His Bodyguard by Muriel Jensen

Author:Muriel Jensen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2012-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

AMOS AWOKE TO THE SOUND of rain beating against the roof and the windows. He got up in surprise and drew the curtains back. Rain struck the glass, leaving dots and dashes, and beyond it an angry gray sky had turned the sunny lakeside into a gloomy landscape.

He was surprised to see that his bedside clock read seven-thirty. He never slept this late, but then at home he didn’t usually lie awake at night thinking about a beautiful redhead who blushed when she talked about lovemaking.

Anger boiled in him when he thought about the man who’d left her at the courthouse, then faxed her to make it clear it had all been her fault.

He was going to have to convince her that it wasn’t. He was just waiting for the right moment.

He pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt and went out into the kitchen, expecting to see Meg sitting at the table over a bowl of cereal. Her room had been so quiet he’d been sure she was up.

But the kitchen was empty. Only the sound of drumming rain filled the quiet room.

As he walked back into the living room, he noticed the damp chill. Even though it was June, a fire would warm the cabin and the atmosphere.

The seasoned wood in the log carrier caught quickly, and he had a cheerful blaze going in a matter of minutes. They could eat on a blanket in front of it. Then he might be able to get this day going in a direction that would be conducive to teaching Meg she wasn’t sexless at all, but a warm and responsive woman.

And a late-sleeping one this morning, he thought, when there was still no sound from her room.

He went to knock on her door to ask her what she wanted for breakfast. When there was no response, he turned the knob, found the door unlocked and peered inside.

The room was empty, the covers thrown back, Meg’s pajamas in a heap in the middle of the bed as though she’d changed and left in a hurry. Her bathroom was empty.

Beginning to worry, he even checked the extra bedrooms. They were both empty. Meg was not in the house.

Walking more quickly, he went to the living room window and looked out at the driveway. The Jeep was still there, so she hadn’t left in the car. But where was she?

He went back to his room for a jacket, then walked out the front door to check the pier. It was empty, and the little boat was still tied to it.

What in the hell...?

Now running, he went to the road, looked up and down it and didn’t see a soul. He went around to the back of the house and stopped to listen, but all he could hear was the drumming of the rain.

In unguarded moments, he remembered, Meg would often stand by the kitchen window and look out at the woods. Had she headed off for a walk before it started raining? That seemed like a possibility until he remembered the blister on her heel.

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