Midnight Lover. Rosemary Laurey
to your father tomorrow.” Even if he had to make it up.
Toby had to smile overhearing Laura assure the day nurse that Piet had a “quiet” night. Piet had to be the only member of the household who hadn’t gone through menace, shock, fright or unarmed combat in the past twelve hours.
Toby took his phone out onto the terrace and sat gazing at the ocean for several minutes before punching a number into his speed dial. He had no idea what Vlad would do or might expect him to do, but having another Radcliffe in the vicinity was a coincidence that could not be ignored.
“So…” Vlad said after Toby finished. He’d left out most of the events of the evening, focusing on what Vlad needed to know. “You’re convinced I’ve another rogue vampire squatting in my territory?”
Having Laran, and now Axel, undetected no doubt stuck in the Lord of Wallachia’s craw. “It’s a rather incredible coincidence, don’t you think? Seems like a similar setup, getting the confidence and gratitude of a mortal and then using him. I plan on going over there and seeing what I can find out.”
“Let me know what you discover. If he is a vampire, I’ll send an emissary to him for tribute. Might use that French revenant, Larouselière. He helped over the other Radcliffe, I believe.”
He’d shared information. Hadn’t exactly rolled up his sleeves or dirtied his hands. “I’ll call as soon as I find anything more.”
“I’ll await your phone call, Wise. Good day.”
Adela paled ashen, as only a mortal could, when Toby recounted the unpleasant events of the night. She did manage a rather choked laugh over the chupacabra in the deputy’s cruiser. “He must have had a hissy fit when he found it.”
“I sincerely hope so. Unfortunately, I didn’t stay around to watch. I’d rather like to see the cop car in daylight. I bet it’s rather nasty. And I am looking forward to meeting the deputy again.”
“You’re going back?”
“We’re going back, just as soon as you have breakfast. As the good friend I am, I’ll drive you back home this morning. We’ll both express astonishment and horror at finding your house and car destroyed, and who better to explain what happened than the local arm of the law.” Sarcastic, but who cared? He smiled. “I will certainly encourage him to make a thorough investigation. A report will be needed for the insurance, of course, and”—he paused and chuckled—“if it does come to an enquiry, the traces of petrol, the tire marks in the road and over the grass, to say nothing of all the footprints, might really catch an arson investigator’s eye.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Her tone implied a definite disapproval.
“What I’m enjoying is the prospect of making a venal deputy squirm like a worm on a hook. Instead of protecting you, he threatened you, then oversaw the destruction of your home.”
“Gertrude’s home, actually, and her car.” Adela let out a slow sigh and shook her head. “How am I going to tell her?”
“Why don’t we discover what there is to tell first.” There was the outside chance a freak thunderstorm had extinguished the blaze. Unlikely but…
“Let’s set off now; forget breakfast.”
No, she needed food. She was mortal, after all. “We can leave now if you wish, but we’ll stop at one of those fast-food places and get you sustenance. Never actually had occasion to enter one myself, but I assume you know how they function.”
Most days Laura found the drive home, down the coast toward Florence, a nice, relaxing transition. Today it seemed each bend and twist mirrored her confusion. Her mind raced over the events of the night and the early morning, and what she did, or did not, feel toward Toby Wise.
Okay. He was handsome, charming and bedworthy in the extreme. He was genuinely concerned with Mr. Connor and considerate of the staff. But darn it, he was her employer and she’d resolutely shoved her attraction to the far recesses of her mind. She was not about to fall for an employer. That way lay misery, a broken heart and ultimately the need for a new job.
Trouble was, no matter how firm her resolve not to dwell on Toby’s all too apparent merits, her subconscious wasn’t getting the message. There had been the three dreams (she wasn’t likely to ever forget a single one). On three occasions when she’d dozed off during the still of the night, Toby starred in the colorful images of her REM sleep. She’d had a few fantasies in her time, but nothing as vivid as these. She’d felt his hands on her shoulders, his lips on her neck, the cool brush of his skin on hers and the blinding ecstasy of his kiss.
Yes, well. Dreams were dreams. All very nice and all that, but they were not the forefront of her worries right now. The events of last night and this morning were going to take all day to sort out.
When she reached Florence, instead of going straight home, she drove down to the river and parked overlooking the harbor. Morning sun glittering on the water should have calmed and relaxed her. It barely registered.
Why in Hades had she caved in to her father’s ridiculous suggestion? Because he was scared for his job and she loved him. Simple, stupid and inescapable. The paper had been her father’s and her grandfather’s passion; too bad Dad’s enthusiasm for journalism wasn’t matched with business sense. This new partner had bought into the paper for a fair price and kept Dad on as editor, but at what cost?
Her peace of mind, for a start.
And talking of peace of mind, would she ever know any again as long as the image of her employer standing square on the Oriental carpet, stark naked, was seared into her memory?
It was enough to give her brain fever. Heck, her heart rate soared when she was foolish enough to indulge in a glimpse of memory.
Tall, broad-shouldered and narrow-hipped, skin like dark satin, but instead of his usual calm smile, a look of utter outrage on his face.
It was like a twisted dream, but it had happened. She had no business being in Toby’s study, and he had every right to wander about his own rooms, naked, in the middle of the night, if he so chose. She’d been the one way out of line.
But his reaction mystified her.
Instead of firing her, Toby listened sympathetically (though how and why she’d spilled her guts quite so completely, she’d never know) and offered to help! How exactly he planned on producing some sort of mythical figures or papers to satisfy Dad beat her, but some deep instinct told her Toby Wise would not let her down.
Damn, the man was bedworthy, honorable, helpful and her boss. What an unsettling combination!
And even more unsettling: Her father’s car was parked in her driveway and he was waiting on the small rectangle of concrete that served as her front porch.
As she pulled off the road, he leapt off the porch and grabbed the door handle the minute she stopped. Before she turned the engine off, he had the door open. “You have what I need, Laura? Where is it?” His shaking hand grabbed her arm. “I must have it. Give it to me!”
“Dad! For heaven’s sake, let me get out of the car.”
He moved just enough for her to get her feet on the ground and stand but kept his hold. “What do you have, Laura?” He peered past her into the car. “Where is it?”
“I don’t have anything yet, Dad. I’ll try again tomorrow….”
“What do you mean?” His voice rose to a shriek. “You promised! I have to have it!” His lips trembled like a scared child’s and his eyes were wet with tears.
On top of last night, this was about all she could take. She shoved the door closed with her hip as he let out the first sob. “Get inside,” she insisted, more or less yanking him along.
As he collapsed, sobbing, onto the sofa, she sat beside him, awash with guilt at her irritation. Whatever was going