
    Once he was gone, she flopped onto the faded settee. A cloud of dust billowed out from under her. She coughed and waved it away.
    What was it that made her insides shiver like that? If she didn’t know better, she’d swear it was lust. But that couldn’t be, and certainly not for him.
    She hadn’t wanted a man’s attention in more than a year. Still, had she expected to remain celibate for the rest of her life? She stood and started to pace. Maybe. She’d never really thought about it. After Randall, her interest in sex had evaporated along with her interest in men.
    Why would it return for rude and moody Caid? Granted, he was attractive and he did have that accent. She’d always been a sucker for an accent.
    So what? He still wasn’t her type. Obnoxious with a questionable past. No, she preferred quiet men, thoughtful, professional.
    It was geography, nothing more.
    Being here, in another country, had given her some space from the events of the past two years. Now things like desire were returning. Her interest in Caid was based on proximity. He was the only man around. If she were surrounded by attractive men, no doubt he would be the last man she’d choose.
    The same was probably true for him. He had admitted that the only reason she was even here was to help finance his renovations. And she’d only accepted because she needed the journals to