Radborne Manor was even creepier than Alex had imagined. The three-story structure was an imposing sight with ivy clinging to its dark gray walls. Pieces of stone lay haphazardly on the ground, surrounded by shards of glass from broken windows. The bushes and trees were so overgrown that the wrought-iron gate leading to the garden was hardly discernible. No wonder it was rumored to be haunted.
Everything about the place reeked of the supernatural-right down to the large old trees that appeared to have arms for branches.
Alex shook off any misgivings and sank lower into the brush. Haunted manor or no haunted manor, she had a job to do. Having tracked Frank Consiglio, a prominent London businessman, and his much younger mistress to the abandoned manor, she had precious few minutes to take the pictures and get away before getting caught.
"All right, you cheating pig, smile for the camera," Alex whispered under her breath, focusing in on her client's husband and his bimbo secretary.
This was the part of the job Alex hated most of all-photographing the act itself. With the camera's lens resting on the windowsill, she let out a deep breath and started snapping pictures that would bring her a healthy payday.
While one roll of film instantly rewound, Alex ducked beneath the window and replaced it with another. Placing the finished roll in her pocket, she stood again, camera at the ready-to find a man staring back at her through the lens. Her heart gave a jolt. He was no more than fifteen feet from her, watching her intently.
Alex nearly dropped the camera. Sheer, pulse-pounding panic raced through her. The man who watched her was not the forty-nine year old Mr. Consiglio, but a younger man . . . maybe in his late twenties or early thirties, and strikingly handsome. His hair was long and dark, his eyes a gunmetal gray. Strangely enough he was dressed in a period costume of snug blue breeches, vest, jacket, and a white frilly shirt with billowing sleeves.
He watched her intently, and seemed to be coming toward her. . .without moving his feet. When he was a mere five feet away, the sun glinted off an object in his hand. A knife! Alex's heart skittered.
He was going to kill her. . .and she couldn't bloody move. Her mind screamed for her to run, but she didn't budge. His eyes held her trapped; mesmerized. She held her breath as he walked straight through the wall . . . and disappeared into thin air.
Alex fell to her knees, glancing over her shoulder, trying to understand what she had just witnessed.
The guy had disappeared into thin air!
Her breath caught in her throat. The blue lord-one of Radborne's rumored ghosts? Though she had never believed in the supernatural, how could she mistake the vision for anything but a ghost. . .especially when said vision walked through walls.
Alex noticed a glimmer of light beside her knee and reached for the object with trembling fingers. Recognizing the same blade the apparition had held, her stomach tightened.
Laughter from inside the manor brought her attention back to the present and the assignment at hand. She needed just one more roll and she would be on her way- far away from this creepy place.
Slipping the knife in her back pocket, she took a deep breath and tried to concentrate solely on the couple before her. Her hands were shaking so badly, she'd be lucky if one of the pictures on the roll turned out.
Deciding she had ample evidence to give her client, Alex gathered her camera bag and headed for her car, more than ready to leave Radborne Manor and its ghosts. The skies were dark and heavy with rain, and as the first drops fell, she glanced up at the swirling clouds overhead.
Never in all her twenty-seven years had she been so ready to leave a place. Fear gripped her and she started to run, until a horrible sound filled the air, stopping her dead in her tracks.
The sound came again, a blood-curdling scream that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Lightning sliced through the air. Before the light dimmed, the piercing clap of thunder followed as clouds rolled over the manor at an incredible rate of speed. Several moments passed before she dared move, let alone breathe. Rain pelted against her face, and soon her clothes lay drenched against her skin. "I did not just hear someone scream. It's only my imagination," she said, looking over her shoulder at the manor, half expecting Mr. Consiglio to be on her heels. But there was no one.
The haunting cry rang out again, somewhere from above. Alex jerked her head up as flashing light filled the air again, illuminating a dark-haired man dressed in black standing on the manor roof. Her heart skittered when a scream tore from his lungs as though he were daring the greater force to knock him down.
A second later a bright blaze struck the roof with a hiss, leaving steam in its wake. When it lifted, he was gone.
Alex stood dumbfounded, blinking repeatedly, wondering if perhaps she was losing her mind. She ran an unsteady hand down her face. The man had disappeared into thin air-she was sure of it.
Without another thought she raced for her car. Alex rounded the hedge where it was hidden-and stopped abruptly. Her heart slammed hard against her ribs. Standing in front of her Peugeot, arms crossed over his chest, was the same man who had been on the roof seconds before. She knew it was impossible for any human to move that fast, which could only mean one thing . . . he wasn't human.
He made no move toward her, but instead watched her with eyes as blue as the sky and as intense as a predator's. Her stomach tightened while taking in his handsome features: Long hair fell a few inches past his broad shoulders. His shirt clung to his powerful upper body that strained against the wet material. Her gaze shifted lower to dark pants that molded against narrow hips and muscular thighs, and a package that would make any woman smile. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she ripped her gaze back to his face to find him watching her with an intensity that made her uneasy.
Beckoning her with a raised hand, he whispered, "Come to me, Alexandria." The words were so soft she thought it might be the wind. "Alexandria," he repeated, his voice stronger, more commanding.
She gasped having clearly heard him speak her name. It was impossible! How could he know her name when she'd never even met the man?
Yet as their eyes locked, she knew there was something about him that was undeniably familiar. Before she could stop herself, she reached out to him, needing to touch him as though she was being drawn to him by a force she couldn't control.
His touch was electric despite the fact his long-fingered hand was as cold as marble. As it encompassed her own, a current moved from his fingers to hers, then up her arm, until it consumed all of her.
Alexandria smiled, remembering the gorgeous man, or ghost, she had dreamed about last night. Stretching, she opened her eyes slowly, then froze as she caught sight of a tall, broad-shouldered man standing by the window with his back to her.
Uneasiness worked its way up her spine when the man at the window slowly turned to face her. "Holy Mother of God!" The air left her lungs in a rush, as she stared straight into a pair of familiar blue eyes.
A dark brow shot up along with the curve of his lip. "I can assure you, I am not the Virgin Mary," he said in a low, steady voice.
Alex closed her eyes. When she opened them again, maybe he'd be gone.
No such luck. The man before her was none other than the one who'd taken her hand at Radborne Manor during the storm, and now he was watching her with a strange expression.
Coming to her feet, she waited expectantly for his sign of recognition, but he continued to stare. Silent seconds passed before he came toward her in long strides, his stern expression set in stone.
When he stood before her, she poked his chest with her index finger, to find that he, in fact, was real. His eyes flashed with icy contempt.
Looking past his shoulder, she caught a brief glance of an older man walking out the door. Her stomach sank when he closed it behind him with a thud. A click echoed throughout the room. Great, he'd locked it as well.
"Who are you?" the handsome man asked, his voice dangerously soft.
She frowned, clearly remembering he had called her by name earlier. "Alexandria."
The nerve ticked in his jaw. "Your given name."
"Alexandria Drake. Who are you?"
"Strathmore."
Strathmore? An odd name, but then again, should she be surprised? Anyone who ran around in seriously out-of-date pants, black knee-high boots, and a pirate shirt was bound to be a little on the bizarre side. Alex bit her lip as she looked around the unfamiliar room, searching for answers. Yet nothing in the pastel-colored parlor full of impressive furnishings and artwork supplied clues. "Where am I?" she asked, trying to make sense of how she'd gotten there.
He walked toward the window, glanced out. He had such nice broad shoulders, an incredible ass, and long, muscular legs. When he turned his attention back to her, her gaze returned to his. "I am finished playing games, Miss Drake."
Alex stared at him incredulously. "I'm playing games? You're the. ." She let the accusation die. The last time she'd seen him she had been leaving Radborne Manor. This elaborate room could not possibly be part of the creepy, abandoned manor. So.if she wasn't at Radborne Manor, then where was she? Pushing away the misgivings that threatened to control her emotions, she lifted her chin and met his stare without flinching.
There was a lethal calmness to his eyes. Try as she might, she couldn't think of a legitimate reason why she should be in this strange man's home. Unless he'd brought her here with the intention of hurting her.or worse, killing her.
A warning voice whispered in her head. What if Mr. Consiglio had seen her taking pictures and this was one of his henchmen sent to interrogate her? Her stomach clenched at the thought. Maybe she was in Consiglio's house right now! That would make it awfully convenient to dispose of her and any evidence she'd obtained.
Damn, she'd known the job was dangerous when she'd taken it. But the money had been too good to pass up.
She was in way over her head. Spying an ornate candelabra on a nearby table, Alex backed up. She would have only one chance, so she'd better make it count.
"I would not even attempt it, Miss Drake." His words were as cool and clear as ice water.
Damn it! She dropped her hand to her side and met his gaze. "All right, I needed the money. The man's a cheating pig anyway. It's not like they weren't headed for divorce court as it is."
The man frowned. "What?"
"Consiglio. Obviously that's what this is all about. By the way, where's my camera?" She glanced back over her shoulder at the bed, hoping to find the state-of-the-art Olympus on the nightstand. That camera had cost her a small fortune, and she didn't have the money to replace it. "If you just let me go, I'll give you the film. I promise."
His blue eyes stared relentlessly into her own. "Who is this Consiglio you speak of?"
It was strange, but she had the impression he had no idea what she was talking about.which meant if he was telling the truth, then he hadn't brought her here because of Consiglio, but for something else.
Fear raced up her spine. She took a step back.
He took a step forward. "You have nothing to say?" His head turned slightly as he watched her through the longest, thickest lashes she'd ever seen on a man. "Nothing to say in your defense?"
Afraid she would only make things worse for herself, Alex clamped her lips together.
Shaking his head, he took her by the arm and marched her toward the fireplace. Alex's eyes widened when he pushed open a panel and pulled her through a hidden doorway into a dark corridor.
"What are you doing? Where are you taking me?" She tried to wrench her arm free of his death grip, but she couldn't pull away. Panic overriding reason, she kicked him hard in the shin. He cursed under his breath, but kept pulling her along with him.
Alex fought to contain her growing fear as they started down an unlit stairway. The air grew stale and cold air enveloped her, sending shivers through her entire body. When her feet once again touched flat ground, he released her abruptly.
In the darkness she heard his footsteps walking away from her. She knew she should run and try to escape, but she found herself unable to move, terrified at the overwhelming suffocating feeling that enveloped her.
She had suffered from claustrophobia most of her life-from the time she was three, when she'd broken her mother's favorite vase by accident. By way of punishment, her mother put her in the warm, musty pantry-a small room with no windows and a door that latched. Even now she remembered how stifling the air had been. An hour had seemed like an eternity. Seeing how effective the punishment was, her mother made a habit of throwing Alex in the pantry for the slightest offense.
Light filled the space, bringing Alex back to the present. The man emerged from behind a door with a lit torch in hand. With a quick glance, Alex took in her surroundings. They stood outside a small room with wooden barrels scattered about and a cot in one corner. The room looked suspiciously like a cell. A cold knot formed in her stomach as a scene from Silence of the Lambs flashed through her mind.
Spinning around, she raced toward the steps, but he grabbed hold of her arm and brought her up against his hard length.
"You're not going anywhere."
Forcing an iron control she did not feel, Alex kept her tone calm. "You've got to be joking."
"Do not question me," he warned, hauling her toward the cell.
She planted her feet, forcing him to pull her. When she fell to the ground, he resorted to dragging her. Bracing herself against the doorway, she tried to force her confusion into order. "I don't know what kind of sicko you are, but let me tell you right now, I've taken more than five years of karate, and if you try to put me in that cell, you'll pay for it dearly."
The lie fell on deaf ears as he lifted her effortlessly and dropped her to her feet in the cell.
He shut the door between them and turned the key in the lock, and panic quickly rose to the surface. "Do not leave me in here! I can't handle enclosed places. I'll freak out. Do what you will with me, but don't leave me locked up down here."
Her pleading fell on deaf ears. Hearing his retreating steps she pounded on the door with her fists, and screamed, "Let me out of here right now!"
