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By the saints, he missed them!
He had to admit he was in uncharted territory. He’d had brothers by the handful, but he’d lost his ma early and hadnae a single sister tae show him the softer side of things, or the way a lass would think or act, let alone what she might expect from a man.
“Och!” he muttered, tossing the rest of the items on the dresser. “Ye’re no’ courtin’ the lass, ye numpty! Ye’re merely helpin’ out a stranger in need. Just because she sought refuge in yer arms in a moment of crisis doesnae mean she wants tae be there permanently, despite how much ye liked it.”
He went to the window, peered out at the mostly empty parking lot, and closed the drapes. The rooms and spaces would fill up soon enough and even an accidental glance inside his room by someone passing by could lead to disaster.
Lying back on the bed, he listened to the muffled sounds of running water from the bathroom. ’Twas strange having someone share his personal space after being alone since leaving Wickham’s. He’d nodded to people, o’ course. Made small talk with strangers while waiting in an airport or a restaurant. But no one occupied space in his private world. No’ since he’d left Will Fenton behind. Blast his loveable hide.
Now, here was Tait. He kenned well enough she was merely passing through on her journey elsewhere. That their meeting was a mere bump on their separate paths. But he wouldnae deny that bump had had quite an impact. On him, at least.
And he had no idea what to do about it.
* * *
Startled awakeand disoriented by an unexpected noise in the dim room, Marcus tensed, turned toward the sound, and came to his feet in one fluid motion, ready for battle.
“Whoa!” Tait exclaimed, extending both hands in front of her. “It’s me, Tait!”
Marcus blinked and stepped closer; his brow scrunched in confusion. “Tait?” he asked incredulously.
Shrugging self-consciously, she touched her shoulder-length auburn curls. “What do you think?”
He couldn’t. A different woman stared out from a halo of spiraling russet locks. And when his gaze dropped, he sucked in a breath.
Tait looked down. “Oh. Sorry. I found this hanging on a hook in the bathroom. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting that ratty old sweatshirt back on. I hope you don’t mind. I’ll go take it off if you want.”
He blinked at her, searching for the appropriate words to say how very much he liked her in naught but his longshirt. “Nae, lass,” he finally managed. “Ye’re welcome tae it.”
The transformation was unbelievable. Gone was the blonde curtain of silky hair he’d rested his cheek against earlier. No’ that this wasnae just as charming. ’Twas just…different. And, he had to admit, extremely intriguing.
Reaching out he lifted a curl, fascinated as it encircled his finger. “How did ye do this?” The more he looked at her, the more he liked the change. But how did she accomplish such a thing? “Are ye magic, Tait?”
A soft snort accompanied her nod. “Oh, definitely. I conjured this new look with my magic box of hair dye, some enchanted scissors, and thelackof a hair-straightening flat-iron.” She flipped a lock of curls and shrugged. “I’m afraid thisau naturellook is my go-to when all I have to work with are my fingers and a hotel hairdryer. It’s still not my natural color, of course, but closer than the blonde. And somewhat shorter, as you can see. But it’s the best I could do, considering…”
Marcus noted her hesitation. She seemed to be contemplating something. Finally, she moved around him and settled on the bed, propped herself against the headboard with some pillows and tucked her long shapely legs beneath her.
“Earlier, you asked me to trust you,” she began hesitantly. “I need to know I can truly do that, Marcus. With everything. Even what I tell you.” She gave him an uneasy look. “You can’t possibly understand what a leap it is for me to trustanyone.”
He nodded, carefully considering her words. “If ye’re lookin’ for some kind o’ guarantee, Tait, I cannae give ye that. I give ye my word—which I consider far more valuable than anything else I could offer—but beyond that, ye’ll have tae rely on my actions tae speak for themselves.”
Her smile came slow but seemed genuine. “I would say your actions have spoken well.” She pulled one of the pillows from behind her and hugged it to her chest. “I realize a lot of what I’m about to tell you is going to sound crazy, but I swear it’s the truth.”
Giving her a single nod, he waited for her to continue.
“To answer your question about my hair… After I enteredWITSEC…” She uttered the name as if it was both a grave secret and a significant event and appeared to expect some sort of reaction from him.
“…the U.S. Marshall assigned to me suggested the first step in altering my appearance might be by bleaching and straightening my hair. The opposite of my natural look—as you can see.”
“Witsec?” He repeated the strange word as he turned on a lamp to chase the shadows from the room. “Is that somehow connected tae the murder ye said ye witnessed?”
She nodded, suddenly looking small and vulnerable huddled against the headboard. “It has an official name, of course, but it’s generally known as Witness Protection. It’s a government program formed to protect at-risk witnesses set to testify in Federal Court. Sometimes, even after. You probably have something similar in Scotland.”
’Twas likely, but he could hardly tell her ’twas too soon in his current state of mortality to know of such things. “Is that what they’re calling ye, Tait? At risk? So, those men chasing ye are…?”
“Intent on keeping me from testifying. They have to be connected to the man I identified. I walked in on something I shouldn’t have seen, so if they can keep me from testifying against him, the guy has a good chance of walking free.”
“And this…protection?” he drew the word out, not bothering to hide his frown. “Whoever ’tis doing the protectin’ doesnae seem tae be takin’ his job very seriously! Ye said ye had a Marshall assigned tae ye. Where is he now?”
