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don’t sound convinced. Just give her a trial run, and most importantly, watch Jude. In a week, if things don’t seem significantly different with him, I’ll think of a way to let our Ms. O’Brien slip away.” “Right.” He allowed her fingers to slide from his and straightened. “Has Delilah called lately?”
    She scowled. “Vexatious creature. She called last week, and I forgot to give you the message.”
    “Conveniently,” he murmured.
    “I can’t pretend to like her. She has radar, you know. The minute you get antsy, here she comes. She makes Jude uncomfortable, Gideon. She makes all of us uncomfortable.” “But she’s a necessary evil.” He moved away from her, shame rifling the edge of his conscience. “She doesn’t have to come here. I can meet her somewhere else.” He drew a breath and envisioned Delilah, all creamy, porcelain blonde, lush desire and rapier-sharp intent. Pure selfishness laced with malice. He stepped carefully with her, and took from her what he needed, to their mutual satisfaction. And right now he needed so desperately, he could hardly think. Her blood on his tongue, her limbs twined around him, the scalding heat of her body when he drove himself into her and pushed them both into orgasmic release. He could be as rough as he wanted with Delilah, and it was never violent enough.
    He was a vampire. Chastity did not suit him.
    “Do me a favor,” he said, staring out the windows at the placid, cerulean water of the swimming pool.
    “When Delilah calls again, put her through.”
     
     
     
    Dusk fell like a wave of mist over Sister Oaks, the strangest fog bank Kate had ever seen. She stared at it in the failing light, watching it undulate around her knees in slow, swirling wisps as she crossed the lawn.
    The same mist that had danced around the strong, bare legs of the midnight swimmer.
    Glancing up at the house, she noted that several balconied windows on the upper floors glowed with golden warmth. Gideon was up there somewhere. She hadn’t seen him leave the house. A glossy black sedan, the only vehicle parked in the four-car carriage house near the mansion, hadn’t moved today. She assumed it was his.
    Martha Shelton drove a commonsensical white econo-box; Kate remembered it from their first meeting in Richmond. It was parked in the circular driveway when she rounded the corner, stolid and unimaginative, a comical incongruity in the mansion’s hulking shadow.
    Swiping a violet-tipped weed from the boxwoods, Kate twirled it between her fingers as she walked, playing and replaying the morning’s wild hallucination in her mind.
    Whatever had happened to her in that library was not paranormal, or ghostly, but purely physical. A dip in blood sugar, maybe. Or a surge of PMS. She still felt lightheaded if she moved her eyes too quickly.
    Getting sick now would be a fine accompaniment to the self-doubt that had nagged her all afternoon, and she prayed it wasn’t some sort of spring flu.
    Experimentally, she skimmed the memory of his kiss and a jolt of desire fired her through her like a distant lightning bolt.
    Spring flu doesn’t make you go all wet and wanting.
    None of it was her fault. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling she’d done something wrong in Gideon’s presence. So they’d shared a few harmless, flirtatious exchanges…big deal. Anyway, he’d started it.
    Whatever had irked him, it was his problem and she could definitely keep her distance. She was there to focus on Jude, and winning him over was a much greater concern than his father’s state of mind.
    She hesitated at the front door, unsure of whether to knock. Everything about this house seemed impenetrable; she felt like an intruder as she twisted the knob, leaned her shoulder against the wood and pushed. The door gave with a heavy groan, and she stepped inside and closed it with a firm thrust of her backside. Her gaze landed on the disconcerting hunt scene hanging above the landing.
    The hound to the