Rampant

She could be back there with Grayson, though. She sighed, remembering the night before, and how he’d looked over breakfast. What a sight that was, a gorgeous hunk who even made breakfast for her. And he had to go and spoil it all. She’d got so annoyed. What she really wanted to do was tell him to stop talking bullshit and make love to her again.

“Maybe I should have,” she said with a soft chuckle, and turned the key in the ignition. Whatever his motivations were, he’d been a hell of a good lover. A clever woman would have humored him. It was a thought. She had to get away, if only for couple of hours. Grayson would be there when she got back. He’d promised he would be. Anticipation built as she thought about what that might mean.

As she covered the last few miles of her drive she could barely focus on anything else but going back to Carbrey. She’d focused the need on Grayson and she wasn’t even thinking about the apparition she’d seen. She was thinking about rolling on a bed with his cock buried inside her. It was only her stubborn streak that fought the urge to turn the car around. Her body was aching to do so, her mind constantly filling with images of the men she’d met since she’d arrived in Carbrey. On a bed, on a floor, in the long grass. Hot, sexy images of Grayson interspersed with images of Cain pouring her a brandy then touching her body, manipulating her flesh until she was weak with pleasure while she thought lewd thoughts about him and the postmistress.

Retail therapy might help take her mind off it, she decided, as she drove in to the city of Dundee, something normal to ground her. She found a multistory car park and walked determinedly toward the shopping district. But the shops failed to lure her inside. Instead she felt Carbrey, beckoning her back.

She grabbed a coffee and a warm muffin from a street vendor, intending to sit in the city square and study the Gothic revival architecture and then go into the museum, but she ate it as she wandered, unable to rest for even a moment. Her libido was still simmering away expectantly, her thoughts in Carbrey.

To add to her confusion, she felt as if she wasn’t alone. As she considered that, she realized that she hadn’t felt alone since she’d arrived in Carbrey. Surely, away from the place, she should feel alone now? Restless—her mind a maze of questions—she covered the city center streets quickly, weaving back and forth, constantly looking over her shoulder. There was someone else here, someone who was following her.

It’s a lover.

The thought darted through her mind, unsettling her even more. She paused by a crowd gathered to listen to a street musician and wrapped her hand around the back of her neck as she glanced back over her shoulder. The street was crowded, but she saw no one she knew. There was a presence, nonetheless. A man. Her restless libido clicked up a notch.

Why do I think it’s a man? Because I’m horny?

Turning on her heel she walked quickly on, until the shops petered out, and stepped into a gloomy alleyway. She stood with her back against the wall, breathing rapidly as she waited. A moment later, a figure appeared at the end of the alleyway, and it was a man.

Her heart skipped a beat, and then raced on.

The man went to walk past, and then paused and looked in at her, before following her down into the shadows.

Pressed back against the wall, she craned her neck, trying to see his face. He stood in darkness, and the light was behind him in the tall, narrow corridor between the buildings. Then he closed the gap between them in slow, sure, lazy strides.

“You,” she whispered, intrigued.

It was Crawford, the boat builder. He’d pursued her here, must have done. His eyes gleamed as he looked at her.

“You followed me.”

He moved straight in against her, hands flat against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. His eyes glowed strangely. He shrugged and gave her a lazy smile, a self-assured bloke who didn’t have to explain himself to the world. “Can’t help being curious.”

The way he had contained her in the cage of his arms made her pulse race. She eyed the column of his neck, imagining what it would feel like beneath her mouth.

“Why did you leave?” he asked. “Are you running away?”

“No.” She shook her head, denying it. His question had touched a nerve. Was she running away? From Grayson? The ghost? “I’m just doing tourist stuff.”

“I wouldn’t want you to go, not yet.” His glance lowered to her cleavage.

He looked so cocksure and interested. She had to fist her hands to stop from reaching out and pulling his hips against hers.

He moved closer, breathing in the scent of her hair. “We haven’t even got to know each other yet.”

Her eyelids lowered. His presence was sweet medicine after the disagreement with Grayson earlier.

“You’re so different today,” he commented, almost to himself. Then he ran his hands around her hair, as if smoothing it, but without actually touching it. A knowing smile took up residence on his face. “Must be the sea air,” he added, “you’re glowing.”

It was hard to muster a response with him looking at her the way he was. “Must be.”

“When I saw you yesterday, you caught my attentio

n. I’d like to get to know you better, if you’re up for it?” He moved his fingers over her neck and up, teasing over her earlobe, toying with her earring.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“Good.” He trailed his hand down to her torso, cheekily brushing the tip of her breast through her shirt as he did so.