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men’s
dress shirt when she’d described the assassin she’d seen. As if
vampires really existed and went around killing people such as the
elder Carlotti sons. She’d actually stuttered just saying it.
Carlotti Senior had simply nodded sagely. Then his lips had thinned
and he’d waved his guards back. He’d thanked her for the
information. Said he had what he needed now. Her job was finished.
He’d handed her a check for her fee that included such an
outrageous bonus she was almost afraid of cashing it, got on his
cell, and instructed someone to contact a firm named V.A.L.,
whatever that was. She hadn’t heard more. She didn’t want to.
Someone had taken her elbow to escort her to a limo, and after a
short drive, she’d been deposited on the steps of this hotel, and
left to find her room. And get some rest. Before her five-thirty
wake-up call, the early flight back home, and normalcy.
    Watching old, black-and-white movies on the
over-sized flat-screen LED television monitor hadn’t worked.
Exercise was useless as well. She should be exhausted. She’d
visited the hotel gym for over an hour, spent another hour walking
the halls of every floor. Twice. And then she’d tackled the
emergency exit stairs. Once down. Then up. Her thighs had jittered
from the exercise as she’d showered. But it hadn’t worked. She
didn’t need physical exhaustion. She needed mental tiredness. Yet
every time she closed her eyes, she got an image. Him. That man.
That…
creature
. Looking at her with vivid green eyes. He’d
been wild-looking, yet still extremely handsome. Swarthy…like he’d
once spent a lot of time in the sun. Thick with muscle.
Scarred.
    And those eyes!
    Sleep eluded her. Still. She suspected why.
She was anxious. Restless. She’d stirred the powers and they
weren’t finished with her. Everything felt hyper-sensitive, alert
and readied, as if tuned to the right frequency to receive, and
then just left hanging, tempting her to violate her cardinal rule.
The waiter didn’t know. Nobody did. This tea was just another
effort at staving off insomnia – especially the upcoming bout.
    There was a sudden ruckus over at the
entrance. Something fell with a thud. Something else made a
breaking sound. Glass shattered, all of it altering the ambiance of
the dining room, jarring the musicians to a series of discordant
notes before they recovered. Heads turned toward the entrance. Not
hers. Jeannette set the cup on its saucer and stood, the move
tipping her chair slightly, all of it without conscious thought or
volition. Or command. And then she looked up to watch the man who
walked toward her, completely ignoring the reaction of waiters
dropping trays and patrons going open-mouthed in his wake.
    It was the man she’d seen…and yet he’d
changed. No skim of whisker shadowed his upper lip or chin. No wild
mane of hair cascaded over his shoulders. This man was impeccably
groomed, hair tied back in a queue, and attired in a tailored suit
that highlighted the width of his shoulders as well as the
narrowness of his hips. Everything was in monochromatic tones of
dark gray, fading to black. His jacket. His shirt. Tie. Vest.
Everything. It was amazingly striking, even without adding in his
handsomeness. She’d been right about that, as well. He probably
should be walking a red carpet somewhere, not causing havoc in a
dining room in downtown Chicago. He came closer, walking around
obstacles without looking – as if they didn’t even exist. And the
closer he got, the more every part of her body reacted. First with
alarm, then downright fright. Adrenaline kicked in. Her heart
pounded. Her breath quickened. Shivers flew her limbs, chilling
her.
    He stopped on the other side of her table,
looking at her with an enigmatic expression…coming from incredibly
green eyes. Jeannette tried to swallow, but the dry gulp merely
scraped her throat. His eyes narrowed.
    “What’s wrong?”
    Now, that was just overkill. He had a voice
that