Home > The Vampire and the Virgin (Love at Stake #8)(7)

The Vampire and the Virgin (Love at Stake #8)(7)
Author: Kerrelyn Sparks

She sighed. Too many years of psychology classes had left her with a tendency to overanalyze everything. She just needed to relax and smell the roses. Or one rose in particular. She lifted it to her nose and smiled.

Her attention snapped to a figure coming from the south. She looked through the telescope, and her heart lurched in her chest. It was him! He was real.

He wasn't jogging tonight. Instead, he walked toward her with a quick determined stride. He lifted a hand in greeting, and her heart did another flip. Through the telescope, she could tell he was focused entirely on her. He certainly had good eyesight.

She stepped toward the wall and waved a hand to acknowledge his greeting. He immediately broke into a jog, and her heart pounded with each step that brought him closer. His eyes never seemed to leave her. He was checking her out, and that brought heat to her cheeks. Was he excited and attracted? Or was he already regretting his actions? She opened her senses to detect his feelings.

Nothing. In all her twenty-four years, she'd never met a person she couldn't read. She closed her eyes and furrowed her brow with concentration.

Nothing.

She opened her eyes to make sure he was real. Yep, he was almost in front of her. Why couldn't she sense him? She always knew how people felt. She always knew when they were lying.

Good God, this was awful. How would she know where she stood with this man? How could she trust anything he said? A spurt of panic flashed through her, and she considered escaping into the house.

But then she saw his face. He had stopped on the beach below her, and he was gazing up at her with an intense, searching look as if he didn't know what to think. Well, that made two of them.

She met his gaze, and an instant wave of desire flooded through her. It caught her by surprise, nearly buckling her knees. Whoa. She gripped the edge of the wall to steady herself. She didn't usually react like that.

Actually, she wasn't sure how she usually reacted. She'd always concentrated on other people's feelings so she would know how to deal with them.

This was a first for her. She was in the company of another person, but alone with her own feelings. And she'd never realized her feelings could be so...strong. Maybe they just seemed that way because they were isolated. Or because this situation was new to her.

Or maybe he was the cause.

She swallowed hard. She'd have to be careful. She had no idea what he was feeling. Or if he could be trusted. How did normal women survive like this? It was terrifying.

And incredibly exciting.

He raised a hand. "Good evening."

His low voice carried up to her with the slight stir of a breeze that tickled her neck. She felt giddy with excitement. Almost giggly.

"Do ye speak English, lass?"

She bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. His accent was adorable. "You're Scottish?"

"Aye. Ye're...American?"

She nodded with a growing smile. He smiled back, and a fluttery feeling started in her stomach. Careful. You don't know if he can be trusted.

"I'm Robert Alexander MacKay." He inclined his head, leaning forward.

He was bowing? She stifled a giggle and wondered what the gorgeous Scotsman would do next.

He regarded her expectantly. Green, she noted with great satisfaction. His eyes were green just like she had hoped. And even though his hair was a rich, dark red, his eyebrows and whiskers looked more brownish.

"And you?" he asked.

"Yes?"

His mouth quirked with a half smile. "Forgive the bold assumption, but I thought ye might be in possession of a name I could call you?"

She laughed. Several suggestions flitted through her mind. Sweetheart, love of my life, center of my universe. She'd been so busy admiring him, she'd forgotten to introduce herself. "I'm Olivia. Olivia Sotiris."

"Ah. Then I was wrong about you."

"How?"

"I thought you were a Greek goddess."

She snorted. What a smooth talker. And what a shame that she couldn't tell if he was lying. She lifted the rose. "Did you leave this?"

"Aye."

"Where?"

His eyebrows lifted. "I left it on the steps, pinned down with a rock. Why do ye ask?"

Because she needed to know if he was an honest man. She loved the way he pronounced down like dune, but she'd be a fool to fall for a man just because his voice was like music and his face and body were like a beautiful sculpture. She sniffed the rose. "It's lovely. Thank you."

"Would ye care to walk with me a wee bit?"

Her heart rate sped up. "I-I'd rather stay here. You can join me if you like."

His gaze flitted over the rocky bluff separating them, then his mouth twitched. "I'll take the stairs."

"Be careful. The stairs are steep. And dark." Her heart raced as he disappeared in the narrow stairwell. He was coming up!

She glanced toward the back door. Her grandmother was alone and asleep. What if she'd invited an axe murderer up here? She left the rose on the table and grabbed the cricket bat. It wasn't just her work at the FBI that made her suspicious. She'd learned as a young child to be wary when she'd discovered how often people lied.

He reached the top of the stairs and stopped, motioning to the cricket bat in her hands. "Are ye planning to whack me now?"

He was taller than she'd realized. And his shoulders broader. She flexed her hands around the bat. "I don't usually talk to strangers. I should warn you, I'm a black belt in tae kwon do."

His jaw shifted. "I willna harm you, lass."

"I know. I won't let you."

He studied her a moment, then his mouth relaxed with a hint of a smile. "Ye're as brave as ye are beautiful. That's a rare combination."

Her heart stilled for a moment. Brave and beautiful. That's what her grandfather had said to Yia Yia the day they met. "I don't mean to be rude, Mr. MacKay. A woman has to be careful these days."

"Aye, ye're correct." His gaze moved slowly down her body to her feet. His mouth lifted in a half smile as his gaze roamed back to her face.

Damn. She didn't know whether to whack him or melt into a puddle. Part of her was flustered and flattered. Her skin tingled when he examined her with those gorgeous green eyes. But another part of her was nervous. She tightened her grip on the bat in case he made a lunge at her. It was so hard, not being able to read his emotions. For a second she thought his eyes were darkening, but he turned toward the telescope and peered through the eyepiece.

"So, Olivia, what brings you to Patmos?"

She liked the way her name sounded with his accent. "I'm visiting my...relatives. Four uncles. They're...big. Professional wrestlers." When his mouth twitched, she figured he wasn't buying her story. "What about you?"

"Vacation. And recuperation. I was...injured, so I've been trying to get back in shape."

She glanced at his muscular body. "I would say you definitely succeeded."

"Thank you for noticing."

Her face heated with a blush. "How did you get injured?"

He grew silent, frowning at the tile floor.

"Sorry." She propped the bat against a wooden column of the grape arbor. "You don't have to talk about it..."

"It just happened. My job can be dangerous."

"What do you do?" When his frown deepened, she felt a sudden need to comfort him, to make him smile again. "I know! You're a bullfighter."

He gave her a dubious look. "A Scottish bullfighter?"

"Yeah, with a red plaid cape. And little sequins on your kilt. Drives the Scottish bulls crazy."

He chuckled. "Nay."

Her heart expanded in her chest. It felt so good to chase away his frown. She wandered toward the whitewashed wall to stand next to him. "Then you're a lion tamer?" When he shook his head, she continued. "Rodeo clown? Snake charmer?"

"Nay." He grinned, his green eyes twinkling.

"Okay. I'm thinking Navy SEAL."

"I'm thinking seals are black."

She snorted. "You know what I mean. You could be a member of a special, macho, elite force, protecting mankind from insidious evil in all forms, including the triple-decker bacon cheeseburger."

"I can safely say I've never battled a cheeseburger."

"Sure, but have you battled evil?"

He stiffened and looked toward the sea, frowning again.

The skin on the back of her neck prickled. "You are some kind of soldier."

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