Which was how Lucas came to be hiding behind a chair, spying on his mother and the stern-looking old woman facing her across the hearth. He peered out from behind a fur throw that smelled of dog. Probably the giant wolfhounds he’d seen roaming his grandfather’s castle, the ones the old man gave far more affection and attention than his grandson.
Lucas was only six, and he didn’t understand much of what old people did, but he knew what it meant to be spat upon. And it wasn’t a good thing. Especially not from one’s own grandfather.
But the old man wasn’t here now. Only the woman his mother had told him was his grandmother—another revelation. Lucas hadn’t known he had family other than his mother before today, and suddenly he had grandparents, and probably more. Some of his friends had grandparents, and they had cousins and all sorts of relations to go with them.
“You look a fright, Brighid.”
His grandmother’s voice drew him back to the drafty room, his narrow chest swelling with outrage at her words. His mother was beautiful! He’d heard some of the men in town, and even the women, comment on her beauty, though he didn’t need anyone to tell him what his own eyes could see. On the verge of jumping up to defend his mother’s honor, he abruptly sank back down, remembering that he was spying on the women. They would only send him away if he was discovered, and he had a feeling important things were being said, things he needed to hear. There had to be a reason his mother had brought them so far to this grand castle. She’d told him this was home, but it didn’t feel like home. The only home he knew was the single room they shared back in the city.
“Forgive me, Mother,” Lucas’s mother was saying, her usually gentle voice hard with some emotion he didn’t understand. “It is difficult to maintain a proper wardrobe when one barely has enough food to eat.”
“There is no need to be coarse, Brighid.”
“Oh, no. By all means, let us not be coarse.”
“Bitterness does not become you, child.”
Lucas’s mother laughed. “What do I have to be bitter about? That my own father disowned me? That he left me and my child to starve on the streets?”
“It is your own sins that brought you to this. And you are not starving in any case. A bit thin perhaps, but the boy looks healthy enough.”
“Lucas is perfect,” his mother said fiercely, and Lucas swelled with pride.
The old woman only lifted her lip, as if she’d tasted an ale that had gone sour. “Your father would take you back. Make a good marriage for you, despite your . . . unfortunate situation. There are men who would not mind a young, strong woman. Men who would be willing to overlook your earlier indiscretion.”
“Indiscretion? I was raped, Mother.”
“Lord Danford staunchly denies your hysterical accusation. Why would he have bothered with a silly girl like you? His lovely lady wife had already given him two strong sons, and she has given him another plus a daughter since then. You do your father little honor with these fantastic tales. Danford is a loyal friend and supporter of your father, one of his most valued associates.”
“Obviously an associate of far greater value than his only child . . . or his grandson.”
“That bastard child is not your father’s grandson.”
Lucas’s mother stood abruptly, her hands clenching in her skirt the way they did when she was upset. “I know not why I came here,” she said. “Or why I thought anything would have changed.”
The old woman looked up at his mother, unperturbed by her distress. “You should consider your father’s offer. Lord Jamie is looking for a new wife now that poor Deirdre passed so suddenly.”
“Suddenly?” his mother scoffed. “She was thirty years his junior when they married! The poor woman probably welcomed death after being chained to that vicious old man for so long. How many babes did he force on her? Ten, twelve? Which birth finally killed her, Mother?”
“Really, Brighid. Your time away has made you most uncouth. You must school yourself if you hope to reclaim your father’s good will.”
His mother made a noise like a laugh, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “His good will? Why? So he can bury me along with poor Deirdre? And what of Lucas?”
“You would have to get rid of the boy, of course. There are men, I’m told, who will take on unwanted children as laborers. It is a productive life. The best such a child can expect.”
“My son is not unwanted. Farewell, Mother. Lucas!”
He jumped up, eyes wide as he realized she’d known all along he was there.
“Come, sweetling,” she said softly, holding out her hand. “We are leaving.”
Chapter Ten
South Dakota, present day
Kathryn cursed as she drove away into the pale, predawn light. It had been a huge mistake to sleep with Lucas Donlon. She never dated men she was seriously attracted to. Sure, she liked good-looking men, intelligent men, but the ones she dated were looking for the same thing she was—a casual hook-up, scratching an itch, maybe a few pleasant dinners together. After all, men did it all the time, so why couldn’t she do the same? Her brother said she was avoiding commitment, that after a lifetime of raising him, she had no desire to raise anyone else, including a husband, or even a boyfriend. She’d always denied it, not because it wasn’t true, but because she’d never wanted him to think he’d been a burden, that she’d ever regretted even one day of his life.
But in the privacy of her own heart, she knew he was right. She wasn’t looking for a relationship, had no desire to find the perfect man to settle down with. So, why in God’s name had she weakened enough to spend any time at all with Lucas, much less to have sex with him? Did she love him? Hell, no. It was far too early to think that. But she hungered for him in a way she never had anyone else. She’d just left, and already she could think of nothing but the next time she’d see him. Her body was already so sensitized to his touch that the mere thought of him had her breasts plumping in anticipation, her thighs squeezing together against a need so strong she knew she could climax if she moved . . . precisely . . . the . . . right . . . way. She shuddered as a mini-orgasm trembled through her body.
This was ridiculous. Awful. A complete disaster. She had to get away from Lucas Donlon, as far and as fast as possible. Thank God she was finished with her investigation in this town. She had only to figure out something to do with her brother’s equipment, and she could be gone. She certainly wouldn’t be leaving Dan’s cameras and stuff at Lucas’s ranch, though she knew it would be safer there than anywhere else. Unfortunately, the ranch was probably the least safe place in the world for her right now. Or ever.
She could ship the stuff home. No, even better, ship it to her office. A quick email to warn them it was coming, and they’d make sure it was held until she got back from vacation. Vacation. What a laugh. More like a nightmare. Her brother was still missing, and she was wasting time screwing a good-looking vampire. She shook her head. Good-looking didn’t come close to describing Lucas Donlon.
Focus, Kathryn! Right, the equipment. Okay, so she was shipping it. But that meant boxing it up securely. Dan’s cameras weren’t the kind of thing you could simply toss into a FedEx box with some Styrofoam peanuts. She frowned. Had she even seen a FedEx place in town? She needed one of those big ones that did packaging as well as shipping, and she couldn’t remember seeing one locally. Which meant she’d have to travel to the nearby big city, “big” being a relative term. But that would take time, and she needed to be gone before it got so late that she could, in any way, rationalize waiting for sunset. Because her body was already bombarding her brain with images of a naked Lucas between her thighs . . . on top of her, beneath her, inside her . . . Oh God, she needed to put some miles on the road and fast. No airport. There weren’t enough flights, and waiting for a plane meant more delays, more time for her body to win the fight against her brain.
Her GPS dinged, warning her that the main highway was up ahead. At last! She turned off the primitive dirt road and onto the pavement. The rising sun set fire to her rearview mirror, and she squinted, nearly blinded by the reflection before shoving it aside and pressing the gas pedal as far down as it would go. She could probably talk her way out of a speeding ticket. The sheriff knew who she was after all, and . . .
That was it! Her brains must be more scrambled than she’d thought if it had taken her this long to consider the obvious. She could leave Dan’s camera equipment with the sheriff. He’d hold it for her as a professional courtesy, if nothing else.
This was why she avoided emotional entanglements. They made her stupid.
Two hours later, the tiny town was behind her as she raced toward Minneapolis. Sheriff Sutcliffe had been more than happy to help her out, had even volunteered to arrange appropriate packing and shipping if she needed it. Kathryn had declined, not sure if she wanted to go that far yet. It would all depend on where her brother was—and what kind of shape he was in when she found him. Because now, more than ever, she was convinced he was alive and that Alex Carmichael had him. What was it Lucas had said? If a vampire met a human he fancied, he took the human home for a while to play with, to taste.
And what could be more intriguing for a vampire like Alex Carmichael, someone who bought and sold beautiful art for a living, than a few weeks with a man whose work he admired? Her brother was alive. She simply had to find him and Carmichael before the novelty wore off.
Lucas opened his eyes, feeling troubled and not at all refreshed from his day’s sleep. He rarely woke this way, but then he rarely dreamed anymore. And never of the only time he’d visited Castle Donlon as a child. That visit had marked the end of his innocence. Everything fell apart after that, although as an adult he understood that things had been getting worse for some time before then. His mother had lost her seamstress position, which had been the thin thread between them and starvation. Desperation had driven her back to Kildare, to sacrifice her pride in hopes of getting help from her father before it was too late.
