Anne Stuart's Out-of-Print Gems by Anne Stuart Read Free Book Online

there?
    â€œDon’t fall behind,” Salvatore warned. “I might have a hard time finding you.”
    She started after him, wishing she’d dared to leave her high heels behind. She needed every inch of support she could muster, but her ankles ached and her feet hurt, and if her two previous journeys were any example, she had a long hike ahead of her.
    â€œDon’t you believe in flashlights around here?” she questioned crossly, scurrying to keep up with him.
    â€œDon’t need ’em. I probably wouldn’t even use a candle if you weren’t with me. Rats don’t bother me.”
    â€œRats?” She didn’t even care that her voice quaked.
    â€œEvery old place has ’em. As a matter of fact, I think Oak Grove and its environs have more than their share. Don’t worry about it—they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”
    â€œI doubt that.”
    â€œBesides, Ethan keeps them well fed. Rats are only dangerous when they’re starving.”
    â€œHe keeps them well fed?” she shrieked, and her voice bounced off the stone walls and echoed down the dark passageway.
    â€œNot so loud, girly. Ethan learned long ago that if you can’t change something, get rid of something, then you accept it with good grace. It’s a lesson you could learn.”
    â€œSure. Next time I’m infested with rats, I’ll buy rat food.”
    Salvatore only chuckled, turning a corner and heading into another part of the house. An electrified part. The wall sconces were dimly watted light bulbs, reassuring Meg that there were no rats keeping her company.
    And then they were in darkness again, a darkness so thick that Salvatore’s candle could barely penetrate it. “Watch your step,” he muttered as they started down a steeply ramped passageway. Ramps again, she thought. Ethan Winslowe must be bound to a wheelchair.
    â€œI can’t see.”
    â€œFeel your way along the wall,” Salvatore suggested irritably.
    She did just that, almost afraid of what she might touch. But the walls were smooth there, plastered and solid, and she kept her left hand running along one side, needing the security.
    At that point, she needed all the help she could get. She couldn’t rid herself of the notion that someone, something was watching her in the dark. Salvatore’s broad back was to her, so it couldn’t be him. And no one could see in such inky blackness, could they? The only other resident of the house was Ethan Winslowe himself, and she expected to see him tied up to life support systems somewhere in the center of this monstrosity.
    â€œHow bad is Mr. Winslowe?” she asked suddenly, unable to stand the uncertainty any longer.
    Salvatore stopped still in the hallway, an unwilling chuckle rumbling out of him. “Depends on what you mean,” he replied, turning to look at her.
    She was glad it was too dark to see her face flush. “I mean, how bad is his condition? Is it life threatening?”
    â€œThat’s a matter of opinion. What do you think is wrong with him?”
    â€œI’m asking you.”
    â€œWell,” said Salvatore, “I ain’t talking. You’ll have to ask the man himself. If you dare.” And he started onward at a faster clip than ever.
    She hesitated a moment too long. He turned a corner ahead of her and she was momentarily plunged into darkness.
    She bit down the scream that threatened to bubble up. He’d come back for her, he had to. If she just held very still…
    It was like a soft breeze. A touch of warmth, of spring air, a breath, a caress. It ruffled through her hair, across her clothing, touching but not touching, more a promise of touching. The feel of warmth, insubstantial but real, and no threat at all. She closed her eyes in the darkness, trying to draw the odd feelings within her trembling body, and then as swiftly as it had come, it disappeared and she was