Page 28 of From the Darkness

After a quick glance over her shoulder, she began opening other drawers. There were various papers—paid bills, junk mail that he’d shoved into a pile, a letter from a heating and cooling company asking if he wanted to keep up his extended warranty on the furnace and air conditioning system.

Despite her spoken warning, poking through Troy’s private life made her stomach knot. Still, she forced herself to continue the search.

In another drawer were directions for various appliances. And below them were several photocopied statements from a brokerage firm. The name of one company on the report caught her eye, and she drew in a quick breath. Enteck.

Troy had bought Enteck stock? She looked at the bottom line. When Troy had filed away these statements, the company had been doing well. In fact, it had been the leader in the energy field eighteen months ago. Then it had shocked the market by filing for bankruptcy. The stock was virtually worthless now. From the looks of the statement, Troy had sunk a lot of his fortune into the company.

Bree returned the papers to the drawer and rocked back in the chair.

Was that Troy’s problem? He’d made a fatal business decision. He’d lost his fortune. And now . .

Several thoughts leaped to her mind. He was hiding out from his creditors. He’d tried to recoup his losses—and gotten into even worse trouble. His financial problems had given him a nervous breakdown. Or was that just the story he’d put out—so people would leave him alone.

If only she could ask him!

“Troy!” she said in exasperation as she marched back to the bedroom.

Impulsively, she crossed the Oriental rug and eased onto the bed, staring at the quilted surface of the spread as she smoothed her hand across the blue and brown fabric.

As she sat there, the feeling of being watched was so strong that her head jerked up, and she looked quickly around.

Her gaze zinged to the closet, where the door was open a crack.

“Troy?”

He could be hiding in there, she suddenly realized. He could have been hiding and watching her all along. And Nola had said he was dangerous.

The smart thing was to get out of the room—if she believed Nola’s story. But she didn’t trust the woman, and Troy had proved himself by saving her life the first night she’d been at the estate. Troy, or someone who used the same aftershave as the man who lived in this room.

Her heart had started pounding wildly in her chest. Before she could change her mind, she stood up, recrossed the room, and pulled the closet door open.

Disappointment and relief warred within her when she saw nobody was standing by the door.

Still, it would be possible to hide in here. The closet was large and cavernous, at least ten feet by ten feet—a small bedroom in any other house. The light behind her was low, making the rows of hanging shirts and jackets dark and shadowy.

Feeling along the wall, she found the light switch and flipped it up, but nothing happened. Apparently, the bulb was burned out. Wouldn’t Troy have replaced it if he were really living in this room?

A prickle of unease made goose bumps on her arms. Behind her, in the sitting area, the music swelled, and she jumped. This time Rod Stewart was singing” Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?”

“Stop it!”

All at once, the aroma of his spicy aftershave was stronger than before, and she sensed him standing so close to her that she could reach out and touch him—if she knew where he was.

Her throat closed. Her mouth went dry. Somehow, she managed to get out one syllable. His name.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as she waited for an answer.

Eons passed before he said, “Yes. I tried to stay away from you. But I couldn’t. Not after you came up here.”

His voice was stronger than she’d heard it up till now, and a mixture of joy, relief, and fear flared in her breast.

She started to turn toward him, but he stepped quickly behind her, and his strong hands clasped her shoulders, forcing her to remain in place.

She tried to slip from his hold, but he was strong and easily kept her where she was. Her hands clenched and unclenched in frustration. “Troy, let me see you.”

“You can’t.” Again, he spoke with force.

“Did something happen to your face? Is it scarred? Is that why you’re staying out of sight? Is that why I haven’t seen you or heard from you in days?”

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