Chapter Ten
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Connor’s look was lustful and predatory, almost as if he wanted to devour her. It reminded EmmaLee of the wolf from the fairytale that exclaimed: All the better to eat you with, my dear. A small nervous giggle escaped and she tried to cover her tracks. “What? It was only a thank you kiss.”
She watched Connor blink a few times, his body stiffening as he stepped away from her. “I know. And you’re welcome. I should go.”
She’d had enough of his distant attitude. It was obvious he was attracted to her, but he kept putting up a concrete wall between them. “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “Since I can’t pay you for watching over me, now that Slater is gone, maybe I should just catch a bus back to Billard.”
“No!”
Okay, she hadn’t expected the response to be quite that strong, though his vehemence pleased her. “Why? I feel as if I’m inconveniencing you. I understood your need to get back to work when we were in Georgia, but now that you’re here, would it be so hard to smile once in a while?”
She probably shouldn’t have been so direct, but her heart and ego could only take so much coldness, or should she say hot and coldness. One minute he acted as if he wanted to ravage her, and the next it was as if she was distasteful to be around—like now.
Connor stabbed a hand over his head and glanced away. “I’m sorry.”
He sounded like Slater. “Saying you’re sorry won’t cut it.”
“Shit. I’m sorry… I mean I’ll try to do better.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Now she was the one who felt bad for forcing the issue—kind of. “It’s okay.”
“Listen. How about tomorrow night I take you out to dinner?”
Her pulse sped up. “Like a date?”
“Like a date.” This time his smile turned genuine.
At first, she thought it was a pity date, but he almost sounded happy about the way things had turned out. “Okay then.”
She placed a hand on his arm to escort him to the door, and he stiffened for a moment. She was about to ask him what was his problem when she noticed his five o’clock shadow had thickened and his eyes had turned almost amber. Her pulse soared. As much as she wanted to think it was because he was attracted to her, she didn’t want to get her hopes up.
The biggest question she needed to ask herself right now was whether she was ready to be with Connor and chance being hurt emotionally?
Baby steps, EmmaLee, she thought to herself happily, as she ran her fingertips over her lips remembering their kiss. Baby steps.
*
Connor rose early the next day and was in the office before EmmaLee had the chance to arrive. He needed to get in a few hours of work before her presence distracted him. Last night, he’d managed very little sleep, mostly because he kept reliving that kiss. It had been stupid on his part to check up on her, as being around her always caused his wolf to go wild, but he hadn’t been able to stay away.
Freezing her out like he had hadn’t been wise either. He’d hurt her feelings, and for that he was sorry. If he’d stayed however, he might have given into his wolf urges, and that could have led to something he might regret later.
He just hoped she didn’t decide he wasn’t worth being around and demand he drive her to the bus station—instead of merely hinting she should go back to Billard.
Connor didn’t blame her for wanting to go. Every time they shared a nice moment, his body would react, and he’d run off. Letting his wolf rule him was not an option right now nor was making love with her. She wasn’t ready.
She’s ready. She kissed you! his wolf growled. It’s you who aren’t ready.
Connor ignored the slam. That doesn’t mean she wants to mate with me. She was thanking me.
His wolf huffed, and he would have sworn he heard his wolf calling him idiot.
Well shit, he knew he was being a jerk, but it was easier to convince himself she wasn’t attracted to him than face his true emotions. The day was fast approaching, however, when it would be too late to make amends. Tonight’s date might be his last chance. He’d wine and dine her and enjoy being with her. When he took EmmaLee home, he’d kiss her goodnight and tell how good they were together. Then he’d leave—with a smile on his face.
As long as he didn’t expose his sharpened teeth or elongated nails, he would be okay.
Wishful thinking, his wolf said. I won’t let you just stop at one kiss the next time.
You have to behave. Our goal is for EmmaLee to really want us.
This time, his wolf didn’t respond.
He was worried she would be more interested in his wolf because he was a shifter than in him as a man, and he wanted her feelings to be true to both sides and not just for shifter research.
Connor checked his watch, antsy for Ronan to arrive. He needed to ask if her rants about dragon shifters had merit. Had Connor been too narrow minded about such things? If only dragons existed in the real world, he’d believe there could be shifters who were.
Dinosaurs were real at one point, his wolf chimed in. Some could even fly! Dragons aren’t far off the evolutionary chain, you know.
Perhaps he should do some research on that topic. It would give them something to discuss at dinner tonight. Connor opened his laptop to check it out when he spotted an email from Jackson labeled, About EmmaLee. His pulse soared. Why hadn’t Jackson called him with his findings instead of emailing them?
He had asked Jackson to do a background check on her, but did he really want to find out more? If she grew up under terrible circumstances he’d feel horrible.
The only way to know would be to open the damn thing. So he did. Connor had to read it a few times in order to make sure he was getting the facts right. While he’d thought he understood her, he wouldn’t have guessed that both of EmmaLee’s parents had been college professors teaching medieval lore and legends no less. At least one piece of the puzzle fell into place as to why she was so focused on the paranormal.
Next, he opened the attachment. It was from Social Services stating that after her parents died in a horrific fire when she was twelve, her father’s oldest brother and his wife, who were childless, adopted her. Uncle Robert was a doctor and Aunt Kathy worked in his office as his nurse.
There was no mention of whether they were still alive, but that would be easy to find out. Connor typed in the man’s name and location, and sure enough, his medical office, along with his picture, appeared.
Before he could read up on them, someone knocked on his door. “Come in.”
It was Ronan. Good. He could use a sounding board.
“I have some information on Mr. Coghill,” Ronan stated.
“So do I,” he said and motioned that he take a seat.
Ronan pulled up a chair. “You first.”
Connor told him that the cops spotted Coghill in New Orleans. “I’m thinking he might have bought two airline tickets as a decoy.”
“I’m not sure why he would do that unless he expected the cops to arrest him when he got off the plane. If that were the case, why get on a plane in the first place? Or pick that town?”
“You’re right. Surely, police have better things to do than waste their manpower on a man only accused of assault.”
Ronan shrugged. “Agreed.” He stroked his beard. “Nothing is making sense.”
Jackson tapped on the opened door and then stepped in. “Good. You’re both here. I have news.”
This was a record day. “I was just bringing Ronan up to speed,” Connor said. “Dad said he asked you to look at the surveillance cameras at the airport. Did you find something?”
“I did. Coghill didn’t get off any plane that landed in New Orleans around midnight. I did see him in the airport checking in, but then he walked out.”
“He must have flown.” Ronan said.
“Then it had to have been on a private flight,” Connor said.
“That’s just it,” Jackson said. “I thought that too so I checked all of the local airfields around Atlanta. No one fitting Slater’s description was on any of them.”
“What time did you see him exiting the Atlanta airport?” Ronan asked.
Jackson scrolled through his phone where he always kept his notes. “Around ten, ninety minutes before departure.”
“Then how did he get to New Orleans in less than two hours?” he asked.
Jackson held up his hands. “Beats me.”
They threw out a few more possibilities, but in the end they decided it didn’t matter. Bottom line was that Slater Coghill had been in New Orleans yesterday. Whether he was still there, they didn’t know. “If we knew his reason for going there, we might figure out what his future plans are,” Connor said. “I really want to know if he has any intention of returning to Billard to pick up his things or come after EmmaLee.”
Ronan leaned forward. “Can you think of a reason why he’d want to harm her again?”
“No. From what she told me, sometimes she’d say something that made him mad. I didn’t get the sense that he was targeting her,” Connor said.
“That’s what I sensed from our conversation. I’m happy to fly down there to check him out,” Ronan said. “If I see him and get his scent, he’s as good as mine.”
“Don’t bother,” Jackson said.
They both faced him. “Why?” Ronan asked.
“That’s what I came to tell you. My father, who seems to have resources I can only dream of, said that Coghill was spotted in New York City this afternoon.”
Connor shook his head. “That person has to be wrong.”
“They swear it was him.”
“Could Coghill have a doppelganger?” Ronan asked.
“If that’s true, we’re really screwed. We’ll never find him,” Connor said.
*
EmmaLee was nervous yet excited to go out on a date with Connor. A date! As in, they’d make eye contact, talk, and enjoy themselves. Lexi had called this morning to see if EmmaLee wanted a ride into work, but she told her no because she didn’t want to jinx anything. Just her luck, she’d find something on the Internet to tell Connor about, and then he’d cancel their dinner. No, it was better to keep out of his hair for at least one day; that whole absence makes the heart grow fonder thing.
Deciding what to wear was her biggest challenge. It never occurred to her when she was leaving Billard to pack something dressy. Even though Connor hadn’t told her where they were going, she wanted to look as nice as she could. The days were warming up, but the nights still had a chill to them.
After trying on and then eliminating half her wardrobe, she chose dark jeans and ankle-high boots, along with a black sweater to accentuate her blonde hair. The first time she’d let it hang loose, Connor had commented that he liked it that way.
When the doorbell finally rang, she jumped, not even aware she’d been standing there thinking. Inhaling, she rushed to open the door. While it had only been a day, seeing Connor jacked up her libido something fierce. He too was dressed in dark jeans and boots, but his blue button-down shirt and sports jacket had her hormones dancing. She was about to tell him how handsome he looked, but she wasn’t sure he’d appreciate hearing it from her. Connor was touchy when it came to personal things—or feelings.
“Come in. I’ll get my coat.”
Before he could step in, EmmaLee rushed over to the dining room table and grabbed it. Connor followed her and helped her on with it. Thrilled he really thought of this as a date, EmmaLee relaxed.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yes.” As she headed out the door, she grabbed her purse then locked up. EmmaLee didn’t need Slater returning from New Orleans, sneaking into her place, and then lying in wait when she returned.
As always, Connor opened and held the car door for her then motioned she slip inside. When he started the engine, she debated asking him if he’d learned anything more about Slater, but then decided it would be best if she concentrated on Connor the man, not Connor the bodyguard.
The problem now was what to talk to him about? Too many topics seemed to be off limits. “So what’s there to do around here for fun?” she asked, pretending as if she were free of Slater for good.
“What do you like to do?”
She chuckled. “I’ve mostly spent my life working. I’ve never really had time for fun, and the few free hours I’ve had, I usually read romance novels. You?”
He pressed his lips together as if he needed to think. “Well, when I was younger, I loved to hike, ride horses, fish, and stuff like that.”
“But now that you’re the owner of your company all you do is work, work, work, right?”
He glanced over at her and smiled. “Maybe I should hire a publicist to polish my image, but yes, I do work a lot.”
“You don’t go to parties?” she asked. While she didn’t attend many, when she was invited, it was the highlight of her month.
“I mostly attend family get-togethers—Sunday dinners and all. Not that we shifters don’t mix with humans, we do, but it makes for a more relaxed atmosphere when we don’t have to watch what we say.”
She’d never considered what it would be like to have to conceal her identity. “I’m lucky I don’t have to worry about those things.”
For the last mile to town, she studied the countryside instead of engaging in conversation. Toward the end of town, Connor pulled in front of an upscale looking restaurant. The building was covered in weathered wooden siding, and the windows and doors were decorated with rope lighting, making it rather festive.
“This is the Lake Steakhouse. Best food in town,” Connor said as he cut the engine.
The best, huh? Her heart warmed. He opened her door and escorted her toward the entrance, all the while looking around.
“You don’t think Slater’s here, do you?” she asked, trying not to sound worried.
Connor glanced down at her and smiled. “No. It’s an old habit. Jackson told me Coghill was spotted in New York City today.”
“I thought he was in New Orleans.”
“I thought so too. It’s possible the new intel is flawed. It would take some cash to fly from city to city like that. Furthermore, if he’s trying to avoid the law, flying isn’t the way to do it.”
He would know. “Are you sure it was him? I wouldn’t be surprised if Slater hired someone to go in his place.”
“Our person recognized his face. Or does he have a twin?”
“No. He’s an only child. But I’ve heard a ton of times that I look like someone else.”
Connor seemed to look right through her. “I find that hard to believe.”
What did that mean? Before she could ask, the hostess showed them to a table near the back. EmmaLee liked the lit candle decorations, the rolled white napkins, and the soft music. Several people were at the bar, but most of the tables in the main room were empty. Perhaps it was still too early for the dinner crowd.
Connor helped her off with her coat and then slipped in the booth across from her after she sat down. She had to give him credit. He was acting as if this were a real date.
A waiter rushed over and asked what they’d like to drink before either of them had the chance to start a conversation. Connor looked over at her. “White or red?”
“Red, please.”
“A bottle of your best Malbec,” he instructed the waiter.
EmmaLee almost became giddy. “What’s the occasion?”
“Occasion? I want to show you that I can be a civilized man instead of a bodyguard goon.”
“You’re not a goon. You’re a little distant at times, that’s all.”
He reached out, and when he placed his hand on hers for a moment, her body almost melted. “I’m trying to change.”
“I can see that, and I like it.”
Once the waiter delivered their bottle and poured the glasses of wine, Connor held his up in a toast. “May Slater Coghill be apprehended soon and your troubles be over for good.”
She touched his glass and smiled, but she struggled with the whole concept that this nightmare might be over soon. Once Slater was in jail, she’d have no reason to stay in Silver Lake. For the longest time, that was what she had wanted. Now, she wasn’t so sure.