Free The Harp and the Fiddle: Glenncailty Castle, Book 1 by Lila Dubois Page B

shifted, goose bumps breaking out on her naked body. She was lying curled against Tim on a pool chair. From the feel of it, the newly delivered chair was still wrapped in plastic. Beside her, Tim’s breathing was slow and even.
    Caera slipped out of his arms. Grabbing the first dry article of clothing she found—Tim’s shirt—she slipped it on and tiptoed out of the pool house. The night was cold and clear. Her toes pinched with pain as she dashed across the gardens to the side entrance of the west wing. It was late and all the hotel room doors were closed, so Caera was able to sneak to the housekeeping closet near the elevator without seeing anyone. 
    Towels pressed to her chest, she raced back, wincing as stones in the path dug into her cold feet. 
    A light flicked on in the pool house. The small ball of light was faint, as if it came from a lighter. Tim must have woken. A second light appeared. The twin flames wavered and danced in an uncertain pattern. Caera drew in a breath. That wasn’t Tim with a lighter. That was something else.
    Fear clawing at her, Caera sprinted the rest of the way, heedless of the damage to her feet. There were things in Glenncailty that no scientist would ever be able to explain but that were real and dangerous. She hadn’t thought this building was haunted, at least not after it was gutted.
    She burst through the door. 
    The lights hovered over the pool, their reflections on the surface of the water making it appear as if there were four. Wary, Caera edged along the wall towards Tim. She’d gone no more than five steps when the lights froze, then zoomed towards his sleeping form.
    “Tim!” Caera shouted his name and ran. 
    Tim jerked up, head whipping around as he looked for her. There was a split second when his startled face was illuminated by the lights, which were on a collision course with his chest. Just before they would have touched him, they blinked out. 
    “Caera?” He stood, naked body silhouetted against the wall of glass doors.
    Her heartbeat slowed, though adrenaline still coursed through Caera.
    “I brought towels.” She handed him one.
    Tim took a towel from the stack she held and wrapped it around her shoulders. He dropped to his knee and used a second towel to rub her legs before wrapping it around her waist “Did you see something? Were you calling me?”
    Caera looked down at him, unsure how to handle the caring attention. She took a towel and hesitantly draped it around his shoulders. “Thank you,” she whispered.
    “You’re welcome.” He didn’t seem to notice how odd she found being cared for. “Did you shine a flashlight at me or something? I could have sworn I saw lights and heard people talking, and then you were here.” His eyes widened in comprehension. “Was that a ghost?”
    Caera looked away, not sure how to deal with his delighted horror. After a moment, she realized she didn’t know what to say, and settled for quoting Shakespeare. “‘Now it is the time of night that the graves, all gaping wide, every one lets forth his sprite.’”

Chapter Six
    The Light
    Caera looked at the pool, grimacing. Somewhere at the bottom were a variety of clothing items she couldn’t see. Her wet clothes from the pool deck were bundled in one of the towels while she wore a second towel around her chest along with her pants. She’d found her shoes. Tim stood behind her wearing his shirt and a towel, staring at the dark water. “It’s late,” she told him. “You should take yourself to bed.”
    “We should both go to bed. Together.” He rubbed her upper arms, his chest at her back warm and solid.
    Caera shook her head. “Ah, no. That wouldn’t be a good idea.”
    “Why?”
    “I have to go.” Caera twisted away from him, slipping on her wet shoes. 
    “We have a deal.”
    Caera stilled. She shouldn’t see him again, certainly shouldn’t touch him again. She hadn’t meant to touch him the first time. Sorcha had one-night affairs with men