Minding Amy (9 page)

Chapter Five

Amy opened her eyes, squinting into the sunlight that blazed in through the open curtains. The sun didn't usually hit her bedroom window until mid-afternoon. She blinked into the light. A shadow crossed her vision and she sat bolt upright, the bed covers falling away. At the window a pair of eyes stared in at her, hands spread out against the pane of glass as the figure peered into the room.

Amy swore aloud and leapt up out of the bed.

Beside her, Sebastian pulled the sheet off his face. "What's the problem?"

He rose onto his elbow and glanced toward the window, at the view Amy was frowning at. "Ah, it's our charming caretaker. Apparently she can't contain her curiosity about our sleeping arrangements." He gave the woman a half-hearted wave and a sardonic smile. "Yes, dearie, we'll be up soon."

Amy chuckled.

"Come back to bed," he added, under his breath, and lifted the sheet with his free hand inviting her closer.

She couldn't take her eyes off him. He looked like Adonis himself, lying back against the headboard and pillows, tempting her to come and enjoy his body again. The look of his broad, strong chest, scattered with fine dark hair, lured her—as did the shape of his abdomen, the smooth hard muscle that ridged from beneath his rib cage to disappear under the sheet. That was quite a six-pack he had there. She melted inside, her body quickly reminding her of the pleasure they'd shared the night before. He'd been so attentive to her responses, making sure she was finely attuned to him. The rush she had experienced when he was finally inside her—she had never felt anything quite like that before.

He eyed her hungrily and patted the bed.

She slid back between the sheets. "Don't you think we should get up now she's–"

He silenced her with a kiss, his hand tracing the outline of her hip against his. He was already hard, nudging against her thigh. "One thing you'll have to learn about me," he said when they drew apart, "is that I don't buy into the great British tradition of scurrying out of the way for the staff."

Amy smiled and let him pull her into his arms.

* * * *

"What I don't understand," Amy mused, while spreading damson compote on her third croissant. "Is why Quentin Edwards got into this house and the story behind it, if it's a spoof?"

Sebastian stood up from the table and headed for the coffee pot. "It provided a quick and easy way to make a TV show, I guess."

She nodded. He was naked to the waist, wearing only his jeans. She took another nibble at her croissant, caressing his body with her gaze as he wandered back toward her with the coffee pot in hand.

He topped up her cup. "Do you know who it was that reported he was missing?"

The rich aroma of a fine Colombian blend filled the air. She leaned back in her chair to look up at him, pushing her heavy hair back from her face. He dipped down to wipe a smudge of damson from her lip with one finger and kissed her mouth before she replied.

"Mmm," she murmured. "You're such a distraction, how's a girl supposed to get her job done?" There was an element of truth in it. Right now she could barely think straight with him so close at hand.

He lifted his hands in surrender. "No touchy until you're done for the day."

"I was only teasing, I'm sure I can drag my eyes off you for two minutes while I get something done." She gave him a mocking glance.

He shrugged, folding his arms across his chest as he took up his seat opposite her. "Go on, you were saying."

"Someone at the TV studio reported it. They're on a six-week summer break from filming but apparently Quentin is always about, getting ready for the new season. He lives locally and checks in on a daily basis, even during the breaks, so when he skipped a few days a couple of weeks back, the security staff soon noticed."

"Are the police involved?"

"They've registered the fact he's a missing person, but they said it's too soon to do anything about it, especially as there is no evidence of foul play, well…not at this stage."

Sebastian nodded, thoughtfully. She noticed he stroked the line of the scar on his cheek as he did.

"How did you get the scar?"

"Um, skiing accident."

"Hey, you are actually blushing." Amy realized too late that he was quite uncomfortable about her question. Perhaps she shouldn't have asked about the scar. It might be a sensitive issue for him, no matter how attractive she thought it was.

"If I'm blushing it's because I'm not used to having breakfast with beautiful sexy women with next to no clothes on." He nodded at her panties and tank top accusingly.

"And I'm not used having breakfast with gorgeous sexy men stripped to the waist, so we're even." She poked her tongue out at him and he laughed. "Do you live alone?" she added.

"Just me and the cat, although the cat rules the house." Humor was never far from his expression. "You?" It was tentatively asked.

Of course, he'd declared he was single before they left London. For all he knew she might be having a fling with him on the side of a long-term relationship. "I've got a single studio flat over in Camden Town."

A comfortable silence fell over them for a moment as they absorbed the exchange of information.

"You said you're going to have a mosey around the town, ask a few questions?" He really was trying to help her stay on course.

She smiled. "Yes, I figured I could ask about the house and the legend at the local library, see if I can find out about the coven." She nodded her head down the passage toward the sitting room. "The house is a spoof but the Witches of Eastwick in there gave me the creeps, and maybe that side of it is based on a true story. Perhaps Quentin became interested in finding out about the coven and that's where he got sucked in."

"Have you got any strong feelings about the nature of his disappearance?" He swirled his coffee cup, before draining it.

"You mean, what do I make of it all?"

"Yeah, like have you got any gut instincts?"

"Well, I don't think it’s a murder case. Maybe he's gone walkabout, you know, on some sort of a personal quest. If it was anything more sinister, the police would know by now." She gave a speculative pout. There was a chance she might be reaching into Pandora's Box itself. However, if she was to be a serious investigative journalist, she had to acknowledge the possibility. "But, so far," she continued. "I can't figure out what the quest is or why he's gone off without telling anyone. That's the interesting part."

"What if he turns up?"

"Ah, I've got that one covered. I've requested the security guard at the studios let me know, gave him a cash incentive. He's got my phone number. And then, if he was willing, I'd try to get a meeting with the man himself."

Sebastian nodded, again looking thoughtful. "Your dad said your interview skills are superb."

"You really did have an in-depth discussion about me, didn't you?"

"Background information, I wanted to know why you needed protection." His mouth quirked to one side.

He obviously thought this was a hoot. "As I have persistently pointed out, I don't need a minder."

"Not even when you got spooked and ran into my arms in the hallway last night?"

She resisted the urge to call him a rude name. "You really have no shame."

"That's the kind of guy I am." He held up his hands. "So why do you want to do this investigative stuff, if it's people you are good with?"

"What do you mean?" She was starting to get a mite irritated by his line of questioning. It was bit like her father all over again.

"If you're good at interviewing people about their products or themselves, why go after a missing person? It's kind of ironic, don't you think?" He chuckled.

She folded her arms across her chest. "Why I want to do this is my own affair. I am not here for your amusement. As far as I'm concerned, you are superfluous to requirements."

"You didn't say that when I was between your thighs last night."

She opened her mouth to respond but the hot tick between her thighs stole her ability to speak, and the challenging look in his eyes made her forget what she was saying altogether.

"Is it because your old man used to be an investigative journalist?"

"Are you trying to analyze me?"

"No. I'm curious. I want to know all about Amy Norton." He lifted his eyebrows to emphasize his point.

For a moment she stared into his eyes and wished she could simply lose herself in his embrace and ignore everything else that was going on. But that wasn't the kind woman she was. She took a deep breath. "Maybe you're right. I grew up with all the excitement of his scoops, it was something to aspire to. Mostly, I needed a change from the sort of work I was doing. One too many pedestrian articles about the benefits of spa treatments."

"I can understand that. Everybody wants an adventure." He winked.

Despite her increasingly agitated mood, he was turning her on. Heat had gathered between her thighs and she ached to have him back there again.

He glanced at his watch. "Who are we interviewing first?"

Amy stared at him. The idea of him following around while she was trying to ask people sensible questions about Quentin Edwards rattled her. "Look," she said rising to her feet and clearing the dishes onto the work surface by the sink, "it's really not necessary to you to accompany me everywhere I go."

He was behind her in a flash, drawing her bottom to his hips with his hands wrapped around her waist. "It's my job, and you agreed that I could tag along."

His embrace made her legs turn weak. Lord, how was she supposed to get anything done with this man around? All she wanted to do was take him back to bed. Between his provocative male sexuality and his aggressive questioning about her job and her motives, she was a mess.
Get a grip of yourself.

Forcibly, she turned around and put her hands against his chest, attempting to ease him away. "Yes, it is your job, and let's make some ground rules about that, shall we? You're here to watch out for me, that’s all."

He stroked her breastbone with the back of one knuckle, which instantly made her nipples harden with anticipation.

"That’s all?" he quizzed. "No more hot sex?"

Amy sighed aloud. "For goodness sake, I'm trying to get my head together here."

"Maybe later?" He winked.

"Sebastian!" She was beginning to wonder if he'd been hired to distract her from her goal.

"Sorry." He adopted a serious expression. It lasted all of ten seconds.

She shook her head at him. "Give me twenty minutes to get showered and dressed then I'm ready to work." She emphasized the word "work" but the amused look in his eyes didn't convince her he'd take it seriously.

* * * *

Sebastian couldn't quite believe he was being paid to follow Amy Norton around while she chatted with the librarian, the postmistress, and the shopkeepers of Arundel, about the time the TV crew came to town. It was an absolute pleasure observing her, and he quickly noticed she had a knack of swinging the conversation around to see if anybody remembered anything unusual about Quentin or his crew. Her dad was right, she was great with people.

The way Sebastian saw it investigative work was a lonely job. He tried to keep a good sense of family amongst the team of investigators and security specialists that worked for him, to stave it off, but his gut instinct told him someone like Amy would not thrive in that world. It would be a shame to think of her out on the road hunting down facts, alone, or badgering the police to get the scoop she wanted, when she could be doing a more people-friendly kind of job.

Besides, he had a strong hunch she was barking up the wrong tree with her Quentin Edwards' investigation, and he was trying to figure out the best way to suggest that without appearing offensive or pushy. The main problem was she was approaching it as she would her normal line, acting on a press release or tip off. That might not get her the information she needed. It was her case, but his instinctive desire to help her demanded he do something positive toward her cause, whatever that might take.

Her dad hadn’t taught her much about investigative work. Richard Norton obviously didn't want his daughter to go into it full time, which Sebastian could understand. It would be good to see her get her scoop though. Maybe he could help her out, without her realizing?