“I agree,” Jude said. “Whatever it is that’s making you feel this way, we need to get to the bottom of it.”
“So you don’t think I’m just crazy?”
“Not likely. I think Creed will concur, when one feels watched, there’s usually someone watching.”
Creed cleared his throat. “Studies would seem to bear that out.”
“God.” Yvonne shuddered. “How could that be?” Then she appeared to have a thought. “Maybe it’s that creep of an ex-boyfriend of mine. Maybe he did something to my computer. He could be watching me day and night.” She scowled. “I wouldn’t put it past him, considering all the weird things he seems to get into. Stalking me? Yes, he’d be capable of it.”
“We’ll check it out along with other possibilities,” Jude said. “I want to examine your apartment very closely. I’ll need to gather some equipment first, though. When would be a good time?”
“Any time,” she said vehemently. “Now, tomorrow, I don’t care when. I work at home. Or I do when I’m not creeped out. Just tell me when.”
“Tomorrow night,” Jude said. “And I’m going to have Creed here accompany you home and check out your apartment before he goes to his own.”
Creed found it almost impossible to maintain a straight face. Alone with that woman in her apartment? Had Jude just lost his mind? But Jude’s expression revealed nothing. Talk about the ultimate test of self-control.
“Thank you,” Yvonne said, looking at him. “I’d be so grateful.”
Like hell she would, he thought grimly. Whatever or whoever might be watching her, it probably wasn’t nearly as big a threat to her as a vampire who craved her blood.
Namely Creed.
Chapter 2
Yvonne was acutely aware of Creed following her in his big black SUV as she drove back home. But then she’d been acutely aware of him since first she’d seen him, that day she decided to buy the condo. Maybe she had even made the decision because of him.
God, wasn’t she too old for a crush? Evidently not, because one sight of Creed Preston had engraved him indelibly in her mind. He was handsome, with an elegant build. He moved like an athlete, and the gold color of his eyes was striking. Like a tiger’s eyes, she thought.
And something about him struck her as dangerous, but not in a bad way. How weird was that? Maybe it was his tiger’s eyes.
But not even for long could she distract herself with thoughts of a silly schoolgirl crush, and how ridiculous that was in a woman of thirty-two. She was heading home again, heading to that place she called home anyway, a place that not even for one instant seemed welcoming anymore. In one short week she had come to wish that she’d noticed that feeling of being watched before she had bought the place. Because now all she wanted was to get out of it. Fast.
She pulled into her slot in the building’s parking garage and waited while Creed pulled into his. The penthouse slots were nearer the elevator, hardly surprising. When he climbed out, she felt again his extraordinary impact and wondered why she responded that way.
His smile was nice, too, even if it looked a bit forced. He used his own key to open the elevator then waved her in ahead of him. He seemed to her to hesitate, but only for a split second, before entering the car with her. She must have imagined it.
“Which floor?” he asked, reaching for the buttons.
“Twenty-fourth.”
He punched the button, then leaned back against the far wall, not looking at her. Indeed, he almost seemed to hold his breath.
Was she that repulsive to him? She knew she looked rather mousy, in fact it was an appearance she mostly cultivated in order to be left alone, but she didn’t think she stank. Had nervousness outworn her deodorant or something?
Irritated, she glanced away from him and watched the floors tick by. The ride seemed unusually long, and when finally the doors opened, she stepped out quickly and turned to face him.
“Look,” she said, her tone a little sharp, “I don’t want to inconvenience you any more. I’ll just deal with it tonight and wait for Mr. Messenger tomorrow.”
He straightened, pulling away from the car wall, and held out an arm so the elevator doors wouldn’t close. “I’m sorry?”
“Well, I can tell you’d rather be elsewhere. Clearly something about me repels you.”
Both his brows lifted. Then he astonished her with a laugh. “You’ve got that exactly backward.”
“What?” Now she felt confused.
“Nothing about you repels me,” he said flatly. “Quite the contrary. And I insist on checking out your apartment. Jude wants me to, I’m concerned about what you’re feeling, and if possible, I’d like to experience it, too. Unless you really do want to go back there by yourself tonight?”
Her jaw dropped a little. Had she totally misread him? His body language had definitely made her feel that he wanted to be away from her. But he’d told her the exact opposite was true. What was she to believe?
Finally, she managed a shrug and let him follow her to her door. Pat had recommended Jude Messenger, and Jude had vouched for Creed, so there was absolutely no reason on earth to suspect this man of anything except a desire to help her.
She must be too stressed, must be reading things wrong. Certainly she was short on sleep.
She swiped the key card at her door and pushed it open.
And the minute she stepped inside she felt it. Only now it was stronger than the sense of being watched. It was as if something dark loomed over her, threatening her. “Oh, God,” she whispered.
“Stay here,” Creed said. “Keep the door open.” He slipped past her into her condo.
As if she could have moved anyway. The sense of a presence overwhelmed her. The air thickened with menace, and it was stronger than she’d ever felt it before. She would not, could not, walk farther inside.
She waited with a hammering heart, straining to hear, but hearing nothing. Then, almost too quickly to be believed, Creed reappeared.
“Nothing?” she asked, knowing damn well it was something.
“I wouldn’t say that.” He pulled his cell phone from a belt clip and pressed a button. “Jude? That thing? It’s been here. Recently. Yes, I can smell it.”
“What thing?” Yvonne asked, barely able to whisper the words because her heart was pounding so hard she couldn’t seem to get enough air.
Creed didn’t answer her. “Okay,” he said, then put away his phone. When he did, he looked at her.
“Can you handle a few more minutes?”
“Why?”
“Because I want to search your apartment.”
A shudder ripped through her. “For what? You’d have seen anyone who was there.”
“I need to look for some other stuff. And that brings me to your options.”
“What options? I don’t have any.” Some part of her hated the weakness and fear she heard in her own voice.
“You can stay at a hotel tonight, or you can stay at my place. I have a decent couch you can use. But I have to warn you, if you stay with me.”
“Warn me about what?” She was having trouble absorbing all this. What had he sensed? She needed answers. Her brain was still stumbling