But as she walked, she sensed a presence, an energy that made her senses spike and all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She was being watched. But it wasn’t fear that quickened her pulse, it was excitement.
Glancing to her left, she saw a tall figure standing in a doorway.
He stepped forward, and her heart rejoiced. It was Oliver. Gaunt and achingly beautiful, his dark eyes gleaming in the arc of light from the streetlamp.
“Sir.” She heard herself giggle like an infatuated schoolgirl. “I can’t get used to calling you anything else, can I?”
“Clearly not,” he said drily. “It appears my cab is unlikely to arrive. I have been waiting here a while. But maybe you will have better luck.”
She sensed he had not been waiting for a cab.
She slid her phone back into her purse.
She had no desire to call a cab, and every desire to linger in his presence.
“Actually, I think I shall walk home. I don’t live far away, just a short walk through the cemetery.
“Perhaps not the best route to take at this time of night.”
Her lips quirked. “I am a pretty seasoned cop.”
“But you are in civilian dress. A very fetching dress, I may add, but not great for running or karate moves.”
“I have my wits about me always, sir.”
“Commendable.” He huffed a sigh, like she was slightly burdensome. “My home is west of the cemetery, I may as well walk with you.” When she didn’t answer, simply because her heart was pounding too hard, he added, “If you are not averse to my company?”
The thought of his body so close to hers in the balmy night air was intoxicating. But she tried to sound casual as she said, “Not averse at all. I can keep a watch out for both of our safety.”
He laughed, a deep baritone chuckle that belied his tall sinewy frame, his refined features.
As they set off, it occurred to her that he almost glided, his footsteps barely making a sound on the path. And yet, his energy, conversely, was heavy and sensual, dark and full of latent power.
Like he could envelop her, possess her and yet leave no mark of his presence.
Right now, it was so tempting to just sink into the moment, forget there would be a tomorrow when Oliver Hale would once again be her boss.
Not this man who she hungered for.
He’s not a man, remember.
Glancing up, she saw there was no moon in the sky, and once through the gates of the cemetery and away from the streetlamps, it was as if they’d been swallowed into a womb of darkness.
The feel of the graveyard was almost cloying. The scent of damp dead leaves and creepers, the soil enriched by ancient bones, assailed her nostrils. It slightly unnerved her. Ridiculous—graveyards had never bothered her before, but now it was almost like the pressure of dead souls were heaving inside those graves, begging for release. Gingerly, Clare placed one foot in front of the other. She’d heard somewhere that vampires could see perfectly in the dark and damn it, after her cockiness, she wasn’t going to admit she couldn’t see an inch in front of her nose.
And then she stumbled, and immediately Oliver’s hand was on her elbow, catching her before she pitched forward onto the gravel.
“Okay, there?” he purred, close to her ear.
A delicious shiver passed through her body. And when he didn’t let go of her arm, she allowed herself to lean into him, just enough to herald that she was open to more.
As if reading her mind, he took her hand, looped it through his and sandwiched it tight to his side. She barely breathed, feeling the warmth of his torso through his jacket.
Sparks ignited inside her, heat pooled between her legs.
“Are you afraid?” he asked softly, close to her ear.
“No.” Okay, that was a small lie, but it was a fear she welcomed.
