Moving Target (RU1) by Elizabeth Lowell

Author:Elizabeth Lowell [Lowell, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-11-04T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 35

PALM SPRINGS

FRIDAY AFTERNOON

Serena stood in a guest room on the second floor of Erik North’s bemusing castle. The view of the street was partially blocked by a blazing riot of bougainvillea, but she could see enough. Too much, actually.

“He’s still out there,” she said unhappily.

Erik didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know what she was talking about. The green baby pickup had indeed followed them off the freeway, up the sand-scoured four-lane highway to the edge of the city, through the illogical maze of residential streets in old Palm Springs, and right up to the gate of his home.

“You want a different room?” he asked.

“One without a view of the street?”

“Yeah.”

“If you wouldn’t mind . . .”

He grabbed her bag off the bed. “Follow me.”

She walked behind him, trying not to admire the flexed strength of his bare forearm holding her bag, his easy stride, and the fit of his faded jeans. Something about him made her palms tingle, and that made her feel like rubbing something—or biting it. It wasn’t a feeling she liked or knew how to handle, because she had never had it before she met Erik.

When Picky began to wind around her feet, more than a little edgy and demanding in his new surroundings, she was glad of the excuse to pick him up. He allowed her seventeen seconds of adoration, then leaped out of her arms to continue exploring the house.

“How about this one?” Erik asked.

She looked at the open, sunny room with its baronial furnishings, high ceiling, and brass ceiling fan. The bedspread on the huge, raised bed was a machine-made tapestry that had once been jewel-toned but had faded over the years to a quiet kind of radiance. The rug was an old kilim with its hallmark slit-weave technique, which resulted in designs shaped like diamonds or triangles and diagonal stair steps marching across the center. The rug’s yellow, red, green, and blue-black colors were also faded, yet still vibrant.

“Perfect,” she said simply.

“How do you know? You haven’t even looked out the windows.”

Guiltily her head snapped up from studying the beautiful old handwoven rug. “I’m sure the view will be—“ Her words stopped when she looked out the windows that took up most of the west wall. “Oh, the mountains! That’s Dry Falls, isn’t it?”

He smiled. “Especially this winter. We’ve hardly had enough rain to make a drool line down the stone cliff.”

After a few moments Serena looked away from the view of her favorite mountains. The subtle signs of habitation that she had missed on her first survey of the room now came out clearly: sketches tacked on a big bulletin board near the closet door, several electronic charging cradles plugged in near the dresser, a portable computer humming quietly to itself on a bedside table that was also a desk, and a book detailing medieval designs open on a second bedside table.

“This is your room,” she realized. “I can’t take it.”

“Don’t worry, I had the housekeeper come in for a fast lick this morning after I left.

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