When they got to the boarding house he let her out with a tortured groan.
“It was a mistake,” he growled, burying his face in his hands, which were covered with fur, thick black claws curving out. “Bringing you there. It was a mistake.”
Chapter Eight
Ginger lay in bed, stripped naked, burning with desire and head whirling in confusion.
Did the sheriff have feelings for her?
Apparently not. Apparently he regretted his very public scene with her.
Damn it…she wanted him so badly she couldn’t even think straight. Her brain was fogged with desire.
She gripped the rubbery shaft of her vibrator, closed her eyes, and, shamefully, pictured the sheriff in her mind. It hurt to want someone who didn’t want her.
She imagined herself naked, lying on this bed. Tied down, arms and legs secured to posts. He’d be on top her, straddling her…
She pressed the vibrator against her tiny, tight opening and worked it in, moaning wordlessly as she slid it in and out. Picturing his thickness, she felt heat gather inside her again and then sweep over her, pulsing to the ends of her fingers and toes. It wasn’t the same, though; her orgasm felt dull and muted, and left her aching for the feeling of Loch’s arms crushing her against the broad wall of his chest.
That night she tossed and turned for hours, tormented by vague dreams she couldn’t remember.
The next morning, apparently everybody was out of sorts. Marigold looked tired and sulky. Brenda and Tallulah sat glaring at each other. The professor didn’t even bother to show up.
And even Winifred was unusually quiet, although Ginger caught her staring out the window at the handyman, who was outside repairing a fence. At least she wasn’t doing the pencil thing any more, and she’d unbuttoned her shirt a couple more buttons, so she was actually showing a wee bit of cleavage.
Halfway through breakfast, Brenda threw down her napkin and stood up. “I’m going to go get the professor,” she announced. “He never sleeps in like this. Maybe his alarm clock is broken.”
“No, I’ll go!” Tallulah jumped up.
The two stood there, glowering at each other.
“Oh, for God’s sake! I’ll go, because I assure you, I have no interest in the professor whatsoever.” Ginger snapped, and turned and headed up the stairs, with Brenda and Tallulah on her heels.
She knocked hard on the professor’s door. There was no answer.
“Professor! Hey, professor!” she yelled.
Still no answer.
She reached down, turned the knob and pushed the door open. She could see the professor’s bed from where she stood. The handmade quilt was tucked in, the bed was neatly made, and the professor was nowhere in sight.
“Oh my God. He never came home last night!” Tallulah gasped.
“He was at dinner. What are you talking about?” Brenda protested.
“No, last night after dinner I was in the back yard when I saw him headed out. I asked him where he was going and he said he forgot something at the dig, and he’d be back later. Something must have happened to him!”
Ginger felt uneasiness roiling in her stomach. After yesterday afternoon’s confrontation, and with the heated emotions that had been stirred up, she wouldn’t be surprised to hear that he’d come to harm. Maybe the panther shifters had come back to check the site for stolen artifacts, and he’d surprised them?
She glanced at her watch, and was surprised to see that it was quarter after 8. The sheriff had picked her up promptly at 8 a.m. the day before.
And he hadn’t called. That didn’t seem like him at all.
She felt an iciness creeping over her. Apparently, this was it. He’d briefly flirted with the idea of seducing her…and he’d found the idea unappealing.
Last night, she’d sort of let herself hope that his violent reaction at the club was jealousy. Obviously it wasn’t. Maybe it was embarrassment.
Her cheeks burned with humiliation at the thought, and she hung her head, blinking back sudden tears and turning away from Tallulah and Brenda.
Apparently not everyone in Blue Moon County was attracted to fat chicks, she thought bitterly.
Brenda put her hand on her arm. “You were in love with him, too, huh?” she said sympathetically.
“The professor? No! Absolutely not,” Ginger spluttered. Her head was whirling. She could have called the sheriff to see why he hadn’t come for her – he’d given her his cell phone number – but stubborn pride kept her from doing so.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It did nothing to diminish the dull ache that throbbed inside her chest.
Focus, she scolded herself. We’ve got a possible missing person here.
“Can one of you try to call the professor?” she said, and Tallulah and Brenda both whipped out their cell phones and dialed at the same time. Ginger rolled her eyes. Everything had to be a competition with those two.