Man of Her Dreams Page 6

  She made no mention of her recent troubles, which didn’t surprise him. “Your friend has good taste.” He walked around the room, assessing the quality of the furnishings and the artwork. “Is this her work?” He studied a vivid piece that reflected the building’s courtyard at night.

  “Yes.” Darby came over to stand beside him. “She’s studying art from the masters.” She looked up at him, without fear, surprisingly, though he noted the curiosity in her eyes. “Would you like water or a soft drink?”

  “Whatever you’re having will be fine.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen, sensing that he was watching her but that didn’t stop him. What man wouldn’t watch a beautiful woman as she walked away?

  When she’d returned with two bottles of cold water and plenty of paper napkins, she was careful to sit opposite him in a chair rather than next to him on the sofa. She passed him a slice of pizza and selected one for herself.

  “Are you new to the city?” she asked before taking a bite of the heavily embellished pie.

  “Yes,” he answered truthfully.

  Now she was really curious. He liked that her eyes reflected her every subtle shift in mood. “So what do you think of our wicked city?” Her smile brightened. “We do have a certain reputation, you know.”

  Aidan found himself returning the smile without conscious effort. It felt strange at first, but not entirely unpleasant. He thought of the two men who’d tried to mug him last night. “The jury’s still out on your fair city’s reputation.”

  She laughed. The soft, throaty sound pleased him. He wanted to hear it again.

  “I’ve lived here forever. Any questions you have, feel free to toss them my way.” She sipped her water, her gaze never leaving his.

  “Forever?” he repeated. “That’s a long time, Darby Shepard.”

  Darby kept her smile in place in spite of the little trickle of uneasiness she felt at the moment. Why had she invited this stranger into her apartment? She’d certainly never done anything like that before. If she’d ever had a reason to be more careful, she had it now. What had she been thinking?

  The answer was simple—she hadn’t.

  She’d been so intrigued by the intensity of the attraction between them that she hadn’t given any thought to a single thing, not even her own personal safety.

  She’d felt him on that balcony even before she looked his way, just as she’d felt…something…when she woke up in the middle of the night. She’d felt his presence. Not once in her life, that she could recall, had she been so aware of another human being. It thoroughly undid her on one level and drew her on another.

  When he’d taken her hand in his to shake it, the sizzle of attraction had been so profound it had stolen her breath. Even now, those dark, dark eyes emanated something…a magnetism she found irresistible. The connection wasn’t about how good-looking he was, and he was that. Tall, athletic build. Nice wide shoulders. Long, black hair, almost too long. And the hint of beard—goatee, actually—made him look like a pirate who’d just come ashore. But then when she considered the way he dressed, all in black and with that long duster, his very presence had made her shiver. Had she not seen him standing in the sunlight on that balcony, she’d have sworn he was a vampire straight out of popular fiction.

  But he was neither of those things. He was a man, her new neighbor and a mere mortal. Maybe the uproar and uncertainty in her life right now made her want to cling to something solid and strong. If she’d ever laid eyes on a man who looked more solid or strong, she had no memory of the encounter. In fact, Darby felt certain he was like no one else she’d ever met.

  “I grew up here,” she explained finally, having almost forgotten his question. “My parents—they died in a boating accident a few years ago—loved this city.”

  “I’m sure you have many happy memories of growing up here,” he offered with a smile that took away her breath all over again.

  Darby held on to the bottle of water in her hands and tried to think rationally. How could he upset her equilibrium so easily?

  “Yes,” she replied, though it wasn’t completely true. “I have many happy memories. How about you?” She turned the tables, desperate to get out of the spotlight for a while. “Where did you grow up?”

  “Out west,” he said vaguely. “We moved around a lot.”

  Something changed in his expression, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint the subtle variance. “You have any brothers or sisters?”

  He shook his head. “No one. Only me.”

  Then she understood the change. His parents were gone, too. God, how did she always manage to ask the wrong questions?

  “How about more pizza?” she offered in hopes of diverting the sore subject.

  “I should go.” He pushed to his feet and Darby felt suddenly overwhelmed.

  She stood, matching his stance. “I’m glad we could take this opportunity to get acquainted.”

  That analyzing gaze roved her face, finally settling on her eyes. “Me, too.”

  Darby followed him to the door, her whole body reacting to the way he moved. There was something incredibly sexy about the way he walked. She shook the silly idea from her head and chastised herself for being so incorrigible.

  He hesitated in the open doorway, that fierce gaze latching on to hers once more. “Do you have plans for tonight?”

  His voice, more so than the words, made her heart do a little somersault. It was totally irrational. But the deep, soft tones played over her skin, making her shiver, teasing her auditory senses.

  Regret lined her face. “I’m sorry. A friend asked me to cover for her on a walking tour at Lafayette tonight.” Sudden inspiration struck. “You’re new in town, maybe you’d like to come along. We meet at the cemetery gate at nine.”

  “Sounds interesting,” he said noncommittally. “Perhaps I can make it.”

  “I’ll look for you.”

  Darby closed the door behind him and leaned against it. Very strange. Connecting with him so intensely left her feeling a little out of sorts.

  She pushed off the door and banished the unsettling sensations that lingered. She had to figure out what kind of camouflage she would wear tonight. Mary Ellen, her neighbor at her apartment, had taken on an extra flight to Hawaii last weekend and had decided to stay the week. Darby had agreed, before all hell had broken loose, to cover tonight’s tour for her. With all that had happened, she’d completely forgotten that it was tonight. It was definitely too late to try to get someone else. She’d just have to figure out a way to prevent being recognized.

  If she were really lucky, maybe her handsome new neighbor would show. She could definitely use some more of his attention to boost her waning self-confidence right now. He might be just the distraction she needed to put serial killers and psychic visions out of her mind.

  All she wanted was a normal life back.

  A good-looking guy was a perfectly normal distraction for an unattached woman her age.

  It might as well be Aidan…the mystery man.

  Chapter Five

  Unspecified Location

  “Sir, we have reason to believe there is a connection. According to my intelligence, Center has sent an Enforcer to New Orleans.”

  Waylon Galen shook his head. “That’s impossible. She was eliminated. A failure.” Center’s only failure, but a failure nonetheless. He refused to believe that Marsh had misled him. Joseph Marsh had worked at Center, been involved at the deepest level. He would have known this. Hell, even Archer’s own files had indicated the elimination. This had to be a mistake.

  “Sir,” the only human being Galen trusted at the moment continued, “I believe the situation merits further investigation.”

  Galen had lost everything. His covert position within the Colombian government’s realm. His lab. His only reliable contacts within the U.S. government. And none of that was nearly so important as his connection to Center. Winslow had been his last contact with the work that was his.

&
nbsp; He created the Enforcers!

  Galen pushed to his feet, sending his chair banging against the credenza.

  He was the one who started it all. And they took that away from him. Forced him out. Then left him to languish on his own. But he’d come back. Determination surged through him. He’d almost reached that pinnacle of mastery yet again. Only to be thwarted by the likes of O’Riley.

  Now, just maybe, he had one last chance.

  If Eve still existed, if the woman in New Orleans was really the seer he himself had created, he still had a foot in the door.

  “I’ll need to look into this personally,” he said to his intelligence analyst.

  “Sir, are you sure that’s a good idea? They’ll be on the lookout for you.” He shoved the thick glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It could be a trap. Perhaps they want us to believe it’s her so they can lure you there.”

  Perhaps. That was a chance he’d simply have to take.

  “Make the arrangements,” Galen ordered. “I’m leaving immediately.”

  His analyst nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Oh, and Brewer.”

  Tad Brewer, his confidant and senior analyst, hesitated at the door. “Sir?”

  “I’m very impressed with your work. I won’t forget how reliable you’ve been.”

  Brewer nodded and rushed off to do his superior’s bidding.

  Galen laughed softly. O’Riley thought he had everything under control. He just didn’t know how far a desperate man could go. When he realized his miscalculation, it would be far too late.

  New Orleans

  City of the Dead

  SOMEONE WAS following her.

  She’d felt it all through the tour.

  Had felt someone watching her too closely. Not like the tourists who’d paid for the opportunity to traipse through one of New Orleans’ most famous cemeteries.

  This had been different and wholly focused on her.

  Darby watched the last of the tourists disappear through the massive, yawning gates. One more tour was scheduled later tonight, and then the cemetery would be closed and locked up tight. Thankfully, she wasn’t the guide for that midnight tour.

  Shivering she rubbed her arms. October was the second-largest tourist season in New Orleans. All month long, special “terrorizing” tours were offered. Costume parties went on at local bars and clubs every weekend, sometimes even on weeknights.

  The distant sounds of laughter and jazz floated on the autumn night’s breeze. New Orleans never slept. There was always a party, always music, always people. Some streets never completely cleared.

  Time to get out of here, she reminded herself as another shudder rippled through her. She wasn’t really afraid of her hometown in the dark. She’d grown up here, knew the streets that were safe and the ones to avoid. Her bicycle was parked on the grounds. She’d be home in no time.

  The moon hung low and big tonight. Something else to be thankful for, she mused, as she moved through the cemetery toward the Shriner’s Tomb where she’d parked her bike. She’d played near that big old tomb as a child. Whenever she came here, that was always where she ended up.

  A frown tugged the corners of her mouth downward as the fog seemed to thicken and swirl around her feet. Had Benny, the guy in charge of special effects, forgotten to turn off the machine that produced that eerie stuff whenever nature didn’t comply? She didn’t remember it being so thick an hour ago. She supposed it didn’t matter. It was 10:30. The next tour started at midnight. Someone would shut it off. She had no idea where he positioned the machine, or even how it worked, or if—really big if—it was even providing this lovely, deepening element of graveyard atmosphere.

  The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood on end once more as the undeniable sensation that she was being watched slid down her spine a second time tonight. She refused to look around like a fraidy cat. There was no one here. She was fine. Her only enemy was locked up tight in a New Orleans jail.

  The aboveground tombs rose upward out of the fog like ghostly white temples. A cluster of clouds floated past the moon, casting darker-than-death shadows and adding yet another layer of uneasiness to her mounting anxiety. She was really letting this get to her.

  She hastened her step, refusing to outright run, moving quickly past praying angels and marble crosses, through the now murky moonlight scarcely piercing the shadows cast by moss-laden oaks. All she had to do was get on her bike and pedal home. She’d be there in no time.

  Stumbling in her haste, Darby barely caught herself before she fell. She tried to slow her racing heart, cast around quickly to regain her bearings. She knew this cemetery. That’s why she’d agreed so readily to do the tour for her friend. She knew as much or more about this place than most of the tour guides being paid for their services. This was pure foolishness.

  She sucked in a bolstering breath and silently thanked God when the clouds moved away from the full moon. Forcing her gaze forward, she started toward her destination once more. She ignored the crumbling headstones that usually garnered her attention. Refused to even glance at the marble guard dogs that now seemed to growl silently at her. Even the gargoyles sitting atop the next tomb she passed appeared to sneer down at her.

  The second she reached her bike, she released the lock that held it immobile, dropped it into her purse and swung her right leg over the seat. Time to get home. She’d seriously let the night creeps get to her. Something she hadn’t done since…she couldn’t even remember when.

  She pedaled through the swirling fog, keeping her gaze focused straight ahead. All she had to do was head toward the sound of music, toward the laughter of revelers.

  Swearing hotly, she braked to a stop outside the gate. She had to close the gates. Dammit. She’d almost forgotten. Darby shoved the kickstand down and left her bike long enough to drag one massive gate at a time to the neutral position. Though she didn’t have the key to lock it, closing it, according to her friend, was a precaution to keep honest folks honest. The next guide would lock the gates for the night after the final tour.

  “Looks like I’m a little late.”

  A shriek escaped her before she could prevent it. She spun around to find Aidan waiting near her bike.

  “Lord, you scared me half to death.” Not that it had taken much. She pressed her hand to her chest and ordered her thundering heart to slow. Two deep breaths later and she felt a little more in control.

  “I’m sorry,” he offered, moving closer.

  It wasn’t until he stepped from beneath the canopy of the trees that she really got a good look at him. Dressed all in black as he was, about the only thing that stood out were those eyes. As dark as they were, there was a kind of light that emanated from them, a beacon that drew her.

  His extraordinary good looks devastated her all over again. She’d known handsome men before. Certainly in a city this large, a girl ran into a good-looking man now and then. But this went well beyond the usual meaning of the word. His male beauty was entirely compelling…in a dangerous sort of way. She shivered.

  Even the overlong hair she didn’t usually care for looked good on him. It curled around the collar of his shirt. Blue-black silk against the denser black of his shirt. The goatee that framed his mouth did nothing to distract from the sculpted lips that did strange things to her tummy. Made her yearn to know how the man kissed.

  And she’d only just met him today.

  Okay. Reality check here. Apparently dreaming about serial killers and men in little white coats had pushed her over the edge of reason. Certainly all good sense she’d ever possessed was long gone. Made the dreams about the men in the little white coats actually prophetic. They might just show up to take her away any time now.

  “You…missed the…tour,” she stammered, completely at a loss as to what else to say.

  “It appears so.” He moved a step closer. “Unless you’d like to give me a personal tour.”

  It was the long duster he wore, she decided then and there. No
t much imagination was required to go from that to a long, black cape. Oh, yeah, her new neighbor could be one of those seductive vampires in the latest popular fiction novel. She should be afraid. She should be very afraid.

  “There’s no need to be afraid,” he said softly, reading her mind. “It’s just a cemetery, right?”

  There was something about the way he spoke, or maybe it was the way he took her arm and wrapped it around his before entering the gates of her favorite city of the dead. Whatever it was, she found it stirring, mesmerizing. She simply couldn’t resist. If he wanted a tour…he would get a tour.

  He walked through the ankle-deep mist beside her, his movements sleek, confident, as smooth as glass. How could a man with such a hard-muscled physique move so fluidly? So effortlessly?

  Aidan couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  She was beautiful. Even more so with her face caressed by moonlight. Moonlight that played with shadow, always moving, never constant, giving her ethereal beauty an even more haunting glow. The smell of her skin…the softness of it tempted him beyond reason.

  He hadn’t made his presence known earlier because he hadn’t wanted to be distracted the way he was now. He’d needed to be on guard while the crowd surrounded her. But now, it was only the two of them. He could relax. Relax and enjoy being near her. There was something so sensual about her innocence, her utter humanness. He’d spent his entire life with those genetically superior—she was genetically superior—and yet she emoted a vulnerability, fragility, a neediness he had never known.

  She drew the gauzy black scarf from her hair, allowing it to fall loose. “My disguise,” she said with a laugh and tucked the scarf into her pocket.

  The cool breeze stirred her long hair, lifting it, playing with it momentarily and then allowing it to drape over her shoulders and down her back like a cape of shiny silk. Her eyes captured the sparse light from the moon and glowed softly with it. No one else at Center had eyes like hers.