She tuned out Caine’s low laugh as she headed toward the front of the house.


It was late and she was tired, but she ignored the carved wooden staircase that led to the bedrooms as she entered the paneled foyer.


What the hell was wrong with her?


She felt restless and on edge. As if there was a looming thunderstorm and she was about to be struck by lightning.


Telling herself it was nothing more than frustration with Caine and the mysterious games that were being played around her, she yanked open the door and stepped outside.


What she needed was a walk.


And if that didn’t work, then there was always cheesecake in the fridge.


There was nothing in the world that couldn’t be cured by cheesecake.


Chapter Two


Salvatore crouched in the bushes and studied the large home that was stuck in the middle of nowhere.


Like most colonial homes, it had a lot of bricks and fluted columns, with a double row of tall windows that would give a vampire nightmares. There was a large front terrace with a sweeping drive that was lined by oak trees, and a covered pool behind the four-car garage.


A nice crib for a mere cur, but Salvatore’s interest wasn’t in architecture.


Instead, he tested the late spring air, futilely attempting to ignore the pervasive scent of vanilla that seeped through his body like the finest aphrodisiac, and concentrated on the bastard who had dared to try to kidnap him.


He might have escaped, but he wasn’t the forgive-and-forget type.


“The cur’s inside,” he said.


“Holy cow.” Levet flapped his wings, standing on tiptoe to glance over the bush. “Do you pay all your curs like AIG executives or do the lunatic fringe receive special bonuses?”


Salvatore’s retort died on his lips as the door was suddenly pushed open and a female pureblood stepped into the night.


She was stunningly familiar. As one of quadruplets, she possessed her sisters’ pale blond hair and slender body. A body that was deliciously revealed by her stretchy shorts and tiny bit of spandex that passed as a top. He would also bet his Rolex her eyes were a perfect emerald.


But that’s where the similarity ended.


Both her sisters, Darcy and Regan, possessed the electric energy of all Weres. But this woman. Cristo, he could feel her vibrant power charging the air a half mile away.


His wolf stirred beneath his skin, straining to be closer to the female that called to him at his most primitive level.


“Salvatore?” Levet snapped his fingers in front of Salvatore’s eyes. “Helllooo. Anyone home?”


“Don’t bother me, gargoyle,” Salvatore growled.


“You promised you would find the cur’s lair and then we would wait for…” The three-foot pest sucked in a sharp breath as he at last caught sight of the woman strolling toward a marble fountain. “Oh. Darcy’s sister.”


“Si.”


“Salvatore, you are not going to do something stupid, are you?” Levet stomped his foot as Salvatore rose and stepped around the bush. “Mon Dieu. Why do I even ask? Of course you are going to do something stupid. And who do you suppose is the one who is going to get hurt? Moi. That is who.”


“Return to the bushes,” Salvatore snapped, his attention never wavering from the woman who had suddenly stiffened and turned in his direction.


“Do you never watch horror films, stupide?” Levet squeaked. “It is always the one who stays behind who Jason or Freddie or Michael Myers chops in half.”


Salvatore made a Herculean effort to ignore his companion as he slid forward. The female had sensed his presence and was preparing to bolt.


That was unacceptable.


And not just because he’d been searching for her for the past thirty years.


Hell, that was at the very bottom of the list.


Way below getting her naked and into the nearest bed.


She took a wary step back as Salvatore neared, and he forced himself to come to a halt, raising a hand in a gesture of peace.


“Wait.”


Her eyes narrowed (not emerald, but instead a stunning hazel with flecks of gold), and her expression hardened, but there was no fear. His fascination ratcheted up another notch.


There was nothing sexier than a woman who knew she could take care of herself.


“Who are you?” she demanded, her low, husky voice brushing over him like a physical caress.


“Salvatore Giuliani.”


Recognition flashed through her eyes. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the good kind of recognition. Not like finding the perfect silk tie to match his new Armani suit. More like a woman who turned over a rock and didn’t like what crawled out.


“God,” she breathed. “Caine is an idiot.”


“What’s your name?”


“Harley.”


He stretched out his hand. “Come to me, Harley.”


“I don’t think so.”


“I’m not going to hurt you.”


“And I should believe you, why?”


Salvatore frowned. She wasn’t acting like a Were who’d been kidnapped and held captive by a deranged cur.


“I’m here to rescue you.”


She shook her head, her hair shimmering with pale beauty even in the darkness.


“Hip-frigging-hooray for you. Who said I wanted to be rescued?”


“You aren’t being held against your will?”


“No one holds me against my will.” She flicked a dismissive gaze over his less than pristine suit. “Especially not a man.”


Salvatore growled low in his throat. He didn’t get dismissive glances from women. Women drooled and panted and sometimes fainted when he entered a room.


“It doesn’t matter,” he rasped. “You’re coming with me.”


“Very smooth, Romeo.” Levet moved to stand at his side. “It’s no wonder the Weres are nearly extinct.”


Salvatore glared at the gargoyle. It didn’t improve his mood to know the miniature demon was right. He could seduce a woman with a mere glance, so why was he barely restraining his urge to snap and snarl?


Because the female was his, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. And she was damned well going to admit it.


“Levet,” he warned as the demon waddled forward.


“Shh. Allow the master to work.” With a flick of his tail, Levet halted directly in front of Harley, and performed an awkward bow. “Please forgive my oafish companion, beautiful Harley. He is never troubled by the need to display good manners.” He heaved a dramatic sigh. “Royalty, you cannot live with them, cannot slice off their heads. Well, not without a great deal of stupid fuss.” The delicate wings fluttered. “What Salvatore intended to say was that we would be deeply honored to have your company so we can converse with you over a lovely meal.” He licked his lips. “Perhaps a roasted ox. Or two.”


A reluctant smile curved Harley’s lips and Salvatore swallowed a sigh. Men wanted to drown the gargoyle on sight, women inevitably found him charming. It was as unfathomable as black holes.


“I like you,” she murmured.


“But of course you do, ma belle. I am quite irresistible to the opposite sex. It is a blessing…and a curse.”


“Enough.” Salvatore scowled. “I have been searching for you for a long time, Harley. You’re not going to escape me now.”


“Oh, yeah?” A slow, taunting smile curved her lips. “Then come and get me.”


She whirled on her heel and with startling speed, was headed toward the side of the house.


In less than a heartbeat, Salvatore was giving chase, his brain shutting down as his predatory nature took over.


He didn’t know what he intended to do when he caught her. Bite her, bed her, or toss her over his shoulder and lock her in his lair. But it was going to be deeply satisfying.


“Salvatore…” Levet called, his voice nothing but a distant annoyance.


His only thought was catching the slender form that was rounding the corner of the house.


Had he been in his right mind, he would never have given chase. Madre del dio, it had trap written all over it. As it was, his only thought was sweet vanilla and warm woman.


Cutting the corner around the house, he had a nanosecond to realize that Harley had come to a halt and was standing with a smug grin on her lips. Then the earth beneath his feet began to shift and he was falling through empty air.


“Sucker,” the woman called, adding insult to injury as Salvatore hit the paved floor and the top of the silver cage slammed shut above him.


Harley’s heart was thundering in her chest as she paused at the entrance to the basement.


A part of her was damned proud of herself.


After years of having Salvatore Giuliani’s name used as her personal boogeyman, she hadn’t panicked when he’d suddenly appeared. In fact, she’d coolly stood her ground, and even lured the mighty King of Weres into her trap.


Piece of cake.


Harley blew out a sigh and wiped the sweat from her brow.


Liar, liar.


Her seeming composure had been nothing more than shock and temporary insanity.


The shock had been a result of the realization that the powerful Were who wanted her dead had finally tracked her down, and was standing just a few feet away.