Instead, he had spent a whole day and a night trying to keep his distance again. The house was quiet, biding its time probably. And she was locked away working on her book or preparing for her investigation. He didn’t know. He didn’t dare ask. It was better to keep away from each other.
It simply wasn’t helping. She was all he could think about. Her body in his arms, his mouth on hers, Alex whispering his name…
His gaze snagged on the notebook. It shouldn’t have been here at all. That one belonged in the study. It was one of her grandfather’s, leather-bound, with thick cream paper. He’d had them shipped over from somewhere on the continent and used to write up all his research into them. It might help her. But why was it in here?
The professor had studied the house for years, obsessed over it and its history and, like Sally and her family, was determined to keep whatever was infesting it locked away.
He flicked it open, reading the elegant script looping across the page. Dates, names, references to papers, even something that looked like diary entries.
Nick had accidentally inserted himself into her family too much already. He’d just hand it over. That was for the best.
The sound of a van outside brought his attention back to the world around them. The equipment Alex’s friend had ordered for her was due today. He didn’t want them to leave it sittingoutside if it rained so he locked the storeroom and went to the front of the house to take the delivery.
The back of the van stood open, and a wiry man was struggling to haul out a box. Nick went to help and found himself face to face with Seán MacBride from the village. He’d never liked the miserable git, who was always ready with a snide remark behind someone’s back, especially Nick’s. Sally had called him a chancer, when she was feeling generous. Theo had called him a little bastard. To his face on several occasions.
‘Nick!’ he squawked, and almost dropped the box. Nick caught it. The last thing he needed was for Alex’s expensive equipment to be damaged because he’d scared the delivery man.
‘New job?’ he asked.
‘Er…yeah. You know. Filling in.’ That made more sense. He didn’t see Seán holding down a job for long. They carried the boxes to the back door and then Seán went back to the van, reaching into the front passenger seat. ‘There’s…uh…there’s these too.’
It was a bouquet of flowers, dahlias, so dark a red they were almost black.
‘Who from?’ he asked, taking them.
Seán gave his trademark snide little laugh, the one that always put Nick’s teeth on edge. ‘She must have a secret admirer. There’s a note. Make sure she gets it, won’t you?’
He jumped back into the van and took off down the drive in a spray of gravel.
Now was as good a time as any. Nick knocked on the study door. He’d give her the flowers and then bring in the equipment for her.
Alex opened the door, smiling to see him there, and so he recognised the instant that she realised what he was carrying. Her face froze, the colour draining from her cheeks, and she all but threw herself back from him.
‘Alex?’ he gasped, moving to catch her but she raised her hands as if warding him off and collided with the back of one of the armchairs.
‘Where the fuck did they come from?’ Her voice sounded strangled.
Nick stared from her to the flowers and back again, completely confused. ‘The delivery guy brought them. Well, Seán from the village. Moonlighting probably. He said you have a secret admirer. There’s a note.’ He plucked it out from among the blooms and held it out to her. Alex didn’t move. She was frozen there.
‘Read it,’ she said.
Nick put the flowers down on top of the nearest cabinet and opened the little envelope. There was a card inside. ‘Thinking of you’ was embossed on the front and ‘and all the things we’ll do’ had been printed onto a sticker inside. That was it. It looked totally innocent.
He held it out to her again but she didn’t move. She was trembling. Nick put it down with the flowers.
‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘Alex, please? Talk to me?’
‘Did you – are they from you? Is this a trick to?—’
‘No.’
God, he was going to kill Seán. He kept picturing the nasty git’s smile and realised he’d known she’d react like this. He’d fucking known.
Nick spread his hands wide, trying desperately to show her he meant no harm. He’d always known he was big and intimidating. He used it in the past when he had to, on thugs, on poachers, on bastards like Seán MacBride. And he would again.
But not now. Not with her.
‘Alex, please, I’m sorry. Just explain it to me. Like I’m an idiot.’
