“I have to go.” He almost didn’t recognize his own voice it was so low and guttural.

  Her mind was a rush of random thoughts, filled with insecurities, but she voiced none of them. “All right,” she easily agreed and tugged her hand out of his grip. He held it tight just for a moment, reluctant to let her go. Perversely, he was angered by her unquestioning acceptance.

  “You have nothing else to say?” He knew he was confusing her with his actions. He was stunned himself. The mixture of strong, conflicting emotions filling him, coupled with his raging need to fuck her, to mark her as his, were all pounding within him until he felt he’d explode if he didn’t find some outlet for them.

  She shook her head and tugged the ragged edges of her nightgown around her. He read her thoughts easily and hated the fact that she suddenly felt the need to cover the body she’d just shared so freely. Stefan knew he had to go, and quickly, before he did or said something he might live to regret. And if he didn’t leave soon, none of it would matter because the sun would kill him. Taking a deep breath, he reached for calm. His fangs receded and his eyes returned to normal.

  Quickly, he rolled from the bed and stood next to it. He leaned down and cupped her face in his hands, tilting it up until she met his gaze. “I will be back. Tonight.” Bending down, he brushed her lips with his. It was almost impossible to pull away from her, but he dared not deepen the kiss, knowing if he did that the dawn would find him still in her bed, covering her lithe body with his much larger one.

  He released her, strode to the window, and flung himself through the opening. He was changing even as he hit the ground running. Racing against the coming dawn, he ran on all fours. In his wolf form, he knew he could bear the first rays of the sun if he didn’t make it back to his truck in time. It would hurt and he would burn, but at least he’d survive.

  The forest passed in a blur of color and sound, dirt and leaves flying out behind him. There was no time for stealth or secrecy. He was running for his life and for hers. Tonight had shown him that the threat to her was very real and he feared what would happen to her if he wasn’t there to protect her. She had done well this evening, but that was against only two men who wanted to scare her more than harm her. And they would be back. Of that there was no doubt.

  Laurel Rose’s startled cry echoed in his ears. He knew she’d raced to the window, fearing he had injured himself in the fall. He sent comforting thoughts to her, reassuring her that he was safe and urging her to take care of her own safety while he was away from her. It was intolerable to him that she would be left unprotected while he lay immobile in the light of the day. He wanted her next to him, locked in his arms so he could keep her safe.

  The first rays of dawn broke over the mountain at the same moment his truck came into sight. Redoubling his efforts, he practically flew to the back of the vehicle, thankful that habit had compelled him to park it in a naturally shaded area beneath a huge stand of oak trees. He didn’t stop as he went down on his belly and crawled beneath the truck. Although he was protected from the sun, he still had no time to waste. Already the effects of the rising sun were taking their toll. The urge to close his eyes and sleep was almost too much to fight. But fight he did. To fall asleep here could mean death from a single ray of sunshine.

  Forcing himself to concentrate, Stefan once again changed back into human form. He reached up and found the secret hatch beneath his truck. When the trap door sprang open, he crawled into the cool confines of the back of his truck and pulled the door shut behind him.

  Exhaustion rolled in like a black tide, bringing sleep in its wake. Not for the first time, Stefan was thankful for the specially designed truck bed. Totally sheltered from the sun, it was a self-contained unit that was cool and safe. Reinforced with steel and built to his specifications, it was totally impervious to outside interference. And if someone happened along, he could always try to escape through the hatch that he’d crawled in through. He knew there was a natural cave about fifty feet away from his truck and he could find shelter there if he had to. Assuming he woke and had enough strength to crawl.

  There was nothing he could do but let sleep take him. His heart rate slowed, his breathing diminished, and his body all but ceased to function. To the casual observer, he would look dead. Stefan fell into the dark void, cursing the sun and willing the night to arrive.

  • • •

  Laurel Rose cried out in horror when Stefan threw himself out of the open window. She rushed to the window and searched the ground for his broken body, but there was nothing there. Confused, she scanned the yard. He couldn’t have left that quickly. Could he? No, that was impossible. Yet the fact remained that he simply wasn’t there.

  Perhaps it had all been nothing but a dream. She dismissed the thought even before it was fully formed. Her nightgown hung in tatters around her, but beyond that, her body ached in unfamiliar places. Although she’d experienced an incredible orgasm, her body was still thrumming with need.

  She didn’t know why he’d left, but she did know that Stefan had wanted her. His enormous erection was proof of that. He’d said he’d be back, and for some reason she believed him. There was really no basis for the connection she felt to this man who was little more than a stranger, but she felt it all the same. But beyond that, she trusted him completely. Otherwise she never would have been able to share her body with him.

  In the dawning of a new day, it seemed incredible to her that she hadn’t shot Stefan when he’d walked out of the shadows. That she hadn’t called the sheriff. That she’d allowed him to look at her, to touch her.

  She realized she was absently rubbing her right leg and looked down at the long, pale scars beneath her hand. The accident that had done irreparable damage to her leg and the subsequent surgeries to make it function as well as possible had left their mark on her body, but last night she hadn’t thought of them at all. Stefan had filled her mind and taken over her body in the dark of the night, leaving no room for her to feel self-conscious about her physical shortcomings.

  She knew she was no raving beauty. Her hair was shiny black, long and straight, and she considered it her best feature. Her eyes were an unusual shade of indigo that people found both fascinating and frightening. Some folks feared that she could read their thoughts and see all the way to their souls. And sometimes she could. Her talent was unpredictable and occasionally came without warning. She never knew when a vision would hit, but she always paid attention when it did.

  Raising her hand to her face, she traced the scar on her right cheek—another reminder of the accident that had killed both her mother and stepfather. The memories of that awful day made her shudder, so she shoved them back into the dark recesses of her mind where they belonged. She had enough to worry about without letting the past haunt her.

  What did it matter what she looked like? Her body was slender and strong and she was able to fend for herself. Nothing else mattered. Turning away from the window, she limped back to the bed. Looking down at the rumpled sheets, she contemplated crawling back beneath them and pulling them around her. Instead, she reached down and hauled them off the mattress and flung them to the floor. There was no way she could sleep now, so she might as well start her day.

  Opening the cedar chest, she drew out a set of fresh sheets and made the bed. She gathered the soiled sheets, bundled them into her arms and carried them to the top of the stairs. The smell of sex and the earthy scent of aroused male wafted up from the cloth. It was all she could do to keep from burying her face in them and breathing deep. In truth, she wanted to wrap the sheets around her and bask in the comfort of Stefan’s presence, to reassure herself that he was real and not just a figment of her overactive imagination. It was for that very reason she didn’t.

  What had she been thinking? She obviously hadn’t been. She’d been reacting. After the scare from the night before, she’d been open to Stefan’s charm, needing to feel a connection of some kind to someone else, no matter how fleeting.

  Here in the light of day, she was alone. Stefan might be her secret nighttime lover, but what did she really know about him? He was able to talk to her telepathically, something she’d never encountered before. He’d also just appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, in her bedroom in the middle of the night. This was not a man she should be inviting into her life. She had enough problems to deal with without adding to them.

  Life had taught her to depend on no one but herself.

  Ruthlessly, she tossed the bundle over the stairs. She’d wash them first thing and get them hung out on the line to dry before she went into town. She wasn’t looking forward to her trip, but she had little choice in the matter. It was Saturday, the day of the farmer’s market, and she had goods to sell. Beyond that, she needed some supplies. Mentally, she began to make a list of things she had to do while she was there.

  As much as she didn’t want to face the townsfolk, she knew she’d make a stop at the diner before starting the trip back up the mountainside. The local diner was a hotbed of gossip and, right now, Laurel Rose needed any information she could get about the developers who were buying up the land around hers.

  Limping down the hallway to the bathroom, she shoved all thoughts of the night before from her mind. If Stefan showed up tonight, she’d deal with it. Until then, she had a life to live and things to do.

  First, she’d get a shower. Then she’d do a load of laundry, have some breakfast, and get her herbs, vegetables and craft goods loaded onto her truck for her trip to town. She had a busy day ahead of her.

  Even as she planned her day, images of a tall, dark-haired man rose up in her mind. And just for a second, she thought she could feel the caress of his calloused hand on her face. She sucked in a breath, gasping at how real it felt. Her hand flew to her cheek only to find it was strangely warm. Shaking off the sensation, she sighed and hurried into the bathroom. But the comforting feeling of his hand on her skin still lingered.

  Chapter Eight

  Salvation, North Carolina, was a small town a mere thirty-minute drive from her home. It boasted a grocery store, drugstore, dry goods shop, post office, town hall, gas station, diner, and a take-out pizza place. Most people drove to one of the larger centers when they wanted to do some serious shopping, but for everyday living, Salvation provided what most folks needed.

  It was the closest town to Laurel Rose and where she did all her business. Right now, that meant setting up her truck for the weekly farmer’s market that took place on the outskirts of town. Many of the surrounding farmers brought their goods to sell. It was a time for people from Salvation and nearby communities to meet and share news or just hang around and gossip. You could buy everything at the market from fresh vegetables, eggs, butter and herbs to homemade soap and an assortment of craft items. They did a good trade during the tourist seasons, when people traveling through North Carolina would stop and purchase some of the local handicrafts.

  Laurel Rose set up in her usual spot at the far end of the field, slightly away from the other vendors. She knew she made many of the locals uncomfortable, so she kept to herself for their sakes, mostly. Climbing out of her truck, she took a deep breath of the fresh autumn air. Its crisp, invigorating scent filled her lungs, giving her a much-needed boost of energy. She was tired—little wonder considering the activities of the previous night.

  Her body still tingled even hours later and she could almost feel Stefan’s fingers gliding over her torso and caressing her breasts. Her womb clenched, reminding her that she’d been left wanting more.

  Taking another deep breath, she rolled her shoulders and shook off the sensual thoughts. She had work to do. She had no time to spend standing around mooning over a mysterious stranger who’d just happened to show up in her bedroom last night. Honestly, she should have called the local sheriff’s office rather than allowing him to touch her. Her only defense was that it had seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

  Laurel Rose hurried around to the back of the truck as fast as her bad leg would allow. She lowered the tailgate and hauled out her folding table and chair. Her quick, practiced motions had both set up within seconds. Reaching into the bed of the truck, she yanked several boxes down to the end.

  Within minutes, she had a pretty green cloth on the table and had set out an array of her homemade soaps and a variety of herbs from her garden. She loved the smells that wafted up from the hand-cut bars. It reminded her of her garden. Their colors were like a rainbow spread across her table and pride filled her every time she set them out for sale. Stacking the soap one bar on top of the other, she made colorful pyramids and placed name cards with prices in front of each stack.

  Satisfied that she was ready for business, she hoisted herself into the back of the truck and moved several trays of seedlings to within easy reach. She’d found that many people liked to purchase the small herb plants when they bought the herbs, and Laurel Rose had started offering them for sale last year. So far, she’d done well with them.

  Maybe it cut down on some of her business, but if folks didn’t buy the plants from her they’d buy them from someone else. And most folks only wanted one or two types of plants and still bought other herbs from her.

  Holding on to the side of the truck, she lowered herself to a seated position and scooted off the back. The trays, filled with their green plants, made a nice backdrop when she sat at her table. She’d sold the last of her vegetables the week before and from here on in would mostly sell her soap and some small rugs she’d hooked over the winter and summer months. People were already thinking ahead to Christmas, and she found that many tourists were eager to purchase handmade products as gifts. Fall was her best time of year for selling.

  Positioning her folding chair to her liking, she settled into it and waited for her first customer. The lot was beginning to fill up even though the market didn’t officially open for another ten minutes. Most folks came early for the best selection. As Laurel Rose was mulling over the possibility of making some biscuits and bottling jam to sell at next week’s market, a shadow fell across her table.

  She barely stifled her groan of dismay when she looked up and saw who it was. This was no customer. Jeremiah Stoner was pastor of one of the local churches. A real fire-and-brimstone kind of preacher, he continually sermonized about the wages of sin and the glory of salvation from the pulpit of his church. There were rumors that some members of the congregation, including the pastor, still engaged in the controversial and illegal practice of serpent handling.

  Laurel Rose didn’t know if the rumors were true or false, and she really didn’t care. What she did know was that she did not like Jeremiah Stoner, not one little bit. The man always seemed to be preaching at people and never talking to them. And the fanatical gleam in his pale blue eyes could be downright scary at times.

  Still, she was a live-and-let-live kind of person, and they had an unwritten agreement to stay out of each other’s way. She knew that if it were up to him, she’d have been driven out of the area long ago. He seemed convinced that she was in league with the devil and that’s where she got her unusual talents.

  Sighing inwardly, she summoned a slight smile. “Good morning, Jeremiah.”

  “Is it a good morning, Laurel Rose? Or is the devil lurking in the shadows just waiting for his chance to corrupt good, decent people?” Clad in black from head to toe, he made quite an impression as his booming voice echoed across the field. Many of the locals just looked up and then went back to what they were doing, well used to Jeremiah Stoner’s theatrical ways. But some folks from out of town stared at him with a mixture of curiosity, fascination, and trepidation.

  Even she could admit that he made a compelling figure. He was tall and slender with a full head of blond hair that always seemed in need of a trim. But it in no way detracted from his good looks. Laurel Rose figured that many of the women who attended church went solely to stare at the preacher.

  Knowing it would irritate him, she took her time and stared around the sunny field. “Actually, I think it is a wonderful morning.”

  His light brown eyebrows drew together in the center of his forehead and his lips pursed in a frown. “Then I feel sorry for you, child. The devil is near you. I can feel him. You should come to church and be cleansed of your sins.”

  Laurel Rose could barely suppress a shudder of distaste. A quick, single picture flashed in her mind of a cold, dark room, but she couldn’t really see it clearly. The room was filled with anger and pain, as well as a fanatical malice that chilled her. The image filled her with utter revulsion. She stared right back into the fervent depths of Jeremiah Stoner’s pale blue eyes, knowing that the image was somehow linked to him. “Perhaps you should take your own advice.”

  He gasped. At her sheer audacity in speaking to him in such a way or at her continual refusal to pay his admonishments any heed, she didn’t know. But it soon became a test of wills between them, neither allowing him- or herself to look away. Laurel Rose summoned the power that resided within her, protecting herself with a wall of white light to deflect the evil thoughts she felt emanating from him.

  Time itself seemed to stop and the air around them stilled. Thunder rumbled off in the distance even though the sky was clear. Laurel Rose knew that somehow Stefan sensed her unease and that the brewing storm was the result. She could sense his rising anger at Jeremiah and was amazed at the sheer power she felt flowing from Stefan as he helped to reinforce her protective barrier, even though she sensed he was far away. That kind of power was frightening, yet she felt no fear, only a sense of protection.

  Sweat beaded on Jeremiah Stoner’s forehead and his face paled, but still he kept his gaze locked with hers. She could sense him focusing all his willpower on her, commanding her to follow his instructions. Wanting her to bend to his will.