Authors: Alysia S. Knight
She could almost hear her sister’s voice. “
It’s always all about Marley
.”
Marley reached up to wipe away tears from her cheek and found her hand shaking. Okay, this wasn’t getting her very far. She had to find help.
Her mind brought up the image of the man whose essence surrounded her. ‘You’re safe’. She clung to his words because she had felt them to be true. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
For a minute, she bathed in the thought until reality forced its way in. He couldn’t keep her safe. She wondered if anyone could. Marley slumped back against the wall and pressed her hands over her face.
If her logic was right, they’d already killed outright at least once. Not to mention the other deaths they were covering up. She wanted to curse Galan Bone but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Why did he have to leave a note for her? Why not send it to someone who could do something?
She drew in a deep breath. He’d sent it to her because she would do something about it, where he didn’t dare. Okay, maybe that wasn’t nice. The man was dead, but it was the truth, and it was time she started to do some thinking so she didn’t end up the same way. It was only pure chance she survived until now.
With a glance at the door, she started to work her way out of the wet clothes. The towel was large, thick and heavenly as were the clothes. The man had been lean in the hips but she still had to cinch the drawstring up to keep them from falling off her waist and then roll up the legs a good four inches. The top she could’ve almost worn on its own as a dress. Instead of rolling up the sleeves, she let them hang over her hands enjoying the warmth.
A sigh escaped her as she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a mad disarray of limp tangles. Make up, well she hadn’t started with any but knew she sure needed something to cover the circles under her eyes.
She looked a mess, which her sister would say was normal. She’d never been big on her looks, but she still had enough vanity to not want to appear in front of the gorgeous man who’d saved her looking like a drowned lab rat.
The comb on the counter was undoubtedly his. Marley only hesitated a second before picking it up. With her mass of hair, she preferred a brush, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She had absolutely nothing, not even a penny in her pocket, just a small memory card which would likely get her killed, and if she managed to survive, it would tear apart the company she worked for.
Taking one final look in the mirror, Marley decided she looked as good as she could. She opened the door cautiously. The empty bedroom carried only faint signs of the man who lived there. Keys and a wallet sat on the dresser, tempting Marley to check the ID. She shrugged off the idea, figuring after the way he’d treated her, she couldn’t be so rude.
Still, she couldn’t keep herself from looking around. She smiled, liking the feel of the room. The bedroom was so large even the king sized bed, with its heavy wood frame and matching dresser, didn’t overshadow it. The only thing that could be considered out of place was the open armoire doors, revealing a large flat screen TV. Everything else appeared neat and tidy. Even the bed was made. She could appreciate that. She liked order.
The clothes in the walk-in closet didn’t even fill a fifth of the space. There were two suits hanging there, but the rest of the clothes looked about evenly split between dressy casual and work around the house and yard.
Feeling uncomfortable about intruding anymore, Marley made her way down the hall following the faint sounds of movement. For a big man, he moved extremely quiet. She froze, catching sight of him in the kitchen. It hit her she didn’t even know his name. He’d told her, she was pretty certain of that, but couldn’t recall it.
Never really one to feel comfortable meeting new people, especially handsome men, she stood there uncertain how to approach. This man wasn’t only handsome, he was large, with a powerful aura about him.
What did you say to a man who had probably saved your life, took a shower with, though clothed, and you didn’t know his name? Add to that, if he knew the mess you were in, he would wish he’d never met you.
Locked in her turbulent thoughts, it took a second for her to realize he was watching her.
“It’s all right, come on in.” He had a low voice, not gravelly, but a hint of rumble.
Marley found herself moving forward.
“Are you hungry?”
She nodded, knowing if she opened her mouth, she couldn’t get the simple words out.
“Good, I hope you like chili, it’s homemade. I actually make a pretty decent chili. Not too spicy. I hate to burn my taste buds off. It’s just thick with lots of flavor. Here at the counter okay?”
Marley nodded again. She knew he was talking to help her relax and appreciated his effort. When he turned to spoon up the chili, she slid around the counter onto a stool.
Like his bedroom, this room was large. It opened to the family room with only an island counter dividing the rooms. A bay window jutted out to one side with a table set in it. Windows ran from the ceiling to a padded window bench on one wall of the family room, giving a great view of the outdoors. Unfortunately, the mountains were obscured by thick clouds and rain.
Marley turned back as he placed the food in front of her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He came around and settled in the seat next to her while she took a bite. She almost groaned with the sensation of food hitting her stomach, not realizing how hungry she was.
“Is it okay?”
“Oh yes. It’s wonderful.” She glanced over to find him watching her and dropped the spoon. It clattered to the counter and onto the floor. “Sorry,” Marley gasped, embarrassed at her clumsiness.
“No harm done.” He was already off his stool retrieving the spoon. With a casual flip, he tossed it into the sink and reached into a drawer for a new one.
Marley could feel the color heat her face and knew she was about to start stuttering. She hated when she did that. Why couldn’t she talk like she did when discussing chemical compounds or theories? “I, I don’t even know y-your name.” Fighting to get the words out right didn’t help. Thankfully, he didn’t comment on her difficulty.
“Zan, Zan Masters.”
When he looked at her, she knew he expected her to say her name. “I wa … ant to thank you, Mr. Masters.”
“Just Zan.”
“Zan.” She liked his name. It was different. Like him. “I’ve never met anyone named Zan before. Is it a family name?” Marley couldn’t believe she’d actually asked the question without stumbling over it.
“Sort of. My grandfather’s name was Zedekiah, my father Zeke, and I have a twin Zac.”
“You have a twin?” Marley couldn’t imagine two men looking like him.
“Identical, though I’m almost an inch taller. He won’t admit that though, says it’s barely a half inch.” There was no missing the teasing before he turned serious. “Are you going to tell me your name?”
“You might be better off if I didn’t.” It took her a second to realize she actually said it out loud. When she raised her eyes to him, she found him studying her.
“Are you in trouble with the law?” he asked without pause.
The question took Marley by surprise. She’d never been in trouble with the law in her life. She’d never even been pulled over for a speeding ticket. It took a second for her to answer. Her head shook negative first then the word came out. “No.”
He studied her. She knew he was making up his mind if he believed her. It didn’t take him long to nod.
Warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the food or the temperature of the house. The look in his eyes took her breath, and she became lost in pale, ice-blue eyes as they burned into her. Her chest tightened. A wicked smile crossed his face as if he read his effect on her.
“It’ll be all right.” His voice rumbled over her, bringing a wave of tingling with it.
“Marley,” she whispered but he heard.
The smile deepened along with the lines around his eyes. “It will be all right, Marley.” There was no doubting the promise in his tone, and for a moment, Marley let herself believe it true while she ate. Silence settled over them so easy, it surprised Marley when he spoke again.
“The phones are out. The storm must be affecting them, and I’m afraid we’re trapped here because there’s a ton of debris that came down the river and caught on the bridge. It will take a couple days to clear. But don’t worry, as soon as I can get a hold of the sheriff’s department, we can hook up a line to get you across.” He added quickly as it to relieve any fears that might have risen.
“Until then, I’ve plenty of supplies, and the house is built to be self-sufficient. Heating, power, water are all on solar cells that have a backup that’ll last awhile. Plus there’s always wood.” He nodded out the window.
“This is beautiful. I never even knew there was a house back in here.”
“It’s about a half mile to the road. I like the privacy.”
“Then I came along.”
“I don’t mind. Though, I’m still trying to figure out how you got here.” He looked at her, leaving it open, waiting for her to answer.
“I-I got lost in the st-storm.” The stammering over the words came back with a vengeance. She was a lousy liar, even when it was mostly the truth. She really had been lost or more just had no idea where she was going.
For an instant, the eyes watching her became glacial, and Marley couldn’t meet them. “Do, do you mind if, if I rest for a min-minute?”
There was a second’s hesitation as if he thought to say something but shook his head. “You can use the room that’s the first door down the hall on the left.”
“I’ll, I’ll just stay out here if you d-don’t mind.” For some reason, Marley found she was unwilling to leave his presence.
Zan stood and walked to the window seat and raised one of the sections, taking out a fluffy throw. “You can put this around you.” He dropped it on the brown leather couch which sat between the kitchen area and the large rock fireplace, facing the windows.
“Thank you.”
Her course to the couch took her within a foot of him. He shifted slightly drawing her attention as if she wasn’t aware of him already. He towered over her, with his broad chest and shoulders. The memory of being pressed into his chest surfaced with a wave of heat.
Clinically, she’d say he was a perfect specimen of manhood. Something inside her said he was more than just good-looking. Which was a problem, she didn’t have any experiences to draw from on how to handle a man like Zan Masters. He was way out of her league, but for a moment, maybe she could just dream she wasn’t an egghead nerdette, and she could attract a man like him, because she was definitely attracted.
Slowly her gaze slid up the column of his throat, over the strong chin dusted with dark stubble. His lips were thick, masculine, and she itched to raise her finger to trace them. Her breathing picked up a beat.
He had a fascinating mouth. One corner twitched a little and lifted, drawing her eyes up to meet his, and the air caught in her. The clear blue eyes blazed back at her like the hot blue flame of a torch as if he knew what she contemplated and was daring her to act.
“You can trust me, Marley.” The husky words wrapped around her in a duel promise. He would help and be there for her.
“You don’t know me.” She found the words.
“For some reason, it doesn’t matter.” He lifted a hand to smooth back a lock of hair that clung to her cheek.
Marley found she wanted to curl into the touch as she did to the man, which was a totally foreign reaction to her. Her eyes drifted closed as she fought for control. At the feather-light brush on her forehead, her eyes snapped back open. His face was only an inch from hers, and she wondered if it truly had been his lips brushing her and not just her imagination.
“Get some rest.” He reached around her to pick up the throw, letting it unfold as he draped it over her shoulders. “Then, if you want, we can talk.” He turned and disappeared into the hall.
It took a full minute before Marley could break the trance of staring after him and settle on the couch. She wrapped up in the blanket, snuggling into the warmth, dozing lightly.
It gave her comfort hearing him moving around. There was something in knowing he was there that settled her. Her mind recorded the sound of the washer starting, then him in the kitchen. She didn’t want to give into the exhaustion chasing her and sleep.
On its own accord, her mind drifted back to the morning. It had started so much the same as any other. She got to work, checked over her specimens. It was almost noon when she slid the last tray of petri dishes she had been studying back into their slot and went to her computer to record the data.
Finishing, a message notice caught her eye. She opened it.
If this message is delivered I am probably dead.
Hope you join me soon for Whistleblower. Happy reading.
Alysia S. Knight