At Twilight

by Maggie Shayne

  She replaced the receiver before he could make her any angrier, and

  headed upstairs to follow her own advice about the hot bath.

  As for straight to bed, she knew better.

  At work she’d been on the verge of falling asleep on her feet all

  day.

  Now that she was home she felt wide awake and brimming with energy-She

  toweled herself dry after a soothing, if not a relaxing, soak, and

  pulled on a pair of comfortable jeans and a baggy sweater.

  She wriggled her feet into her heaviest socks and halfheartedly dried

  her hair, before padding downstairs to hunt for something to fill her

  empty stomach.

  She’d just settled on the sofa in the huge living room with a thick

  bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich sliced diagonally on a paper plate,

  and a can of cola, when the doorbell chimed.

  Tamara rolled her eyes, lowered the sandwich she’d just brought to her

  lips and went to open the door.

  Her irritation disappeared when Eric Marquand stepped over the

  threshold into the foyer.

  She slammed the door after giving a fear-filled glance down the

  driveway, and looked at him agape.

  “You shouldn’t be here, Eric. My God, if Daniel saw you here, he’d

  have a stroke!”

  “He won’t. He and Rogers will remain on sentry duty outside my front

  gate until dawn, as they do every night, I promise you. They did not

  see me leave.

  I took great pains to assure that.”

  She stood still, fighting the bubbling sense of joy she felt at seeing

  him, arguing inwardly that it made no sense to feel so about a

  stranger.

  It was there, all the same.

  “After my behavior last night, I half expected you to throw me out.

  Will you, Tamara?”

  She tried to tug her gaze free of his, but was unsuccessful.

  “I … no. No, I’m not going to throw you out. Come in.

  I was about to have a sandwich.

  Can I make one for you?

  ” He shook his head.

  “I’ve already dined. If I’m interrupting your dinner…”

  She shook her head quickly.

  “No, I mean, you can hardly call a sandwich and a cola dinner.”

  He followed her into the living room and sat beside her on the sofa,

  despite the fact that she’d waved her arm toward a chair nearby.

  She reached for the dewy can.

  “I could get you one.”

  “Thank you, no.”

  He cleared his throat.

  “I’ve come because…”

  He shook his head.

  “Actually, there is no other reason, except that I couldn’t stay

  away.

  Tamara, will you come out with me tonight? I give you my word, I will

  say nothing against your St. Claire. I’ll ask you no questions about

  DPI. I only want your companionship.”

  She smiled, then stopped herself.

  Did she dare go out with him?

  After all the warnings Daniel had given her about him?

  Eric took her hand in his, his thumb slowly stroking the tops of her

  fingers.

  “If you cannot believe my charges against him, Tamara, you should

  equally doubt his against me. It is only fair.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “I guess you’re right. Okay. I’ll come with you.”

  She stood quickly, more eager than she wanted him to see.

  “Should I change? Where are we going?”

  “You are beautiful as you are, sweet. Would you mind if we simply went

  driving until something better occurs to us? I don’t wish to share you

  with a crowd just yet.”

  “Okay. I’ll grab my coat and… Driving? I didn’t see a car. How

  will we” — “Finish your sandwich, Tamara. It is a surprise.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from smiling fully at that, and for a moment

  he seemed almost staggered by it.

  “I’m not hungry, anyway,” she told him, rushing past him to the foyer

  and the closet near the front door.

  “I was only eating to fill the loneliness.”

  She tugged on her heaviest coat, a long hounds tooth check, with a

  black woolly scarf around the collar and matching mittens in the

  pocket.

  She stomped into her boots.

  When she looked up again he was staring at her.

  “Have you been lonely, then?”

  he asked softly.

  She blinked back the instant moisture that sprang to her eyes at the

  question.

  It never occurred to her to lie to him.

  “I often think I’m the loneliest person I know. Oh, I’ve got Daniel,

  and a few friends at work, but…”

  She looked into his eyes and knew he’d understand.

  “I’m not like them. I feel set apart, like there’s an invisible

  barrier between us.”

  She frowned.

  “I don’t feel that way with you.”

  His eyes closed slowly, and opened again.

  Flustered more than a little bit, she hurried through the room and took

  the telephone off the hook.

  Without an explanation she trotted upstairs to her room and spent a few

  minutes stuffing spare blankets underneath her comforter, to make it

  look as if she were asleep there.

  She shut off her bedroom light and closed the door.

  When she turned, Eric stood there.

  One brow lifted as he looked down at her.

  “For St. Claire’s benefit?”

  “This way I can relax and enjoy our evening,” she said softly, her gaze

  lingering on his lips for a long moment; She saw his Adam’s apple move

  as he swallowed.

  When she lifted her gaze to his eyes, she saw they were focused on her

  lips, and her tongue darted out involuntarily to moisten them.

  “I promised myself I wouldn’t touch you tonight,” he told her in a

  voice softer than a whisper.

  “But I don’t believe I can prevent myself kissing you.”

  “You’re bound to, sooner or later,” she told him, striving to keep her

  own voice level.

  “Maybe we ought to get it out of the way now.”

  He stood perfectly still, not a single muscle moving.

  She stepped forward, tilted her head back and touched his lips with

  hers.

  She felt him tremble when she settled her hands on his rock-solid

  shoulders.

  She let her eyes fall closed, parted her lips against his and

  tentatively slid the tip of her tongue over them.

  He sighed into her mouth as his arms came around her waist to crush her

  against him.

  The pressure of his lips forced hers to part for him, and he tasted

  every bit of her mouth, even reaching his tongue to the back of her

  throat in a forceful, thrusting motion that hinted at far greater

  pleasures to come.

  His hands moved over her body, one holding her to him while the other

  tangled in her hair, pulling her head back farther to accommodate that

  probing tongue more deeply.

  She felt his hot arousal pressing into her belly, telling her how much

  he wanted her.

  She moved her hips against him, to let him know she felt the same

  mindless need.

  When the fire in her blood raged out of control he pulled away,

  panting.

  “This is not the w
ay, Tamara.

  With everything in me, I want to take you right here.

  I want to lift you to the wall, or take you on the floor, damn-lit.

  But it is not the way.

  You might hate me tomorrow, when the fire no longer burns in your

  eyes.

  ” He stroked the hair away from her face. He pressed his lips to each

  eye in turn.

  “Agree with me, before I lose control.”

  Tamara’s body was screaming that she wanted him to lose control.

  Her mind knew he was right.

  She didn’t know him.

  She had once, she was certain of it now.

  But she couldn’t remember that.

  It would be like making love to a stranger, and that would make her

  feel cheap and ashamed.

  She stepped away from him.

  “You’re right. I—I’m sorry.”

  “Never apologize for kissing me, for touching me, Tamara. Your caress

  is a gift worthy of any king… one I will be grateful for whenever you

  choose to bestow it.”

  Eric could barely bring himself to stop what she’d started in St

  Claire’s corridor.

  He’d only just restrained himself in time.

  The desire she stirred in him was a beast he could hardly subdue.

  He had to, though.

  The blood lust in him intertwined with sexual desire.

  The two were so closely linked among his kind that there was no

  separating them.

  If he took her, he’d take her blood as well as her body.

  She’d know the truth then, and she’d despise him forever.

  Or worse.

  No.

  he refused to believe she could be party to Daniel St Claire’s

  machinations.

  Refusing to believe it does not make it impossible.

  If she was plotting his destruction, he’d know, he reminded himself as

  he descended the stairs beside her.

  He’d see it in her mind.

  Vampires can learn to guard their thoughts.

  Why not her?

  She is no vampire, he thought angrily.

  I’ve never known a human to be capable of such a thing.

  You ‘we never known a human like Tamara.

  At the bottom of the stairway Eric glimpsed a light glowing beyond a

  doorway at the far side.

  She’d flicked off every other glaring electric light she’d come to, so

  he touched her shoulder now, and pointed.

  “Do you wish to shut that light off, as well?”

  She shook her head quickly, opened her mouth to explain, then seemed to

  think better of it.

  Not before Eric heard what was in her mind, however.

  To go through that door was forbidden to her.

  St.

  Claire’s basement lab lay at the bottom of the staircase there, and

  he’d deemed it off limits.

  Eric would have liked to go down there now, to examine the ruthless

  scientist’s files and equipment.

  But he’d given Tamara his word that he’d come here only to be with

  her.

  How could she believe him if he betrayed her trust in such a way?

  He’d spoken the truth when he’d spoken those words, yet he could’ve

  told her more.

  He wanted to be with her because he feared for her safety.

  That St Claire had known of the connection between them from the start

  was obvious.

  He’d orchestrated events to gain custody of the child, Eric felt

  certain of it.

  Whether to brainwash her into helping him in his plots or to use her as

  unwitting bait remained to be seen.

  Either way, though, Tamara was no more to St Claire than a pawn in a

  high-stakes game.

  She could not be safe with him.

  That Eric had to leave her side by day had him at his wits’ end, but

  what choice did he have?

  He would stay by her side when he could, and he’d try to learn exactly

  what St.

  Claire had on his mind.

  He’d protect Tamara if he had to kill the bastard himself.

  In the three times Eric had seen her since returning from his travels,

  he’d learned one thing he hadn’t fully realized before.

  He still adored her.

  The emotions had changed, radically.

  She was no longer the small child in need of bedtime stories and

  lullabies.

  She was a woman grown, a woman of incomparable beauty and incredible

  passion.

  a woman capable of setting his pulse throbbing in his temples, and his

  blood to boiling for want of her.

  He knew what he felt for her.

  He understood it.

  Constantly he needed to remind himself that she did not.

  She couldn’t, nor could she fathom her own feelings for him.

  To her, he was a stranger.

  at least until her memory returned, and until she became aware that she

  could know anything about him simply by searching his mind.

  Now, though, at this moment, he was a stranger.

  He hoped to remedy that to some extent tonight.

  She locked the door, pocketed the key and turned toward him.

  Eric allowed himself the pleasure of encircling her shoulders with his

  arm.

  No matter how good his intentions, it seemed he couldn’t prevent

  himself from touching her, holding her close whenever possible.

  Her coat was too thick for his liking.

  He could scarcely feel the shape of her beneath it.

  He urged her down the curving driveway, and felt her start in surprise

  when she caught sight of the vehicle that awaited her there.

  One horse’s ears pricked forward and his head came up at the sound of

  their approach.

  Tamara stopped walking to turn wide eyes toward Eric.

  He smiled at the delight he saw in them.

  “I thought a sleigh would be more enjoyable than any other mode of

  transportation,” he said.

  Her smile took his breath away, and she hurried forward, sending a

  powdery blizzard ahead of her as she plowed through the five inches of

  new snow on the ground.

  She stood in front of the black, speaking softly, for the horse’s ears

  only, and stroking his muzzle.

  He blew in appreciation.

  Eric joined her there a second later.

  “This is Max. He’s a gelding, and I think he’s as enchanted by his

  first glimpse of you as I was.”

  She glanced up, meeting his eyes, her own acknowledging the compliment,

  before Eric continued.

  “And this” — he moved toward the golden palomino beside Max “—is

  Melinda, his partner.”

  Tamara stepped to the side and stroked Melinda’s sleek neck.

  “She’s beautiful—they both are. Are they yours, Eric?”

  “Unfortunately, no. I was able to rent them for the night.”

  He watched the emotions in her face and felt those in her mind as she

  touched and caressed one horse, then the other.

  “I’m thinking of buying them, though,” he added.

  It was true.

  The moment he’d seen her joy at the sight of the animals, he’d wanted

  to own them.

  “Oh?”

  Her attention was, at last, on him again.

  “Do you have a stable?”

  “I’ll have one built,” he announced.

  She laughed as he took her arm and led her around the horses, to h
elp

  her into the sleigh.

  Eric climbed in beside her and picked up the reins.

  “I’ve always loved horses. When I was a little girl I wanted to own a

  ranch, where I could raise them by the hundreds.”

  Eric nodded.

  He remembered her love of horses.

  He’d hoped it still existed.

  He snapped the reins lightly and clicked his tongue.

  The sleigh jerked into motion, and Tamara settled back against the

  cushioned seat.

  He took them off the paved road as soon as possible, onto a snow-coated

  side road that was barely more than a path.

  He watched her more often than the road ahead.

  She remarked on everything with little sighs of pleasure—the full moon

  glistening on the snow, making it sparkle as if it held tiny diamonds

  just beneath the surface, the ice-coated branches that made ugly, bare

  limbs turn into sculpted crystal.

  The crisp, clean air that touched her face, and the scent of the

  horses’ warm bodies.

  Eric nodded in agreement, but in truth he was aware of none of it.

  It was her scent that enveloped him.

  It was seeing the way the chill breeze played with her hair and

  reddened her cheeks and the tip of her nose that entranced him.

  He felt only the warmth of her body, pressed alongside his own, and saw

  the moonlight glistening in her eyes, rather than upon the snow.

  Beyond the rhythmic thudding of the horses’ hooves he heard the music

  in her voice.

  Her arm was wrapped around his, and her head rested upon his

  shoulder.

  “This is wonderful, Eric. It’s the most fun I’ve had in…”

  She blinked and considered a moment.

  “I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed a night this much.”

  “Nor I,” he whispered, certain it was true.

  “But you must tell me if you grow tired, or I’ll likely keep you out

  all night.”

  “I don’t get tired at night. Not ever. I haven’t slept a night

  through in over a month… closer to two. So if you want to keep me

  out all night, I’ll be more than willing.”

  She seemed so exuberant and happy.

  Yet he worried about this sleeplessness.

  She’d mentioned it before.

  “Are you able to sleep by day, then?”

  “No, I have to work.

  I usually catch a few hours in the afternoon, though.

  ” She tipped her head up and saw his frown. ” Do I look like I’m

  suffering from exhaustion to you?

  ” “Quite the opposite,” he admitted.

  She settled against him again, then straightened, snapping her