Heart Wounds (A Miranda and Parker Mystery) (8 page)

Parker loosened his tie, studying her wearily. “Aren’t you even going to take off your clothes?”

“Uh,” she answered numbly.

He laid his tie across the back of a chair, pulled off his coat and laid it across the arm. Then he followed suit, removing his own shoes and taking his place on the opposite side of the bed. “Good idea.”

“Uh huh,” she said, her eyes closed.

“I know this place is out of the way, but I thought it might help the investigation to get to know those who are close to Neville.”

“My thoughts exactly.” She rolled over and threw an arm across his muscular chest. But all she had the strength for was to smile at the sensation.

Parker
moved under her, going for his pocket. He pulled out his cell. “I’ll set an alarm for an hour.”

“Sure
,” she said, opening an eye to scowl at him and wishing they could sleep until morning. And that they could beg off going to that dinner.

But before she could
even suggest it, her eyes fluttered close again and she was fast asleep.

An hour later, Miranda’s eyes popped wide open at the sound of the rooster crow ringtone she’d given Parker as a lark last Valentine’s Day. That would teach her to play games.

Groggily,
she reached across him, groping for the thing.

Parker grabbed her wrist and pulled her on top of him.

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” the phone buzzed.

“Turn that thing off. It’s making my jet lag worse.”

He chuckled, found it on the nightstand and hit the button. Relief.

He brushed back her hair and fixed her with a lusty gaze in his gray eyes. “I’ve
never made love in a castle before.”

Raising a brow, Miranda affected a British accent.
“Oh, haven’t you now?”

Grinning with delight he pulled her to him and kissed her hard.
He could really get horny when he was sleepy. He rolled her over and dipped his tongue into her mouth, making her groan with delight and temptation.

She closed her eyes and let him work his way across her cheek and down her neck before she stopped him. Before she lost the ability to speak. “We’ve got to
quit. Party.”

He stopped kissing her and rested his head against her shoulder. “What we sacrifice for others.”

“So true.” She couldn’t resist reaching down and giving his butt a tweak before she rolled over. Of course he was still in his dress pants so it wasn’t as much fun as if he’d been naked. But he felt it.

“I will return that favor later,” he said in a low, lusty voice.

“I was hoping you would,” she laughed and headed for the suitcases. It took her a minute to realize they were empty. “Someone’s either already unpacked for us or stolen all our clothes.” She looked around the room. “Where’s the closet?”

“Try the
wardrobe.” He gestured toward the corner at a beautifully carved piece of furniture with a mirror on the front of it.

She tiptoed over to it and gingerly opened the door. T
heir clothes were hanging neatly inside. “Cool,” she grinned.

Parker got to his feet and stretched. She caught the sight of his delicious, well-formed body in the mirror and was starting to think twice about ditching that dinner party.

He had other ideas. “Do you want the bathroom first?” No cozy shower together for them. At least not yet.

With a sigh, she turned back to the wardrobe, digging for the dress he said he’d brought for her. “No, I want to try this on first.”

“All right. I won’t be long.” He grabbed his shaving kit off the dresser and headed for the adjacent room.

It took a while to paw around in the roomy wooden container
, but the smell of cedar and lavender from a cachet inside it was nice. At last her fingers landed on something.

Here it was. She pulled out
the hanger and held the dress up to herself. It was a satiny thing in ocean blue she remembered Parker had said brought out the color of her eyes. It had a twisty bodice and waist and a sheer neckline embedded with jewels.

Fancy, but she guess she’d fit in
wearing it tonight. More than if she sashayed in with her jeans and a T-shirt, which would have been her first choice.

While the sound of running water came from the bathroom, s
he pulled off her slacks and blouse, tossed them onto the foot of the bed and slipped the delicate outfit on.

After zipping it up, she turned to
look at herself in the mirror.

Bummer. It looked okay, but she’d lost weight since she’d last worn it. Since her long hospital stay and rehabilitation.

What was she going to do? It was the only dress she had. She reached behind her and pulled the fabric together. Quickie alteration? Maybe Sir Neville had a tailor stashed away somewhere in this castle.

She spun on her heel and headed into the bathroom.
She gave the door a quick knock. “Parker? I don’t—”

The bathroom was round and lined in big gray stone blocks, like a mediaeval tower. Surrounded by stained glass windows, Parker was
lying back in an old-fashioned tub, his arms and torso glistening, his dark hair plastered on his muscled chest.

She couldn’
t help grinning as her libido spiked. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

He turned his head and eyed her with a mixture of annoyance and lust.
“There doesn’t seem to be a shower. Not unusual in a home of this age.”

“Guess not.” She sauntered over to the tub, pulled up a wicker hassock and sat down,
hiding a snicker as she greedily took in his naked body under the water. She didn’t know what he’d put in the water, but he sure smelled delicious.

He raised a
dark, wary brow. “I thought we had agreed to attend the party.”

Playfully she
splashed her fingers in the water, just over a man’s most cherished part, and made a little wave. Cleopatra wending her barge up the Nile in search of Marc Antony.

“Miranda,” he warned.

She pursed her lips. “I’m rethinking blowing it off.”

He took her hand in his
wet one, turned it over and gently kissed her palm. “As much as you’re tempting me, we can’t leave Neville alone tonight. We promised we’d be there.”

She sighed
and leaned back. Yeah, they did. “You just can’t say no to the old guy, can you?”

The lines around his eyes creased as he took on a faraway look
. “I was thirteen when my father brought me to London to meet his friend Neville Ravensdale. He thought it would be a good, cultural experience for me.”

“
Mr. P took you to Eaton House?”

“
Neville was living in London at the time. He was simply Mr. Ravensdale then. I believe Lady Davinia’s first husband was still alive. But Neville was acquainted socially with both of them and we came here for some outdoor party or some such.”

“
Oh, yeah. Sir Neville said Davinia was married to the Earl of…someplace.”

“
Eaton. As in Eaton House. Her son inherited the estate, but she has use of it for her lifetime, as I understand it. And she’s Lady Davinia. Sir Neville isn’t a peer.”

“A what?”

“A peer. Peerage is the system of hereditary titles in the United Kingdom. Our host is addressed by ‘Sir’ because he’s been knighted by the Queen. Lady Davinia is a daughter of a peer as well as the widow of one. She has her own title.”

She waved her hands in the air and got to her feet.
“Forget I asked.”

The designations of English lords and ladies was
n’t something she wanted to know about. Her world had always been mere survival. Getting through a tough day laying brick, and an even tougher night of bad dreams and longing for her daughter.

That made her think of Mackenzie and her request yesterday. Surely
the girl had forgotten about that by now.

Parker wasn’t finished. He reached for her hand.
“Miranda, when my mother died, Neville came to Atlanta to be with me and my father for a time. We had some long talks. He was very comforting.”

Parker had lost his mother at sixteen
, and Miranda knew it had put a strain on his relationship with his father at the time. No wonder Sir Neville meant so much to him.

“
Okay, I get it.” She sat back down. “So what about this case, Parker? I hate to say it, but it looks to me like George Eames is in pretty hot water.” She dangled her fingers in the bath to emphasize the point.

Parker drew in a frustrated breath, his brow creasing.

She dangled her hand in the bath water again and went on. “Eames admits he was the only one to see the dagger. He was the one who set the security system in the storeroom. There’s no video to prove otherwise. All the evidence points to him.”

“It does. But we both know it’s circumstantial. It doesn’t prove conclusively he did it.”

That was true. But it was also true Parker didn’t want Sir Neville’s friend to be guilty. “So how do we disprove it? What’s our next move?”

“What do you think?”

“I thought you were in charge here.”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “I want to hear your thoughts.”

Was he really picking her brain or just testing her? But maybe she should come at it from a different angle. “Eames had opportunity and means, but if you believe what he says about his loyalty, he doesn’t seem to have motive. Other than money.”

“A man who lives in a museum working with precious artifacts doesn’t seem to be the type to steal for money.”

She shrugged. “Maybe he’s gotten tired of that. Maybe being around all those priceless things finally got to him.”

“Is that what your gut tells you?”

Her shoulders sagged. “No.” Her gut said the man was innocent, but she liked Sir Neville, too. Maybe they were both too biased for this case. She gave the water another splash. “And so the only thing we can do is hunt around for someone who does have motive.”

Parker’s face turned determined.
“And that’s what we’ll do at this party.”

“It’s a start, I guess.”
She eyed the water.

“All we have
for now.” Parker took her hand and lifted it out of the tub. “And we’d better get ready if we’re going to make it on time.”

With a sigh of longing, she got to her feet
and dried her fingers on a nearby towel. “Oh, you made me forget why I came in here. This dress doesn’t fit anymore.”

“
It doesn’t?” He eyed her with concern.

“The waist is too loose.
See?” She put her hands on either side of the garment and shifted it back and forth.

Parker scowled. “You haven’t been eating enough.”

She rolled her eyes. He had to get bossy, didn’t he? “I could eat a horse tonight if I had something to wear to dinner.”

He thought a moment.
“Call down and see if Lady Davinia has a needle and thread.”

She dropped her arms at her side.
“And what will I do with that?”

“I’ll sew
the dress.”

She let out a laugh.
“You can sew?” Parker was handy, but he was used to having a staff to perform a lot of menial tasks for him.

He looked offended.
“I’ve sewn my own wounds at times. It shouldn’t be that much different.”

“Okey-
dokey.” She had to see this. Suddenly feeling more awake, she turned and stepped back into the bedroom.

###

There was no phone in the chamber, so Miranda decided to go downstairs herself and find her hostess or maybe a servant.

She found her way through the maze of halls to the big stone staircase, recognizing the dude in armor on horseback and hurried down the steps. At the bottom, she wasn’t sure which way to go, so she headed across the huge space and into the halls on the other side. After following a path this way and that, she was wishing she’d dropped breadcrumbs behind her when she spotted a door that was ajar.

It was imposing in the darkened hallway. Twice her own height and made of thick paneled oak. But light was streaming through the opening, so there had to be somebody in there.

Miranda put her hand on the elaborate brass knob and was about to push the door open all the way
in when she heard a voice.

“What on earth were you thinking, Neville.” It was Lady Davinia.

She heard Sir Neville mumble something back but couldn’t make out the words.

“
You couldn’t pick up your mobile and call me?”

Miranda blinked in surprise. The woman’s accusatory tone was biting. She was really mad.

There was a creaking sound and a slam. “I was rather preoccupied, Davinia. Didn’t you hear what happened? The dagger—”