Holiday with a Vampire 4 (14 page)

Taking hold of the tree with both hands, he lifted the fir as effortlessly as though it were table-size...making her terribly aware of the layer of muscles that had to lie beneath his coat.

Savannah trailed after the handsome stranger. She didn’t dare to check out more specifics. Already, she felt the rise in her pulse rate, a warning that she was out of small talk already and that decent goodbyes, in light of the gift of the gloves and his help with the tree, would be a chore.

Not to mention the variety of ridiculous bedroom images playing on a continuous loop in her mind.

But he didn’t speak to her again. He placed the tree in the back of her SUV and turned to her only after the tree had been safely stored, standing close enough that she felt his exhaled breath ruffle the fringe of bangs covering her forehead.

After that, he tilted her head back with a finger under her chin and gazed into her eyes as if he had the ability to see down into her soul. And maybe he could see down there, because his lips feathered over hers with a touch that was barely there, yet wickedly seductive.

The lightning in that touch of his mouth to hers careened through Savannah with a force that rocked her stance. She opened her eyes to see that a pained frown creased the man’s forehead and that for a few brief seconds, his incredibly chiseled face exposed an expression of unmasked, raw physical need that caused her heart to stumble over several necessary beats.

Somehow, her lips moved. “Merry Christmas,” she said, for lack of anything more clever to say. “I hope you find the right one for yourself.”

She offered him the gloves she hadn’t used. Instead of taking them, he took her hand in his. He closed his fingers over hers, his thumb resting on the pulse that throbbed in her wrist. Savannah fielded a sudden urge to melt into his arms. She could have sworn he was waiting for her to do that very thing.

“I have no doubt that I’ll find the right one,” he said after a moment of silence had passed. “No doubt whatsoever.”

In the deeper silence following his statement, he failed to ask for her phone number or request a date. After several erratic, thunderous seconds, Savannah reluctantly withdrew her hand and turned. She got into the car, started the engine and backed the car out of the parking space with her eyes glued to the rearview mirror.

In that mirror, her eyes met his.

Her heart gave one solid kick after another that rocked her all the way to her toes. Moisture gathered at her temples and between her breasts. In uncharted depths, she felt as if this guy was calling to her in some way—even though his lips didn’t move.

It took several rapid breaths to regain her equilibrium. The thing that stopped her from going back to him brazenly with her phone number in hand was the mixed bag of signals he had offered: a touch of lips that wasn’t really a kiss; a few seconds of hand-holding; the gift of some really nice gloves.

“It’s possible you’re a Christmas angel, sent to remind people of the season of giving,” she proposed. Besides helping with the tree, he’d made her feel special, if only for a few precious minutes. She should be happy with her little Christmas miracle and accept it for what it was.

Now that guy would find his own tree—a worthy, friendly, cheerful holiday endeavor...while she would indulge in some hot, erotic dreams.

Shaking off the ludicrous belief that if she turned around she’d find him waiting where she had left him and that he’d be waiting for her, Savannah sighed.

He hadn’t asked for anything further from her, so she had no right to have expected anything more from the odd encounter. Yet, damn it, if the guy wasn’t some kind of beautiful pervert, she had just possibly eclipsed the chance of a lifetime because of that one awful word...
stranger.

She didn’t actually hear him whisper, “Soon, Savannah, it will all be over.”

That was preposterous and couldn’t be right, because regretfully, it was over already.

Chapter 2

D
ylan’s mouth felt dry as he watched Savannah Clark drive away. His throat had begun to burn. There was an unusual tightness in his jaw from withholding his innate power.

He shouldn’t have touched her. That was a mistake.

The strength and sparkle he saw in her was what had kept him riveted, that was all. He’d been human once and hadn’t thought about those times until now. She had made him remember.

After he had taken his final breath as a mortal, he’d been saved by the light and grace of an angel. The reward for his service to her cause, in the fight against darkness, was that he retained his soul. But regardless of what Savannah Clark had stirred in him, his job was to take away some of what had drawn him to her. He had to erase a few details from her mind, leaving parts of her mind blank.

He had to diminish her.

His whispers would make her forget about that Christmas Star and its secret celestial twin that no one was ever meant to find—a simultaneous event masked by the brilliance of a star that had guided wise men to a manger.

Finding that other event might expose the dwelling place of his brethren to the Fallen, the disgruntled ones cast out of the heavenly realm that also craved light but were doomed to exist without it.

The fear was that if Savannah answered the riddle of the star she sought, she might find the other.

It didn’t matter that she had single-handedly brought back to him the pain of recalling his own former humanness or that there was pure joy in repeating her name. Feelings had no place in an immortal’s life. Desire for a beautiful human soul was out of the question. The fact was that if Savannah were to complete her research on that star, she would find him in the details. Him and others like him.

Dylan grew restless as her taillights receded. He had missed the opportunity to take care of this problem. He had been distracted.

Finally, with an immortal’s incredible speed, he started after Savannah Clark, determined to put selfish needs aside and fulfill his duty.

* * *

The drive to the small cottage her parents had left her took ten minutes. Savannah sat for longer than that in the driveway, staring at the quaint one-story house and the tiny front yard dotted with solar-lit plastic snowflakes.

“Home, sweet home.”

She pulled the tree out of the car with a good, hard tug. “You’ll like it here,” she said, dragging the fir toward the front door, panting by the time she had reached it.

She scrambled to get the key in the lock and shoved the door open. The tree left skid marks of dew and pine needles on the foyer’s wood floor as she wrestled it inside.

“Only six more paces to go, and you will find your place of honor,” she promised, straightening for a breath and to brush away a tickle at the base of her neck that might have been a draft seeping through the front window’s panes.

Catching sight of her reflection in the glass, she laughed. Pine needles stuck to her hair and her sweater. She was an unruly mess, and she’d dared to imagine that a gorgeous hunk of stranger had been attracted to that?

Movement drew her attention. She craned her neck.

Looking beyond her reflection, she sobered quickly, certain there had been another face out there; one that shouldn’t have been here at all, on the sidewalk in front of her home.

Tingling sensations engulfed her arms, tripping the leftover rumble still rolling around inside her. She’d know that face anywhere.

Dropping the tree, she turned. Though she might have been tongue-tied in terms of small talk, she had never been a weakling when push came to shove. A weakling wouldn’t have been allowed to get ahead in the male-dominated profession she’d chosen.

Instead of hiding or calling the cops, she went to the front door and flung it open. She stepped outside.

“What’s going on?” she asked the man standing there, immediately confirming his identity by the way her heart continued to pound. “What do you want?”

“I know I shouldn’t be here,” the man from the tree lot said.

“So, what? You followed me? You do realize what that looks like?”

“I do know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re admitting to being a stalker, then?”

“Not exactly, though I doubt if I can convince you of it in this day and age. Things aren’t as simple as they used to be, are they? In these times, people have to be wary.”

Savannah didn’t see a car behind him at the curb. She still felt the illicit brush of his lips across hers. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted more time with you.”

“Maybe you could have mentioned that before.”

She would have jumped at the chance if he had brought this up earlier and in public.

“I have a tree in the middle of my living room and work to do. So, look, I appreciate your help with the tree, but this is my home, and I don’t know you.”

“I can help with the tree, if you’ll let me. I’ll tell you about myself and why I’m here.”

Savannah shook her head. “I don’t think so. There are rules about this sort of thing for a reason.”

She hated those rules now. This guy was an exotic dream come true.

“What can I do to convince you?” he asked.

“Give me your cell number. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I have no phone.”

He hadn’t raised his voice or advanced. His body was highlighted by the faintly garish light of the glowing snowflakes beside him. His handsome face was calm, his expression questioning.

“Do you live around here?” Savannah asked, smart enough to be aware of the fact that danger might have found her. At the same time, she couldn’t help but think that her wish for company, and this company in particular, had been heard by somebody.

What if his presence was some kind of sign?

“I live abroad,” he said in the sexy, lightly accented voice that intensified her inner longing tenfold.

Savannah used the doorjamb to steady herself. “What’s the use of getting to know each other if you don’t live here?”

“We have things in common that I’d like to speak to you about.”

“And you just happened to stop off at a Christmas tree lot?”

“I’ll confess to having followed you there.”

This was a shocking discovery. She winced. “Really? I wonder what those things we have in common might be.”

“Stars,” he said.

Savannah wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly and truly hadn’t been expecting his reply.

“One event in particular,” he clarified. “The so-called Christmas Star.”

He appeared suddenly at the bottom of the steps, materializing there while Savannah had glanced up at the sky. She hadn’t seen or heard him cross the lawn.

“You knew who I was at the tree lot,” she said.

“Yes. Savannah Clark, of the Duncan Observatory.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I thought...” She let that one go. The guy hadn’t been attracted to her. He had some sort of business agenda.

That hurt a little.

“Are you an astronomer or astrophysicist?” Her voice had slipped an octave.

“Neither. Though I do know what you’re after and have read your published research on the Christmas Star.”

“What am I after?”

“You want to find out what that event really was and affix a date to it, as well as its precise location. You’ve been driven to find these things and are closing in on the answer. Am I right?”

She nodded. “Everyone familiar with my research knows that.”

“I might be able to help you.”

“In what way?”

“I know something about that event.”

For a moment, Savannah forgot what was going on, as well as the dangerous aspects of this meeting. Quite possibly, this guy might be a colleague, which would make her attraction to him acceptable, if unrequited.

“Prove that you know something. Tell me about my research on that star.”

He glanced up at the sky in the same way she had a minute before. “Your last paper proposed that the Christmas Star might not be a star at all, but a supernova.”

“Do you even know what the word means?” Savannah asked.

“A supernova is a stellar explosion that often can outshine an entire galaxy.”

Being ungodly handsome
and
knowledgeable made for a heady combination. If that brief kiss in the parking lot had started something, this just sealed the deal.

Though the night was chilly, she felt feverish and the back of her neck was damp. Given the fact that her research was to be fiercely guarded until publication and she was really attracted to this guy, should she honor his request for some time and talk? Could he be trusted? And could she trust herself around him? She looked for a way to justify this meeting, deciding that he could be a reporter, a theologist or a priest with concerns that she might mess with the legends and beliefs affixed to that star.

Glancing to his throat to see if she spotted a white clerical collar, Savannah instead found a lightly raised line of scar tissue that encircled his neck. At first glance, the white band had the appearance of a tattoo. Tattoos were popular. She had one in the shape of a star on her right ankle.

Not a priest.

“Then again,” he said, bringing her attention back to his face, “since you already know everything, of what use is anything further I might have to share with you? Is that what you’re thinking?”

“That’s not it at all,” Savannah countered, wanting to prolong this meeting because heaven help her, in spite of the doubts, she desired company tonight. She felt lonely and alone, and it was almost Christmas, a time for joy, sharing, and the companionship of family and friends—both of which she sadly lacked.

“I’d like to share some conversation with you tonight,” the man across from her said, his tone a vibration that ran seductively along the length of her spine.

He went on. “It’s possible that I might know things you don’t know about the heavens. I’m willing to trade confidences with you, if you’ll also talk about something I’ve been wondering about.”

“What might that be?”

“Your enjoyment of this holiday is what I’d like to know about.”

Truly, she hadn’t been ready for that. And she had no right to be disappointed that what he wanted didn’t involve her body and a large, soft mattress.

“How can you not know about Christmas?” she asked.

“I know of it, of course. I’d just like to understand what it means to you. What finding that star means to you. But it’s cold out here, and you’re trembling, chilled to the bone. Can we go inside if I promise to help with the tree and whatever else you might need help with as penance for disturbing you? If you’re worried, you can keep a phone in your hand, with a finger on the dial.”

“Do you have a name?” Savannah asked.

“Dylan. McCay.”

“Do I need to be afraid of you, Dylan?” Her question was absurd, because what kind of homicidal maniac—if that’s what he turned out to be—would answer that question truthfully?

“I won’t harm you. I’m no threat to you physically,” he replied. “You can check me for weapons if you like.”

It wasn’t the weapons Savannah was worried about. It was the rest of him, the glorious whole of Dylan McCay, along with the unexpected bonus of his knowledge of her research.

“Come back tomorrow,” she made herself say, knowing that if he turned his back, she’d recant.

“Tonight is all the time I can afford. I have to be somewhere by daybreak.”

“Like a vampire?”

He took seconds to reply. “Yes, like that. I’ve taken far too much time here already.”

Savannah smiled. “I’m flattered.”

He smiled, too, as though her expression was contagious. That smile gave him a boyish air and made him more approachable, more believable somehow. The earnestness of his expression also seemed to snap into place some kind of conspiratorial bond that made it all right to break a few rules.

If this guy was a stalker, he was also a damn good actor who had studied his part. Stars, supernovas and help with a tree?

She wanted more than anything to spend time with Dylan McCay. That truly would be a wish come true.

She could invite him inside, take a chance, if precautions were taken, and she just happened to know how to take them. She’d turn on the computers and tape recorders she’d placed in nearly every room to record any spontaneous ideas she had. She would use them to record this meeting with Dylan McCay.

The visual part of the feed would go to the observatory data banks. If anything happened to her, someone there would find the record, use face-recognition programming and chase this guy down. Geeks knew all these tricks.

It was chancy, but a chance she had to take. Sheer providence might have sent this guy to her on yet another lonely December night. Plus, he’d get her tree ready for trimming...if he didn’t try to murder her first.

Win-win? Trusting in the goodness of others? These things were Clark family goals. Who was she to break with tradition?

“Can you wait here for a minute, please?” she asked. When he inclined his head, she left him on her front steps and went inside to prepare the way for who knew what...hoping he would turn out to be the angelic creature she’d imagined him, rather than a devil in beautiful disguise.

When she had finished, she opened the door and stepped aside for him to pass. He hesitated for a moment before she invited him in.

Tall, enigmatic Dylan McCay stepped into the foyer and the smell of cold nights, wool coats and another unidentifiable scent that suggested he’d bathed in an aphrodisiac combined to form a heavenly fragrance.

Savannah met his intense blue gaze. Heat flooded her body, pushing the night’s chill into the past. The masculine power he gave off curled around her like little fingers of flame.

This was a man with a business agenda?

It was hard for her not to react or respond to this kind of attraction. Conversation alone wasn’t going to suffice, and she hoped her willpower would be strong—at least for the get-to-know-him part of this meeting.

She hadn’t been wrong about the attraction—or the fact that he felt it as much as she did.

With her hand gripping the doorknob and her heart racing, Savannah said, “Make yourself at home.”