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freely down her cheeks anyway.

Chapter Four
     
    Trent walked back toward the bar where he had left his bike
the night before, channeling his anger into his steps. He had gone several
blocks before he realized he hadn’t had a woman get to him like this since…
Well, never. No woman had ever gotten under his skin so effectively in so short
a time. He lived by the love-’em-and-leave-’em policy, rarely ever spending
more than one night with a woman.
    She was gorgeous, no doubt about that, and she had a body
that was made for loving. Her hair was a glorious mass that drew him like a
moth to a flame. It was an unusual color, a color he had only seen on one other
person in his life. His grandmother’s best friend, Eleanor.
    He stopped dead in his tracks as childhood memories came to
him, rolling over each other and exploding behind his eyes. Lost memories of
spending weekends with his grandmother and Eleanor, of helping in the garden
and playing in the woods behind the house, of the conversations between them
that would suddenly die when he came within earshot.
    Then other things came to him, such as how his granny opened
doors with her hands full without touching them. The television switching off
when she deemed it time for him to sleep, even if she had been in the other
room. He never thought those things had been odd, they had just been normal.
How could he have forgotten?
    Eleanor had been his granny’s closest friend for as long as
he could remember. Granny had written him when Eleanor had died last year but
he had been away on an assignment and couldn’t make the funeral. But her hair
had been the same flaming red as Fiona’s. Add to that her little trick this
morning in the kitchen and he figured there had to be a connection.
    He wasn’t sure what he was going to do about it but first
things first, he needed to talk to his granny. Pulling out his cell phone, he
dialed her number and waited while it only rang half a ring before it was
answered.
    “Trent, dear, how are you?” Her voice hadn’t changed at all
and he smiled.
    “I’m fine, Granny, how are you?”
    “I’m wonderful, but don’t bother with the small talk. Go
ahead with your questions.”
    He was silent for a moment. Her uncanny knack to get right
to the heart of the matter had always been brushed aside by his family. They
all thought her to be a little off her rocker. But that was why he loved her
so. She didn’t care what others thought and had always walked her own path. She
had inspired him to do the same.
    “I’m not sure where to begin.”
    “You’ve met her, haven’t you?” The question was quiet.
    “Who?” She couldn’t possibly be talking about Fiona.
    He heard a deep sigh on the other end. “I think it’s time that
we had a little talk, Trent, when can you come?”
    Since he didn’t have a job and had just planned on going
home, there was no time like the present. “Today, I’m on my way.”
    “I’ll be waiting.” She disconnected first and a sense of
foreboding stole over him. What had that been about? Now he had more questions
instead of answers and he wasn’t going to just let it ride. Jogging the rest of
the way to the bar, he got on his custom-made dark-blue-and-chrome motorcycle
and headed for his granny’s.
    As soon as the engine roared to life he felt better. It was
always like that with his bike. It was his favorite possession and the one he
had no problem lavishing time and money on. The motorcycle was reliable and
never caused him to have confusing thoughts, unlike a certain redhead who had
come slamming into his life.
    * * * * *
    Fiona spent the rest of the day telling herself it was silly
to be so upset over a man whom she had only known for the span of twelve hours.
But no matter how much she wanted to believe it, it wasn’t true. It had hurt to
send him on his way.
    Suddenly the house was too quiet and she roamed around
restlessly. With nothing better to do and her mind pleading for something to
keep