stylishly hooked on the wall, and positioned herself against the bathroom mirror. Yes, her birthmark, a jagged scar-looking thing, was bright red, as if ...
As if what? She had been the woman shot with the arrow? Rene closed her eyes and willed her mind to clear of the inane thoughts. She was not some goddess from ancient Egypt. It was a dream, brought about by reading that strange book before bed.
As she replaced the mirror, she recalled a voice that had called to her from her dream ... Called her what? The name was on the tip of her tongue, but her mind wouldn’t grasp it. No, the voice had been calling the woman, not her.
She didn’t even begin to want to explore the fact that, yet again, Ralabos had been there and he had loved her. No—he had loved the woman in the dream immensely. And the woman had loved him unequivocally.
The finer points of the dream began to fade, leaving in their wake only the feeling of a love lost. A lover lost. Why did this story seem familiar? She began her morning routine while her mind tried to divert its thoughts to more realistic things.
For example, she was getting nowhere with finding Franklin Summit’s body, and quite frankly, she smelled a rat. Someone was yanking her chain, and she didn’t like it one bit. Today, she would demand to see someone in charge. This was ridiculous, there had to be a body somewhere.
It wasn’t until after she was dressed that she realized that, once she opened that bedroom door, she would have to face Ralabos. Her cheeks flamed as her mind rewound to last night and how her traitorous body had demanded more of him, like the drug that he was.
But why couldn’t she have a little guilt-free fun?
Her colleagues did it all the time; she heard the way they talked and had often wished she could indulge in some of the physical activity that seemed to drive them from one bed to another.
She knew the answer: because she didn’t want that—she wanted one bed, one man. She would rather be loved and cherished by one man than a slew of men whose promises were as empty as their hearts.
She decided to stay away from Ralabos Smith, as he was a puzzle that not only boggled her mind, he messed up her well-established common sense.
* * * *
“You promised you wouldn’t hide from me,” his voice drawled as soon as she stepped out of her room. Did he have a Lo Jack on her?
“Are you reading my mind or something?” she joked half-heartedly. Shutting the door carefully behind her, she tried to calculate the distance from her room to the front door of the mansion. It would take a minute, maybe two, to get there?
She had to get away from him. She wasn’t used to her mind going to mush and her body being as finely tuned as a new piano when he was around. If he merely quirked one of his perfect eyebrows at her, she wanted to touch his lips.
Damn it! Would he notice if she made a mad dash out the front door?
“Am I?” he countered, then smiled as if he really was reading her thoughts.
“Well if you are, it’s rude.” She walked with more confidence than she felt toward the dining area, though a sudden loss of appetite was making the trip seem useless now.
It was not lost on her that he stayed where he was and watched her as she walked. Rene was determined to get the upper hand.
She stopped and spun around. “I was not hiding from you. I was just sleeping in late. Have you eaten already?”
Ralabos slowly sauntered toward her, his movement and rhythm deliberate, sexy.
“I’ve eaten, but I would not mind watching you.” He let the innuendo blatantly hang between them.
Rene willed her face to remain one color.
“Also, I was wondering if you’d like to join me on a hike today, as they say.” He smiled, using the new language he had learned on what Jonathan referred to as the TV .
“Sorry, I can’t. I have to go to Cairo and find out what’s happened to Franklin’s body. If I’m lucky, they’ve located it by now.”
Ralabos