Desire After Dark (Page 51)

A sudden rush of cool air had her sitting up and looking around to see if there was a window open. Seeing nothing amiss, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and went into the bathroom to take a shower. She lifted a hand to her neck, her fingertips exploring the stitches. No doubt she would have a nasty scar.

After dressing in a pair of jeans and a sweater, she went downstairs for a bowl of cereal.

Sitting at the table in the kitchen, she again felt a sudden chill in the air. Was Antonio playing tricks on her? But no, he was resting in some secret hideaway.

Frowning, she washed her dishes and went upstairs.

And the chill followed behind her.

At the top of the stairs, she whirled around, her gaze darting right and left as the chill grew stronger. She let out a shriek as what felt like a cold hand touched her cheek.

A peal of merry laughter filled the air and then, to Vicki’s astonishment, the ethereal figure of a tall, slender woman in an old-fashioned peach-colored gown appeared before her.

"Good morrow," said the woman.

Vicki blinked and blinked again. It was Antonio’s resident ghost, she was sure of it.

"Lady Kathryn," she murmured.

"You’ve heard of me!" The ghost clapped her hands in delight. Vicki noticed that her feet didn’t touch the ground.

"Yes."

"Welcome to my humble home," Lady Kathryn said. "It is so wonderful to have another woman in residence. Please, do come into the parlor and sit down so that we can have a nice, long chat."

With a nod, Vicki followed the ghost into the front parlor and sat on the sofa.

Lady Kathryn perched on the chair, her back perfectly straight, her hands folded in her lap. "What brings you to the castle? Did that handsome creature, Battista, invite you?"

"Yes," Vicki said.

"Is he not the most charming man you have ever met?" Lady Kathryn asked, a dreamy look in her eye. "He is so tall and so handsome."

Vicki nodded, bemused that a ghost would still be interested in such things.

"Come now," Lady Kathryn said, "you must tell me all about yourself. Who are your people and where do you come from?"

"I’m from a little town called Pear Blossom Creek. My family is from Kentucky."

"Is that in the Colonies?"

"No," Vicki replied with a grin.

" ‘Tis quite bold of you to come here without a chaperone," Lady Kathryn remarked. "Are you and Antonio betrothed?"

"No, we’re just… " Vicki paused. Just what? Friends? No, they were certainly more than friends. Friends didn’t drink your blood! Not just friends, not quite lovers.

Lady Kathryn nodded. "I see," she said, her dark eyes smiling. "I had a liaison like that before I married Lord Dunsmere. It was quite satisfying. Indeed, I might have married Thomas had his family not been so poor and my father not so insistent that I marry Dunsmere. Not that Dunsmere was a bad man, you understand, but… " She lifted one hand in an elegant gesture. "He was rather older than I was and quite boring. Both in bed and out."

Vicki burst out laughing, then quickly covered her mouth.

Lady Kathryn laughed, as well. "I know, ’tis quite wicked of me to speak so of the dead, but… " She shrugged. "I feel I can be honest with you. And speaking of being honest…

" She leaned forward, her expression suddenly sober. "You do know that Antonio is, how shall I say this, different from other men?"

"Yes, I know."

Lady Kathryn reached forward and patted Vicki’s hand. Her touch was cool but intangible. "I am so glad you are here. The poor man has been quite lonely these past few hundred years."

Vicki shook her head. For a few minutes, she had almost forgotten that she was talking to a ghost, or that there was anything unusual about Antonio. But talk of a few hundred years brought her swiftly back to reality. She laughed inwardly. Reality, indeed.

Everything that had happened since the night Antonio first entered the diner seemed like some kind of fever-induced dream.

"Has he shown you the house?" Lady Kathryn asked. "It has been in my late husband’s family for generations."

"Yes, Antonio gave me a tour. It’s a fabulous place." Vicki wanted to ask if there were any other ghosts haunting the castle, but she was afraid she might offend Lady Kathryn, and surely if there were, Antonio would have mentioned it.

"Thank you." Lady Kathryn smiled, pleased, and then grew serious once more. "I saw a strange man wandering the grounds late last night. Are you expecting visitors?"

Vicki shook her head. "No."

"I do not recall seeing him in the area before. He had the most peculiar eyes."

Fear jolted down Vicki’s spine, making it suddenly hard to breathe. "Peculiar?"

"Yes, they were yellow, almost like a cat’s eyes. Very strange." Lady Kathryn frowned.

"Is something amiss? You look quite pale."

Vicki took several deep breaths. She felt pale. And frightened. Only last night she had asked Antonio if Falco could have followed them. Now she knew that he had.

She was fixing dinner when Antonio appeared in the kitchen. She felt a sudden rush of heat warm her cheeks when she turned and saw him standing there. His gaze met hers and her mind flooded with images of being in his arms, of his mouth on hers. And suddenly it wasn’t the chicken baking in the oven she was hungry for, but the feel of his arms around her, his mouth crushing hers, his voice whispering in her ear.

"Ah, my sweet one," he murmured. "For me it is the same."

"Then why are you standing way over there?"

He lifted one brow, smiled a smug masculine smile when she pointed one finger at him and beckoned him to come to her.

He closed the distance between them in two strides and drew her into his arms.

Lowering his head, he branded her lips with his.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight as he deepened the kiss, his mouth scorching hers, his tongue a flame that burned every other thought from her mind.

His hands moved over her back, slid down to cup her bu**ocks, drawing her more firmly against him, letting her feel the heat of his arousal.

She moaned, a raw animal-like cry of need, as she pressed herself against him, wanting to be closer, closer. Her hand delved under his shirt, her nails raking the cool skin of his back.

He breathed her name as he rained kisses on her face, her neck, the hollow of her throat. He might have taken her there, on the kitchen table, if a sudden rush of cool air hadn’t filled the room, followed by a peal of merry laughter.