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Chapter 1
Lake Tahoe,
CA
Kaitlyn Sherrad rolled down the window
of her baby blue Porsche and stared up at the log cabin set alone
in the midst of a cluster of tall pines. As usual, her father had
outdone himself. Last month, when he had come to the States for her
graduation from college, he had asked her what kind of gift she
wanted and she had said, facetiously, Oh, nothing much, just a little summer place in the
mountains.
After pulling into the driveway and
cutting the engine, Kaitlyn grabbed her suitcases from the
backseat. Smiling with anticipation, she hurried up the narrow,
winding, red brick path that led to the front porch. She quickly
skipped up the stairs and unlocked the door.
Knowing her father, she wasn’t the
least bit surprised to find the living room already furnished. An
off-white sofa with a high, curved back and a matching love seat
faced each other in front of a rough-hewn stone fireplace. A deep
mauve carpet covered the floor, flowered curtains hung at the
windows. The tables were walnut, as was the large bookcase—already
filled with books by her favorite authors—that took up most of one
wall.
Dropping her suitcases beside the sofa,
Kaitlyn explored the rest of the house—two large bedrooms with a
connecting bathroom; a den, complete with desk, computer and
printer, sofa and big-screen TV; a small kitchen with new
appliances and a refrigerator filled with her favorites foods; a
service porch equipped with a new washer and dryer.
She shook her head, a sting of tears
behind her eyes. Being an only child, she had always been spoiled
rotten, but this went far beyond the ballet classes and piano
lessons her parents had provided when she was in grade school, the
new wardrobe they had given her every year, the Porsche her father
had surprised her with for her twenty-first birthday last
year.
She had hoped her folks would spend the
summer with her, but trouble at the Fortress had drawn them home.
It wasn’t always easy, having a father who was the Master of the
Carpathian Coven. Sometimes, as now, his duties could not be
ignored. Usually, her uncle Andrei handled things at the Fortress,
but whatever the emergency had been, it had required her father’s
attention, which meant that her mother had gone, as well. To her
knowledge, her parents rarely spent more than a few hours
apart.
Kaitlyn sighed as she removed her
sweater and tossed it over the back of the sofa. Someday, she hoped
to find a man who would adore her the way her father adored her
mother. A man who would live and die for her. A man she couldn’t
live without.
Picking up her suitcases, she carried
them into the first bedroom and tossed them on the bed. This room
was done in varying shades of green, with billowy white lace
curtains. The twin windows looked out over a sparkling blue
lake.
Kaitlyn shook her head. How was she
ever going to express her gratitude for the love and kindness her
parents had showered upon her? She had thanked them on numerous
occasions in the past, but words seemed woefully inadequate. She
knew they hadn’t been altogether pleased with her decision to
remain in California after she graduated from college, but they had
accepted it without argument.
Feeling a little homesick, she opened
the larger suitcase and began to unpack. Her folks had always
treated her like a princess, but then, maybe that was natural,
since she had been raised in an old stone castle in the heart of
Romania.
She smiled as she hung her clothes in
the closet.
All she needed now was a
prince.
Chapter 2
Zackary Ravenscroft strolled through
the main floor of the casino, stopping now and then to chat with
one of the customers, pausing to answer a question here, to address
a complaint there. He loved owning a nightclub, loved the
excitement that filled the air, the rush of adrenaline that fired
the blood of the patrons, the fact that no two nights were ever the
same.
Zack had built the casino ten years
ago, simply because he was bored and thought it would be a nice
distraction. It was one of the best decisions he had made in the
last six hundred years. Not only did the casino provide a hefty
income, but the constant change in customers assured a steady
supply of women. And Zack loved women—all women. Old or young, ugly
or pretty, smart or not so smart, black, white, red, brown,
yellow—it made no difference. He loved them all. And they loved him
in every way imaginable.
Leaving the gaming tables behind, he
strolled up and down the aisles of slot machines. He stopped a
moment to watch an elderly woman playing one of the old dollar
slots. From her shabby appearance, she appeared to be down on her
luck and most likely using the last of her money in a desperate
hope of hitting it big. He had seen it all before. Usually, he had
no sympathy for those who plunked down their last five bucks in
hopes of winning a fortune on the turn of a card. Sure, it happened
from time to time, but no matter what the game, the odds were
always with the house.
The old lady was muttering under her
breath.
It took Zack a minute to realize she
wasn’t cursing but praying.
He frowned as he listened to the
urgency of her words, heard the unshed tears in her voice as she
sent a desperate plea toward Heaven.
Zack grunted softly. Her husband was
sick. He needed an operation, and medication they could no longer
afford. She had lost her job. They couldn’t pay the
rent.
She needed a miracle.
Murmuring a breathless, “Amen,” she
shoved her remaining three dollars into the machine, then clasped
her hands to her breast.
With a bemused shake of his head, Zack
concentrated on the wheels of the slot machine.
One gold bar.
Two.
Three.
Smiling, Zack moved on as the machine
lit up and bells and whistles went off, signaling that a player had
hit the ten-thousand-dollar jackpot. So, he had lost ten grand, he
thought, but it wasn’t much to pay for a miracle.
He was still smiling when he stepped
outside. It was a beautiful night. Cool and crisp. A few scattered
clouds drifted across the face of the full moon.
Feeling suddenly restless, he wandered
away from the casino, crossed the parking lot, and headed for the
wooded hillside that began just beyond the blacktop.
He moved soundlessly through the
underbrush, his keen senses aware of the tiny night creatures that
scented a predator and quickly scurried out of his way. He caught
the scent of a skunk and farther on, that of a deer.
Nearing one of the cabins, he came
across a black bear scavenging through a trash can. The bear reared
up on its hind legs and sniffed the wind. Apparently recognizing
Zack as a threat, the animal dropped back down on all fours and
lumbered into the trees.
Grinning, Zack continued on until he
came to the solitary cabin at the top of the hill. He paused,
surprised to see there were lights on in the house. A plume of gray
smoke rose from the chimney. The cabin had been vacant for the last
two years. He had, in fact, been thinking of buying the place for a
rental.
Ah, well, too late now.
He was turning away when he caught the
scent of prey. Glancing back, he saw a young woman looking out the
front window. He whistled softly. He had seen a lot of beautiful
women in his day, but this one—he shook his head. She was beyond
beautiful. Her skin was smooth and unblemished, her eyes a deep
dark blue. Hair the color of a raven’s wing tumbled over her
shoulders.
He frowned when her gaze found his, and
then shook his head. She couldn’t see him, of course. He was hidden
by the darkness. And yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that she
knew he was there, that she was staring at him, as he was staring
at her.
Curious to see her reaction, he stepped
out of the darkness into a shaft of bright moonlight.
He had expected her to gasp in
surprise, call 911, or hastily move away from the window and close
the curtains. Instead, she tilted her head to the side, her gaze
moving over him from head to heel, much the way he studied a woman
he was considering as prey.
Zack was contemplating what to do next
when she moved away from the window. Moments later, she was
standing on the front porch, her arms folded under her
breasts.
“What are you doing here?” she
demanded.
Her voice was low, soft, and yet he
detected a fine layer of steel underneath. He grunted softly. Most
women would have been frightened if they looked out their window at
midnight and found a stranger standing in the yard. But she wasn’t
the least bit afraid.
He had to admire that. Inclining his
head, he murmured, “Good evening.”
She lifted one delicate brow. “I
repeat, what are you doing here?”
“Merely enjoying the night air,” he
replied with a smile. “And I repeat, good evening.” He frowned,
mystified by his inability to read her mind. It was a skill that
had never failed him before and left him wondering if she was
deliberately blocking him, and if so, how?
She huffed a sigh of exasperation.
“Same to you.”
“You’re new in the area,” he
said.
Kaitlyn nodded. He must be a longtime
resident, she thought, else he wouldn’t be aware of
that.
“It’s a lovely house,” he remarked. “I
had intended to buy it myself.”
“Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry. Our town can
always use another pretty face.” He took a step forward, extending
his hand. “Zackary Ravenscroft,” he said. “But my friends call me
Zack.”
She descended the stairs. “Do you think
we’re going to be friends?” she murmured, taking his
hand.
“I hope so.”
“I’m Kaitlyn Sherrad.”
He gave her hand a slight squeeze.
“Kaitlyn.”
She didn’t know if it was the sound of
her name on his lips, or the touch of his hand on hers that sent a
shiver of excitement racing down her spine. Startled, she jerked
her hand from his and took a step backward. Who was this guy? She
had never experienced a reaction like that with any other man.
Stranger still was the bewildering fact that she couldn’t divine
his thoughts. She supposed there were bound to be a few people
whose minds she couldn’t read; still, it was disconcerting. Was
there something wrong with him, she wondered, or was the problem
hers? She would have to ask her father about it the next time he
called.
Needing time to ponder her odd reaction
to Zackary Ravenscroft and her failure to read his thoughts,
Kaitlyn bid him a quick good night and hurried up the stairs and
into the house. She closed and locked the door, then stood there,
her back pressed against the wood. Who was that guy?
Zack stared after her for several
moments before he turned and headed back down the trail toward the
casino.
Kaitlyn Sherrad was a puzzle, he mused,
and he hated puzzles.