Page 4 of Sullivan

I had been found.

The room spun around me and went dark.

The last thing I felt was cold, damp. The last thing I heard was a deep voice.

“Feck!”

CHAPTER THREE

SULLY

As soon as she started to sway, I was in motion. Ignoring my wet feet and freezing-cold overcoat, I sprinted across the room, catching her before she hit the floor. I carried her to the sofa, laying her down gently. I shucked off my coat, throwing it closer to the fireplace, and toed off my wet, ruined leather shoes, tossing them as well, then kneeled beside her.

I brushed the long, silky hair from her face, worried how pale she was. Her skin was white, her full lips and surprisingly dark lashes splashes of color on her face. She was lovely.

I shook my head as I stared at her.

Who was she? Why was she in my cottage?

Her eyes blinked open, and for a moment, she stared at me, confused. Then the same terrified expression I had seen before she passed out emerged again, her dark eyes widening. A small whimper escaped her lips. The need to comfort her was paramount.

I shook my head, gathering her hands between mine. “No,” I said clearly. “You are safe. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She blinked, her breathing labored. I had no idea how to ease her.

Or why I wanted to so desperately. For all I knew, she had broken in and was a squatter.

“I’m Sullivan Black. People call me Sully. This is my cottage,” I advised her. “I’m not here to hurt you,” I repeated.

“S-Sully?” she responded, her voice soft and lovely. And clearly not Scottish.

“Yes.”

“Bonnie’s cousin?”

“Yes,” I replied eagerly. “You know Bonnie?”

She struggled to sit up, and I slipped my arm under her, assisting her. Then I sat beside her, drawn somehow to stay close.

“I work with Bonnie. She gave me the key to stay here for the weekend. She sent you a text.” She frowned. “You didn’t reply. You were busy with a big case. She said you wouldn’t be here.”

I felt as if I were being reprimanded. Scolded mildly by the pretty woman. For some reason, I found it enchanting.

Her eyes flew to the window. “I have to go now.”

I shook my head, partially amused at the circumstances, but more concerned with my unexpected company.

“You can’t go anywhere, mo fhiadh beag.” The term of endearment slipped out without my thinking. I pointed to the windows and the snow and wind beating against them. “Neither can I. The storm is more intense than was expected, and there’ll be no more trains tonight.” I had to chuckle. “I barely made it from the village in one piece. My arse is sore from falling a few times.”

A timid smile broke out on her face, transforming her from beautiful to mesmerizing. I couldn’t stop staring at her.

“Ouch,” she mouthed.

I tilted my head. “Canadian?”

She nodded. “Yes. I met Bonnie when she was in Canada. We kept in touch.”

“Ah.”