Her touch was barely there, but he felt warmth penetrating at that gentle brush of her fingers, distracting his full concentration—and he couldn’t have that. He’d never experienced such a thing before. No matter what was going on around him, no matter who he was with, his life was all about the hunt and surviving.
Stefan didn’t know whether to drag her into the next alley, slam her up against the wall and kiss her until she was every bit as senseless as he seemed to be, or to be done with it, grab her head in his hands and wrench hard enough to break her neck. Instinctively he dropped back a pace behind, just enough to put him into position. His stomach knotted. The vise was back, squeezing his heart until his chest ached. That thought brought him up short. Just how deep had he fallen into her spell to be so damned desperate? Every survival instinct screamed at him to get out while he still could.
“This will only take a minute,” Judith continued, oblivious that her life hung by a mere thread.
Inwardly he cursed his inability to overcome who and what he was—even with an innocent. And he was becoming convinced she was innocent. He had radar for the enemy, man or woman, and it had never once let him down. She wasn’t as she portrayed herself to the world, there was too much emotion bottled up in her, held back away from the world. He saw it there, smoldering deep below the surface. Damn it all, she had him twisted up inside, a conflicted mess that a few hours earlier he would never have believed could happen.
She bent low to speak to the man on the ground. “Are you warm enough, Bill?”
He nodded. “Blythe brought me socks and new boots.” He pointed to his feet sticking out from under his blanket. “Been nice lately.” His gaze shifted to Stefan, then darted away again. “Saw the devil today. He stood across the street, just there.” He indicated the railing separating the street from the bluffs. “Devil had death in his eyes.”
Judith frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Like this one.” Bill indicated Stefan. “Death in his eyes.”
Judith looked up at Stefan a little helplessly and shook her head as if apologizing for the accusation. That little observation told Stefan more than he’d learned in two weeks about the old man. He was most likely gifted, probably was the reason he’d been attracted to Sea Haven and at one time, he’d been a soldier of sorts, probably serving in the Vietnam War.
“Bill, do you want me to take you to the clinic?”
Stefan knew she thought the old man was ill, but Bill had no doubt seen Petr Ivanov with his dead eyes and recognized a sociopath. The exterminator could easily be identified as the devil carrying death with him. He didn’t want to think too closely about what this man had seen in his own eyes.
Bill shook his head, shrinking back as if the idea of a clinic was far worse than facing the devil, and maybe for him it was.
“Have you eaten today?”
Bill nodded. “Still got credits at the store and coffeehouse.”
Judith smiled at him. “Have a nice evening, Bill.”
“You too, Miss Judith,” the old man mumbled.
It was obvious to Stefan that Bill felt genuine affection for Judith. It had taken a concentrated effort over time to get the old man to even speak with him briefly, exchanging only pleasantries. The occasional hot coffee and pastry hadn’t been enough to loosen his tongue.
“I’m sorry for what he said about you,” Judith said. “He gets confused sometimes. He’s been on the street for years. Everyone contributes, even the high school students. They put money on a tab for him at the local stores. He won’t take much in the way of help, though. He has several places he sleeps and won’t go to a shelter, not like we have anything like a shelter around here.” She sighed. “There isn’t a lot of help for the mentally ill.”
“He doesn’t want help,” Stefan replied honestly. “He’s free. He lives the way he wants to live.”
She fell silent for a moment, walking a few steps before she looked at him again. “Do you think so? He’s been around for as long as I’ve been here, and Inez says for twenty years before that. He actually went to school here and then left for a while. When he came back . . .” She shrugged.
“He has the right to choose. He fought for that right and he’s entitled to do what he wants. If he chooses to sit in the sun for two days without moving, he feels that’s his right.”
Judith swept her hair over her shoulder, her eyes meeting his. Once again he experienced that strange, unsettling reaction in the pit of his stomach.
“I never thought of it that way. I always think he’s sad and I feel bad, wishing I could find a way to make his life better.”
Stefan couldn’t help himself, his hand slipped to the small of her back in a gesture that would be natural to anyone but him. His left hand. The one with the itching palm. The moment he touched her, the itch subsided. But the fact remained he had no business tying up one of his weapons. He didn’t touch people and they didn’t touch him. The irrational compulsion irritated him. He didn’t do things that could get him killed.
He clenched his teeth but didn’t deny himself the contact with her. This was a nightmare. She’d sounded so forlorn. Lost. In need. What the hell was he thinking? If anyone was in need, it would be him. He’d lost his soul a long time ago, shed everything human and yet here he was, thinking he was going to be that man. The one to take that note out of her voice and remove the sorrow from her eyes. The man who would provide a shield for her so that she was never afraid to express any emotion she felt.
He wanted to be the man who gave her freedom—the man she turned to in the middle of the night. The one who had the right to touch her, to hold her, to keep her safe. He would kiss that look off her face and make love to her until she couldn’t move, only look at him with her glorious eyes and be genuinely happy, not pretending, or finding moments, just little pockets of happiness. He would be that man for her.
He swore under his breath as they continued down the street. She hadn’t moved away from him, nor had she given him a look of censure. Just where the hell was her sense of self-preservation?
“You’re not doing a very good job of saving us,” he accused.
Those dark eyes drifted over him and then her long lashes swept down. “I know,” she admitted in a low tone. “I’m pretending. Just this once.”
His heart leapt. She didn’t have to explain what she meant. He was pretending too. He swept his hand down that waterfall of silk. It was a long way down, all the way to the curve of her buttocks. Blood pounded and roared in his ears. Heat rushed through his veins. He had an almost overpowering urge to bunch that hair in his fist and drag her head around so he could taste the passion in her mouth. He
felt
the fire in her rising to meet the firestorm blazing through his body.
Never in his life, until Judith, had he had a natural physical reaction to a woman. He had thought it impossible. It was both exhilarating and terrifying to be so out of control. For once in his life, he felt like a man instead of a machine. Judith had given him that. He would always have these moments with her if he could allow himself to embrace the feeling.
They were only a few steps away from the crowd. Already a couple of people were turning toward them, noticing Judith and waving a cheery hello. He had seconds to savor the fact that he’d found the answers to questions he’d always thrust into the back of his mind. He’d traveled around the world hunting and often stood outside the homes of people, looking at the lights, listening to the low murmur of voices, watching a woman bend her head toward a child and wondered what it would be like to feel that depth of emotion, if only for a moment, for another human being. With all the silky hair burning like fire through the center of his palm, he’d found what he was looking for.
As they came up to the edge of the crowd, he dropped his hand, giving himself enough room to use any of the many weapons concealed on his person. He was Thomas Vincent and these were the people who would be his neighbors if he bought the gallery—if he settled in Sea Haven and found a woman to spend the rest of his life with.
“Judith! We missed you, honey.” A tall blonde greeted Judith with a kiss. Her gaze rested on Thomas, but more with polite interest than anything else.
“Thomas, this is my sister, Blythe Daniels,” Judith introduced him. Her fingers brushed his arm, as if bringing him closer.
Blythe noticed that very small intimacy, even there in the dark, and that told Stefan she was someone to take great care around. He flashed a smile and took her hand when she held it out. There was the smallest current of energy, enough that his warning radar went off. There was more to Blythe than met the eye.
“Thomas is considering buying the gallery,” Judith offered.
“Of course. It’s beautiful. I’ve always loved that building and the view is spectacular,” Blythe said.
“I have to agree.” Stefan flashed another shy smile toward the blonde.
Stefan slipped into his role easily, more familiar with the chameleon than with Stefan Prakenskii who really didn’t exist. Thomas Vincent might be interested in Judith Henderson, but he wasn’t threatened by that interest. Thomas would be attracted to any number of women. He might be uncomfortable because he was a little shy where women were concerned, but he didn’t mind contemplating a pleasant future.
Stefan Prakenskii knew he would go up in flames with Judith, burn alive and crave more—
need
more. His entire body and mind responded to her, killing his sense of self-preservation and destroying years and years of discipline and training. For him, there would only be this one woman. She was a virtual stranger, yet he knew her almost intimately already. He’d spent a lifetime traveling the world and not once had this incredible, impossible phenomenon happened to him, and he knew with utter certainty it wouldn’t again.
“The building is worth a fortune,” Thomas agreed readily. He turned, allowing his eyes to sweep the rooftops on a pretext of looking back at the property. “This is quite a town.”
Behind Blythe, another older woman laughed as she held out her hand. “I think we’re too small to qualify as a town. We refer to ourselves as a village. I’m Inez Nelson. It’s a pleasure to meet you. The gallery is a very important part of Sea Haven.”
For her small size, she had a firm handshake and penetrating eyes. She definitely was assessing him carefully.
“Thomas Vincent,” he introduced himself.
“Don’t let her sway you, Thomas,” Judith warned. “She’s Frank Warner’s fiancée, so she has a vested interest.”
“Did your wife come with you?” Inez asked blatantly fishing.
Blythe and Judith laughed aloud, clearly used to Inez interrogating people and taking no offense. Thomas wouldn’t either. He was a charming man. He widened his smile to a boyish grin and shook his head.
“No wife, ma’am. It’s just me.”
Inez’s eyes immediately lit up. “Oh, how nice. This is the perfect place to raise a family.”
“He’d need a wife for that, Inez,” Blythe pointed out.
Inez smirked. “Exactly. I believe neither of you is married.”
“That’s it.” Blythe took the wineglass from her hand. “You’re cut off. Thomas, please ignore her. Her tongue is out of control tonight.”
Inez looked unrepentant. “No more so than every night. How else are we going to entice this handsome man to give our little community a chance?”
“She should be the one showing you the books,” Judith said.
“I wouldn’t mind hearing what she’s offering.” Stefan entered into the game. “Do either of these two come with the gallery? I could use a wife and children and so far, I’ve failed miserably in that department.”
“I might be able to arrange it,” Inez agreed. Her voice turned mock innocent. “Judith, would you care for a glass of wine or two?”
Judith laughed. “You’re incorrigible, Inez. On that note, I’m going home.”
She caught Stefan’s arm and tugged. He saw the movement, knew she was going to reach for him and could have avoided her touch as he normally would do, but he let her fingers settle over his wrist. It felt a little as if she’d trapped his heart in her hand.
“I’ll be taking him to safety as well, so get moving onto your next stop and quit trying to sell Frank’s gallery using foul means,” Judith teased.
Stefan’s mouth went dry at her touch. He took her fingers and tucked them into the crook of his arm, pretending he was Thomas, when it was Stefan drawing her close beneath his shoulder, indulging his terrible need to be with this woman. The fire between them refused to go out, no matter how hard either of them pretended it wasn’t burning hot and bright.
Worse, there was a chance that if it was simple physical attraction, they could have a fiery affair and be done with it, but somehow, the attraction went deeper, bone deep. Even that wasn’t a good enough explanation for what seemed to be happening. As he walked with her, he realized it was that her spirit moved against his—maybe even absorbed his. However it had happened, this woman was forever written on his body, claiming him.
She turned her head and her gaze collided with his. A vise squeezed his heart hard at that look of longing he saw in her eyes. He wasn’t alone feeling the strength and intensity of the pull.
“It’s because we both have gifts,” Judith whispered. “I’ve heard that can happen. The gifts complement each other or something.”
She was courageous, he had to hand her that. There was no pretense. Judith might not show herself to the world, but she was honest with him when it mattered and he admired that. She could have remained silent.
He did the worst possible thing. He tied up his other hand by sliding it over the top of hers. He couldn’t resist feeling her soft skin, couldn’t resist the connection. For the first time in his life he wanted someone of his own to hold on to. Someone to
see
him. Someone to make him real and not the insubstantial shadow he knew he was. Not someone—Judith.
“You make it hard to breathe,” she admitted, turning her head away from him to look at the ocean crashing along the cliffs.
“I thought you were doing that to me,” Stefan said and moved his body more protectively in place to keep Ivanov from seeing her face too clearly if the scope was trained on her. That, too, was strictly the truth, not Thomas, but Stefan, his lungs burning for air.