He blinked, and she decided she must have been imagining it.
“I’m afraid you are mistaking coincidences for something greater. And as for interviews, I have nothing I want to say.”
He turned on his heel to walk away, and she curled her hands into fists.
“Where were you last night, Nathan?”
He whirled around, expression angry. “None of your concern.”
She shook her head, pulling a few news articles out of her jacket. “It has to be someone’s concern! Look. You’re here and here and here.” She pointed to the photos and then tossed them on the ground in front of him.
His lip curled, but she knew she had at least gotten his attention. His handsome face, with its sharp, straight features, looked even harsher than before.
“So you might as well give me an interview,” she said. “Because you aren’t going to get rid of me until you do.”
And then she stared up into his cold, dark eyes, and a frisson of danger ran up her spine, making her wonder if she’d just made an epic miscalculation.
Chapter 2
Nathan couldn’t believe the audacity of the human before him.
Had he really cultivated such a gentle persona that people thought it was this safe to approach him? To invade his space, to call him out, to imply he was some sort of criminal?
Then again, it had never happened before, and he had to admit it was sort of refreshing in an odd way.
When you lived as long as he had, things tended to get boring, and this journalist, with her accusations and penchant for sneaking into his building, was something he had never encountered.
He looked down at the articles scattered across the previously immaculate marble and bent to retrieve them, looking through them one at a time.
He easily located himself in each of them and wasn’t sure why anyone hadn’t noticed before.
Perhaps no one had been looking.
But she had.
He eyed her carefully, noting each aspect of her appearance. Ill-fitting coat. Baggy-looking clothes underneath. The models who usually came on to him were perfectly coiffed, leggy, and so thin as to make him afraid to hold them.
This woman wouldn’t give him the same kind of concern.
She was thick, curvaceous. He could tell even beneath that travesty of an outfit.
And her hair was wild; he liked that. Curls were perfect for winding around his fingers in the darkness.
She is entertaining; that is certain, he thought as he stepped forward and then slowly walked around her.
As her dark, greenish-brown eyes widened in alarm, he felt a little excitement wake inside him.
Last night, he’d thought he lost everything. All hope of a purpose in this world. All hope of fitting in.
Life looked as if it would be one long trudge toward an ending that would never come.
But now that he had nothing to live for, why not take some time off to fool around with a mortal?
It was something he’d never tried before.
He reached forward and caught her by the chin, enjoying the way she tried to jerk back. “Look at me.”
She stopped moving, but there was murder in her eyes. “Let me go or I sue you for assault.”
“For barely touching you?” He released her, shaking his head. “You are the one trespassing in my building, and I think the cops will be sympathetic.”
She bit her lip as she glared at him. She was a hunter. She liked being the one in control, the one making others uncomfortable.
That was something he understood.
But perhaps she wasn’t the right person to mess with. And perhaps he shouldn’t be involving a human in his life right now when things were so much in flux.
He took a step back, pondering.
And when she looked up at him, confused and still a little angry, he felt a shockwave go through him as one of his visions started.
He put a hand to his head and turned away, letting the forced images and sounds play through his mind.
Her face, terrified. Darkness. Running. And then pitch black.
He whirled to face her, looking her up and down, suddenly feeling a renewed interest. “You said your name was Lillian?”
She hesitated, stepping back toward the elevator. “I think maybe I’m just going to go.”
He shoved the news articles toward her as he approached, putting them into her hands. “But don’t you want answers?”
“I thought you didn’t want to give an interview,” she said.
“I may be willing, but I have conditions.”
She frowned, and he enjoyed the look of her full lips, the expressiveness of her large eyes as she considered her options.
She really was beautiful, just in a very different way than he was used to. He’d become almost numb to the advances of the women around him. This one didn’t even seem to want him that way, yet he felt drawn to her.
She still looked as though she was going to run, so he simply relaxed and put his hands back in his pockets.
“You’re really going to give up on the interview you’ve been working so hard to get? Before you even know what my conditions are?”
“You’re weirder than I thought,” she said, a bit shaken.
That much from simply touching her chin? He wanted to know how she’d react to more.
But he would wait until she was amenable, because forcing females was something he had zero interest in.
“Weirder than you thought when you saw I was appearing at crime scenes?”
She nodded. “There’s a strange feeling about you. Something I couldn’t get from pictures. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“You don’t even want to know my terms?”
She hesitated. “What are they?”
“I’ll give an interview, but only if you come to my place.”
“But I…”
“I insist. I can’t talk to you here, or every journalist will think that whoever sneaks in can get ahold of me. Plus, my secretaries will think I’m insane for talking to someone who just broke into my building.”
She looked slightly abashed. “It was the only way…”
“I know. And now this is the only way to interview me.” He took out a business card and wrote his home address on it. He wasn’t sure why he trusted her with it, but he just did.
Besides, there was nothing in this world that could hurt him anymore, and anything that did happen would probably just be a good distraction from his depression.
“Come at seven sharp.”
Then he turned on his heel to go back to his office.
“You assume too much,” she called after him, sounding frustrated.
He turned back to face her. “I don’t think so. See you tonight.”
And as a deep flush worked its way into her face and she stepped back and into the elevator, he felt excitement begin to well up inside him.
Excitement and something else that was a little more cautious.
As the elevator doors closed, taking her out of view, he was sure of two things.
The first was he wanted her, which was odd because he’d never wanted anyone in that way.
The second was, without his interference, she was definitely doomed to die.
* * *
Lillian finished pulling her hair into a tight ponytail that mostly restrained her unruly, dark curls and stared at herself in the bathroom mirror.
Wearing a professional-looking button-up shirt and a fitted pair of slacks should hopefully send the right message to Nathan Lancaster that she was there for nothing but a story.
Then again, with his pick of runway models, why would he have any reason to get ideas about a chubby journalist?
“So you’re really going, then?” Sasha, her roommate, a sweet, curvy blonde who was a gentle as she looked, walked into the bathroom, a nervous look in her gray-blue eyes.
“Of course,” Lillian said, putting a hand on her roommate’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “It�
��s the opportunity of a lifetime. I can’t miss it.” She walked out into the living room and stretched before grabbing her purse.
Sasha followed hesitantly. “You know, what if it’s a set-up or something? What if a man like that is used to taking whatever he wants, and he’s… You know. Planning something.” Sasha bit her full lower lip, genuinely concerned for her roommate.
Lillian took a seat on the couch and motioned for Sasha to join her. “We’ve been friends a long time, right?”
“Yes.”
“And have you ever known me to get into trouble?”
Sasha shook her head. “But you almost have. True, it was usually trying to help out other people who were already in trouble, but I worry that you don’t even think about yourself.”
“That’s not true,” Lillian said. “I’m thinking about myself right now and how I need to get this story.”
“Because you’re worried this guy could be hurting someone.” Sasha picked up one of the couch pillows and hugged it to her chest. “I mean, you think he’s some sort of criminal or vigilante and you’re going over to his mansion?”
“You know where I’m going to be,” Lillian said. “If I disappear, you can notify the police. But honestly, Nathan Lancaster has far more to lose than I do. He has a philanthropic empire and the world slobbering at his feet. He’s not going to risk all that attacking some lowly journalist. Even if he was evil, which I doubt.” Lillian rested her chin on her palm thoughtfully. Meeting Nathan had been nothing like she’d imagined.
Yes, he’d been tall and handsome and smelled all too good.
But there had been something else about him. A quiet intensity that made her want to shrink back when nothing else ever had.
But she didn’t think he was evil. She had a feeling there was some kind of explanation for why he was always at crime or disaster scenes, and tonight she would hopefully find it.
Her gut said she would be safe tonight, but even if she wasn’t, she couldn’t resist the chance to get this elusive look into the billionaire’s life.
“But what if he does this to other journalists?” Sasha asked carefully. “What if he promises them exclusives just to woo them? What if he’s some kind of sicko?”
“Then he could have done something to me right there in his building. No one else was around to stop him.”
Sasha nodded. “Okay. But I want you to text me every half hour so I know you’re all right.”
Lillian sighed. “Every hour.”
Sasha narrowed her eyes. “You better not miss any.”
Lillian laughed, enfolding her friend in a hug. “You’re a good friend, Sash. I’ll tell you everything when you get back.”
“If you survive,” Sasha said gloomily.
“Perk up,” Lillian said, playing with one of Sasha’s curls. “We’ll go clubbing later this week. Get you a hookup.”
“You know I’m not like that. You aren’t either.”
Lillian frowned. “No, I’m too busy with work. But you look stressed. You should get out more.”
“I’m happy as I am,” Sasha said, pushing her glasses up over her delicate nose. “And you are going to be late for your interview.”
“Right,” Lillian said, patting her leg. “I’m off, then. Wish me luck.”
Sasha stood and waved. “I hope you don’t need it.”
“Thanks.” Lillian straightened her back as she opened the door and walked through it into the cool evening air. She walked briskly down to where her car was parked in the lot and quickly started it up.
As she pulled out, her heart began racing and she gave herself a reassuring look in the mirror. Now that she was really doing this, she was actually starting to feel nervous.
And letting that show was the last thing a hard-hitting journalist could afford.
As she drove in the deepening darkness, Sasha’s words began to haunt her. For a librarian, Sasha had a pretty dark imagination, and even though Lillian figured Nathan Lancaster had much better people to mess with than her, she couldn’t help wondering what his real reason was for bringing her to his house.
Was he more comfortable there? Was there something secret he could show her? Surely he wouldn’t do that right after meeting her.
But anyway, Sasha knew where she was, and she would also let Nathan know that.
She turned up the music and rolled down the window, letting rock tunes blast over her along with cool mountain air as she drove farther into the hills above the city.
This area was where all the rich people lived.
It was beautiful, with woods and little private roads in all directions, and she had to admit, had she chosen a different, more lucrative career, it would have been cool to live out here.
Not that she would change anything about her life with Sasha.
Soon enough, the GPS announced the road that would take her up to Nathan, and she realized as she turned onto a narrow, well-paved lane what a risk he was taking in trusting her with his address.
She was, after all, a stranger to him, by all rights and purposes.
Despite her best efforts, her heart was pounding harder now, and she tried to calm herself. No matter what she felt, she couldn’t show Nathan.
She had to keep the upper hand, and she hadn’t done the best job of it before.
If she was getting all flustered, she wouldn’t be able to remember to ask all her questions and get to the bottom of a mystery that had been bothering her for months.
As she drove out of a clearing and looked up to see what must have been Nathan’s house on the top of a hill, she couldn’t help slowing the car slightly and letting out a gasp.
Holy crap, was this all for one person? What did he need with so much space?
It was private, for sure, she thought as she drove up to a large, wrought iron gate and looked for an entry pad.
But as she approached, it opened inwardly automatically, allowing her to drive through.
So he really was expecting her.
The cocky look on his face earlier that day had said as much.
Oh hell, what did she have to complain about? She’d literally snuck into his building to get time with him, and now she would get all the time in the world in his personal place.
So why did she sort of feel like a rabbit hopping toward a trap?
But her curiosity wouldn’t allow her to turn back, so upward she drove until she reached a large, circular driveway in front of a set of elegant stairs that led up to a hand-carved entrance.
Despite the entry, the mansion was remarkably modern, blocky with sharp edges and oddly protruding balconies and offset floors. It was made of some kind of white stone that glittered in the moonlight, and she’d never seen anything like it before.
She gaped for a moment and then opened the door and stepped out of her car into the freshest, coolest night air she’d ever smelled. Things really were different up here on the mountain.
She straightened her shirt and pushed her purse up on her shoulder, then walked up the stairs to the giant door.
She raised her hand to grab the knocker but felt the heavy door creak before she could even knock.
Of course he knew she was here. He’d opened the gate for her.
She gulped as the door slowly opened, revealing her host, Nathan Lancaster.
He was wearing sweats under a dark-purple dressing gown, and his dark hair was perfectly coiffed. His glittering blue eyes were dark with amusement, and a muscle ticked in his hard, perfect jaw.
“Lillian. I’m glad you came.”
Chapter 3
God, he was perfect. And dangerous.
And if she had even one brain cell that knew what was good for her, she would walk away and never come back here.
But instead, she took a breath and walked in.
She was surprised to see a beautiful kitchen to the right and a dining room with a table set for two. The room smelled delicious, like spiced meat and some kind of vegetables, and she followed Nathan as he quietly l
ed the way to the table and then pulled out her chair.
She sat, feeling awkwardly like his guest—or a date—when really, she was here to grill him.
“Mr. Lancaster, I—”
He put up a hand as he took his seat. “First, we eat. I worked hard on this.”
She looked around them, almost expecting a team of servants. She tentatively removed the cover over her plate, following him doing the same, and was taken aback by the beautiful dinner in front of her.
A perfectly cooked steak, grilled asparagus, fluffy mashed potatoes. She picked up a fork, deciding there was no way he would be trying to poison her. After all, he had begun eating his, too.
She groaned as the first bite melted over her taste buds and sent him a semi-grateful, semi-exasperated expression. “So you can cook? What can’t you do?”
He smiled mildly, setting down his fork and facing her with that calm, ever-present intensity. “I don’t start fires.”
She nearly choked on her food and had to hit her chest a couple times as she coughed. “No, I didn’t mean it like—”
He leaned forward, intertwining his fingers. He wasn’t the biggest man she’d ever seen in terms of pure bulk. He was muscular and tall, yes, but lean, also. Fit.
Yet he felt like the most dangerous man she’d ever encountered. Not that she currently felt any danger to herself.
“What did you mean, then, Lillian? Because when you throw news articles about fires at my feet and tell me I’m in all of them and you suspect me for it, I assume you are saying I’m responsible in some way.”
“That doesn’t mean you start them,” she said, taking another bite. “You could pay someone else to just because you like to watch.”
He raised an eyebrow in disdain. “Why would I enjoy that?”
She pointed her fork at him. “You could be a sadist. Or something like that.”
He snorted, then let out a chuckle. “I don’t think so.” Then he went back to his steak, cutting it quietly and eating as silence fell over the dining room.
She was a journalist. She should be asking more questions, but somehow he managed to make her feel awful for even wondering what he was doing at those scenes.
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