Follow a Stranger

hands in his pockets. Over the top of the hills the moon

swam, like a silver crescent, trailing misty clouds. The wind

stirred slightly in the branches of the trees. From the house

she could hear the faint sounds of sweet music and a patina

of yellow light streaked the darkness by the door.

“You don’t mean that,” Marc said, his accent sounding

foreign for once, his voice thickened and uneven.

“I do!” she flung bitterly, hating him for that moment.

She was so afraid that he had guessed her love for him that

she could almost have killed him at that moment. Her pride

fought bitterly against her love, poisoning it.

He stepped closer and looked down, eyes glittering in the

moonlight. His profile was dangerously masculine, the light

shafting on the narrow planes of his cheekbones and jaw. “If

I thought for a moment that you did—” he began slowly.

“Go away!” she whispered frantically, her hands pushing

at his chest.

But at her touch, as though a dam burst, he grabbed her

shoulders and pulled her close against him. She trembled,

feeling the hard litheness pressing against her. “No, Marc,”

she whispered in terrified appeal.

“I’ve had enough of being treated as an old-fashioned

villain,” he retorted harshly. “Like all women, you are not

honest enough to admit your own motives. You make up

fantasies and hide behind them. Well, I will not let you

fashion a fantasy about me. I’m real.” He bent her

backwards, his hands cruelly hurting her shoulders. “Look

at me, Kate!”

She nervously glanced upwards. His face was very close,

the features etched sharply in the moonlight. His mouth