“I’ve been with you all night and you’ve been tucked up here the whole time.” Krista came forward, speaking super-quick, as if she’d been saving up the small speech for hours. “You’re safe. You’re totally safe.”
Safe? Why wouldn’t she be safe? And where was here?
“Well that’s good. I guess.” Savannah muttered, wishing Krista would clarify things a little more.
Why couldn’t she remember anything? What the hell had been going on? She pushed herself up, wincing at an unexpected pain in her hand. She glanced at it and paused—why did she have a needle inserted into the back of her hand and taped on?
Krista smiled and audibly sighed in relief. “Yep, you’re okay. But man, I’ve never seen the Icicle looking so emotional.” She moved to pour a couple of glasses of water from the pitcher on a tray beside the bed. “Frankly, he looked hot.” She fanned herself with her free hand.
Savannah just stared at her. “The ‘Icicle’?”
“Connor.” Krista added, like it was obvious. Her smile turned sly. “You should have seen the way he stood over you.” She fanned her cheek again and giggled.
Savannah’s bamboozled brain finally started putting the pieces together.
The Icicle. Connor. Ultra short hair. Angry blue eyes.
No. No freaking way.
Disbelief knifed through her nausea.
Krista fell silent and though she kept a smile on her face, a different kind of concern crept into her eyes. Caution. “Don’t worry,” she said quickly, setting the glass down and rubbing her palms down her trendy new après-ski pants. “Just tell him everything you remember. It’ll be okay. He’ll fix it.” She bit her lip for a second. “Connor takes care of everyone. It’s like, what he does.”
What, so that ‘emotion’ she’d mentioned a second ago was nothing all of a sudden?
“What he ‘does’?” Savannah echoed, trying to ignore the rising tide of horror within her.
“Mmm hmm,” Krista nodded brightly. “You know, it’s just his thing. He’s the big man ‘round here… makes sure everyone is all okay…”
The big man—as in the King of the Mountain?
A fragment surfaced, a hazy image… a few words.
I’m so stupid.
She sure as fuck was.
“I need to get out of here.” Savannah pushed back the light coverings. “Where are my boo—”
“No, just wait. You have to wait.”
No she didn’t. She had to get out of here.
But the door opened, right on queue.
He walked in. Savannah froze in place and just stared at him. No way could this be Connor Hughes.
He met her gaze square on. Hers locked. Yeah, there was no noticing anything else the minute he appeared.
He didn’t so much as glance at Krista, he just walked forward right to the side of her bed. Peripherally she took in the worn, faded blue jeans. The loose white tee that exposed tanned, muscled forearms. And he had freaking bare feet. Didn’t that just cement how obviously at ease he was in this environment. In this freaking room. Now why was that? It better not be his room.
Savannah’s rage trebled.
“You’re awake.”
How observant of him.
“Am I? I’m hoping this is a nightmare,” she answered sourly.
“Sav, it could have been a far worse nightmare.” Krista said softly.
Connor turned. “Thanks so much Krista, you’re probably keen to get home and get some decent sleep. I think it’s pretty clear Savannah’s back to her bristly self and able to handle things on her own.”
Krista’s eyes widened but she nodded. “Sure.” But then she leaned past him to look into Savannah’s face with a bright smile. “You need anything, you text me.” She straightened. “I mean anything. I can give you a lift—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Connor interrupted.
“Right,” Krista stepped back. “I’ve already told Luca there’s no way you’ll be working tonight.”
Savannah was still recovering from the ‘bristly-self’ comment but now she had to clamp her mouth shut with sheer willpower while trying to stretch her lips into something of a ‘thank you’ smile.
Of course she’d be working tonight. She had no freaking choice.
“Thanks Krista,” Connor took it upon himself to do the talking for her. “Can you tell Austin and Mac to come in.”
He waited ’til Krista had made it to the door before turning and looking back down at Savannah.
“How are you feeling?” he asked softly.
She couldn’t answer.
“Sugar?”
Oh that was too unfair. And he was watching her so damn intensely—like she’d turned into the Rubik’s cube conundrum of the other night again.
“I’ve had better starts to the day,” she said warily.
She’d slept with him. The guy she’d wanted to hunt out and make pay somehow. How was that possible?
“It’s not going to get much better for a few more minutes I’m afraid,” he said. “There are a couple of people who’d like to talk to you.” He turned, waved in the two men now lingering just inside the doorway.
“This is Austin,” he gestured to the man in the white Summerhill tee. “Resident doctor. And this is Mac, our local Sheriff.”
“I need to talk to you, if you’re feeling up to it, Ms Nash,” the officer stepped forward.
Savannah eyed the notebook the guy already had open and then turned to Connor. “What the hell is happening?”
“You’ve been unwell.” The doctor answered. “You lost consciousness last night and the Sheriff here is interested in finding out why.”
“Lost consciousness? At work?” Savannah’s mouth dried even more. “But…” Hell, did they think she’d gotten drunk and passed out or something? “I don’t understand, I don’t drink on the job. Only water.”
“No,” Austin smiled reassuringly. “It wasn’t anything you did. I’m afraid it seems you were given something. Some kind of drug.”
Savannah’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t help glancing at Connor. He was standing at the foot of the bed, glaring grimly at the edge of the blanket.
“You remember being at the bar?” The Sheriff asked.
Slowly she nodded. “Sure. I’d started the evening shift.”
“After working the lunch shift,” Connor interjected with an ominous note in his voice.
“Yes,” she lifted her chin and refused to look at him again. Some people had to work hard for a living. “It was busy. I remember there were a lot of people. A lot of the usual customers…” she trailed off.
“What else do you remember?” The sheriff prompted gently.
“Making cocktails. And feeling hot.”
“Did you have anything to drink?”
“Only from my water bottle. Only water.”
“Do you know where that bottle is now?”
She shook her head again. “It’s green. Neon. Hard to miss.”
“And you always drink from that bottle?”
She looked down at the needle in the back of her hand and nodded, feeling sick. Feeling scared. But damned if she was going to show it.
“I put the needle in, in case I needed to put you on a drip,” the doctor explained quietly. “But it wasn’t necessary. You were sick a couple times, but didn’t get too dehydrated. If you keep up your fluids today you’ll start to feel better.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve taken a blood sample already, but I’ll need you to sign a couple of forms.”
“Of course.” She’d been sick? So that’d be why there was a towel beside her pillow. Why there was a bowl. Why she’d been lying on her side.
The horror of it all made her want to be sick again now. She swallowed rapidly. Enough humiliation, right?
“I’ll take that out for you now, if you’d like?” Austin gestured towards her hand.
“Thanks.”
“I understand you’ve moved only recently to Summerhill, but is there a
nyone you can think of who might want to cause you harm Ms Nash?” The officer started the scary questions again.
Involuntarily her gaze flew to Connor’s. Jerk. Double Jerk. Ultimate Jerk-Off. She knew Connor remembered their harassing words. They’d been at the bar again last night. And they were total assholes… but, surely not. They wouldn’t be that stupid, would they?
“I don’t know anyone who’d want to bother,” she said lamely.
Connor’s frown was instant.
“You’re sure?” The officer asked.
“I really don’t know anyone in this town other than my work colleagues.” She glanced down as Austin deftly removed the needle and quickly applied a Band-aid.
“No ex-boyfriend who’d come after you? You’ve had no issues with stalkers in the past?”
She almost laughed. She’d had three years worth of bullying to see out her school days, but then she’d buried herself at her father’s struggling hotel. She’d been out of her school acquaintances sight for so long, she knew she was out of their minds. And her one serious ex had hit the road as soon as he’d realized the extent of her father’s problems. He was never going to turn stalker.
“No,” she answered. “I can’t think of anyone.”
The officer nodded. “We’ve already reviewed the security footage from the cameras in the bar, but for a few moments both cameras that were focused on where your bottle was, were obscured.” He frowned at his notes. “And your water bottle is now nowhere to be found. Though we do,” he paused and glanced over at Connor. “Have a couple of leads.”
“You do?”
“We’ll be following them up.” He flipped his notebook shut and nodded at the doctor, then Connor.