Bishop's Rock. Amanda Stevens
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She had unconsciously pressed closer to Andrew. Released from the stranger’s gaze, she now moved away, peering through the doorway to glimpse the other guests.
A blonde appeared at the stranger’s side. “Oh, you must be the new arrivals,” she said cheerfully. “I’m Elise. This is...” She turned with a frown. “I’m sorry. What did you say your name is again?”
“I didn’t say.” His voice was low with a raspy edge. The sound of it filled Lea with inexplicable dread. “I’m Cole Matheson.”
“Elise Terry.” She was a striking-looking woman with short platinum hair and blue-green eyes. She had dressed all in black—slim trousers, fitted sweater and stiletto heels that added four inches to her already statuesque height.
Her crystalline gaze vectored in on Andrew. Her voice dropped expectantly. “And you are?”
He extended his hand. “Andrew Westin. This is my wife, Lea.”
“Well, Andrew Westin, Noah said you’d be arriving before dinner. Looks like you’re just in time for cocktails.”
“Who’s Noah?” Lea asked as they all exchanged handshakes and greetings.
“He’s a good man to get to know,” Elise said. “He pretty much runs this place. Anything you need, he’ll take care of. He’s also a tour guide if you want to venture off the main trails, and if you’re in the mood for a climb, he can see you safely up Bishop’s Rock.”
“We can handle Bishop’s Rock on our own,” Andrew said. “My wife and I are both seasoned climbers.”
“Is that so?” Elise’s brow arched ever so slightly as she turned to give Lea an assessment. “We should plan an excursion, then. How about you, Mr. Matheson? Do you climb?”
“I hunt,” he said as his gaze raked over Lea.
The stranger’s interest disconcerted her. She slipped her hand in Andrew’s and he squeezed her fingers before abruptly releasing her. “How about that drink?” he said, to no one in particular.
Elise was quick to accommodate. “There’s a bar in the great room. Self-service tonight. Come along.” She tucked her arm through Andrew’s. “I’ll show you around and introduce you to the others.”
Andrew shot Lea an apologetic glance as he allowed Elise to usher him through the archway.
Left alone in the foyer with Cole Matheson, Lea said self-consciously, “Are there many other guests?”
“Only a handful. Slow week, seems like.”
“Are you staying in the main house or one of the cabins?”
He cocked his head. “Does it matter?”
“No, of course, not.” She shrugged. “I was just trying to make small talk. Apparently, I’m no good at it.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” He searched her face for another long moment before he said, “I’m right down the hall from you, I believe.”
“You would know that since you saw me earlier on the balcony.”
“Yes.”
Lea paused, not at all certain she wanted to continue the conversation. But a perverse curiosity about the stranger got the better of her. “Had you been out hunting when I saw you? I didn’t notice a rifle.”
He smiled. “Just taking a walk.”
A walk? No, Lea didn’t think so. Her first impression upon spying him had been of a man on a mission, one of some urgency. But he seemed in no hurry now as he folded his arms and continued to watch her.
His unabashed scrutiny was truly alarming. She was all too aware of the bruises peeking through her makeup and the black hole that was her memory. She had the notion that this man was trying to test her. That he knew more about her than she knew about herself. If that were the case, he could be a valuable resource, but Lea had a feeling she was best not knowing his secrets. Something about the way he looked at her...watched her...
I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Mrs. Westin.
She physically jumped at the memory. Or was it a memory? Maybe her nerves had conjured the raspy voice in her ear, but that didn’t explain why her senses were suddenly filled with the scent of mint. The fragrance was so strong she might have been holding a fresh sprig beneath her nose.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“What? Yes. I just...remembered something.” She tried to shake off her unease.
“Must have been something unpleasant by the look on your face.”
“I need to find my husband.”
An unsettling combination of doubt and bewilderment glinted in his eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Fear prickled across her scalp. That voice! She had heard it before, a hoarse murmur against her ear.
“Mrs. Westin?”
“I’m...fine.”
He purposely lowered his tone as if to create a false intimacy between them. “Don’t worry. Your husband hasn’t gone far.” He glanced over his shoulder into the great room, where Andrew and Elise stood at the bar mixing martinis.
As Lea started into the room, the stranger straightened, falling in line beside her as she moved across the threshold. A few people milled about in small groups, chatting and sipping drinks as they waited for dinner to be announced. They took scant notice of Lea and her companion, but she was acutely aware of Cole Matheson at her side. How could she shake him when he seemed so insensitive to her discomfort?
She fixed her gaze on her husband, willing his attention. Andrew glanced across the room and smiled as he caught her eye, but he made no move to rescue her. He didn’t even motion her over. He seemed too absorbed in whatever Elise Terry had to say to pay Lea anything more than a cursory acknowledgment. She watched them for a moment before turning back to Cole Matheson.
“Would you like a drink?” he inquired politely.
“No, thanks, but don’t let me keep you.”
His blue eyes deepened. “I don’t drink when I hunt.”
She suppressed a shudder. “What do you hunt?”
“Big game mostly, the more elusive the better. I enjoy a challenge.”
Her chin lifted. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t appreciate your passion. I don’t understand how anyone can find pleasure in the taking of a life.”
“Don’t you?”
“Excuse me,” she said coolly. “I think I’ll get a breath of fresh air before dinner.”
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