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

alone in a dark, haunted, cold hallway.
    The light from Salvatore’s candle reappeared. “Are you just going to stand around in the darkness?” he demanded irritably. “Ethan doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
    â€œI—I think I’d rather go back to my room,” Meg said in a weak voice. That brief, otherworldly encounter had left her more shaken than she would have imagined.
    â€œSorry, that’s not an option. We’re here.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œAround the corner. He’s waiting.”
    He could damned well wait, for all she cared, Meg thought. She wanted to get out of there, away from the suffocating darkness, away from rats and danger and deformed creatures of the night. Though she wouldn’t have minded feeling that almost-supernatural caress once more.
    â€œI’m coming,” she said between gritted teeth, following the light.
    A door stood open in the next corridor. A pale blue light was emanating from beyond, and she could hear the unmistakable noise of machinery. Computers, perhaps. Life-support systems. Oxygen tents? Just how bad was Ethan Winslowe?
    Salvatore moved out of the way, and Megan paused in the doorway, for one moment afraid to go on. The room beyond was dark, warm, with a myriad of tiny lights blinking from various machines. In the center of the room was a tall chair, almost a throne, and in that chair, in the darkness, was a motionless, shadowy figure.
    â€œCome into my parlor,” she muttered beneath her breath.
    Whatever Ethan Winslowe’s physical limitations, they didn’t involve deafness. “Said the spider to the fly,” a slow, deep, rich voice issued from that chair. Unwillingly, she stepped into the room. And Salvatore closed the door behind her, plunging her into darkness.

Chapter Four
    I am not afraid, Meg told herself fiercely, not moving into the darkness. The door was solid behind her back, and she didn’t bother reaching out to see whether it was locked or not. She’d already learned that Ethan Winslowe and his henchman were damnably thorough.
    â€œAre you afraid of me, Ms. Carey?” the deep, rich voice mocked. “Why don’t you come closer?”
    That was enough to straighten Meg’s backbone. “I’m not afraid of anyone,” she said, sounding more confident than she felt.
    â€œThen why don’t you come and sit down? Salvatore’s brought you another tray of food since you didn’t touch the earlier one. Why don’t you eat something, and we can discuss why you’re here.”
    â€œI’m not hungry,” she said, taking a step into the darkness. “And you know perfectly well why I’m here.”
    â€œSit down, Ms. Carey.” He didn’t raise his voice, but suddenly Meg decided it might be better if she did as he ordered. She moved forward, hand outstretched until it encountered a straight-backed chair in front of a wide table. She could smell the food and her stomach cramped in longing as she sat, pushing the plate away from her.
    â€œI’m not hungry,” she said again, peering at him in the darkness. She couldn’t see much at all. Ethan Winslowe was sitting in some sort of chair that seemed to resemble a throne. He was in darkness, a shadowy, menacing figure, and she heard the faint, gulping sound that probably came from a respirator.
    â€œIt wouldn’t do you any good to starve yourself,” he said in a more agreeable voice. “How do you expect to escape if you haven’t got any stamina?”
    â€œI’m not going to have to escape. You’re going to be reasonable and call me a rental car so that I can drive out of this godforsaken countryside.”
    â€œGodforsaken it is. But I don’t have a telephone.”
    â€œThen you can fax me a rental car,” she said somewhat desperately. Suddenly she felt very hot. All day long, she’d been shivering in one stone-clad room and