Page 28 of The Vampire’s Temptation

“Come inside with me,” Kenton said. “He was just—”

“No.” She used a firm tone so there would be no misunderstandings.

Lawrence took a step closer to her. Instinctively, she moved away from him, toward Kenton.

“Don’t go in there, Alessandra,” Lawrence said. “I cannot protect you if you do.”

She was so confused. But before she could decide which of them to trust—if, indeed, she wanted to trust either of them—Kenton grabbed her hand, yelling, “Run!” and without thought, she did. One moment, they were standing on the patio beside Lawrence. The next, they were inside Kenton’s foyer.

Alessandra had never moved so fast in her life. They’d raced across the patio so quickly, she hadn’t had a second to think. The housekeeper was nowhere to be seen. Lawrence, on the other hand, stood just outside on the patio, screaming at them both.

“No! Kenton, no!”

“Come,” Kenton said, gesturing for her to follow him. Though it confused her why Lawrence didn’t follow them inside if he felt so strongly about it—surely he didn’t take matters of politeness this seriously?—she was too flustered to ask about it. Instead, she let Kenton lead her up a set of interior stairs and through a hallway. Brochures lay scattered on the table, a reminder that this residence had been a bed and breakfast a mere week ago.

She’d been here before. Even though it housed guests, the Henry Hutton Mansion also used to give tours. It had been built just before the Addy Hutton Mansion next door, the residence he’d had built for his daughter, close enough so that you could see the other from the front porch.

Though it was the smaller of the two, Alessandra had always liked the Italian style of this home more than the stately Victorian next to it. The last time she’d been in here was when her brother and his college buddies had come to visit. Rumors of hauntings had lured them to rent rooms on the third floor of the mansion for the weekend, despite the fact that her very free house was just a few blocks away. Of course, they’d not run into any ghosts that weekend.

“Can I get you something to drink? Tea perhaps?”

Was he serious?

“Tea? Your frenemy is standing on the patio downstairs screaming—”

“He is not . . . my friend.”

Kenton indicated for her to sit. The couch looked as if it would break under her. Pale pink and faded, Alessandra knew much of the furniture was original, though restored, something that had made the B&B guests feel as if they’d stepped back in time the moment they walked inside.

“How did you find me?” he asked.

She sat, perching on the edge of the couch much as she had been perched on the edge of sanity for the past few days.

“Seriously? Two mysterious strangers waltz into town and purchase the largest, most expensive homes in Stone Haven, which, to my knowledge, were not for sale. Did you think that would go unnoticed?”

Kenton didn’t answer. Instead, he began removing his sport coat, revealing a crisp, white-and-blue checkered shirt beneath it. She watched him as he carefully laid the coat across the back of a nearby chair.

The heightened awareness that had overwhelmed her earlier had begun to fade. Feeling more like herself than she had all day, Alessandra took a deep breath.

“Something strange is happening to me.”

As if her confession were an invitation, he sat on the opposite end of the couch. So cool and casual. Nothing like the way he’d looked at Lawrence the other night.

“As I told you it would,” he said.

“Please,” she pleaded, hating the sound of her own voice. Alessandra hated asking for anything, hated to beg. But somehow she knew he had the answers she needed.

“Help me.”

He didn’t move, and for a while, he didn’t say anything either. Finally, he sighed and said, “I told you the truth that night on your porch—”

“You mean, before you and Lawrence completely disappeared without a trace?”

He ignored her sharp tone. “Someone in your distant ancestry is descended from an ancient line of Scottish healers dating back to the thirteenth century.”

Kenton leaned forward.

“One of them, a woman named Lady Isobel, became angry when her husband Alec was killed in battle, part of a feud between her clan and an English family.”