She wanted to slide away, to find some privacy on the other side of the bed because she felt certain his not saying it meant he didn’t feel it. As she was preparing to do so, Bran delicately walked up the length of them, zig zagging across their bodies, his little kitty feet remarkably weighty. The cat jumped to the small of her back and curled there, his warm, furry body keeping her imprisoned in Colin’s arm.
And that was when the depth of Sibyl’s emotions and her lovemaking with Colin finally stole over her and she relaxed against him, letting sleep take her. She didn’t notice before she fell into slumber, Colin’s iron arm had not loosened.
* * * * *
Colin lay awake and stared at the dark ceiling, listening to Sibyl’s soft breathing.
Having all of Sibyl now laid bare to him and the additional gift of her love drove all ideas of peace and rest out of his mind.
Her love was by far the finest possession he owned.
And someone was trying to kill her.
He felt an insidious, hated sense of fear steal over him and realised that, above all else, he had to focus all of his considerable energy on making certain that didn’t happen.
Or die trying.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Magic Dust
Colin glanced out the rear-view mirror and saw the familiar car following them.
The car had slid out behind them when they left Lacybourne that morning, stayed with them after their brief visit for Scarlett to check Mrs. Byrne and continued behind them all the way to Heathrow.
And now, coming back to Clevedon, it was still there.
Colin could see the black hair and alabaster face behind the wheel.
Tamara Adams.
No, a clearly not very clever, in fact, enormously stupid Tamara Adams.
Colin was relatively certain it was also the car that nearly ran them down outside the restaurant.
He ground his teeth.
Sibyl had been desolate upon seeing her father and sister moving through the security area at Heathrow but Mags had swiftly cheered her spirits with chatter on the way home and for this alone, Colin was grateful for Mags’s company. Even though Sibyl and her mother had an odd relationship that was based half on exasperation, half on adoration, Mags knew exactly how to manipulate her daughter’s feelings, giving her a needed uplift.
Slowly, the BMW’s smooth ride and her interrupted sleep last night came over her and Sibyl fell asleep with her head against the window.
This, Mags (as any good mother would) noticed immediately and all chatter stopped. For fifteen minutes, Mags was surprisingly silent.
Then she asked quietly, “Who’s that following us? Do you know her?”
Startled, Colin’s eyes shot to the rear-view mirror to take in her knowing face. Mags was free-spirited and flighty but, Colin realised, she was also no fool.
“Yes,” he answered brusquely.
“Spurned lover?” Mags guessed correctly.
Colin nodded then found himself saying, “The one I was with when I met Sibyl.”
She immediately returned, “The one who was there when you met Billie?”
He nodded again marking, for future reference, how much Sibyl told her mother.
“Oh dear,” Mags sighed. “Well,” she brightened, “at least we know who and why. Now you just need to stop her.” She paused and glanced out of the window and said distractedly but with such certainty Colin was momentarily stunned, “I have every faith.”