Armand frowned briefly and then glanced to the side and sat back, drawing her attention to the fact that their food had arrived. She sat back as well to make room for the waiter to set it down, but kept her gaze on Armand as the food was placed before them. Her bringing up Annie had obviously disturbed him. As if he had assumed all this time that her death had been an accident, but Eshe's question had raised some doubt in him. His startled "That was an accident" was interesting, though. It could mean that he knew or suspected that his wives' deaths weren't the accidents they appeared to be, which would explain the way he had withdrawn from society and his family. Perhaps he was trying to shelter them and keep them safe and away from the danger that appeared to plague those who loved him.

Before Armand had told her how the women had died, Eshe might have suspected those words had been a slip and that he knew the deaths of his wives weren't accidents because he'd caused them, but he hadn't even been around when two of them had died. He'd been several days' ride away at court when Susanna died in that fire, and Althea had been hours away in Toronto with her parents when she died in the hotel fire.

The knowledge made Eshe shake her head with bewilderment. She had no idea why Lucian had worried for even a moment that Armand might have been behind the deaths of his wives. She suspected it had to do with his twin brother, Jean Claude. The man had treated his family abominably and even broken their laws in taking the lives of mortals. Eshe knew Lucian suffered a great deal of guilt over his not having seen and put a stop to his brother's bad behavior and supposed he was now determined not to repeat that mistake with Armand. She would be glad to be able to tell him that his brother couldn't have been behind the deaths. However, this meant she now had to look elsewhere for answers.

Eshe tried to think where she should next look as she picked up her fork and knife and cut into the rare steak she'd ordered, but forgot the question and nearly moaned aloud at the burst of flavor in her mouth as she popped the first bite in. Damn, she'd forgotten how good food could be. Actually, Eshe acknowledged, it wasn't that she'd forgotten, but that the food had begun to lose its flavor after Orion's death, as if her taste buds had slowly died and left everything bland and uninteresting. She was definitely glad to have them back and working again, Eshe decided as she next tried a bite of the stuffed baked potato.

They ate in silence at first, Armand appearing slightly distracted, and Eshe herself busily trying to think where she should turn her attention and questions next. It seemed to her that whoever might be behind the deaths had been in Armand's life a long time, and also had to be relatively close by. They were halfway through the meal when she finally asked, "So is there anyone else I should know about who comes to the farm besides Mrs. Ramsey?"

Armand was silent for so long she thought he hadn't heard her question, but then he said, "Paul and Mrs. Ramsey were the only mortals who came around. Of course, Paul won't be a problem now."

"Will you replace him?" she asked curiously, thinking he'd had even less sleep than she that day as he took over the work Paul normally did. From what she could tell he hadn't gone to bed at all.

"Not right away," Armand decided, taking a sip of wine. He swallowed it and then added, "I'll wait a couple weeks."

Until she was gone, Eshe suspected. Lucian had told him she would be there for about two weeks, and she supposed he wanted to wait until she was gone to bring in a new mortal. There would be less chance of his discovering what they were that way. But it also meant he wasn't yet thinking of her being in his life longer than that. The fact rather bothered her.

Eshe took a sip of her own wine and forced her mind back to the job at hand, asking, "What about immortals? You must have visitors on occasion. Old friends you've known since England, or new ones you've made here? Mrs. Ramsey mentioned an Agnes and John?"

Armand nodded as he cut into his own steak. "Agnes and John come around once in a while, usually once a week or so to see how I am and check in."

"Check in?" she asked curiously.

He smiled wryly. "I'm the only family they have. They were Susanna's brother and sister, mortal like she was until they were turned. The rest of their family has long passed on, and of course Susanna is gone as well. So I'm all they have."

"How were they turned?" Eshe asked with surprise, and then her eyes widened with alarm. "You didn't turn them, did you?"

"No, of course not," Armand said with a laugh. "Brother or not, Lucian would have had my head had I gone against our laws."

"Oh." Eshe let out a relieved breath, but asked with confusion, "So did they turn out to be life mates for other immortals?"

"No." Armand shook his head on a sigh and set his knife and fork down to pick up his wine. After taking a drink, he explained, "Susanna was very fond of her brother and sister. She, not unnaturally, didn't want to leave them behind, and introduced them to every un-attached immortal who attended our wedding, hoping they would turn out to be life mates for one of them. But, of course, we were a lot more spread out then. There were very few who were close enough to attend."

Eshe nodded in acknowledgment. Before the advent of blood banks they had been forced to feed off mortals. Essentially, they'd had to bite their friends and neighbors or servants and peasants. Having too many of their kind in an area had meant more mortals in that area being fed on and had raised the risk of discovery. To avoid that, they had spread out across the land, allowing only one or two immortals to a good-sized area. It was how her father, Castor, had ended up in Africa and met her mother, his life mate.

"I didn't stop her from trying to find them mates," Armand continued. "I knew it wasn't likely, but felt sure that in time she'd resign herself to losing them to death."

"But she didn't," Eshe guessed.

Armand shook his head. "She didn't really get the chance to. Shortly after we were married, her sister, Agnes, became ill. I suspect now that it was leukemia, but it hadn't been named back then. Susanna got word of her illness and traveled to the convent to visit her."

"Convent?" Eshe interrupted with surprise.

"Yes. She was a nun," he explained quietly.

She felt her eyebrows rise at the knowledge that Susanna had been trying to find an immortal life mate for her sister the nun but merely gestured for him to continue.

"The convent wasn't far from our home and I expected her back by dawn, but it was the next night before she returned with a vibrantly healthy Agnes in tow."

"She turned her?" Eshe guessed solemnly.

Armand nodded with a grimace. "I had told her our laws about each only turning one and having only one child every hundred years and so on, and rather than watch helplessly as her sister died, she used her one turn to save Agnes."

Eshe nodded silently. Most immortals saved their one turn to turn a mortal who was a life mate. However, Susanna already had a life mate, and obviously hadn't considered that he might die and she might need that turn someday to turn another life mate in the future. Fortunately for her, that day had never come. Or perhaps it was unfortunate for her, since the only reason it hadn't come was that she'd died first. Pushing that thought aside, Eshe asked, "And John?"

"About a month after Susanna brought Agnes home, John arrived. He'd gotten word that Agnes had left the convent and came to see what that was about. He was angry at first, and it took some extra persuasion to calm him."

Eshe could tell by Armand's expression that what he meant by "extra persuasion" was that he'd calmed the man using their special abilities. They had several of them. Immortals could read the minds of mortals, as well as of immortals if they weren't guarded, but they could also wipe the memories of mortals or put thoughts or even new memories in their minds.

"He stayed about a week," Armand continued. "And then the day before he was supposed to leave we all went on a hunt, and he took a terrible tumble from his horse. He broke his neck. I don't think he would have survived the night if Agnes hadn't used her one turn on him."

"I see," Eshe murmured, thinking that while the woman probably hadn't considered it at the time, she'd made a huge sacrifice. But then so had Susanna when she'd turned Agnes, and indeed, as it turned out, so had Armand when he'd turned Susanna. While he had gained a life mate by turning her, he hadn't gotten to enjoy her for long before he'd lost her.

"John went home briefly after I'd taught him to hunt and fend for himself, but it was only a matter of weeks before he returned," Armand continued and explained, "Susanna's father was a baron too, but John was a second son with no likelihood of inheriting the title or property. He asked to work for me. I knew it was risky having so many of our kind in one place, especially since Susanna was pregnant and there would soon be five of us, but Susanna begged me to let him stay and in the end I said yes."

"And they stayed on after Susanna died?" Eshe asked.

"Yes. Agnes was a great help raising Nicholas, and John was my second. When it was time to move on, I took them with me, and then the next time and the next. By the time I followed the rest of the family here to Canada, I didn't even ask if they wished to join me. I just assumed they would, and they did."

"If Agnes and John were with you, why didn't Agnes raise Thomas as she had Nicholas?" Eshe asked curiously. "Why did you send Thomas to Marguerite?"

"They weren't with me anymore by then," he explained. "They both moved out when I married Althea. Agnes worried that Althea might be uncomfortable having my first wife's family around. She also thought as newlyweds we should have time to ourselves, and she said she wanted to visit the old country."

"England?" Eshe asked.

Armand nodded. "John took her back to England and they visited old haunts and then toured the rest of Europe. They returned to Canada when they heard about Althea's death, but by then I'd already sent Thomas to be with Marguerite."

"Why didn't you just bring him back?" Eshe asked. "Couldn't Agnes have helped raise him as she did Nicholas?"

"I considered that," Armand acknowledged. "But it seemed unfair to Agnes to just thrust my son on her, especially when they made it plain they didn't plan to move back in with me but were going to buy their own little farm in the next town over. Close enough they could visit, but not be a bother, John said. I realized then that he'd probably wanted to move out and have his own place for centuries, but had felt in some twisted way that he owed me."

He grimaced and then admitted, "I still might have asked Agnes if she would mind, but then I went to visit Thomas and he seemed settled and happy and..." He shrugged helplessly. "It seemed cruel to tear him away from Marguerite. He called her Ma and hardly seemed to recognize me."

Eshe considered that and then commented, "I'm surprised Althea's parents didn't want to raise him themselves."

"They wanted to," Armand admitted. "But they decided to move back to Europe for a while after Althea's death. I think they wanted to escape the bad memories. With Thomas at Jean Claude and Marguerite's I could at least visit him on occasion, but I'd never have seen him if Althea's parents had taken him to Europe, so I said no."

"So...Agnes and John were Susanna's brother and sister and they were in Europe when Althea died, but returned and have lived nearby since after learning of her death?" Eshe murmured, mentally crossing them off the suspect list. They'd hardly have killed their own sister who had loved them enough to turn Agnes. And they had been in Europe when Althea died in the hotel fire.

When Armand nodded, she asked, "But they've lived in the area since then? Close enough to visit and such?"

"Yes. John learned from me while he worked for me. He's been slowly buying up farms like I did. I think he owns five or six now himself and rotates from one to the other every ten years like I do. But all of them are in southern Ontario like mine. Far enough away from each other that he isn't likely to run into people from the area once he's left it. Although that's becoming more of a risk as time goes on," he added solemnly. "People tended to stick to their own towns when we used horse and buggy, but the more automated everything becomes, the greater the risk of running into people from the past who wonder why you haven't aged as they have."

"Will you have to start buying farms further away?" Eshe asked curiously, wondering how he would deal with the threat of being recognized by mortals from the past.

Armand was silent for a minute, his eyes on his now-empty plate, and then admitted, "Actually, I've been thinking about getting out of farming."

Eshe raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

He nodded. "Perhaps it's time for a change. I've been farming ever since moving to Canada and I find my interest in it waning."

"Do you have any interest in something else?" she asked curiously.

"I'm not sure," he said slowly. "I was thinking about going to university, maybe studying medicine or science."

"All finished here, I see," their waiter trilled cheerfully, appearing at the end of the table to begin scooping up their empty plates. "Can I tempt either of you with dessert?"

Eshe sat back in her seat to avoid his arm brushing her breast as he reached for her plate, but shook her head. As lovely as dessert sounded, it had been years since she'd eaten. Centuries even. She had already stretched her stomach to capacity. If she ate another thing she would probably burst. Literally.

"No thank you. Just the bill," Armand said, scowling at the waiter. Apparently he hadn't missed the close call with the almost boob brushing, and from his expression, was thinking it hadn't been accidental.

Eshe didn't doubt he'd read the waiter's mind and was probably right, but didn't bother to read his thoughts herself. She had lived a long time and was used to men's behavior, and really, it got a bit disheartening listening to their baser thoughts after a while. She didn't know how or why, but a mortal male could completely and utterly love one woman and still have the most staggeringly disgusting lustful thoughts about others that got caught in his vision range. It made her glad she was an immortal. Immortal mates, at least when they were life mates, didn't suffer the same problem. They might think another woman was attractive, but they wouldn't act on it, because it simply couldn't ever be as good as it was with their life mate. There might be some disadvantages in that an immortal could be incredibly lonely between life mates and that centuries and even millennia could pass before another was found, but the benefits of the shared pleasure and utter trust totally outweighed the disadvantages.

"Shall we?"

Eshe glanced to Armand to see that while she'd been lost in thought the bill had arrived, and he had dropped several twenties in the black folder it had come in, and was now peering at her expectantly.

Managing a smile, she nodded and slid out of her side of the booth to stand, surprised to find herself a little unsteady on her feet.

"You need more blood," Armand murmured, his expression concerned as he took her arm to steady her. "I should have made you have a couple of bags at least before coming in rather than just the one."

"I'm fine," Eshe assured him. "I just probably shouldn't have had the wine." The alcohol wouldn't have made her drunk, but it would have made her nanos work twice as hard to remove the alcohol from her system, using up the blood she did have flowing through her veins. She could use a top-up.

Armand ushered her out of the restaurant and to the pickup. He saw her inside, and then left the door open as he moved to the back of the pickup to the special cooler there. A moment later he was back with two bags of blood for her.

"Is this enough or should I grab another?" he asked as he passed them to her. "You probably need three or four, but I know it's uncomfortable trying to consume them under the dashboard so no one sees."

"Two is fine," she assured him, taking the bags. "I can have more back at the house."

Nodding, he stepped back and closed the door, then moved around to slide into the driver's side.

They were both quiet on the ride home. At first it was because Eshe had the bags to her mouth and couldn't talk, and then once those were empty, she simply didn't know what to say to break the silence. She was terribly aware that they were headed back to his house, his empty house where they would be alone and could finish what they'd started earlier. The thought was like a great huge boulder in the middle of her brain, leaving her incapable of thinking of much else. With every mile they drove, her body grew more and more tense with anticipation and her tongue seemed to swell in her mouth, unable to form words even had her mind been able to come up with any.

She was so wound up with anticipation that the moment the truck stopped in front of the farm, Eshe was springing out the door and hurrying for the house. She was determined to get inside before he could touch her or say or do anything that might end in their rolling around in the front yard, and then passing out there for the animals to eye curiously.

Once in the house, however, she stopped running and turned in the hall to wait for Armand. Much to her frustration, however, he was following at a much slower rate. He also didn't appear to be in the same anticipatory state as she was. A frown was carving his face, concern wrinkling his eyes, and his lips were a firm, grim line when he pulled the screen door open and met her gaze.

Armand stared at her silently for a moment, his eyes traveling her length with a hunger that was visible in the silver fire in his eyes, and then he forced his eyes away and said, "I need to check on the animals. Then I have to muck out the stalls and such."

"What?" Eshe asked with blank disbelief.

"I'll probably be out all night. There's a lot to do now that Paul's gone," he continued, turning in the open door in preparation for leaving. "Mrs. Ramsey isn't in on Thursdays so your sleep should be undisturbed. I'll see you when you wake up."

He then walked out, leaving her staring after him with amazement. That was it? After the promise of passion in the office, and their teasing while shopping, he was just going to leave her high and dry and go play with his animals?

Eshe snorted at the very idea. If that was what he thought, Armand Argeneau had another think coming, she decided firmly. After a considering glance down at herself, she quickly pushed off her leather pants, struggling a bit to get them off over her boots. She then slammed through the door and out onto the porch in just her knee-high black leather boots, and the white satin baby doll and panties...only to pause at the top of the steps. Armand was nowhere in sight.

"I guess it's true that you can take the girl out of the city, but not the city out of the girl, huh Eshe? 'Cause that sure as hell isn't farm wear."

Eshe gave a start at that comment from the darkness and turned sharply to peer toward the end of the porch where it had come from.

"Bricker," she said with disgust as she recognized the man who unfolded himself from the rocker he'd been seated in and moved toward her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Lucian sent me to watch your back," Justin Bricker said, his teeth flashing white in the darkness as he grinned. "I can tell you appreciate the thoughtfulness."

"Thoughtfulness my eye," Eshe said dryly. "Lucian doesn't have a thoughtful bone in his body. More likely the knowledge that I can't read Armand made him decide he should send someone to be sure I didn't let that affect my work."

"You can't read Armand?" Bricker said with surprise, and then blew out a silent whistle. "Well, that complicates things nicely, doesn't it?"

When Eshe merely scowled, Bricker shifted his attention to what she was wearing. Looking her over, he asked, "So is this the latest fashion in farm wear now? Sort of slutty milkmaid or something?"

Eshe didn't even think, she just punched out at him. It was instinct. When Lucian had agreed to take her on as an enforcer nearly a century ago, a female rogue hunter was somewhat rare. Not unheard of, but rare. He'd told her at the time that if she wanted the other rogue hunters to take her seriously, she couldn't take any crap from them. Eshe had taken him at his word and spent most of her first year on the job knocking one rogue hunter after another onto his ass. She still did it roughly once a year. This year it was apparently Bricker's turn.

Propping her hands on her hips, she glared down at him as he sat up on the porch floor, and growled, "Would you care to rephrase that?"

Bricker didn't appear to be in a hurry to get up. Rubbing his jaw, he stayed sitting and let his eyes rove briefly over her black boots. He then glanced up the length of her to her face and raised an eyebrow. "Mike Tyson in drag as a slutty milkmaid?"

Despite herself, Eshe snorted with amusement at the suggestion. Sighing, she let her hands drop from her hips and then held one down in a silent offer to help him to his feet. Bricker didn't hesitate to take it.

"I forgot how hard you could punch," he muttered, still rubbing his chin as he straightened beside her.

"Yeah, well, don't forget again," she suggested dryly, turning to start down the stairs to the front lawn. Bricker was immediately beside her.

"Where are we going?" he asked with interest, matching his stride to hers.

Eshe paused and turned to scowl at him. "We aren't going anywhere. I am going to find Armand."

"You're going to seduce him, don't you mean?" Bricker asked lightly.

Eshe narrowed her eyes. "Are you reading me?"

"Well, dressed as you are I don't really need to bother reading you to figure out what you're up to, do I?" he asked wryly, and then added, "But yes, I am. You've got some hot thoughts wandering through that mind of yours, Eshe. Very impressive."

Eshe cursed harshly at the knowledge that Bricker could read her. He'd never been able to read her before this, but finding a life mate often hindered an immortal's ability to shield thoughts from others. She wasn't pleased to know it was happening with her. Forcing herself to calm down, she said reassuringly, "Seducing Armand is all part of my strategy."

"Oh, a strategy, is it?" he asked with interest.

"Yes. He'll be set off his stride by it, vulnerable to my questions," Eshe explained, wondering why it had sounded so much more believable when she was convincing herself earlier.

"Right, and this hot barnyard sex you're planning won't affect your stride. Right?" he asked gently.

"Barnyard sex?" Eshe asked with disbelief.

"Stable sex?" he offered.

Eshe took a moment to suck in a calming breath and then cleared her throat and said, "Look. Don't worry about it. Armand can't be behind the murders anyway. He was at court when his life mate Susanna died in a stable fire at their home, and he was home on the farm when his second wife, Althea, died in a fire in the hotel she and her parents were staying in, in Toronto. He couldn't have killed either woman."

"And Rosamund and Annie?" Bricker asked with interest.

"He was on the farm when they died too, but while I suppose that means he could have killed them, he couldn't have killed the first two women, so if they're connected he's in the clear."

"Right, because he was at court when Susanna died and here on the farm when Althea died in a hotel fire in Toronto," Bricker reasoned.

"Exactly," Eshe said with relief, glad he agreed.

Bricker nodded repeatedly and then asked, "And we know he was at court and then on the farm and nowhere near Toronto because...?"

"He told me," she answered at once.

"Right," Bricker drawled. "He told you...and he'd have no reason to lie, right?"

Eshe opened her mouth, and then closed it again and stared at him silently, her heart sinking.

"I don't suppose he offered some proof, huh?" Bricker asked gently. "Maybe he was at court with someone? Or maybe he had a visitor at the farm who could prove he was there and not in Toronto at the time of the fire?"

Eshe closed her eyes briefly as she realized what she'd done. She'd simply believed him. Armand had told her his stories of his wives' deaths and she hadn't doubted a single word, or even considered doing any fact-checking. What the hell had she been thinking?

"Yeah," Bricker said carefully. "Maybe this whole seduction thing is a bad idea. Maybe all this life mate business has set you a little off your stride, huh?"

Eshe turned abruptly on her heel and marched back to the stairs.

"Where are we going now?" Bricker asked, falling in beside her again as she mounted the steps.

"I am going to bed," she announced grimly. "I didn't get more than a couple hours of sleep this morning. Obviously that has left me a little slow today."

"Yeah, that's probably it," Bricker agreed solemnly.

"If you laugh at me, Bricker, I'll knock you on your ass again," she warned grimly, stomping across the porch to the door. "When did you get here?"

"About half an hour ago," he answered, glancing at his wristwatch as he followed her inside. "The door was unlocked, but I thought I'd better wait outside so I settled in the rocker, and fell asleep. I didn't hear you two get back, but woke up when Armand let the screen door clack closed behind him on the way back out."

"Well, you'd better go down to the barn, find Armand, and let him know you're here," she said on a sigh, leading him to the kitchen, only to pause halfway to the refrigerator when she recalled that the blood wasn't there anymore. And Armand hadn't shown her the fridge in his walk-in closet as promised.

Clucking her tongue impatiently, she announced, "I'm calling Lucian and letting him know he should send someone else, but I'll wait for you to get back before I head out."

"Calling Lucian?" Bricker asked with surprise. "I thought it was just sleep you needed? A little rest and you'll be right as rain."

"Rest isn't going to help," she admitted unhappily, her shoulders sagging in defeat. "He's my life mate, Bricker. The only thing I'm thinking when I'm near him is how to get his pants off."

Bricker's lips twitched, but he managed to keep a straight face as he said, "Well, that's perfectly normal. You should have seen Mortimer when he found his life mate, Sam, or Decker when he found his Dani. Hell, it was boob city in the back of the van on Highway 401 with Decker."

"Yes, but Nicholas's life didn't depend on Decker," she pointed out, moving past him and heading into the hall to retrieve her leather pants from the hall floor where she'd left them.

"No," Bricker agreed, hard on her heels. "A young girl's life did."

When Eshe paused and met his gaze, he added, "I've never known you to be a quitter, Eshe. Lucian sent you down here for a reason, and you know he isn't likely to change his mind about having you here now. Just trust him and do what you can here." When she hesitated, not refusing at once, he added, "At least sleep on it. Who knows, maybe a little rest really will help. You can always call Lucian tomorrow if it doesn't."

Eshe stared at him silently, terribly tempted by the suggestion. Maybe if she slept she would be a little more on the ball. And she could stay here with Armand. On the other hand, she really didn't think sleep was going to help much. She couldn't think clearly when she was around Armand. However, it wasn't like one day's rest was going to slow things down much here, her mind argued temptingly, and she could see Armand when she woke up.

"Fine, I'll sleep on it, but I don't think it will make a difference," she muttered, turning toward the stairs. She heard Bricker's murmured good-night, but merely raised her hand in a wave as she went. Her mind was too busy going over everything that had happened since her arrival for her to expend the effort needed to say anything. She really was exhausted, but suspected it wasn't just her lack of sleep behind it. There was also the fact that she really could have used a couple more bags of blood just then; three or four would have done it. She generally needed only three or four a day, but she'd shorted herself the night before, and then the wine tonight had used up blood she really hadn't had to spare.

Unfortunately, she had no idea where the blood was. She'd already been through Armand's closet the night before after arriving and hadn't seen any evidence of a refrigerator there. Obviously it was built in, and she didn't feel like searching his closet again. Really, all she wanted to do right then was sleep. She was exhausted after what was essentially a roller coaster of a day. She'd arrived suspecting Armand was a murderer, found out he was her life mate, and spent the time since lusting after him while trying to do her job. His rejection on returning home-and that's what it had felt like to her-had been the final straw.

Her mind was still running around in circles trying to understand what had happened there. At the mall he'd been ready to rush her back to the house and jump her bones, but after the meal he'd apparently lost interest. How could a life mate lose interest?

The question rambled through her mind on a note of disbelief and was followed by the fact that a life mate wouldn't lose interest. Which meant either that he was fighting what they were for some reason, or that he could resist her because he wasn't really her life mate. Perhaps she really couldn't read him because he was difficult to read and not because he was her life mate. After all, Lucian couldn't read him, she reminded herself. Maybe that's all it was for her too, she thought.

Of course there was the reawakening of her appetites for both food and sex, Eshe acknowledged, but then worried that that might be more psychological than anything. Perhaps she was only interested in food and sex again because she thought he was her life mate.

Sighing at the confusion of her thoughts, Eshe decided that sleep was really what she needed. It should clear her thoughts at least a little. In the morning she would try to work it all out again and see if she came up with something different, she reassured herself as she walked into the guest room she'd chosen.

Eshe was crossing the dark room to the bed when she caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror. Pausing, she peered at her reflection for a moment, noting how short and sexy the baby doll was. It had been a good choice on Armand's part. Perfect, really. She doubted anything else in the store could have showed her off as well as it did.

"How the hell did he resist me?" she asked with bewilderment, and turned away with disgust to stride to the bed.

"How the hell did I resist her?" Armand muttered under his breath as he mucked out one of the stalls in the horse barn. He could still see her in his mind, eyes glowing golden in the dim hallway, the sharp white baby doll hugging her breasts and flowing down to barely past her hips, the skintight leather pants making her look almost nude but for the baby doll in the dim overhead light. Damn, all he'd wanted to do was throw her to the floor and-as she'd put it-have his "wicked way" with her. Instead, he'd said he had work to do and left the house, rushing down here like the devil himself was on his tail.

Armand didn't know how he'd managed to resist the urges just looking at her raised in him, but he was damned sure of one thing, there was no way he was going to be able to resist her again...which meant he had to get her out of there as soon as possible. He couldn't even afford to spend one night with her. Armand knew he'd been fooling himself with the belief that he could take one night and then send her away. He now suspected the truth was that one night wouldn't be enough. He'd need another and another and another until...until he was made a widower for the fourth time, he acknowledged unhappily. That was his fear. Telling her about the deaths of his wives had made him realize how foolish he was being. It had resurrected all his doubts about those deaths being accidents, and reawakened his worries that someone had been stalking the people he loved and taking their lives, then covering them up as accidents. It had been bad enough when he'd thought only his wives had been killed, but after their talk at dinner, Armand was now wondering about his daughter-in-law Annie's death too.

He needed to call Lucian now and get him to send someone down to collect Eshe and take her to a different safe house. His house just wasn't that safe for Eshe d'Aureus, he thought, and straightened to reach in his pocket for his phone.

"Wow!"

Armand glanced sharply toward the open barn door as a man in leather pants, T-shirt, and leather jacket strode inside and along the stalls toward him. His nose was wrinkled with distaste and his lips twisted with disgust as he met Armand's gaze.

"The smell in here is pretty rank, buddy. I don't know how you put up with it. Have you ever considered some air fresheners maybe? Or a different job?"

"Who the hell-"

"Justin Bricker. You can call me Bricker," he interrupted, offering his hand. "I work with Eshe."

Armand automatically shifted his phone to his other hand and took Bricker's. His gaze slid over the younger immortal as he shook the hand and he arched an eyebrow, "So do all of Lucian's enforcers have a thing for leather, or is it just you and Eshe?"

"I rode my bike down, and leather protects your skin better if you wipe out. Means less blood needed to repair you after," Bricker explained, and then grinned and added, "But I think Eshe has a thing for it. To tell the truth, I've never seen her out of it."

"And you won't," Armand assured him grimly, his mouth tightening at the thought of this young kid seeing Eshe undressed.

"Got it. She's off limits," Bricker agreed with a wince. "I mean seriously, guy. It's not like she'd even give me a second glance when she's your life mate, right? So do you think you can release my hand now before you break it? The healing can be a bitch."

Armand released his hold at once, feeling stupid as he realized that it hadn't only been his mouth that had tightened. Apparently he was something of a jealous idiot. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair and then asked, "So what are you doing here?"

"Lucian sent me," Bricker muttered, rubbing his abused hand. "He thought you two might be a little preoccupied with each other, you being life mates and all, and he sent me as added protection."

"Oh." Armand sighed and then admitted, "I was going to call Lucian and suggest he take her somewhere else."

"Now you don't have to, right?" Bricker said lightly. "Now that I'm here there are two of us to watch her. She's safe as a bug in a rug."

"Rugs get stepped on," Armand pointed out quietly.

"So do bugs out of rugs," Bricker said easily. "But at least the rug offers some cushioning."

"I don't know," Armand said with a frown.

"Sleep on it," Bricker suggested easily, leaning his arms on the top of the stall. "If you're still worried in the morning, give Lucian a call...but I doubt he'll change his mind."

Armand suspected he was right, but didn't say as much. He simply watched the other man glance around the stall and then the barn again.

"So, you live out here on purpose?" Bricker asked with open disbelief.

Armand stared at him blankly for a moment, and then a short, surprised laugh burst from his mouth. It seemed obvious the fellow wasn't impressed, and he asked, "City boy?"

"All my life," Bricker admitted almost apologetically. "My uncle had a farm and I used to go there, but I never quite figured out the attraction of treading through manure."

"We generally try not to do that," Armand assured him with amusement.

"Good to know," Bricker said, and then raised an eyebrow. "Is there anything I can help with?"

"It's kind of you to offer, but I think I have everything under control," Armand said wryly, thinking the boy would be more hindrance than help. If he'd never been on a farm before, he wouldn't know what the hell he was doing. "Perhaps you should just go back to the house and keep an eye on Eshe."

"She went to bed," Bricker said with a shrug, and then added archly, "Alone. Not the usual outcome between life mates, I must say. Decker and Mortimer were both like a couple of bulls in mating season when they met their life mates, and Eshe was all set to march out here in nothing but this shiny white baby doll and knee-high leather boots when I stopped her. You're welcome, by the way."

Armand stared at him with a combination of anger at the idea that this punk kid had been the first one to see Eshe properly in just the baby doll, and confusion over the "you're welcome" bit. "What am I welcome for?"

"Well, I saved you slivers in the ass from doing it out here in the barn with the horses looking on," he pointed out, and then frowned and said, "Or maybe I saved her the slivers. Either way, someone didn't get slivers in their ass thanks to my intervention."

"Gee, thanks," Armand said dryly, but wasn't sure he meant it. His mind was now full of images of Eshe in that damned baby doll and leather boots. His backing her up against the stall wall and-

"Crap!" He set aside the rake he'd been using and moved out of the stall with every intention of going inside, finding Eshe, and living it rather than imagining it.

"So, I'll just finish up in here, shall I?" Bricker offered, bringing Armand to an abrupt halt. Turning, he found the young man had taken his place in the stall and picked up the rake. He was now glancing from it to the hay on the floor with consideration.

Armand felt his shoulders slump. He had chores to do. Twice the amount he usually had now that there was no manager to do them for him. He briefly considered letting Bricker help out, but it was only very briefly. Justin Bricker didn't even appear sure what to do with the rake he now held. It seemed Eshe was going to sleep soundly tonight. But tomorrow he was going to start advertising for a new manager, Armand decided. To hell with waiting until Eshe was gone; he needed someone now so that he could spend time with her.

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