Night Of The Blackbird by Heather Graham

Author:Heather Graham
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781426828645
Publisher: Mira
Published: 2001-11-27T23:00:00+00:00

“Moira, now what the hell are you up to?”

She blinked, then realized that she must have passed out, if only for a few minutes. There was a light on behind the bar, and she was being held in a man’s arms. Danny’s. She was still on the floor, but he had lifted her up and was studying her face.

“Danny,” she breathed. She stared at him, not sure whether to fling herself against him or find the strength to leap away in terror.

“Who else were you expecting down here?”

“Were you out?” she asked.

His eyes narrowed. “For a bit. Why? What are you doing down here? Judging by the way you’re dressed, I don’t imagine you trekked down the stairs to seduce me.”

“Danny, damn it, did you just conk me on the head?”

“Are you daft?”

“Who was in your room?”

“No one I know about.” He seemed tense. “Why?”

“There were sounds. Voices.”

“From my room?”

“Yes.”

“The television?”

She hesitated, staring into his eyes. In the murky light, they seemed a pure gold. His features were in shadow, which seemed to emphasize the lean planes and rugged angles of his bone structure. She had been so frightened. Here, in her family business. In a room where she had spent half her life, in a place where she had never been afraid before.

She’d heard voices, seen shadows, touched…something. She’d sensed the danger, felt it at her nape, known it in her bones….

And it might well have been him.

But the fear was ebbing from her, just as the darkness had ebbed from the area around the bar.

“Moira, what’s up? You said you heard voices.”

She sighed, sitting up, rubbing the back of her head. There didn’t seem to be a bump there.

“It might have been a television,” she admitted. “I thought the front door was open…then it seemed your door was open. It was cold, and I thought Patrick had come back and forgotten to lock up properly….” Her voice trailed off.

“You weren’t on your way out to lover boy’s hotel room, eh?” he teased.

“Shoeless and in a T-shirt?” she retorted.

“Ah. You save the bare feet and T-shirts for me. How sweet.”

She frowned. “I really hit my head. I think I blacked out.”

He leaned toward her. “You hit your forehead. Poor baby. Hang on.”

He rose, walking behind the bar, finding a clean towel and filling it with ice. As he came back to her, she tried to rise. “No, no, you might be dizzy, don’t try to stand. Hey, were you drinking tonight?”

“No!” she said indignantly. “Two glasses of wine at dinner. Danny, I could have sworn there was someone in front of me when I fell. Were—were you there all along?”

“No, I wasn’t, and the front door was locked when I came in.” He hunkered down by her, pressing the ice to her temple. She shivered.

“That floor is probably cold. Grab the ice.”

She did so automatically. She was cold, and the ice, though it felt good against her head, sent rivers of frost racing through her.

She realized he had given her the command so he could scoop her up.

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