Page 51 of From the Darkness

Still as a statue, he watched her lock the door behind her, then drag over a chair and tip it under the doorknob.

Probably her eyes hadn’t quite adjusted to the dark. But he had no such problem. Silently, he followed her progress as she crossed the rug and stepped into the bedroom.

The moment she’d entered his territory, he’d sensed a kind of humming in the air, a physical vibration that he recognized as the charged energy he’d felt when she stepped into the grove of trees.

Did she sense it, too? Was that why she suddenly hesitated—lifting her head and looking around like an animal smelling danger on the wind.

He knew the exact moment when her questing gaze found him standing in the corner.

Always before he’d stood behind her. Or come to her in the dark. This time was different. She could see him. And he felt her regard like a jolt of electricity.

For charged moments, there was only the humming in the air. Then he heard a small, throat-clearing noise from her. When she spoke, he knew she was trying to control her voice. Still, it came out high and quavery.

“Troy! Your face. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“That’s right.”

“Then why. .?” She stopped in mid-sentence and changed the question. “What are you doing—standing there like a cat burglar? Trying to take a couple of months off my life?”

He liked the defiance in her voice, defiance that masked the undercurrent of anxiety.

“I’m being cautious. The way you are.” He gestured toward the lamp. “But you didn’t bring one of my best pieces of crystal to attack me, did you?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t you put it down?”

She shifted her gaze to the makeshift weapon in her hand, then gave a small shrug and set it on the floor, against the wall.

“Thank you for coming up here. That was brave of you.”

“Brave!” She snorted. “I’m not brave. I’m being prudent. Someone was in my . . . my room while I was taking a shower. Was it you?”

He hesitated for a moment, considering a lie. Yet he had vowed to be honest with her—as honest as he could be. He gave a small shrug. “Yes. Too bad the shower curtain is only translucent.”

He saw her cheeks redden, liking the effect. She was so vital. So alive. He’d been dead inside until she’d arrived at Ravencrest. And she had worked her unconscious magic on him.

“Living alone hasn’t done much for your manners. Don’t you know it’s not nice to sneak into a woman’s bathroom?”

“I couldn’t resist you,” he said simply. “You draw me to you.”

“And you wanted me to come up here—after you got a good look at me.”

He chose to focus on the first part. “Yes. And you felt me calling you?”

She didn’t answer the question. “You could have helped me out with the computer password,” she said instead.

He thought about that, trying not to let his frustration take him over. Sometimes he felt strong—powerful. But it didn’t take much to knock that confidence out from under him. It was several seconds before he answered. “I don’t know the password.”

“You forgot it?”

“Yes. No. I don’t remember,” he growled.

She might have pushed him on that. She’d pushed him before. Demanding answers that he couldn’t or didn’t want to give. But he didn’t allow her a chance.

He knew how to keep her from digging too deeply. He knew her vulnerabilities. And his own.

Slowly, he crossed the room, watching her—giving her a chance to back away from him because deep in his heart he knew that asking anything from her that she didn’t want to freely give was the worst kind of betrayal.

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