Читать книгу The Firstborn - Dani Sinclair - Страница 13

Almost home.

Hayley Thomas suppressed a shudder. Heartskeep hadn’t been home since the day her mother disappeared more than seven years ago. The sprawling estate along the Hudson River was the envy of many, but only because it appeared so rich and serene on the surface.

The canopy of tree limbs overhead darkened the final road home, matching her mood as she sped through the sleepy hamlet of Stony Ridge, New York. As she plunged deeper into horse country, the scenery changed yet again, to velvety green fields basking in the fading sun. The unusually intense heat wave of early June hadn’t yet taken its toll, but soon enough the lush green would turn a scorched golden-brown.

Rolling her head to stretch the kinks from her neck and shoulders, Hayley was relieved to finally come upon the lane leading to Heartskeep until she turned into the wide-mouthed entrance. She braked the car to a jarring halt.

What had he done?

Hayley tried to still the clamor of her heart as she stepped from the idling car and stared in disbelief. Towering brick pillars had replaced the shorter, crumbling ones on which two stone lions had perched, standing guard for more than sixty years. Spanning the new pillars was an intricately worked, yet formidable wrought-iron gate, closed against intruders.

Marcus didn’t really believe he could bar her from her own family home with a metal gate. Did he?

Shaking in outrage, Hayley strode up to the wrought-iron fixture. Both the art major and the business major in her appreciated the fascinating piece. Another time, she would have enjoyed examining the artistry and craftsmanship that had gone into creating this incredible gate. The work was like nothing she’d seen before. But now, its unexpected presence caused a surge of pure anger.

What had Marcus done with her lions?

He had no right!

Hayley rattled the gate in a rare explosion of temper. Only then did she realize it wasn’t locked. With effort, the bar that held the massive gates closed could be lifted and slid aside from where she stood. Still, she pulsed with anger as the gates swung open smoothly. She was not a child anymore. She would not let her own father intimidate her by putting a gate in front of her house.

Darn it, Marcus was the outsider here at Heartskeep, and it was definitely past time to tell him so. Out of respect for her mother, Hayley had never challenged his right to live here. Not even when he’d remarried. But this was going too far. This gate was a deliberate slap in her face. He was staking his claim and daring her to take exception.

Fine. She would accept his challenge, and she’d be the one to come out the winner. According to the law, Heartskeep belonged to her. Removing the gate and reinstalling her stone lions had just become her first priority when she assumed control of the estate.

The small car bounced hard as she drove recklessly up the tree-lined driveway. If Marcus had finally felt a compulsion to do something around the estate, why hadn’t he started by making some badly needed repairs? This driveway was a disgrace. The ruts were deeper and more numerous than she remembered from her last visit. Hayley hoped she didn’t break an axle or some other essential item on the car, even as she pushed the compact relentlessly over the pitted surface. She was anxious now for the confrontation to come.

She’d spent most of her life treading warily around the man who was her biological father. She and her twin sister had learned early to stay out of his way. While she couldn’t remember when they had started actually calling him Marcus out loud, he had never been anything else in their thoughts.

The sight of the sprawling brick mansion never failed to surprise her as she rounded the last curve. It did even more so tonight as the house appeared, starkly forlorn, silhouetted against the rapidly darkening sky. Had it always looked so eerie?

Hayley shook her head. Once, Heartskeep had been a welcome haven. The past seven years had changed all that. And tonight there wasn’t even a welcoming glimmer of light. The structure looked like an abandoned movie set for a slasher film.

“Great. Psyche yourself into a case of nerves, why don’t you?” she muttered.

But it was true. The happy memories the house had once evoked were long gone. They’d disappeared along with her mother.

Hayley and Leigh had been back to Heartskeep only a handful of times since the two of them had started at Wellesley College. The visits had never been pleasant so they’d been careful to keep their stays as brief as possible.

How dare he remove her lions?

Heartskeep and everything connected with the estate belonged to Hayley and Leigh, not Marcus Thomas. As her mother’s firstborn child, ownership of the house and grounds would revert to Hayley when she turned twenty-five next year. Didn’t Marcus know that?

Of course he did. Wasn’t that why he’d put up the gate? She’d known Marcus and his wife, Eden, would not be happy to see her, but Hayley hadn’t anticipated anything like this.

Despite this new provocation, she had no real intention of turning them out. She might not like Marcus, but the blood relationship existed, and she would acknowledge and respect that fact, as her mother had done. However, Marcus would have to come to terms with Hayley’s ownership of the estate. He was not master here any longer even if she wasn’t twenty-five yet. She was no longer a minor under his jurisdiction.

Of course, she’d feel a lot braver with Leigh at her side. The deep bond between them had been forged at conception. But Hayley had wanted to spare her twin the coming unpleasantness.

Too bad she hadn’t realized just how unpleasant things were going to be. Still, she wouldn’t have asked Leigh to cut short her visit with her friends in England. Hayley could take the brunt of Marcus’s anger. After all, there was nothing he could do to alter the situation.

Unless he made her disappear, as he had her mother.

Hayley tossed aside that morbid thought and tried to concentrate on missing the worst of the ruts. No one had ever been able to prove Marcus had had anything to do with their mother’s disappearance, no matter what Hayley and Leigh believed. Not that the local police had tried all that hard.

Hayley bypassed the wide, sweeping circle in front of the house and drove around to the back entrance she generally used. She suppressed a shiver. The truth was, she was secretly afraid of Marcus. She always had been. While her grandfather was alive, Marcus hadn’t mattered. Her grandfather had taken on the paternal role, since Marcus ignored his daughters most of the time. That had suited everyone just fine. In the beginning, their mother had tried to make excuses for his indifference, but it wasn’t long before she’d stopped trying.

Shortly after her eleventh birthday, Hayley had gone looking for her birth certificate, convinced Marcus couldn’t really be her father. She had cried uncontrollably after discovering the document said otherwise.

How could a real father be so cold? He was a doctor, of all things. And not just any doctor, a gynecologist and obstetrician for a very select clientele. No one had ever been able to explain his indifference to his own family. Hayley and Leigh had learned to accept the situation. They’d lived with their parents and grandfather on the vast estate for most of their lives, but they often had gone days at a time without seeing Marcus.

Hayley knew Dennison Hart had shared their dislike of Marcus, though he’d never said a critical word in their hearing. He’d even had the front wing of the house remodeled into an office for his son-in-law, after Marcus complained about his long commute to work. Leigh surmised it was her grandfather’s way of keeping Marcus from moving his family away from Heartskeep. Hayley thought her sister probably had it right.

Everything had changed when their grandfather died without warning one night. The vast estate seemed to shrink. Teenagers by then, she and Leigh had frequently heard Marcus ranting at their mother. They’d worked harder than ever to stay out of his way, but they couldn’t help wishing their mother would toss him out and file for divorce.

Instead, it was Amy Thomas who’d gone away. A few months after her father’s death, their mother took a sudden, inexplicable trip to New York City and vanished without a trace. Hayley and Leigh knew something awful had happened when she didn’t call home to check in with them after the first night.

Valet parking at Amy’s hotel said they’d retrieved her car for her early the morning after she arrived. Neither she nor the car was ever seen again. Though she’d left her luggage at the hotel, Hayley and Leigh had both known their mother wasn’t ever coming back to claim it.

The depressing memory of that time accompanied Hayley to the kitchen door—a door now covered by another intricately detailed wrought-iron grill. The door was locked.

Trembling with anger, Hayley pressed the bell, holding it in place. There was no sound from within. Where were Mrs. Walsh and Kathy? The housekeeper and her daughter had rooms right off the kitchen. They rarely went out in the evening.

Puzzled, and more than a little uneasy, Hayley took a step back to survey the house in the rapidly fading twilight. Every ground floor window now sported wrought-iron grillwork. Outrage mingled with fear. What was going on? Bars on the doors and windows? Was Marcus preparing for a siege?

Hayley turned toward the converted garage, which had once been a stable. Perhaps a look around inside would tell her something. She was halfway to the building when a light flickering through the trees caught her attention. Was that a fire?

Dropping her overnight case, she broke into a run, only slowing when she realized the glow was growing brighter, but not larger. A strange, rhythmic hammering sound, carried by the wind, had her edging forward more cautiously. Just short of the clearing she paused.

The original Heartskeep had been built in the eighteen hundreds. A fire had destroyed the main house at the turn of the century, and the current mansion had been erected in its place. Some of the barns and outbuildings were still originals. They included an old forge that hadn’t been used in living memory—until now.

The door gaped open, allowing Hayley to see that it wasn’t actually being used now, either. The glow was coming from a large, portable forge standing beyond the building. A man bent over the intense heat of a fire, fueled by a massive propane tank. His features were in profile, his face etched with lines made harsh by the glow of his fire. Hair curled around his neck, thick and dark at the edges where moisture had dampened the strands. A sheen of sweat beaded his arms and plastered the dirty white, sleeveless T-shirt to his formidable chest. Stained jeans encased his lean hips. He was a large man, tall and well muscled. The sort of muscles that came from physical labor rather than a gym.

One of his large hands was covered by a thick, heavy glove holding what appeared to be some sort of tongs. He drew a glowing metal rod from the heart of the fire and set it to one side on a mounted anvil. The bare hand wielded an incredibly heavy-looking hammer, making the large tattoo on his upper arm flex and writhe. Transfixed, Hayley watched the intensity of his expression as he pounded away at the glowing length of metal, twisting and shaping it with undeniable skill.

There was something disturbingly sensual about the stranger and his actions. At the same time, he appeared almost sinister in his single-minded devotion to his craft, as if he was chained there by the fire and his work, pounding away at some inner demon only he could see.

Hayley found herself moving stealthily closer, drawn by the rhythmic force of his blows, awed by the beauty they were creating. He thrust the rod back into the flames once more. She moved even closer, determined to see what he was crafting with such intensity.

She was certain she hadn’t made a sound, but without warning, he turned. The white-hot piece of metal waved only inches from her face. Hayley froze, unable to utter a sound. She felt as if that glowing tip had actually branded her flesh.

“Who the devil are you?” he demanded gruffly, using the hammer to push back his protective goggles and survey her. The disturbing heat of his gaze seemed far hotter than his fire, but at least it broke the spell holding her mute.

Hayley exhaled and raised her chin. “I’d be careful calling on the devil if I were you. You already look like you’re standing over the fires of hell.”

The man blinked in surprise. The corners of his lips darted upward for just a second, but the hint of a smile disappeared before it could form fully and the somber, dark mask settled back over his features.

“A good reason for you to run away, little girl.”

A strange tingle traveled straight up her spine. His voice was as deep and soft as crushed velvet. He rocked back on his heels, surveying her in a blatant challenge she couldn’t ignore.

“Personally, I prefer aerobics to running. I also prefer petite to little. And I haven’t been a girl for a number of years.”

The momentary softening of his mouth hinted at more amusement, quickly hidden. “Yeah? How many?”

She should have been nervous. At the very least, she told herself, she should be cautious. Yet somehow she sensed no real menace from the man, despite his brooding looks. Instead, she sensed an aura of sadness about him that immediately stirred her curiosity.

“I’m old enough to know you’re trespassing on private property.” She forced herself to respond lightly.

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh. Want to put your weapons down, or do you think you’ll need a hammer and a poker to ward me off?”

A grin slid across his features so fast she couldn’t be sure she’d actually seen one. He set the hammer aside with deliberate care. The glowing metal hissed loudly, sending a vapor stream into the darkness of the night as he plunged the object into a large tin of water.

“I’ll risk it,” he told her.

“So, who are you? What are you doing here?”

“I don’t think you’re the one who should be asking the questions. I was hired to be here. What about you?”

Anger washed over her. “Marcus,” she cursed.

“I gather you know the owner?” he questioned.

“You’re looking at the owner.”

Slowly, he began tugging off his gloves, but not before she had the satisfaction of seeing his surprise.

“A little young, aren’t you?”

“You seem fascinated by my age.”

He watched her, his face mostly in shadow now, giving him an even darker, more brooding appearance.

“You’re a fascinating person,” he told her softly.

Her breath caught in her throat. A current of awareness arced between them. Disconcerted, she shook her head against the powerful impact he seemed to be having on her senses. Not all the heat seemed to be coming from the forge.

“Look, it’s getting late and I’ve just had a tiring drive,” she said quickly. “Is Marcus home?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“Okay. Then do you have a key to get past that fancy gate you put over my back door?”

“Your door,” he said mildly, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of those closely fitted jeans.

“Yes, my door. The name is Hayley Hart Thomas. As of two weeks ago, Heartskeep in its entirety belongs to me and my sister.”

It was only a slight exaggeration. Two weeks ago their mother had been officially declared dead. There was no other living person with any legal right to lay claim to the estate.

The blacksmith regarded her steadily while seconds ticked silently past. Full dark descended. The waves of heat emanating from the fire seemed to fill the night, blocking normal sounds. She gave a small start when he finally spoke again. This time, his voice was bare of inflection.

“No keys, Ms. Thomas. You’ll have to take that up with Mr. Thomas.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I intend to.” Bitterly she decided she might have to call the police after all. “Sorry I disturbed you.” Gathering her anger like a cloak, she spun around. After taking two steps, she paused to look over her shoulder. The stranger hadn’t moved.

“And I want my lions back.”

His eyebrows raised at her demand.

“Do you mean the old stone lions that used to be at the main entrance? Mr. Thomas wanted them destroyed—”

“You didn’t!”

“No, actually I didn’t. I had them taken to my shop.”

Relief swelled inside her. He still had her lions. “Where is that?”

“Tucked up in the hills about an hour’s drive northwest of here. I doubt you’ve ever heard of the place. Murett Township doesn’t appear on most maps.”

He was right. She’d never heard of it. “I want them replaced the way they were. Excuse me while I go have a nice long chat with my father. Have a good evening, Mr.—”

“Myers,” he supplied. “Bram Myers.”

“Well, Mr. Myers, it was interesting talking with you. You’ll have to forgive me for running off, but it looks like I need to drive a car through one of your clever gates to get inside my own house.”

He rocked back on his heels. Once again she sensed an underlying amusement. “Now why do I think you’re ready to do exactly that?”

“Good instincts?”

“Try the front door,” he suggested softly. “I haven’t completed the design for that gate.”

Hayley hesitated. “I will. And Mr. Myers, I wouldn’t waste time creating any more gates or bars for Heartskeep if I were you.”

Hayley plunged back down the pitch dark path toward the house. She didn’t dare look back. Bram Myers was entirely too disconcerting for comfort. She had never seen a sexier man in all her life. Too bad she was going to have to fire him in the morning.

She wished there was a moon overhead as she made her way cautiously around the house to the front door. Curiously, she didn’t even need her key. The tarnished brass knob twisted easily beneath her fingers. The door swung wide, revealing a black, cavernous interior that was far from inviting. Hayley could barely see to step over the threshold. She searched along the wall for the remembered light switch, relieved when her fingers closed over it. But nothing happened.

A large chandelier hung over the foyer. One bulb might be burned out, but not all of them. Obviously, the electricity wasn’t working again. The house had an empty, deserted feeling. Where was everyone?

“Hello? Is anyone here?”

Her voice seemed to echo hollowly.

Straight ahead, the formal grand staircase rose imperiously to the second floor. Beyond it was the incredibly large, one-of-a-kind living room. On her right was the library, and to her left, the narrow, formal parlor her grandfather had converted into a waiting room for Marcus’s patients.

Hayley knew a moment of shock when she sensed the door to that parlor standing wide open. Except during office hours, Marcus always kept that door closed and locked.

Despite her unease, she was drawn to the opening. She set down her case and crossed to the entrance, stepping warily inside. The bank of windows on her left was covered by thick, heavy drapes, so there wasn’t even a faint trace of light in the waiting room.

“Hello? Is anyone home?”

A whisper of sound slithered to life from somewhere inside. Common sense told her to leave. Fear told her to run. Sternly, Hayley told herself she wasn’t a child. This was her home. She had nothing to fear here.

“Hello?”

Shoving back a long tendril of hair that had worked its way loose from her ponytail, she stepped into the dark recess of the room.

“Is someone in here?”

No one answered, but there was a definite slither of sound that sent prickles of alarm straight up her spine. It was impossible to pinpoint the source of the noise, yet she sensed someone standing nearby. Someone who obviously didn’t intend to make his or her presence known.

As Hayley stepped forward cautiously, her leg made unexpected contact with a hard object. Her fingers identified the reception desk, even as her eyes strained to pierce the uncanny blackness of the room. Visions from every horror movie she had ever seen rushed to paint images in her mind. There was a feeling of wrongness in here that was almost physical.

A disturbing chill suddenly brushed her skin. Hayley sensed rather than saw a movement in the ominous well of blackness pooled at the opening that had once led into the formal ballroom. The heavy door now led to the corridor her grandfather had created when he’d converted a portion of the ballroom into a bathroom, laboratory and exam rooms for Marcus. The narrow hall ended at an office.

Hayley held her breath. She felt sure someone stood in that pocket of shadow, silently watching her. The sense of menace seemed to swell until she turned and bolted back into the hall.

She noticed the tall, looming shape too late to avoid a collision.

A scream tore from the depths of her soul. Hands closed roughly around her shoulders. Even as dry-mouthed fear enveloped her, she instinctively lashed out with her foot. There was a soft grunt of pain as she connected with a shin. Her attacker released her.

“Take it easy, will you? I’m not going to hurt you.”

A core of remaining sanity placed the voice. A powerful shaft of light emerged from a flashlight in his hand. She was momentarily blinded by the beam before he aimed it away from her face. His harsh features wavered into view.

“Sorry if I startled you,” Bram Myers said quietly.

“Startled?” Her heart raced as if she’d run a mile. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“That would have been a real shame. Not to mention a spectacular problem.”

His wry humor steadied her frazzled nerves. “What are you doing in here?”

“I came to be sure you hadn’t driven your car through a door like you threatened.”

“Very funny.” She couldn’t stop trembling. It had been such a long day, and he was standing too near.

“What happened to the lights?”

“They aren’t working,” she bit out.

“I noticed.” He swung the beam so it spanned the empty hall, causing shadows to leap and writhe. “Are you all right? You’re shaking.”

“Of course I’m shaking. You scared the heck out of me.”

“The way you came bursting out of that room, I have a feeling I’m not the only thing that scared you.”

Flustered, she struggled for a composure she was far from feeling. “There’s someone in there. Whoever it is wouldn’t answer when I called out.”

He tensed. “Wait here.”

Before she could stop him, Bram strode through the opening. Hayley followed on his heels, secretly relieved by his reassuring presence. His flashlight brought the dark room to spooky life. The drapes were of thick, heavy damask. Empty chairs sat in a line in front of them.

“Inviting. I hope you’re planning on having a decorator come in,” he said mildly.

“Cute.”

The beam of light swept behind the desk to reveal the heavy, dark wood double doors that led back to Marcus’s lair. They were closed, sealing off the converted rooms. Her stomach lurched.

“One of those doors was open a second ago,” she whispered.

Bram spared her a look. Crossing to them, he reached for the knob. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

He rattled the handle. “It’s locked now. Want me to break it open?”

Yes, she wanted to shout, but she couldn’t push the word past lips that felt numb. Someone had stood in that doorway only a minute ago. She was sure of it.

“I can force it open if you want me to, but are you sure it wasn’t your imagination playing tricks? It would certainly be understandable. Without light, this room is as dark as the inside of a coffin.”

To prove his point, he shut off the flashlight, plunging them into a total void. Hayley stifled a gasp. Bram went on talking.

“I’m standing right here and I can’t even see the doors, much less tell if they’re open or closed. It would be a shame to kick them in if you’re wrong. They don’t make interior doors of solid cherry anymore.”

Had the door been open? Was it possible her imagination had taken over? It had been a long day, after all. Hayley was tired from the drive and stressed by what she’d found here—to say nothing of how furious Marcus would be if she damaged something.

Why was she worried about that? This was her house, a tiny voice shouted inside her head. Still, she hesitated. Could she have been wrong?

“What happened to the electricity?” Bram asked abruptly. He snapped the flashlight back on, to her intense relief.

“I don’t know.” She cursed the quaver in her voice, but she couldn’t even control the shakes that rippled through her body. “Don’t you sense it?” she whispered before she could stop herself.

He regarded her steadily. “Sense what?”

The wrongness, she wanted to shout. Instead, she shook her head. “Never mind. The house feels…empty.”

“You just said someone was in here.”

“Forget it.” Thoroughly embarrassed, she turned back to the main hall.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I think we ought to see if we can get some lights on. Do you know where the fuse box is?”

Gratefully, she nodded. “There’s one in the kitchen, inside the pantry.”

“Show me?”

He moved to within inches of where she stood. She’d known he was a big man, but having him this close made her feel small and fragile.

“Don’t patronize me,” she warned him.

“That wasn’t my intention. Would you prefer I leave?”

“No! No,” she said more calmly, drawing a deep breath. “I’m a little rattled. I don’t understand what’s going on here, either. Where is everyone? Mrs. Walsh? Kathy? Someone should be here. Someone must be here. The front door was unlocked.”

“It was?” He appeared mildly surprised.

“Yes!”

He held up a palm. “Okay, take it easy. Are you always this defensive?”

“Only since—” Since she’d gotten the lawyer’s letter, requesting that she come home to discuss a problem. Hayley could hardly say that to a total stranger. “Since I got here and found everything changed.”

“I can see where that might be unnerving. I’m afraid I haven’t spoken with anyone in a couple of days now. I’ve been staying in the old barn by the forge while I complete the work your father hired me to do. I’m afraid I don’t know any of the people you just mentioned. I’ve only spoken with your parents since I got here.”

“My father and his wife,” she corrected. Then, not wanting to explain, and disconcerted from standing this close to him, she turned away. “The kitchen’s back this way.”

His light swept the hall ahead of them as she set off quickly. She wondered if he’d ever been inside the sprawling mansion before, and if he had, what he’d thought of the incredible rooms that stretched up to the huge skylights. Normally, moonlight would have made the interior clearly visible, but tonight clouds blocked the light and the house felt like some vast, empty cavern.

“Was your father expecting you?” Bram asked.

“I didn’t call to tell him I was on my way home, if that’s what you mean.”

Bram didn’t respond. If he was wondering about her relationship with Marcus, he didn’t ask. In fact, now that she thought about it, she was a little surprised he hadn’t demanded some sort of proof of her identity. She could have been lying. On the other hand, it wasn’t his job to protect Heartskeep—except by covering all the openings with metal grillwork. She should be grateful for his presence, or at least for the presence of his flashlight. And she was—it was just that she was having a strange reaction to being this close to him.

The kitchen was a dark, silent shell. The light switch clicked uselessly. “The pantry is right over there,” she told him, pointing to the closed door.

Funny. Growing up here she’d never viewed all this heavy, dark wood paneling as gloomy. The house had seemed a warm, comforting haven in her childhood. The feeling was gone now, just like her mother and grandfather.

Bram opened the pantry door and stepped inside. “Big place,” was his only comment.

Hayley couldn’t argue. The house was enormous. Rooms, closets—every aspect of the house was large. She watched as he studied the electric panel for a moment. Finally he flipped a large breaker. Nothing happened.

“Power lines must be down.”

“That happens when it storms, but it’s not storming tonight,” she pointed out. “At least, not yet.”

“No,” he agreed, “but a car could have taken down a utility pole or something. Maybe that’s why everyone is gone. Not exactly what you’d call a cozy place without lights. Have you got another place to stay for the night?”

Situated high above the Hudson River, northeast of Saratoga Springs, Heartskeep was a good distance from its closest neighbor and the small town of Stony Ridge. There were neighbors she could call, but Hayley hated the idea of imposing on people she hadn’t seen in years.

“Not really, but it isn’t as if I’ll freeze or something without electricity. I can always light some candles.”

“You plan to stay here alone? I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

Neither did she.

“What if someone else is in the house with you?”

“I prefer not to think about that.” Fear crawled around in the pit of her stomach. He was right. she had a decent imagination, but she was pretty sure she hadn’t imagined someone else standing out of sight inside the parlor.

“Have you eaten?”

Startled, she focused on Bram. “What?”

“I haven’t eaten dinner yet and I have a steak big enough for two. You’d be welcome to join me.”

“You cook?” She stalled, trying to picture herself sitting across a table from him, sharing a meal.

His eyes seemed to glitter. “Why don’t you be the judge?”

“No power, remember?”

“I’ve got a hot forge.”

“You cook at your forge?”

His teeth glinted as he smiled. A thrill shot through her. She had the distinct impression that smiles were a rare thing with this man. And the one that creased his face now was every bit as appealing as the man himself.

“I have a smaller tank of propane and a camp stove with me. Hungry?”

The pretzels she’d eaten on the drive from the Boston apartment she shared with her sister suddenly seemed less substantial than they had several hours ago.

“Yes, actually, I think I am. If you’ll shine that light over there, I can supply the wine.” His flashlight picked up the built-in wine rack. “I’m not much of a drinker, so I don’t know much about wines,” she confessed. “Do you want to choose something?”

He reached past her with one well-muscled arm. She found herself fascinated by the tattoo on his upper arm as he selected a bottle without hesitating.

“Is that a dragon?”

“Yes. Corkscrew?”

Hayley wondered if the question had bothered him. He didn’t look upset, but then she knew absolutely nothing about the man calling himself Bram Myers. Nothing except the fact that she was strangely drawn to him. Even as she found a corkscrew and followed him back through the house, she wondered if she was making a serious mistake. He paused to scoop up the overnight bag she’d left inside the front door.

“Just in case,” he told her.

“In case what?” she asked nervously.

“In case there really is someone running around in here.”

“Oh.”

They stepped outside and he waited while she forced her key into the stiff lock on the front door.

“At least he didn’t change this lock,” she muttered. “Do you think I should call the police?” How strange that she hadn’t even thought of that until now.

“Up to you. It’s your house, Ms. Thomas.”

“Hayley.”

He inclined his head. “Nice name.”

“Thank you.” She felt disconcerted once again.

“One problem with calling the police is that it will require more than a single officer to search a house this size. By the time a responding officer sends for enough backup to do a thorough job, anyone inside would have slipped away.”

“True,” she agreed, not certain the police would respond if she did call them. “But if someone is in here, they could do all sorts of damage, not to mention help themselves to any number of valuable items.”

The adrenaline rush was fading fast and so was she. Following this man back under the dense canopy of trees no longer seemed like such a good idea.

“Suit yourself,” he said. “You can stay here if you like, but I’m going back to have dinner.”

She followed him off the porch onto the thick carpet of grass. Nervously, she cast a look over her shoulder. A movement caught her eye. She was almost certain a curtain had twitched in one of the parlor windows.